#I haven't even been here half as long as so many people but it is weird to be here a long time

[statementlou]

Please tell me you get that all I do is about performing not larry. That metaphorical comparison between performing and addiction is all over Walls: Habit, Aways You, Kill My Mind.

if you think that even one of Louis' songs or even individual lyrics is straightforwardly about only one thing I feel sorry for you, that you are missing out on the number one thing that characterizes his writing style- the clever overlap and interplay of meanings and references in every line- and for him, that his fans are out here completely oblivious to the thing he is, I would guess, proudest of about his lyrical craft, the thing that's his writing SIGNATURE, in favor of just being like "x is just About this and only this that's what he Means period end of". The Way I Do is or can be about lots of things, but that has nothing to do with the fact that for Louis to use phrases such as "it's not one thing it's everything" and "next to you" (and both in a single verse even) that had been catchphrases and slogans basically of the larry fandom for a decade at the time he wrote and recorded that does not exist in a vacuum and is kind of fucking unhinged (and there's literally zero chance he doesn't Know). And the habit reference is used the same as he uses it on Walls; as a fluid is it love or is it addiction is it love of a person or of the fans/ performing metaphor. Of course it refers to that! And that doesn't for one second rule out or even make less likely that it also refers to any number of other things, have some damn appreciation for his CRAFT and subtlety!

[girlscience]

I don't know if my life is just extremely charmed. but listening to my coworkers talk is so bizarre to me? the way that money is the only measure of success or good life that they care about blows my mind. we are talking about furthering our education and the only thing they are looking at is how much the salary for that field pays. I understand money is important, but that's honestly not something I've given even more than a passing thought to with the programs I'm applying for? I just don't get it? We do science, don't you care more about the work than the money? Am I just blind because I haven't ever had money troubles? I don't know.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 

 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 

You have to be alive and in good condition. 

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 

It started with Old Lady Sal. 

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid. 

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you. 

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 

- You serious? 

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 

- Wait. 

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[parfaitblogs]

waiting room ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he breaks up with you, and your life slowly falls apart. so obviously you should see him?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: implied alcohol reliance? lots of nothing happening not even a gun to my head could get me to write action... do not read if emotionally stable because i sure wasn't when i wrote this. word count: 1.9k a/n: i never write in second person so if there's a cheeky she her they them somewhere in this ignore it!!! i do not know what i am doing!!! probably not proofread enough. also no happy ending i hate those let the people cry i say! i haven't posted my writing in like three years be nice...

also posted here on my ao3 !

"Hey."

"Hi."

Awkward silence. Horribly awkward silence.

Your eyes darting around a bar that you found all too familiar, with decor that you could paint on a canvas with your eyes closed, and such a distinct smell that you could imagine it from miles away. You didn't think you'd ever forget the way the air moved in this bar, or the sound of the same three bands singing every Friday night on repeat. You knew all the words to their songs by now. And the bartender knew your name, embarrassingly so. 

And even over the sound of patrons talking, and the clinking of glasses and every other overwhelming sound that drove you crazy, you felt like you could hear your heartbeat slamming against your chest. Your lips chapped, never wetting no matter how many times you produced the saliva in your otherwise dry mouth to lick them. Hands wrapped around an ice cold glass that did nothing but numb some part of your body, to accompany the numb feeling in your chest. 

You looked better than you felt, but he was knocking both parts of you out of the park. Maybe that's why your mouth was so dry. You'd tell yourself that it is, at least. He's too attractive to talk to. But you could talk to him. You did talk to him. All the time. About everything, and nothing. Because that's what you two did. 

And yet; the awkward silence. 

He cleared his throat, and it prompted you to take a sip of your drink, mixed alcohol falling down your throat and leaving a burn that shouldn't comfort you, but did. You didn't pull a face at the taste of it the way you used to, and you found yourself wishing that part of you that you despised was back. 

Maybe he would tease you for it again.

"How's work?"

The words felt foreign on your lips. It wasn't really what you wanted to ask him, but every inquiry you had died on your tongue before you could ask them, nothing feeling good enough. 

"It's good," he answered, eyes studying you in a way that made you want to shrink into nothingness. 

"That's good," you said, and you saw the small twitch of his lips — brief, before they fell back into their natural downturned shape. 

It was almost comical how much silence sat between you two. Two people who would talk until people around them were groaning and regretting asking them a question, falling silent in the presence of one another. 

He cleared his throat again. Maybe you should offer him some water, but then you realised this wasn't your house and he was fully capable of getting his own water. And everything else in the world.

"How's work for you?"

"It's good," you answered, half-heartedly, because you really didn't know. You hadn't been in months. 

You didn't really realise a breakup would affect you this much. You had always been good. Good at putting emotional turmoil on pause for your busy life. You never considered the possibility of putting your busy life on pause for emotional turmoil. 

But then Spencer Reid left you. You never considered the possibility of that happening either, until it did. 

"Is it?" he asked, and you watched his body shift slightly in his seat, almost leaning closer to you. 

And unfortunately, you can only pretend in front of the man across from you for so long. "No," you said.

"Why not?" 

"I'm not going." Your voice was embarrassingly quiet, but you knew he heard you, because his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and his lips parted for a second. It made you want to take the words back; to lie again. "I got laid off a week ago."

He slowly nodded his head in recognition — that would explain your sudden request to meet. "I'm sorry."

You could imagine a million things you knew he'd be saying the words for, but not one part of you really believed it for any of them. So you only nodded your head, gaze dropping from him to the glass in front of you, the paper straw disintegrating in the liquid — something you weren't used to; you would finish drinks too quickly for that to happen. 

You didn't come here to mope. You do that every other Friday night. You didn't need to do that tonight, when the man you were spending your nights sobbing and your mornings numb over was right there with you.

"How's your mom?" you ask instead, lifting your head back up, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. 

"She's okay. Same as usual," he said, and you nodded your head. Short answers seemed to be the only thing you guys knew how to do. "How's yours?"

"Good," you answer, because the question doesn't really have the same weight as it did when you asked him; he only did it to be courteous. "She misses having you over."

That brought a small smile to his face. "I miss being over."

You can come back, you want to say, but you know that isn't true. 

You don't know how much longer you two sit in silence before he breaks it with a sigh that, if you didn't know better, you'd think was irritated. But it wasn't; simply exhausted. 

"Why did you want to meet me?" he finally asked, and your lips parted, before shutting again, because you're not too sure the answer is something you're allowed to say aloud. 

You say it anyway.

"I missed you."

You watched his facial features soften, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and that only seemed to bring more nervous energy to you. 

"You shouldn't," he said, and if your heart had anything left for him, it probably would have cracked again. 

You knew that you shouldn't. You had told yourself to get over it a thousand times before. Your go-to mantra was grow up. But you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let it go and your eyes could just never stay dry for long enough to think it's finally over. It was almost pathetic. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding your head, slowly, and you were pretty sure tears were welling in your eyes, which felt even more pathetic in front of him. 

"I'm sorry."

This time it was you to apologise, and you knew he didn't believe your apology either. Not when you didn't even know what you were apologising for. Missing him, meeting him here, ever even dating him in the first place.

"It's okay," he said, instead, and you watched him exhale shakily, his lips rubbing against each other — usually a telltale sign he didn't want to be wherever he was any longer. That broke your heart too. 

Words died in your throat as you abruptly stood up, the stool you were perched atop wobbling slightly with your sudden movements. 

You stared at him for another moment, committing his face to memory, before you nodded your head to him in acknowledgement, pocketing your phone. You forced a smile, and left. 

Maybe not the best move you've ever done in your life. Not the move you wanted to do. But certainly the smartest. 

Because the second the cool, early fall air hit your skin, so did your tears, and you found that even ordering an Uber was difficult through blurry vision. So you decided to walk. Walk where, you didn't know. Away from the bar. Through the people-filled square; people as drunk as you wished to be, people out with friends and partner's, to have fun. People having a much better night than you, clearly. 

You heard your name. And something in you screamed to not turn around, to not give in to the caller. Probably the logical part of your brain. But your heart ignored it, and you halted in your tracks, turning to see him walking towards you, eyebrows furrowed in so much concern you think you'd crack further than you already have. Maybe if you split yourself down the middle it would finally stop hurting. 

"I miss you too."

Four simple words that could be heard even over the mixed songs playing from the clubs around you, even over the beeping cars and the chattering people. 

"Please don't lie to make me feel better," you croak, and you're acutely aware of the tears on your cheeks. 

"I'm not lying," he breathed out, and you were far enough away from his body to see his hand twitch. For whatever reason you didn't know. "Sweetheart, you're breaking my heart, here."

Oh.

You swallowed down a sob, swiping another set of falling tears before they could get too far down your cheeks.

"Spencer, please," you said, so desperately that you wanted to shoot yourself. "I shouldn't have asked you to meet."

"No, you shouldn't have," he agreed, and your heart stuttered in your chest, because he was telling you things you shouldn't do. Again. "Not that I—" he cut himself off with a sigh; frustrated, this time. "Not that I didn't want to see you, because I did. You're the only person I want to see recently. But I was getting better, and I know I've ruined all that by being here with you tonight."

I was getting better. The words echoed over and over in your brain. If he was just as bad as you were, maybe it would make this easier. Maybe you aren't as pathetic. 

"I hate this," you settled on, fidgeting awkwardly with your fingers. 

He didn't respond for a few too many moments, and it had you wanting to take back your words. He rubbed his eyes with another sigh. 

"I'm not going back on my decision," he said, and you didn't need to ask what decision; you had an idea, and your stomach twisted uncomfortably. 

But you did anyways. "Which decision?"

"Breaking up with you."

You were silent for a few moments too. "I'm not asking you to—"

"—No, but you want me to," he cuts you off. "And I'm telling you I won't. You know why I did it. That trumps whatever feelings I have for you."

Have.

"I don't know why," you said, shakily. You did. He gave you a reason, and if you had to explain the breakup to someone, you could tell them why. But the ongoing conflict in your brain confused you anyways. 

"Yes you do," he answered, his jaw tensing. When you shook your head, and went to respond, he cut you off, stepping closer. "I can afford to lose you. I can't afford for the world to."

He had said something similar the day he left. Something about a fear of you dying. Something you had tried to reassure him of, failing to do so clearly. 

"What about me?" your voice cracked and you cursed it.

"It will get better."

You could've cried all over again, in the middle of the square. Everything always for the better. Never for the right now, for the things you both wanted. But for the everlasting fear Spencer had in his brain, that you didn't know how to help. 

"Apparently," you replied, sniffling as you took a step away from him. "I think I should go."

If he wanted to protest, he didn't show it. He simply nodded his head, lips parting in a silent exhale. 

And so you did, with wet cheeks, and a quiet, "Goodbye, Spencer."

loml (part 2) ♡

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[sweetbans29]

Teach Me: The Tragedy of Conflict (vi) - PB

Pairing: Paige Bueackers x Reader

Previous Part & Next Part

Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.

Warnings: suggestive, tiny pains, bigger pains

Word Count: 4.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist & Teach Me Masterlist

AN: You knew it was coming soon.

Over the next few weeks, Paige's internal battle continues to grow. If she thought she was struggling before, each growing day continues to add even more thoughts and doubts that she has when it comes to you. But that isn't the only thing growing, her craving for you has exponentially increased since the last lesson.

Paige thinks about how intimate the two of you were at the most inconvenient times. She pictures you lying on her bed, half naked when she is studying. Her mind replays the sounds you made when her lips were on your neck while she was conditioning in practice. She closes her eyes in class and sees your back arching and hears you saying her name over and over again and all she wants is more.

But the last few weeks have been dry. No lessons, no 'practicing' as you would like to call it, just Paige longing for any touch she could get from you. Even those felt scarce.

Paige is studying with Azzi when she feels like she is going to combust.

"I need something, anything. I have been itching for weeks now," Paige says. The same book has been turned to the same page for the entirety of their study session. Azzi on the other hand was making good progress on her paper.

"Paige. I have been telling you for weeks to tell her how you feel. You are the one who has chosen to ignore any and all of my advice." Azzi says.

"It is not that simple - we freaking live together. What if she doesn't feel the same? That is how many years of friendship thrown away?" Paige says in frustration. She is getting heated.

Azzi laughs.

"What could possibly be funny about this?" Paige says pushing Azzi's computer.

"It is that simple. Just tell the girl you love her and I am sure it will all work out." Azzi doesn't know how much more blunt she can be without flat-out saying that you love Paige. Azzi's suspicions were confirmed that night you walked out of the bar with tears rolling down your face.

"F-that, I will not be the one to talk first," Paige says fed up with the conversation she initiated. She begins packing up her things.

"Where are you going? You haven't even started your assignment." Azzi says as she watches her frantic friend.

"I am going home to change and then WE are going out," Paige says.

"Paige, I don't want to go out tonight," she says.

"Come on, drinks on me," Paige says trying to bribe her to come.

"Fine, drinks AND food on you," Azzi says as she saves her paper and starts to get ready.

The two of them go to Paige's favorite local spot and meet up with some other teammates. They are all having a blast - drinking a little (or a lot) more than they should be for a Tuesday night but no one cared. Practice the next day wasn't until the afternoon so they could sleep in and nurse their hangovers all morning.

It is just after midnight when Paige gets a call from you.

"Hey B, where-are you at a bar?" You say when you hear Paige pick up the phone with a lingering 'hello'.

"Indeed I am!" She yells. "You are the smartest," Paige says with a giggle.

"I am coming to get you," you say as you rummage around your room to find something to throw over your PJs.

"Okay, I will sit right here until you get here," Paige says as she sits on the stool of someone else's table. The people give her a questioning look. "Oops, maybe not there," Paige says moving. "I will sit right here until you get here," Paige says as she is sitting one seat over but still at the same table.

"Did you get that? I moved." Paige says making sure you know where she is at. It doesn't matter as none of what she is saying is adding up since you can't see her at all.

"Okay B, don't move," you tell her.

"Imma be a statue," Paige says as she thinks she is staying still as a pole but is actually swaying to the music.

You let out a little laugh, "I'll see you soon."

You hang up and find Paige's location on your Find My app. You head to the bar, parking right out front and leaving your hazards on. Walking in, you immediately regret the decision to throw on just an oversized sweatshirt of Paige's and wish you would have opted for some sweats as well.

As you make your way through the crowd - which is surprising for a Tuesday night, and find Azzi and Evina first.

"Have you guys seen Paige?" You ask looking around.

Evina shakes her head no. Azzi nods her head over to the little stage in the corner as Paige steps up to sing karaoke. You are also now shaking your head as you watch your best friend make a fool of herself. The more you think about it in the seconds before the song starts, you think it is better to have her upset with you rather than videos of her singing karaoke drunk in a bar circulating the internet.

You weave your way to the stage and grab her arm, removing the mic from her hand. She yells your name in excitement until she sees you are taking her away from the spotlight.

"Let's get you home B," you say as try to get her off the stage.

"No, I wanna singggg," Paige whines.

"You can sing in the car, let's go." You pull her off the stage then wrap an arm around her waist to steady her. "Trust me, you will thank me later."

Paige lets you guide her out of the crowd, her arm now around your shoulder as she waves to her other teammates. You just shake your head and laugh as the girls follow the two of you.

Once you get back to your car, three girls pile in the back as you stick Paige in the passenger seat. You drive them back to your apartment building and begin to part ways.

"Thank you for coming to get us," Evina says with a hiccup.

"Always," you say as you wave goodbye to them.

Paige is asleep and you know once drunk Paige is asleep, she is not the easiest to get to do things.

"B, wake up. We need to go inside," you say shaking her arm. She brushes you off and turns the other way.

"B. I want to go to bed, can you please get moving." You beg the girl who makes no movement to move from your car.

Finally, you get tired enough to grab her arm and pull her out of the car. Her eyes only open a little as she now has to hold her own weight Her arms come to wrap around you, hugging you and nestling her head into the crook of your neck.

"Hi B," you say as you rub her back with one hand and close the door with the other, making sure to lock your car in the process.

"Smell like heaven, favorite smell," she says as her breath tickles your neck.

"Thanks B," you chuckle as you try to shift her to one side of you so you can walk the two of you up to your apartment. Her head stays hidden in your neck as she is now sidestepping with you as you lead her home.

Once the two of you are in your apartment you take her to her room.

"No," she says like a little kid.

"B, you are the one who was just about to sleep in my car." You say.

"Want yours," she says with a pout.

You roll your eyes. At this point you let her go and she puts her hand out to steady herself on the wall. You walk away from her and remove her sweatshirt. When you do, your shirt rides up giving Paige the perfect view of your bare back before you pull it down and walk into your room.

Paige instantly follows you into your room and plops down on your bed - her mind tells her she wants you but her body is exhausted.

She rolls over as you come to her. You start by taking her shoes off and placing them on the ground. She then lifts her arms.

"Flip over," you tell her as she rolls back over so she is lying face down on your bed. You pull at the sleeves of her jacket and remove it. She is left in her pants and tank top. Good enough, you tell yourself as you go to turn the light off.

When you finally lay down you feel Paige shift over to you. Her arm comes to hang around your waist.

You sigh.

Paige's head comes to find the crook of your neck again, her lips painfully close to the sweet spot on your neck.

Little to Paige's knowledge, she has been on your mind as much as you have been on hers.

You lean in just enough to have her lips meet your skin and you release the softest moan. Paige's hand grips your waist as she brings you closer to her, lips starting to move on your neck.

You savor her movements as she begins to pepper kisses up towards your lips.

Before her lips meet yours, you snap back into reality and remember she is not in her right mind.

"We shouldn't do this," you whisper. Paige's movements continue - not hearing what you said.

You place your hand on her cheek and bring her face up to yours. She leans in wanting to feel your lips on hers.

"You're drunk, B," you say. "You should go to sleep."

She looks into your eyes with what you believe to be love but tell yourself it is the alcohol.

She holds your gaze then kisses your nose and curls back up into your side.

The next day at practice Paige struggles and Geno is not having any of it. By the end of it, Paige looks like she has taken a beating. Everyone goes into the locker room to shower and head out but Paige stays back to go through more reps.

"B, you need rest." You say as you walk back out to see her working on her midrange jumper.

You know she isn't going to stop until she is content with her shot so you stand there watching her shot.

After about 10 minutes she finally takes a break.

"Adjust your thumb, it is going to lax when you release." You tell her.

She goes up for another shot, making the change you recommended. It goes beautifully into the basket. She shakes her head.

"I still don't know how you do it," she says a smile finally dawning her lips. "And why didn't you say that when Geno was drilling into me, huh?"

You laugh. "Because then you wouldn't learn to not drink in the middle of the week."

She looks at you with disbelief. She throws the ball at you and you catch it, dribbling it then shooting it.

Paige watches you in awe.

"Do it again," she says. You shake your head no, not really sure why you put it up in the first place.

"Please," she says as she brings you another ball, stands right in front of you, and places it in your hands. "Please."

You close your eyes and proceed to do a shootaround, Paige feeding you the ball. She watches you, eyes never leaving you. When you are finished you are slightly out of breath. You didn't miss a single one which even you found impressive.

Paige walks over to you.

"That was incredible - why did you ever stop?" She asks, not realizing what she is asking.

You sigh and sit on the ground. Patting the spot next to you. She sits across from you, wanting to see you.

"Before we met, I was set on going to UConn to play ball - there was no doubt in anyone who saw me play. They all knew I was going to play for the best," you say referring to Geno.

Paige bites back the joke she wants to make about how much you are hyping yourself up right now - she doesn't want to jeopardize your comfort in this moment.

"And no, I am not just bragging about myself - you can ask Coach yourself. He came to watch me play when I was in 7th grade, already counting down the days until I made my debut here." You say.

"That all changed when my mom left us on my 13th birthday. I woke up that morning excited for the day only to walk downstairs to see a single piece of luggage and my parents fighting. They kept yelling about me and what was going to be my future. She said she was tired of losing her daughter and that I cared more about basketball than I did about her. It was ironic because it was her and dad that taught me how to play. She was my mother and she believed I didn't love her and chose the sport over her. To be fair, I loved the sport more than I loved a lot of things, but never her. She cursed out my dad for ruining my life, saying things about how he was going to break me and I would never make it under his pressure. She didn't understand the relationship my dad and I have. I destroyed my parent's marriage and was the reason she left." You say and quickly wipe away the tears. Paige has scooted her way to you and has taken hold of one of your hands.

"I watched her walk out that day - what was meant to be the best birthday turned into the worst. I was sitting on the stairs as she walked out. She turned to look at me but didn't say a thing. She had said all she had to say. And she walked out."

"My game changed after that - had me in my head. I quit shortly after that. Quit playing that is, started learning the why behind all of it. Behind every play, every move, as many players as I could. I thought understanding the why behind the game would help me understand why my mom left. It didn't of course, but I was still just a kid you know? I didn't understand it fully - I still don't understand it fully."

"My dad saw me deep dive into learning the game from a different perspective and saw how I was excelling in learning the game faster than I learned how to play it. We both sort of just threw ourselves into it - neither of us knowing how to cope. It is how we connect with one another."

"I have started shooting again - but it still hurts. I don't know if there will ever be a time when I am shooting that I don't think back to that day. It is like a blessing and a curse. I feel free when I have a ball in my hand but am reminded of the cost. It clears my head but also opens old wounds."

Paige sits there and listens to every word you say. Out of the 5+ years of friendship, you have only ever mentioned your mom once. Paige remembers when you told her about your mom in the park but you never mentioned this. She feels tears well up in her own eyes.

Her hands come up to hold your face. You can't look her in the eyes so you just close them. She pulls you in and holds you.

She doesn't say anything - not that she would know what to say. All she knows how to do is hold you.

Once the sun begins to set and the gym begins to darken, the two of you head back home.

The team decided to hit the town that weekend after the game. You tag along, knowing you could use some fun. You stick to your classic while the team does a whole variety of different shots and drinks.

"Take a shot with us!" Evina yells as she orders another round.

"You know she doesn't, she likes her classic," Paige answers for you. You push past her, already feeling the effects of your first drink.

"No, I'll take one," you say, already shooting it back before Paige can stop you. She just watches you in surprise. You grab hers and throw it back.

"Ok, I think someone needs to slow down," Paige says and tries to grab your drink. You just box her out and tell her no.

"Let me have some fun B," you say. "I need a little fun."

Paige puts her hands up and lets you do what you want.

You make your way to the dance floor and start dancing with anyone and everyone. Paige watches you from a distance.

"Go dance with her," Azzi says as she comes up to Paige.

"Nah, she can have her fun," Paige responds and takes another sip.

Paige hates seeing others hands on your body but she isn't going to do anything to stop them. Rather she is going to find her own distraction.

By the early hours of the morning, Azzi can't find Paige anywhere and takes it upon herself to make sure you get home safely. When she takes you to your apartment, she realizes you don't have your key and is forced to take you to hers. You sleep on her couch.

You wake up to a major hangover, wanting nothing more than to be in your own bed. As you make your way out of your friend's apartment and stumble to your own, you come across the same realization that she had last night. You are keyless.

You knock hoping Paige is home. You are about to give up when you hear the ruffling of the lock.

When the door opens you are not met with your best friend, but some girl you believe is on the cheer squad.

You look at her with confusion and walk right past her. Even in your hungover state you know the first rule you and Paige had about the apartment was to not bring anyone back after a night out. All flings were to be done anywhere but there. You are quickly sobered up as you walk into Paige's room expecting to find her asleep in her bed but she is not. You walk back out into the living room - she's not on the couch.

"She's in her room," the girl says as she wraps herself in one of your sweatshirts. She probably thinks it's Paiges. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. She points to your room.

You push the door open slightly to reveal a sleeping Paige, naked in your bed. Clothes scattered throughout the room.

You grab a few of your things, desperately trying not to look at her.

"I don't think she will want you to take her stuff," the girl says as sees you packing some things into a bag.

You ignore her and finish grabbing what you need.

"Hey! I was talking to you!" The girl says loud enough to cause Paige to stir.

"Babe, why are you yelling?" Paige's sleepy voice cuts through the air., as she turns in time to catch her eyes meet yours before walking out.

Paige begins to scramble to her feet, forgetting the fact that she is butt naked, and attempts to go after you but you slam the door and are long gone.

"Paigey, come back to bed," the girl says, already lying in your bed. She's ready for another round.

Paige tunes her out, as all she can think about is how royally she messed up.

Paige is pacing the apartment trying to figure out what happened the night before. She swore she and the cheerleader were heading back to her place. The thing is, Paige doesn't remember being that drunk. She can pretty much remember everything.

Paige sent the girl away after you had left, making sure to get your sweatshirt back from her before she did.

Paige knows she messed up - you guys really only had the one rule and she had broken that. Not only that but she has brought another girl back to your room. What the hell was she thinking?

She tried calling you multiple times but it went straight to voicemail. She then tries calling all of her teammates to see if you went to any of them - only two of them answered.

"Don't worry P, she's probably just sleeping off the hangover from last night - she was super wasted." That was the only real response she got.

Paige decides to go to Azzi's to see if she has seen you. Azzi peaks her head through the door. Once she sees it's Paige, she steps outside and closes the door.

"Azzi - I know she is in there, let me see her," Paige says.

"Paige, I don't think that is the best idea," Azzi's voice is soft.

She tries to go by her but Azzi grabs her arms and looks in her eyes.

"Just give her some time, okay?"

"I don't know what happened," Paige says in defeat.

"I know P, I've got her. Just go get some rest okay?" Azzi says.

You don't go to the apartment for the next few days. You avoid going to any place Paige might be - that includes staying away from the team. The first time you see her is at practice on Tuesday, seeing that you weren't there on Monday.

The team is in the gym and Paige is anxiously waiting to see if you will be there. When you walk in alongside Geno and the other assistant coaches she is relieved but also now extremely nervous.

You don't give her any attention throughout practice. Paige even tries altering her shot to get you to come over to tell her how to fix it but you never do. All she gets is Geno yelling at her to focus or he will make her do suicides.

At the end of practice, you slip out before the girls leave the locker. Little to your knowledge, Paige never went in and was waiting in the parking lot for you.

She calls your name. You hesitate but keep walking. She runs to you and grabs your arm.

"Don't touch me," you say pulling it away.

Paige is taken aback, losing her words.

You look at her waiting for her to say something, anything really. When she doesn't, you speak.

"Okay if you won't talk, I will. I told you the darkest part of me - a part of me that less than a handful of people know. I opened up to you because I love you. I love you, Paige. I thought you felt the same, I thought I saw it in your eyes but then coming home the other day and seeing you brought another girl home. There was a fire that burned within my veins that fizzled out leaving nothing but disappointment. It wasn't that you slept with another girl because that wasn't the issue. The issue was that we have one rule. One rule. Not relating to our lessons but to our home. Our one rule, thrown out the window. See it might have been different if I walked in and you weren't in MY bed. But that is the only thing I can see in my head Paige - what the two of you were doing in my safe space."

Paige wants to say something but nothing comes out.

You sigh. You feel defeated.

"I don't know what to say B, I don't have the energy to fight with you." You look at her for the first time in days - your eyes are tired. "I forgive you. But I need to make myself clear when I say I need space."

Paige wants to argue, tell you how big of a mistake she has made and how much she regrets it. She wants to tell you she loves you and has for years now. She wants to tell you she isn't going to leave you. That the girl meant nothing and all the girls over the years have been a distraction for her - a distraction to get you off her mind. But none of that comes out.

You nod and get in your car and drive away.

Paige watches you leave. She doesn't know what to feel more, the peace of knowing you love her or the pain in knowing you are so much better than she is. She doesn't deserve you - that is the thought that clings to her.

She doesn't deserve you but needs you to survive.

AN: It almost feels worse when forgiveness is given instead of asked for. Let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for all your love and support 💙

[chrissv4mp]

— I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE -

the prologue , it was important. — | — ...back — | — next... — |

summary: chris has an obsession with you, one of the most famous pop stars of the last few years. when he goes out to eat at a local diner with some friends, he spots you, and his obsession turns to something bigger.

pairing: stalker!chris sturniolo × singer!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, murder, weapons, blood, obsessive behavior, suggestive moments, breaking & entering, crying, arguments, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, etc. more than half of these topics are mentioned in later chapters, not the prologue.

author's note: if the person reading this is sensitive to any of the topics listed above, please do not read this. i am not responsible for your own media consumption, and will not change any aspect of the story for your own pleasure.

author's note 2: no but real talk, this is probably the most motivated i've ever been while writing/coming up with a story😭 i really hope all of you enjoy this and please remember this is just my imagination and is not real at all!!!

word count: 1.8k

"don't be afraid of me,

i'm what you need."

chris laughs at his brother's joke, hand landing on matt's shoulder as he clings onto the brunette boy. nick just chuckles, glancing over at madison only to see her laughing her ass off as well.

nate smiles at matt, taking a quick look at chris before he lets out a quiet giggle. chris was always making the group laugh, he was just unintentionally funny at times.

chris begins to tickle matt with a cheeky grin on his face, resulting in his brother pushing him away. matt steps in front of chris before opening the door for his friends, flashing a smile at madison, nate, and nick. he only sticks his tongue out at chris, and his younger brother does the same.

matt couldn't help but laugh before following close behind the group, looking back to make sure nobody else was coming through the door.

"haven't been here in years." nick says, taking in the atmosphere of the older building as he looks around the place. he can't believe it's been so long.

madison listens with intent as matt chimes in, adding on to his brothers new topic, "yeah, i can't believe it's still up."

"we always went here after our lacrosse and hockey games for a celebration, even if we didn't win. it became a tradition until we moved to la, so it's special being here again." the middle triplet explains with a smile on his face, reminiscing the vibe of the place.

nate hums at his friends memories, looking around the small diner that was mostly empty. there wasn't many people who came here as often, but it was very popular back when the triplets were in high-school.

chris grabs both of his brothers, pulling them closer to him with a huge smile on his face, "yup, gotta love the memories we made in this place." nick grimaces at his brother's cheery tone, but he still pats his back affectionately.

matt just ruffles his hair before distentangling his and his brothers limbs, settling his hands in his jean pockets as he waits for someone to speak again.

"let's go sit?" madison suggests, and the whole group collectively agrees as matt and madison lead the way to a booth in the corner of the building.

all of them immerse in conversation as they look over at the menu, chris looking over at the kids menu occasionally and getting interested in the short list of options. chicken nuggets did sound good, but he wasn't seriously gonna get them.

"kid seriously got dino nuggets," matt laughs, and chris only flips him off, "shit is crazy."

madison looks over at chris, grabbing his forearm to slowly bring it back down on the table. as chris turns his head to look at her, she sighs, eyes wide in warning. "if you bark at me again..."

nick laughs, looking over at nate and matt to catch their reactions. nate snorts and matt laughs harder at his best friends reaction. he can't help but grab nates shoulder and rest along his back comfortably, tears almost pricking in his eyes.

madison forks a piece of steak into her mouth, looking over at chris to see that he's already munching on his meal.

"slow down, chris. you're gonna get the hiccups." matt says, tone warning as he looks at his brother with a slightly concerned expression.

the brunette picks up his sandwich before biting into it, his eyes trained on his younger brother as he bites down on a fry.

the others begin to eat, chatting in between bites as they get sucked into the topic of work. chris hates the topic, but he has no choice but to listen in. some of the stuff he finds interesting, like designs for merch and new ideas for vlogs over the summer.

he can't help but let his attention wander off from the conversation in front of him, eyes roaming the old diner and looking around for any other things that catch his eye. he doesn't want to think about work the entire rest of the night, that's actually what he wants to get his mind off of.

his foot taps against the side of the booths seat, his leg hanging off but not quite touching the floor just yet. did they raise the seating in this place? maybe, but all he could focus on at the moment was a girl sitting across from his friend group.

chris could only see the side of her face, but he knew who it was. he knew very well who hid in a booth at the back of the diner. it was y/n l/n, one of singers he's been obsessing over lately. what was she doing in boston? no, what was she doing in such a low-quality diner like this? he seriously didn't understand why huge a-list celebrities went to run-down places.

maybe for the aesthetic, the scenery. he does the same thing, but he never thinks bad of the places he goes to. nothing is really considered bad unless it's falling apart or smells horrible. like chobani yogurt. he couldn't stand the smell of that... substance. he wouldn't even clarify it as food!

"what the actual fuck." chris says out in the open, louder than he intended to but not loud enough that she could hear.

nick tenses up at his brothers tone, grabbing onto matts shoulder tight as he looks over at the younger boy, "what. chris, what?!"

matt winces at the small pain, but he also becomes alert, looking around the place for any signs of danger. he sees none, and his eyes return to chris again. everybody's eyes are on him now, but the longer-haired boys eyes aren't on them.

"chris!" nate exclaims, shaking his friends shoulder and finally making him come back to reality.

the brunette has to hold himself back from pointing, gripping the seat under him as he speaks quietly, like if he spoke any louder the building would collapse, "y/n l/n. y/n l/n is in that booth right-fucking-there, look, look!!"

the entire groups heads turn in sync, looking the direction that chris' eyes were pointed at. madison, nick, and matt's jaws dropped, and nate only looked around in confusion. madison began to shake matt by his shoulders, and he let her.

he was sure the entire group, minus nate, was in shock. they all had the same questions as chris, why was she here? who was that girl she was with? would she take a picture with them if they asked?

chris didn't give them any more time to think, practically jumping out of his seat and holding himself back from running straight towards her. he was about to meet his favorite female singer ever, and possibly even take a picture with her? how could this day get any better, seriously.

"hi, excuse me. sorry to bother you, but could i get a picture?" chris smiled, eyes glistening in the dim lighting of the diner, and maybe even in admiration of the beautiful girl in front of him.

she looked up from her friend, who chris knew as olivia rodrigo, and looked at him with a sweet smile. he swore her teeth glowed, "of course,"

she stood up from the booth, the drop being insanely tall for her shorter figure. chris had a couple inches on y/n which resulted in him looking down at the h/c girl. she cocked an eyebrow as she took a better look at him, eyes basically glowing at the realization.

"hey, aren't you that famous youtuber that films with his brother? correct me if i'm wrong, but you're chris, right?" she asks with slight confusion in her voice, and chris just stares in awe at the knowledge that y/n knows who he is.

y/n stares at him awkwardly, hearing olivia giggle behind her quietly. that's what snaps chris back to reality, and he nods his head, "yeah, yes, that's me! how'd you know? do you.. do you watch us?

he watches you. interviews, live performances, listening parties. that's what he meant, he wasn't some creep that followed around people he liked. probably.

she nodded her head as she looked up at the taller boy, still shocked that one of her favorite celebrities came up to her. y/n didn't even see him walk in, and now here he was, asking for a picture. "yeah! and i would assume you listen to me, hm?"

chris nodded happily, a grin on his face as he stared into her eyes with adoration. y/n was so much prettier in real life. now, he could really see all of her facial features, he could see the features that made her special, "yes! i love your music so fucking much. it always brings me up whenever i'm down, you're really a huge part in my life."

y/n made a gesture with her hands, putting them over her heart as she looked at chris with her doe eyes, "that means so much to me, chris. you're so sweet, thank you."

she couldn't help but wrap her arms around the boy, and chris only welcomed her warmly, taking in the scent of her perfume as his head rested on the h/c-girls shoulder. she smelled as good as she looked. damn, the things he'd do just to have her perfume on his nightstand.

fuck, the things he'd do just for her love, even. he would steal for her, and he had just met the girl. no, it felt like they've been friends for an eternity, and now they were just meeting again for the first time in a while. that's the real story. it's not fake.

"i saw you on the screens

i know we're meant to be."

matt opened the door again, beckoning all of his friends and his brother out the door of the old diner. he watched as chris stood still, leaning against the wall as he stated over at y/n. she was making small talk with her waitress as she signed on the bill.

chris couldn't get enough of the girl after that interaction they had. he couldn't get her out of his mind, she was just there, clouding all of his senses with nothing but y/n.

"hey, buddy!" matt snapped, and chris turned to look over at his brother who just stared at him with suspicion in his gaze, "are you coming or not? we don't have all night, y'know."

the younger boy shrugged, turning back to look at that beautiful girl, "i'll take an uber home. you guys can take madison to her hotel and nate to his house, i just have a few things to do."

matt sighed quietly, worry and suspicion flashing across his features as he looked at his brother. he just shrugged it off before walking out the door, and chris smiled when he heard the door shut.

he had things to do tonight, important things. his brothers wouldn't care if he was out late tonight, right? i mean, after all, he had to do this. it was important.

comment to be on this taglist! @livialifesblog @zayyluvz @snowysosturn @mirioosos @1800-love-me

[impactedfates]

Detective Oblivious - Various Genshin Characters x GN! Reader

★ Summary: Your best friend lately has been acting strange. Could they have a crush on someone?! You have to get to the bottom of it…though perhaps you can start by noticing how they look at you

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Alhaitham, Ayato, Kazuha, Xiao, Yelan, Ningguang

★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Fluff + Maybe a bit of Crack

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: HSR Ver Here // Semi-Proof Read

Honestly I don't blame you for not noticing Alhaitham likes you. He's very hard to read. But at the same time, it doesn't take a detective to notice how he's more careful with his words when talking to you. He doesn't necessarily care what you think of him, even if he likes you, however he does wish for you to see him in a more positive light.

So even though you've been friends for so long, his sudden change in how he talks to you is so you can hopefully see how he feels about you as he believes you'd be able to notice but well...much to his dismay and annoyance, you don't.

You got the part that he likes someone, but not that those feelings are directed towards you. Have you not seen the longing stares he gives you when you're doing anything? How he's more lenient in what you're doing?? How when he was The Acting Grand Sage, how he always looked over anything you wrote to him first???

Clearly not as, as when he enters his home he can see you talking to Kaveh to see if he knows anything about who he likes. Kaveh, noticing him behind you, simply smiled. Although Alhaitham wants to confess to you, he'd rather him telling you directly or you finding out yourself without the need of help from others. And Kaveh knew this...

"Oh, he likes yo-"

A book was suddenly thrown at Kaveh as the Scribe quickly took you away.

"Wh- hey! He was going to tell me something"

"Didn't want him to say something I should be saying...I should be the one telling you I like you"

Many people caught on to the way Ayato treated you differently towards others, in fact. Both Ayaka and Thoma knew he liked you before he himself knew. Yet, why was it that everyone but you knew how much he held you dear to his heart?

Ayato never had much free time to be frank, however unlike his other friends and even family. He would never send anyone as many gifts as he did to you. Anytime you liked something you'd have it delivered to your house right away. You always thanked him for it, beaming as you looked at it. Although you did slightly feel bad as some of the things you off handily mention wanting are quite expensive. But the Commissioner doesn't care. Seeing that smile is enough for him.

What he does care about however, is how dense you are towards his acts of affection. As stated, he gives you more gifts than anyone else he knows. But another thing he does that he's surprised doesn't get you to catch on, is him "jokingly" calling your Mx Kamisato (he's half joking, he does want to marry you)

What surprises him more is that you somehow think it's directed to someone else?? You question him on who he's referring to even though he was looking directly at you.

Eventually he gently backs you into a corner and makes you face him, turning your chin towards him.

"My dear...I've tried everything but you don't get the hint. So I'll say it here...I love you~"

You found some poems that Kazuha had written, and it's about someone. In fact, it's about someone romantically. This caused you to quickly search for who said love poem is about.

One of the kids witnessed you ranting to yourself about who could've taken the samurai's heart and told Beidou, who then found it amusing enough to tell Kazuha who at first laughs it off before realising you've likely read the poems he wrote. He is thankful you haven't found out it's about you, but at the same time. He doesn't think you've met anyone that's like you, and the love poem does describe you near perfectly. Still...at least you haven't found out?

He watches from a small distance as you glance at him before looking away. This happens a lot, especially when he's talking to a friend who questions your behaviour. In fact, you've done this so much that people assume you're Kazuha's partner and want his attention. They even comment about it to which you both politely explain that you're just friends.

Eventually though, he makes no comment when someone assumes the two of you are dating, which makes you question him which leads to you finally figuring out who the love poem is about.

"Wait so...the love poems..."

"Is about you yes, I like you"

I can see him being quite confused himself when he realises he likes someone and might even tell you about how he's feeling. He won't directly say who it is but he tells enough to let you know he's fallen DEEP in love with someone.

Now the two of you are trying to figure out just who's the one making his heart beat faster and clouding his mind. In truth, Xiao quickly realizes it's you that's causing it. But he can't tell you, he's a bit too flustered to tell you, especially with how cute you look trying to figure it out yourself.

So he lets the search go on, he allows you to drag him to meet various people and see if he feels his heart beating faster. And while it does, that's only because you're beside him. Nothing else. He was happy enough to let you guess till you gave up, he didn't think you'd like him back anyways.

However Hu Tao would beg to differ, she's been listening to you rant about how you loved Xiao and all that stuff. In fact, she's even heard from Zhongli that Xiao likes you. So when you come along with the Adeptus in tow and ask him if he feels any different towards her. She has a feeling she knows what's going on. And why not play matchmaker?

"You don't feel anything at all?"

"No..."

The funeral directly quickly piped up, gently pushing you into Xiao's arms and watching his face burst into shades of crimson.

"What about now? Having the love of your life in your arms is bound to make you feel something right?"

She...out right flirts with you. And not in a way to get info from you, just...actual flirting. Yelan knows what she wants and tends to get what she wants. More so in terms of information, but she also wants you and will try anything to make you realize her feelings for you.

She probably knows you like her as well, so this should be easy right? Just flirt with you and you'll get the picture right?...Yeah...

"I would love to spend the future with you y'know darling~ Especially in the same house"

"Oh that would be great"

"Exa-"

"Rent would be so much cheaper if we were roommates"

She...finds your obliviousness cute...in a weird way though. She finds it even more cute that you do in fact recognize her flirting eventually...but think she's using you as practice. Now she spots you trying to figure out who it is so you can help her more. And "act" like her crush. She does need to eventually tell you so you can stop searching, I mean. The answer is clear if you look in a mirror.

"C'mon Lanlan, you need to tell who you actually like"

"Hm? Oh but I am sweetie~"

Ningguang is obviously highly respected and of course has her own set of admirers. You used to see her reading each letter with care and consideration before laughing. Not in a hateful way, truly she's grateful people like her that much. But recently she seems to read them a bit faster, seemingly searching for one name in particular.

It's clear to you she wants a certain person to be in her pile of confession letters. And you'll figure out who. I mean, what better way to help your friend then finding out who she likes and seeing if they like her back right :D

Well...word got to her that you've been searching through some of her things, nothing personal but just around her office. Not to mention observing her more closely lately which she plays off as you being interested in what she has to say. But when she hears that you've apparently scared a poor soul with some of your questioning she goes to confront you.

To which you weakly explain you want to help her find out if her crush likes her back or not. She simply laughs a bit, surprised. She's been giving you special treatment ever since she found out her feelings for you. You've been given bigger discounts because she just cannot let her "darling" pay so much. Alongside other things she thought were obvious hints in the hopes you'll write her a confession letter.

"Well...if you want to help me find out if they like me back, answer me this"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like me?"

Anyone else find it hard to know when someone likes them? Cuz I do, hence this idea sprang forth. Not all the characters included are ones I simp for but I thought it would be interesting to add them (I literally only simp for Alhaitham and Ayato out of the characters included tbh nsoaorgr)

[bouquetface]

PAC: Next Serious Relationship

I will be detailed asf. This reading won’t be for everyone. Only take as entertainment.

One.

Your next partner:

Curly dark hair, tanned skinned (this person could be mixed or appear racially ambiguous). Age 28-30. Either from somewhere sunny or currently resides somewhere sunny. Nonchalant. Aqua & Scorpio placements.

General reading. Not every reading you come across will resonate. I will not try to appeal to everyone. Just giving honest reads.

Your relationship story:

This won't be love at first sight. This person has a bad reputation. They aren't a cheater but they have spent their twenties messing around. Before you meet, they'll be sick of this bachelor lifestyle. They have many options but they don't trust any of them. They can't imagine a future with them. They fantasize about you a lot before meeting. Their ideal partner, the future you'll have together. They would never admit this to anyone around them but they feel lonely. They miss you before having met you. All this yearning makes me think you have past lives together.

When you meet, it'll likely be through mutual friends. You could be invited to some kind of networking event. Or possibly it's just a party. Very busy place. So many talking you almost can’t hear the people you're talking with. The group you come with will get along with their group. You’ll see each other and their friend group again at future events.

I'll be honest their intentions at the start aren't the best. They'll be the one to add you on social media. They think you're hot and want to add you to their roster. You'll find them attractive but only want to keep them as friend due to their reputation. You could intuitively know or be warned by a friend. You likely will only hang out in a group the first few times. They'll be bummed out, they haven't been friendzoned ever. It'll actually make them suspicious that you like someone else in your mutual social circle.

This is a slow burn relationship. Trust has to be built before you even seriously consider them as a partner. You don't take any shit. You want to be the one, not an option. They are really forced to work for your time. Like when they ask to hang, you aren’t responding yes immediately. If it’s late at night, you’ll say no, I have work in the morning. Or simply no, it’s late. You aren’t stupid, you know there’s no pure reason for someone to be hitting you up at night like this. Slowly but surely, they’ll realize you are the one they’ve been daydreaming about. This will make them get their act together. They will be proving themselves to you. They see you’re an honest, hardworking person. You could be very busy with college or work. They’ll have a lot of respect for this. Accommodating for your schedule, remembering little things you say about coworkers or professors. You’ll have a lot of inside jokes.

There is an element of surprise here. It’s hard to say what it is when it’s a surprise. They may surprise you by bringing you your favorite drink a few times. They may go research something you’re interested in which could surprise you. This surprise might be what makes you think they’re the one. They may hate that you made them wait so long, but trust me, this person needed that humbling. And it’ll be so worth it. Once they get you, all they’re focused on is keeping you.

⚠️ Warning though!! ⚠️

When you two go official, it's going to upset someone. This is where this pile is divided into two groups. For some, it could be a guy friend you have - he thought he had a chance. His attitude will change towards you when you enter this relationship. You'll tell your person but they won't give a fuck. They’re a confident & secure person. They may even laugh at the idea of this guy thinking he had a chance with you. Your friend will be hurt but move on. I don’t even see the friendship ending in this scenario. Once they meet their own person, all past crushes are forgotten.

Now for the other half of you. It’s not as simple of a situation. For some of you, it is a woman. She's been lurking in your person's past. She isn't an ex. But she is someone who was talking to your person. I did warn you that your person had a past. She thought when he was ready to settle down, he'd choose her. She's likely been hanging around for a year, if not YEARS. Oh, this is a bit sad. I'm hearing Jack Harlow's Lil Secret lmao. "'you confident that we soulmates". She really thought she was the one.

Your person is going to cut off everyone he was talking to when you two get serious. She'll be furious. Then, she’ll be in denial. Likely stalking both your socials for months. She thinks you two won’t last. She is convinced that your person is going to come back for her. Embarrassing.

This won't affect the relationship at all though. You two are destined, you'll be protected from this woman. She’ll disappear after a few months. She is bitter. ngl it’s her fault for building up this idea in her head.

I asked for clarification on this woman. Your person did not promise this woman a relationship. They were honest to all their past hookups that they do NOT want a relationship. This woman is just delusional. But I don’t want to hate too much, a lot of people probably been in her situation before. And for most, she’s not batshit and will move on after a few weeks/months. However, some of you do need to be warned, this woman is a total bitch. Will start rumours/talk shit about you with her friends. She’ll get over it eventually. She has no choice lmao you and your person are a forever couple.

It’s honestly giving rockstar boyfriend. Not to imply that he is going to be a musician. This isn’t likely for most. But the fact he is desired by many and well connected in his city. Very passionate relationship. Major Scorpio vibes. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Two.

Your Next Partner:

Sag & Cap placements. Religious. Clean & polished style. Tall, Nice smile, blue eyes. Funny, polite & charming. May wear or like watches. Smells nice.

General reading. Not every reading you come across will resonate. I will not try to appeal to everyone. Just giving honest reads.

Your relationship story:

The feminine will be approached in public. This person is polite and straight forward. They may compliment you and ask for your number. Some of you could meet in an academic environment. After the lecture, they could approach you. For other’s, it could be while you run your usual errands.

Although, they’re very charming and respectful, you could be a bit suspicious. Maybe it is because you tell your friends or family, and they warn you. They’ll think or say it’s not normal for a complete stranger to ask someone out anymore. They are coming from a place of concern. They’ll encourage you to set the date somewhere in a public setting and get their socials. This could stress you out a bit. It could feel too soon to put pressure on them by asking/requesting these things. However, they’ll handle it very well. Very understanding & mature. And once you get to know each other and meet each other’s friend groups & families, everyone is super supportive.

They are serious about you from the start. In a non-creep way, they may have been watching you for a while. They see you as a sweet and kind person. You could be very sensitive. They are a bit opposite. They do well under pressure. Their job could be one that requires them to do well under stress. Maybe law enforcement.

You could have something they believe you need protecting from. This could be a sour relationship you have or had. After a few weeks or months of dating, you may open about your past or family. Some of you had a bad relationship with your ex. It left you with low self esteem. For others, you have a family member that puts too much pressure on you. This could be a very controlling parent. This person will be very understanding, they may actually relate to having a tough parent. It’s not that they don’t love their parent though. This parent likely the father may be very tough on them. Your person could be the eldest. They likely grew up feeling responsible for a lot. Feeling like they need to be the perfect example for their younger siblings. & Feeling like they NEED to make their parent’s proud. This conversation will bring you two closer.

This relationship will feel like a blessing from God. If you aren’t religious, you may become open to the idea. Your person isn’t religious in an extreme orthodox way but faith is important to them. They may casually attend a church or temple. They definitely celebrate religious holidays. They will introduce you to their family very quickly. Maybe an event is coming up and they feel it’s the best opportunity to meet everyone. They don’t have a single doubt about you. To them you are their future spouse. They’re very confident about it. Their family will be very kind to you. They will feel you are a bit out of their league. You may be invited to an activity without your spouse. For example, if they have sisters, you could be to invited to a mother-daughter day out. Do your nails, go out for brunch, etc.

No relationship is perfect. But this is relationship is very close to perfect. You guys will likely do a lot of outdoor activities. Camping, beach day, road trip, etc. You create a lot of beautiful memories together. A lot of photos to show your kids.

Everyone will know you as the IT/Power couple. No one has any doubts that you’ll last forever. Friends of yours and theirs may come to you guys for relationship advice. They may tell you guys they wish they could have a relationship like yours. They aren’t jealous in an evil eye way though. They are truly supportive. Your friend’s are fed up with trying to find someone loyal and trustworthy. They’ll tell you dating is so difficult in this day and age. And these conversations will make you so grateful for having found your person. You guys will likely be the oldest relationship in your social circles. Not in age but as in you’ve been together the longest. So you may meet early on in your 20s. Soon, no one will be able to remember a time before you guys were together.

It’s giving Blake Lively & Ryan Reynolds vibes. 💗💗

[xomakara]

Welcome Home

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | In which you jump Seonghwa’s bones after he comes home from tour.

PAIRING | Seonghwa x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | Idol!Seonghwa, non-idol!Reader, smut with no plot, literally just pure unadulterated filthy smut, consensual sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby), praise kink, kitchen counter sex, filthy sex, oral sex

RATING | Mature, Explicit, 18+, NSFW, MDNI

LENGTH | 3,281 words

TAGLIST |  @noir-aria

NETWORKS |  @cromernet (reuploaded so only tagging nets that haven't reblogged it yet)

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Literally wrote this in like 4 hours because my friend wanted me to. just pure, filthy pwp doesn't take me that long to write lolol. Apologies if it sounds rushed or whatnot lol. My friend sent me this video and I was inspired lololol. And now I shall drown myself in holy water.

Seonghwa was not ready for the attack you launched at him when he strode into the apartment after a few months of touring, but he was never one to turn you down. You'd jumped him in the entryway, lips finding his and legs around his waist before he could even get his jacket off.

He had his hands under your ass, keeping you from falling, and when he tried to pull away, you bit his lip, earning a deep groan. You smirked at him, and he walked forward, pressing your back into the wall and kissing you deeply. Your fingers slid into his hair and you tugged him closer, your body grinding against his.

You moaned softly, and he pulled away, "I missed you, baby." He murmured, kissing your jaw. “But why the sudden attack?" He asked.

You pouted, "You're supposed to be happy." You said, and he laughed.

"Baby, I am happy. I'm very, very happy. But this is unexpected. Not that I'm complaining." He said, squeezing your ass and kissing you again. "It's just, I expected a nice greeting, a kiss, a hug, maybe something to eat, and a shower."

"But-"

"But nothing." He said, "I'm not upset. I just wanted to know what had you so needy. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

You looked at him, biting your lip, "I don’t like watching my boyfriend half naked and gyrating his hips through a screen. I know it’s your job but just the thought of other girls seeing your naked chest or your sexy, smoldering looks...I don't like it. I don’t share, Seonghwa.”

"Awww baby." He smiled, kissing you, "How many times do I have to tell you I only have eyes for you? You're the only one I want to see, the only one I want to be with. It's always been you and only you. So, no worries."

"Mmm, still." You hummed, nuzzling into his neck, your feet landing back on the ground.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He asked, hands on your hips.

“Nope."

"Fine. I'm sorry for being a sexy, gyrating, half-naked idol on stage and making you all hot and bothered. There. Will you forgive me now?" He said, leaning in close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"No." You said, and he raised his brows, surprised.

"You're mad." He said.

"Yes."

"Because I'm a sexy gyrating half-naked idol onstage that makes you all hot and bothered."

"Yes."

"So, what's the solution here? I'm sorry. I'll wear a shirt next time. Or I'll do some hip thrusts and then I can take my shirt off and I can do the thrusting thing.

"I'm not mad at you for doing your job. I'm mad that you're sexy and I don't like the thought of other people seeing you like that. I don't want anyone else to have that view."

"So, you want to claim me. Mark me. Make me yours." He said, and you nodded. "You want to tie me down and mark every inch of my body with your lips."

"Yes. I do."

"Hmm. What are we going to do about that?" He said, smirking.

You pushed him back until he hit the wall, dropping to your knees in front of him, your fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. You tugged his pants and boxers down, and his cock sprang out. He was already hard and throbbing.

“Fuck…” Seonghwa let out a moan as your lips wrapped around his cock. Your mouth is warm and wet, and it feels so good to Seonghwa that he just has to let out a loud moan. You start sucking him, going all the way to the base before slowly going back up, tongue swirling on the tip and then licking down the vein on the underside.

You repeat this a few more times, and every time Seonghwa lets out a string of profanities, saying how good it feels and how you are the only one who can do it. His fingers run through your hair and grips them, but he doesn't force your head down, letting you work your magic at your own pace.

And you love the noises he makes, moans and grunts coming out from his plump lips. He's the prettiest like this, you thought, pants down, lips parted, eyes closed and head thrown back, exposing the column of his neck. He looks ethereal, a sight to behold, and he's yours, only yours.

You start moving faster, bobbing your head and swallowing around his cock. You feel his hips twitch and thrust up, pushing his dick even deeper inside your mouth, and you moan, the vibrations making him groan loudly.

"Fuck, angel. You’re doing so well, taking my cock so good. Such a good girl." He praises you, making you look up. Seonghwa is staring at you, mouth parted and eyes half-lidded, looking so fucking hot that you felt yourself get wetter.

You continue sucking him, hollowing your cheeks as you pull out and lapping at the head when you come back down. Your tongue swirls around the tip and then you suck him again. Seonghwa's hands are in your hair, not moving, just keeping you in place.

You pull away, lips red and swollen, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick.

"Seonghwa," you say, voice hoarse and rough. "You love it when I suck your cock?"

"God, yes, baby. It feels so good." He groans as you go back down on him, bobbing your head up and down quickly.

"You like seeing my lips wrapped around your cock? Do you think I look pretty?" You ask him, and Seonghwa nods frantically, telling you how good you look, and how pretty your mouth looks while you suck him.

"Yeah? Am I pretty for you, Hwa?"

"Yes, so fucking pretty." Seonghwa moans out. "God, so pretty, all mine."

You continue sucking him, taking him down until you almost gagged. His hips buck up, and you moan.

"I want to cum, baby. Make me cum." He says.

You keep going, moving up and down his shaft, tongue pressing at the sensitive spot on the underside. Seonghwa is a moaning mess, saying your name like a prayer, and it turns you on even more, and you are sure that your panties are ruined by now.

He pulls your head back and tells you to open your mouth.

"Stick your tongue out, angel." He says, and you obey. You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, and Seonghwa holds his cock and starts pumping it quickly, eyes fixed on your tongue.

"Fuck, such a pretty sight." He murmurs, and he cums, his release landing on your tongue and face. You moan at the feeling of his warm cum on your skin. Seonghwa continues to pump his cock, and some of his release lands on your cheeks, lips, and chin.

When he's done, he pulls you up and kisses you hungrily. He can taste himself on your lips, and it turns him on.

"You're so dirty, angel." He whispers, licking his own cum off your lips. "Such a dirty girl, letting me cum on your pretty little face."

"You made me like this, Hwa." You reply. "And now, you have to take care of me."

"I will." He says, pulling you in for another kiss. He pulls away, his lips moving to your neck, and you throw your head back, giving him better access. He sucks on the spot just below your ear, and you gasp, fingers curling in his hair.

He continues sucking and biting, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck and shoulders. You moan, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, and you feel him smirk against your shoulder.

"You like this, baby?" He asks, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," You breathe out. "I love it."

Seonghwa pulls away and starts taking his clothes off, and you follow suit, shedding your own clothing and tossing them on the floor. When you are both naked, Seonghwa pulls you close, and you can feel his erection pressed against your stomach. You grind against him, and he lets out a low growl.

"Someone's impatient." He teases.

"Can you blame me? It's been too long." You say.

"I know, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"Then hurry up." You whine. “I don’t care where we fuck.”

"So bossy." He says and he picks you up and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the island. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and roughly, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock rubs against your pussy, and you let out a moan, breaking the kiss.

Seonghwa's lips move to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks on it, and you let out a gasp. His tongue swirls around the bud and he nibbles it, then he moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment.

Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer and holding him in place. He sucks and bites, leaving hickeys and marks on your chest. When he's done, he moves lower, kissing and biting your skin, marking you as his. You feel his hands at the juncture between your thighs, fingers brushing against your dripping cunt.

"Seonghwa.." You moan his name.

"You're so wet." He says as he unlatched from your nipple and trails down kisses on your neck, biting and sucking on the skin.

"It's your fault. You made me this wet." You whine as he rubs your clit.

"Really? And how did I do that?" He asks, teasing. He's still rubbing your clit, and the friction is driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Seonghwa."

"Answer me, angel." He says, plunging two fingers inside of you. You throw your head back and moan, feeling Seonghwa's long, slender fingers curl up inside of you.

"Oh, fuck!" You moan.

"C'mon, answer me. How did I make you this wet?" He says, thrusting his fingers into you, and you swear that you could feel his fingertips brush against your g-spot.

"You and your filthy mouth." You managed to say, and he chuckles, fingers continuing to move in and out of you.

"Do you like my filthy mouth, angel? I like using it to make you feel good. Like this." He says, pulling his fingers out of you, and before you could complain, he has already replaced it with his mouth.

"Shit." You let out a breathy moan, and your hand finds its way to his hair, tugging on it as his tongue moves against you.

He licks and sucks on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you.

"You taste so good, baby." He murmurs, lips pressed against your sensitive skin. "So fucking delicious."

"Shit, shit." You curse, hips rolling to meet his tongue.

He continues to eat you out, tongue and lips working together to make you feel good. His tongue is hot and wet, and it feels so damn good. He moans against your pussy, and you swear you could feel the vibrations up to your spine. He laps at your clit, tongue circling the bundle of nerves. You're a moaning mess, curses spilling from your mouth as you grip his hair. You look down, and you see him staring at you.

His eyes are dark, filled with lust, and they are burning with passion and desire. He's looking at you, watching your face contort in pleasure, and it's all because of him. He loves it when you lose control and submit to him, letting him make you feel good.

"Shit, Seonghwa." You moan, and he pulls away, kissing his way up to your neck and jaw, his lips pressing against your skin.

"God, you're so hot." He murmurs into your skin.

You whimper, wanting his mouth on your clit again.

"Hwa, please." You whine.

"Please, what?" He says, teasing.

"Fuck, I'm so close." You say, and he smiles, his hands gripping your thighs as he leans down, lips latching onto your clit again.

You roll your hips, grinding against his face, chasing the release that is so close, but so far.

"Hwa, please." You beg, and he obliges, tongue flicking against your clit faster. You moan, and soon enough, you are screaming his name, his tongue pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck!" You cry out, hips bucking against his face as your orgasm washes over you, making your vision white and your body shake.

"That's it, angel." He whispers, and he doesn't stop, his tongue and lips working you through your orgasm, prolonging it, and making it feel even better. When you are done, he pulls away and licks his lips, tasting the last bit of your orgasm.

"Fucking delicious." He murmurs and pulls you into a heated kiss, tongues clashing and teeth clacking, but neither of you care, too lost in each other to even notice.

He pulls away, and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes locking with yours.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you." He groans, and you nod, not trusting your voice.

He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes inside of you, inch by inch, letting you adjust to his size. He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you.

"You feel so good, baby." He moans, and he starts moving, his hips rocking against yours, his cock sliding in and out of you.

"God, Seonghwa." You moan, his name a mantra falling from your lips. He's hitting all the right spots, his cock filling you up and stretching you out in all the right ways.

"You're so tight, baby. So fucking tight." He moans, his thrusts picking up speed. “God, I fucking missed you. Missed this. Missed us.”

"Hwa, fuck." You cry out, his cock hitting all the right places.

"Yes, baby, yes." He says, his breath coming out in short pants. "Say my name, angel. Let me hear you scream it."

"Seonghwa." You moan, and he thrusts into you even harder, his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you see stars.

"You're so fucking sexy." He moans, his voice sending shivers down your spine and straight to your core.

You moan his name, his fingers digging into your hips, his grip almost painful, but you love it. You love the pain and the pleasure that he's giving you, the way he's fucking you, and the way his cock is making you feel.

"Fuck, Hwa." You moan, his hips snapping against yours.

"Say it again." He growls, his lips ghosting over your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

"Seonghwa." You moan, his name sounding like a prayer. "God, I fucking love you."

"I love you, too." He groans, his voice rough and hoarse, and it makes your knees weak.

You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer, and he moans, his lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss. His lips move against yours, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth.

He groans into the kiss, and his fingers are gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. His cock is hitting all the right spots, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Hwa." You moan his name, and he smiles against your lips, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of you easily.

"I'm gonna cum, baby." He whispers, his voice rough and breathless.

"Me, too." You reply, your nails digging into his back.

He keeps going, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. Your legs are shaking, and your vision is starting to get blurry. You feel the familiar heat pooling in your lower belly, and you know that you're close.

"Seonghwa, fuck." You moan, and he groans, his thrusts getting faster and harder.

"Yes, angel, yes. Cum for me." He whispers, his voice a low rumble. "Cream all over my cock."

"Fuck, Hwa." You moan, and you can feel your orgasm approaching.

"That's it, baby." He grunts. "Cum for me."

"Shit, I'm gonna-"You reach your orgasm, and you cry out his name, your pussy clenching around his cock.

"That's it, baby." He moans, and he cums soon after, his cock twitching inside of you as his release coats your walls.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, his cock still buried deep inside of you, the only sound in the room is the sounds of your heavy breathing.

“Baby, I know we both came but I really want to continue fucking you. You feel so good, and I don't want to let you go." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

“I need more of you, Hwa.”

He stands up and picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He carries you to the bedroom, his hands cupping your ass and holding you in place.

He carries you to the bed, and he lays you down, his body hovering over yours. He looks at you, his eyes dark with lust, and you can't help but moan.

"I should go on tour more often...if this is what happens when I get back." He smirks, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"And leave me alone again? Fuck no." You say, pulling him closer and kissing him hungrily. "Don't need you going around being half-naked again."

"I was clothed." He chuckles.

"And everyone was still eye-fucking you."

"Well, it was worth it." He smirks.

"Oh, was it now?"

He chuckles, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy." He growls, and his hands are on your body, roaming your skin, touching and caressing.

"You made me like this, Seonghwa." You reply, your voice breathless and shaky. "I missed you so much."

"I know, baby, I know. I missed you too." He whispers and kisses you, his lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.

You kiss him back, your fingers curling in his hair and tugging. He moans into the kiss, his lips moving against yours, and his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and tasting.

Your hands are on his chest, your nails digging into his skin, leaving marks and scratches. He groans, his hips rocking against yours, and his erection pressed against your thigh.

"God, baby, I missed you so much." He says, breaking the kiss, and he sits up, pulling you with him, and his lips move to your neck, sucking and biting the skin. "Missed your pretty little lips, your pretty tits, your pretty pussy."

You moan, his words sending shivers down your spine. You pull him closer, his lips finding yours again, and he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and exploring.

You grind against him, his erection pressing against your soaked pussy, and you can feel him throb and twitch. You moan, and he pulls away, his lips trailing down to your breasts, kissing and licking and biting the skin.

"Such a good girl, waiting for me to come home." He whispers, his lips pressing against the swell of your breast. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I love you so much."

"God, Hwa, I love you too." You moan, your fingers running through his hair. "Welcome back home."

"It's good to be home, baby." He says, sliding into you once more. "It's good to be home."

[hairmetal666]

Read Part One here

cw: implied child abuse

Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.

They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.

They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.

After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.

What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.

But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.

The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.

Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.

"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.

"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."

"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.

He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.

"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"

"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."

Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."

Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.

He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.

"Steve?"

It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.

His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"

"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."

"I'm sorry--"

"--Steve, I--"

They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."

Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"

Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.

"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."

Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.

"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."

"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.

"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."

He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."

Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."

Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."

He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"

There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.

Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"

"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.

"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."

Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"

"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."

"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.

"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."

Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08

[queenofthearchipelago]

Long Rant about the Watcher Thing

The thing about what's happening with Watcher is that I'm a musician. I understand deeply the difficulties that come with an artist making their art and needing money and the relationship with the people that art is for. So I understand that Watcher needs money to pay their employees and maintain their business.

That said, they revealed that they have 25 employees (half of which are nepotism hires and friends from BuzzFeed) and that one episode of Ghost Files costs "hundreds of thousands of dollars." (Ghost Files being their most expensive show by bar, not their average spending habits per Watcher episode)

I understand from a few people I've seen who are in their Patreon that they make at least 100k per month from the patreon. And then there's the money they get from youtube itself from the views. And then there's the money they get from the ads.

Now I understand that Ryan said this decision came down to primarily 2 things: the ad companies were making them feel stifled with what they could do (which they don't explain how), and they want more money to be able to keep up a higher production quality.

I'm going to skip past the thing about the ads. They never specified how the ad companies were making them change their content in a way that made them feel unsatisfied. I can't speak or provide any opinions on why they want so badly to escape needing ad deals.

But I can talk about the higher production quality they speak of and that's specifically because Ryan said that they wanted to pay for a higher production quality FOR US. "For you guys."

We... we didn't ask for higher production. This is NOT a decision they need to make on our account. I understand and respect if they aren't creating on they level they want. But it's odd that they're speaking towards not being able to afford their current spending habits, as if this is something we asked them to do.

I've read a lot of comments about this and I agree with a lot of you that it's odd that this decision to switch to streaming coincides with the return of Worth It, a show that when produced by Steven, seems like it could easily cost just as much as Ghost Files to produce.

I understand why it feels like this is all Steven's fault. His vibes in the video today, compared to Ryan and Shane, made it seem like he was the most excited about it. It's Steven that has been highlighted multiple times as the business man, the one who makes the financial decisions. It's Steven's shows on Watcher that get canceled after one or two seasons, meanwhile Ryan and Shane's shows just keep going to 5 seasons and beyond.

Shane even said it explicitly, that there are "shows that didn't do as well on youtube, that might do better on a streaming service."

But most of the fans DO watch Watcher for Ryan and Shane, they always have. Steven's shows don't do as well. When Watcher brings in a new host and makes a new show for them, those shows do even worse.

I know this upsets Ryan, he's been very vocal about wanting Watcher to expand beyond himself and Shane. He wants his company to be successful regardless of whether he's in front of the camera or not.

But I feel like this step is trying to force it. Right now, this is still Ryan and Shane's channel. This is why we're here. The people haven't latched onto Steven as much, and the attempts to bring in new hosts have been unsuccessful.

There are lots of comments floating around about why Watcher didn't do what Rhett and Link did and open up youtube membership. Or why didn't they host more live events. Or why didn't they do more livestreams. These all could have been fantastic ideas that wouldn't betray the fans.

Because I do think they forgot that their fanbase is largely women in their 20s. People are right in bringing up the cost of living crisis, in bringing up how many subscription services we're already subscribed to. And my heart goes out to the international viewers who can't access the website at all in their country and the ones who can't afford it because Watcher forgot to consider the currency difference.

I feel that they have betrayed their fanbase. I remember when Watcher started and Ryan admitted he was scared no one would watch. And then we showed up for them because we loved them and what they did.

But now most of the fans can't or won't follow them where they're going. And I think Ryan might know this too from the way he said If this is goodbye, it's been fun.

I wish they would have tried other things before hard launching a streaming service. I wish they would have had a long game plan to get to the place they wanted to be as a company and as creatives.

I feel betrayed but I also don't want this company going bankrupt. If they go bankrupt, then we truly have lost them forever. I hope they take a look at the overwhelming backlash, at their falling subscriber numbers, and I hope they reconsider doing this.

[fadedncity]

mask off

wc: 2.5k

pairing: jisung x fem!reader

cw: smut, bf!jisung, non idol au, mentions of other idols, semi public sex, knife play, role play, fingering, choking, manhandling, praise and degradation kink, pet names, teasing, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol consumption and use of marijuana, horror movie references

a/n: not really relevant but thought i’d clarify reader is dressed as tiffany valentine from bride of chucky.

You checked your phone for what seems like the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you rechecked your call log to make sure you didn't miss one from him.

You sigh, locking your phone, and look over the balcony. Scanning the crowd below you, taking over Ningning's backyard, you search for Jisung. But you knew it would be no use between there being too many people and you not knowing what he was dressed as.

It wasn't until your eyes stopped on one person.

The Ghostface mask had initially caught your attention and caused you to do a double take, as it's surprisingly the first and only you've seen tonight. But you also realize they're looking back at you. With everyone else too intoxicated to notice you even up on the balcony, they were the only one looking up at you.

The masked individual doesn't do or say anything, remaining still as the party carries on around them. You straighten up when a bit of paranoia creeps up your spine.

Just as you start retrieving back into the house, you jump at the sound of a knock on the balcony door and snap your head in its direction.

"Hey," Yunjin slides the door shut behind her, joining you outside, "you okay?" she asks.

You peer back over the balcony and no longer see this Ghostface anywhere outside.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you tell her, also telling yourself it was nothing, "Have you seen Jisung? He was supposed to be here a while ago but I haven't heard from him and his phone's probably on do not disturb again."

"No, but Alyssa said she just saw Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, and Ghostface pull up, pretty sure it was Chenle, Jisung, and Yangyang. So he's probably just around here somewhere."

"Alright," you say, heading back inside.

"We're about to smoke if you wanna join us, by the way."

"Let me head to the bathroom first."

"You need me to come with?" Yunjin asks.

"Nah, I won't be long. Just make sure Hyuck doesn't leave me with just the roach," you say.

. . .

You were humming along to the melody of the song you could hear playing outside of the bathroom as you reapplied your lipstick.

Your phone buzzed on the countertop with a text from Yunjin telling you to hurry up before you miss the cyph. You take one last look in the mirror, making sure your hair remains intact in its updo before collecting yourself and heading out.

Since you were looking down at your phone as you exited the bathroom, you didn't realize someone was standing in the corridor. 

When you do finally notice them, you almost jump out of your skin, having been unaware of your surroundings. 

"Holy fuck," you hold your hand over your rapidly beating heart. 

With the poor lighting, you can barely make out the face of the robed figure until they take a step closer, and you see the Ghostface mask.

"Jisung?" you call out to him, "First you can't text me back, then you go and scare me half to death?" you laugh.

He still didn't say anything, just silently standing there, the soulless black eyes of the mask staring back at you. His gloved hands reach into the pockets of his jeans, revealing the knife.

You were almost positive that it was Jisung, for sure, once you saw the familiar blade. 

Again, you laugh, "We're really doing this? 'Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me. I wanna be in the sequel.'" you joke.

He remained quiet, your recital of Tatum's last words in the movie, seemingly falling on deaf ears.

"Is everything okay?" you ask.

Still no response. He tilted his head and took a step forward.

"Alright, babe, you're starting to scare me," you say, backing away from him while clutching your phone.

He was backing you back toward the bathroom, and you were running out of room to go.

"Jisung, seriously, you're freaking me the fuck out," you say once your back hits the door. The space between you gets smaller and smaller, with you nowhere left to go.

Is it even really Jisung? 

You're breathing so heavily, that every time you inhale, your chest hits his as his face inches closer to yours.

"Boo!"

Your anxiety dissipates once you hear the switchblade click shut, and Jisung drops his hood, pulling the mask from over his head. He's laughing, so you punch him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Jisung rubs his arm.

"Fuck you! That wasn't funny," you say.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Jisung holds your waist, "but it was almost too perfect of a chance I had to take." he says, and you cross your arms over your chest. "Come on, if I really was some serial killer you think I'd do it in a house full of witnesses."

"Have you learned nothing from the movies?" you furrow your brows.

"All I'm saying is if I really was Ghostface…" he takes out the voice modulator, holding it up to his mouth, "I'd give you a better death than just bleeding out in some dark hallway."

Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and your breathing became shallow. You're embarrassed to admit how much hearing Jisung's voice through the modifier turned you on. 

"How thoughtful," your lashes flutter, "But I'm pretty sure I'd be able to take you as Ghostface."

"You weren't putting up much of a fight five seconds ago."

"Who said anything about taking you in a fight?"

"Oh?" he raises a brow, "Is that so?"

Jisung opens the bathroom door behind you, pushing you inside the confined space. Once he locks the door shut, he connects his lips to yours. He lifts you by your waist, settling you on the countertop, and you wrap your legs around his hips.

You roughly fist Jisung's hair, the kiss quickly becoming heated. His hands are all over you, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Jisung's tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the lingering bitterness of smoke from your last hit a while ago, mixing with the drink he had before finding you still on his lips.

One of his hands find their way between your legs, swiping his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shutter, attempting to close your legs around his hand to keep him there. Even through his gloves, he can tell you're already soaked through your panties and smirks at you.

"What's got you this wet, Ms. Valentine?"

"You, Ji," you answer. 

"All me for me huh?" he asks, and your brows furrow in confusion, "You sure it wasn't Ghostface who's got you this wet?"

Oh, shit. 

"I uh-"

"After making me watch all six movies on only our second date, I didn't really think much of it," he says, and you sheepishly laugh, "But it all started to make sense when I overheard you on the phone with Chaeryeong the other day…" Jisung trails off, hoping you'd catch on.

And you do, gasping with wide eyes, "Oh my god, no you didn't."

"I kinda did."

You groan, covering your face, "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to think I was weird."

"Hate to break it to you, but I already thought that," he says lightheartedly.

"Jisung," you whine out of embarrassment.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. I just don't know why you didn't say anything to me before," he softly pouts.

"And how exactly did you want me to go about that? 'Hey, babe, how was your day? By the way, I have this twisted fantasy of being railed by Ghostface. Wanna grab dinner?'" you question.

"Obviously not like that," Jisung scoffs, "I'm just saying, as your boyfriend, I'm more than happy to turn this twisted fantasy into a reality for you," he smiles at you, "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," you nod.

"Then would you allow me the honor?"

"The honor's all yours."

You snake your arms around Jisung's neck as he crashes his lips into yours. He brings his lips to your neck, suckling the skin between his teeth, leaving small bruises along your throat.

"You know this is almost always exactly how it goes in horror movies," you comment and you tip your head back, giving him more access.

"Oh my god," Jisung rolls his eyes, "Look if you don't wanna-" Jisung jokingly reaches for the doorknob.

"No, no," you keep your legs locked around him, "If I'm to die tonight, right here with you is where I'd wanna be," you kiss him.

"Can't think of anywhere else I'd wanna be. Now are you gonna keep talking about death or let me fuck you?" Jisung pulls you back onto your feet, turning you around to face the mirror.

"I'm not the only eager one here, I see," you push your ass into his groin.

"As much as I'd love to stay here and play with you all night, princess, we've already been gone for too long and the search party will come looking soon," he says before pulling a glove off with his teeth.

Jisung rolls the leather of your dress up over your hips and slides his hand between your legs. He pulls your panties to the side and slips a finger into your pussy.

"God, you're fucking soaked already," Jisung says, adding a second finger, causing your eyes to flutter shut, "This shit really does turn you on," a lopsided grin takes place on his face before his fingers leave you empty.

You grumble, frustrated. "Fuck off-"

"I'd watch your tone, sweetness," he held the knife to your throat. "Wouldn't wanna lose that pretty voice of yours."

It was then, you realized he pulled the mask back down over his head. You felt the edge of the knife press against your esophagus. If you hadn't previously been in this position with your boyfriend a number of times before, one would think you'd be worried, maybe even a little scared. But no, you were now beyond the point of being turned on, your body practically boiling with arousal.  

"Please, don't," you plead, "I'll do anything," you turn your head to look at him and bat your lashes.

"Anything, huh?"

"Anything," you nod.

Jisung began tracing the knife edge along your chest, "With a pretty thing like you, I'm sure I can think of a few other things to do with you."

In one quick motion, he drops the knife to his other hand, and you hear the sound of fabric ripping as he slices your panties and pulls it from your body.

And there goes the third pair this month. 

But you could care less about your tattered underwear, now discarded on the tiled floor, once you hear the zipper of his jeans coming undone. Jisung wastes no more time and lines his cock up with your entrance. You sharply inhale, feeling his thick length open you up.

"Oh my god," your voice was barely above a whisper.

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked in your ear, "Let me use you however I want for the sake of saving your pretty little life."

You manage to open your eyes and look at your reflection. The sight of the mask behind you as his cock is buried balls deep inside of you, flooded you with more arousal, your walls fluttering around his dick.

Your response was interrupted by the moan bubbling up your throat, but Jisung saw the smile breaking out on your face.

"Y-Yes," you nod, "God—please…fuck me."

"See how easy it is to get to what you want when you just use your words," you hear the smirk on his voice, "Gonna take it all for me like a good girl, yeah?"

You nod with a gasp, your nails scratching against the marble countertop as Jisung's cock stretches you open, bottoming out. "Mhm! I'll be good. I'll be so good for you, I promise."

Jisung draws his hips back before slamming back into you, filling you to the hilt. He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. Your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he fills you up, picking up momentum and fucking you at a steady pace.

Loud moans and cries along with Jisung's name tumbled hazardously from your lips. Jisung's gloved hand covers your mouth, muffling your noises.

"God, you're such a whiny slut," he says, "Pathetically crying out like a bitch in heat."

You whine, seemingly struggling against his hold as you grew flustered at his words.

"No need to try and deny it, sweets. I've had my eyes on you long enough to know, this is the exact moment you've been having wet dreams of," Jisung's strong arms securely hold you against his chest, "What would that cute boyfriend of yours think if he were to see you like this? Letting me use you however I please and not being able to do anything to stop me." he darkly chuckles.

It turns you on even more knowing Jisung is just as into this as you are.

"God…you're sick," you pant.

"You're the one who's letting a dangerous killer fuck you, and I'm the sick one?"

"Fuck you," you spit.

Jisung's hand wraps around your neck, lightly squeezing down on the sides.

"Fuck me, huh. You're doing a great job at doing so already, princess," the roughness of his voice through the modulator had your head spinning or maybe it was the limited oxygen you were granted as his hand was still around your neck. Either way you could feel yourself stumbling closer to the edge.

You slip up and call out your boyfriend's name. "Ji, oh god, mhm—it's so good, oh my god!" you threw your head back.

"That's it, baby. You're doing so good for me."

"Feels so good—fuck, Sungie," Your back arched as you attempted to move your hips and began fucking yourself back on his cock.

Jisung was drunk off you—Every whimper and whine he pulled from you as he bent you over the sink, fucking you relentlessly. And the way your body writhed and squirmed against him, the intense pleasure flooding your veins as his tip kissed your sweet spot.

"Look at yourself," he grabbed your jaw, making you look into the mirror "If only everyone else could see how badly I've ruined you, precious."

Your mouth hangs open, nothing coming out except for broken moans. But there's a drunken smile on your face.

"Sungie, please," you whimper.

Jisung brings his hand back your throat, but without applying pressure this time. "You close, pretty?" Jisung asks, and you ferociously nod.

"Wanna cum for you," you whine, "Please, baby," your voice cracked with desperation.

"Cute how desperate you can get. It's almost pathetic."

"Jisung, oh my god-"

You reach behind you and grab the back of his head. Jisung feels the mask being pulled off his head, allowing you to drop it to the floor. Messy black locks flopped over his forehead as his eyes readjusted to the lighting. Fisting your hand in his hair, you bring his lips to yours, meeting in a desperate and sloppy kiss.

Jisung feels the knot inside him ready to snap but holds back as his hand returns between your thighs. He rubs sloppy circles into your clit, and you squirm in his arms, trying desperately to chase your release.

"Come on, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream for me."

You see stars behind your eyes as a moan rips from your throat, bouncing off every surface in the small space. Your body shakes in Jisung's arms as you cum. His cock throbs, his release finally coming when your pussy chokes his dick, and he paints your walls white.

"Fuck," Jisung rasps in your ear. He grabs onto the edge of the sink, fucking his cum into you as you squirm, feeling overstimulated.

You fall back against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder, "That was fucking amazing," you heavily pant against his skin as you place a kiss below his jaw.

"Yeah?" he caresses your face.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."

"I aim to please you, very very well," he kissed your forehead before slipping out of your heat. You mewl, feeling his fingers brush your folds, collecting his cum as it starts to drip out of you.

"I'm gonna be thinking about this for the next few months, by the way."

"Then I guess there's no need to get rid of the mask after tonight," Jisung smirks, picking the mask up from the ground.

You smile against his lips, "Definitely not."

a/n: uhh this was very self indulgent and lowkey inspired by this. thank you for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33

[b0r3dtod3ath]

requests for happy logan fics you say? 👀

i shall request happy logan, um i dont really have a good idea of anything tho

if u need a more solid idea maybe a younger grid kid reader x logan and um here are some possible prompts

"I don't procrastinate really, it's just that when I do, I prefer to do it last minute, that's all."

"I'm always right because who else will be?"

"I have a confession to make, and it's not going to be easy to hear. You just can't get mad okay?" (cue the confession being of the stupidest thing imaginable)

sorry theyre bad, my brain is literally refusing to function right now. have a nice day!

an: thank you for the request! i went with the third prompt. i hope you don't mind changing it so reader is a driver (it just suited the story better in my head). it's quite short as i haven't been writing for a while.

The rookie trio of 2023 was inseparable. Oscar, you and Logan knew each other since you were kids and joining Formula 1 at the same time made the bond between the three of you even deeper. But what many people didn’t know, you and Logan have been dating since the end of the season. One of the people that didn't know was Oscar.

At first the rush of adrenaline that accompanied hidden glances and stolen moments was exciting but for the long run it became exhausting. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were constantly lying to one of your closest friends.

As the clock struck midnight you heard a soft knock on your hotel room door. A shared tradition between you and Logan. Within seconds you opened the door just wide enough to let him slip inside. “I missed you today,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if scared to be heard by others in this silent hotel. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer.

“I missed you too. But we can’t keep sneaking around like this forever, you know.” you ruffled his hair as he looked at you. “I know, We have talked about it. We are not teenagers anymore, but I’m scared of how Oscar will react”. Logan laid on your bed and set an early morning alarm to leave your room unnoticed. “But it’s starting to feel like we’re living two separate lives. I don’t want us to keep hiding who we are from everyone, especially Oscar. We’re not going to lose him, we just have to trust that he’ll understand. That he’ll see how much we care about each other” you responded.

Logan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you down beside him. He held you close, his chin resting on top of your head as you laid together in the quiet room. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear was a comforting reminder that you were in this together. “We’ll talk to him before the summer break starts.” Logan murmured after a long silence, his voice filled with determination. Logan kissed the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “No matter what happens, I love you,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I love you too,” you replied, scared of your friend’s reaction.

Later that month, the three of you sat at a nice restaurant as a way to close a race weekend. Oscar had been in a good mood all night, cracking jokes and telling stories. You and Logan shared a few anxious glances as you sat at the table, trying to enjoy the lighthearted atmosphere before everything changed.

As Oscar finished recounting a particularly funny story about his engineer Logan squeezed your hand discreetly, offering silent support. "Oscar," you began, your voice steady but your heart racing. "I have a confession to make, and it's not going to be easy to hear. You just can't get mad, okay?". Oscar raised an eyebrow, the smile fading slightly from his face as he sensed the seriousness in your tone. He looked at Logan’s still face, suspicion slowly creeping in. "What’s going on?" he asked, his voice cautious. Logan brushed your hand with his thumb to ease the nerves a bit. "Logan and I... we've been seeing each other, like romantically. For more than half a year now”.

There was a moment of stunned silence as the words hung in the air. Oscar blinked, slightly taken aback. "What? You and Logan?" He leaned back in his chair, processing the information. "And I didn't know?".

"It’s not that we didn’t want to tell you," Logan cut in, his voice calm yet apologetic. "We just… we didn’t want it to change anything between the three of us. We didn’t want to risk our friendship. It is very stupid of us”.

Oscar stared at the two of you, his expression unreadable. You felt a lump form in your throat, fearing the worst. "You two have been together all this time, and I had no idea”. A few moments passed before a small smile tugged at the corner of Oscar's mouth. "I can’t believe you managed to keep it a secret for that long," he said with a hint of admiration. "You know, I thought something was going on a few times, but I just brushed it off. You two did a good job hiding it or I’m just really stupid to not notice two of my best friends dating".

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. "So… you’re not mad?". Oscar shook his head, his smile growing. "Oh, no, no. Don’t worry. I’m not mad. I’m happy for you both. I mean, it’s a little weird now knowing you are dating, but as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters”. Relief washed over you as Logan grinned "Thanks, man. We were really worried about how you'd react”. Oscar rolled his eyes, but his face projected warmth "I’m not that scary, am I?". 

August 14, 2024

[stellar-skyy]

hello!! could i order an iced honey and vanilla tea for aventurine?

“order up! i have a drink here for aventurine, an iced honey and vanilla tea!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: sometimes, all you need is to feel loved. and, as his closest friend, he will make sure you know you are. ii. CWS & NOTES: reader is insecure. platonic aventurine x gn!reader. hurt/comfort & fluff. 0.8k words. iii. A/N: i was so excited to see someone rq the platonic version of this prompt! also. please know this is my first time writing aventurine and i haven't played most of the penacony questline (i have been spoiled for the entire thing though-) so if the characterization is off i am sorry.

“Why are you friends with me?”

It caught Aventurine off guard, truth be told. For a moment he could only blink, staring at them dumbly while the question fully registered in his head. After a few seconds of processing, he managed a single word: “What?”

“Why are you friends with me?” They repeated, a tinge of frustration coating their words. The question settled in his mind, but still, he was at a loss for words.

How could he possibly answer that, when the two of them had been acquainted for so long that his life and theirs seemed fully intertwined? The question only planted the seed for more to sprout in his mind as he pondered it; whys melting into hows and what ifs. He struggled to imagine a life where he’d never met them all those years ago, a life where he never found someone to dull his sharpened edges and fill some fraction of the emptiness he felt inside.

They were a match that fit too perfectly; two lonely people, who’d tasted a life without solitude and couldn’t quite bring themselves to leave it behind again.

Yet, their friendship was a double-edged sword, one seemed to cut Aventurine from both sides. It took every ounce of self-control in his body to stop himself from digging his claws in and clinging tightly enough to them to make sure they wouldn’t leave. Simultaneously, another part yearned to push them so far away that he would never be able break them like he did with every other bright thing in his life. The thought of being alone again felt suffocating, even if the back of his mind still whispered that it was only his deserved fate.

On good nights, when they were at the tables with him, he insisted they were seated right beside him—his “good luck charm,” as he put it. He chased every moment, the flash of a smile on their lips when the dice roll just right, a barely stifled laugh at his jokes. No victory could outshine the few moments of pure, untainted contentment he felt when they were by his side.

It was almost laughable that they were questioning why he’d chosen them, when he was the one who didn’t deserve someone half as incredible as they were. He should be asking why they had settled for someone cracked and missing as many pieces as he did, not the other way around.

“What about you?” He asked, in lieu of an answer. “Why are you friends with me?”

“I already asked you.” They protested. Aventurine, being the good friend he was, ignored them.

“You’ve known me long enough to be acutely aware of my flaws, and yet you still stick around. Why is that?”

“Uh…” They hesitated for a beat. “You’re not—”

“Don’t deny it. Just answer the question.”

“Well, I guess…” They draw out the first few words, thinking. Aventurine kept his face neutral, despite the pounding of his heart. “Flaws are just flaws, aren’t they? I don’t think you could find a single one here that’s without their fair share. You’re still a good person despite them, and I enjoy your company regardless.”

The back of his throat had grown dry. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to quell the wave of emotions that almost swept him off his feet, forcing them back into the furthest reaches of his mind to unpack later.

“See!” He said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Exactly my point, why would you be any different?”

“That’s not what I was saying.” They murmured, shaking their head.

“What is it then?”

“It’s just… I’m not that important, am I?” They asked, not meeting his eyes. “I mean—You have other friends, don’t you? And if you had the choice, I’m sure you’d rather hang out with them than me, wouldn’t you?”

“You want to make that a bet?” Aventurine raised an eyebrow. “Because, my dear friend, that is a gamble you will lose. For starters, who I find important isn’t up to you; it’s up to me. And me has decided you are an incredibly important friend that I value very deeply. You can stew in your self-pity as much as you want, but that won’t change how much I care about you.”

“You really mean that?” They asked, in an almost inaudible whisper.

“Of course. Can I?” He asked, opening his arms out. They looked up briefly, and gave him a small nod, so he pulled them forward against his chest. He hugged them tightly, as if they would vanish into nothing if he let go. Their hand clutched the back of his jacket, their cheek pressing against his shirt.

Neither of them were without their cracks, it seemed, but maybe that was why they had connected in the first place.

“I’m friends with you because I want to be friends with you,” Aventurine said softly. “You mean the world to me, and it kills me that you don’t realize it.”

He knew he was little more than a hollow shell, but with them, he almost felt whole. It was almost enough for him; he could only hope it would be enough for them too.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[maychorian]

Dungeon Meshi has fully consumed me, especially a certain tiny union man, and I want to ramble about Chilchuck's traumatic backstory for a bit. Mild manga spoilers under the cut.

The first time I read the manga I missed this bit, since I was reading an online version that didn't have all the extras included. Since I've come across this litte omake, though, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It just explains so much about why Chilchuck is the way he is.

First, at a surface level, it's interesting that this backstory only comes out in the framework of talking about a monster. Chilchuck is offering basically an anecdote about succubi, adding to the conversation he and his party are having about a monster species. It's all very casual and offhand. No one even remarks on what that experience would have meant to Chilchuck on a personal level, and he doesn't dwell on it, either. You have to wonder if Chilchuck would have ever mentioned it at all if they weren't specifically talking about succubi.

But holy heck, just think about this for a moment. On one of Chilchuck's first outings as an adventurer, possibly the first time he joined a party, his fellow adventurers were planning to feed him to a monster. He's only alive now because he had the instinct that something was wrong and had the speed, wisdom, and stealth to run away. He could have died. He could have been murdered. And it's implied that this happens to half-foots frequently in this world.

How traumatizing would that have been for a young adventurer? The people he should have been able to trust to have his back were literally planning his death, all for monetary gain. He was treated as disposable, a resource to be exploited, not a person. Not only is there the trauma of narrowly escaping death here, there's also the trauma of being mistreated and abused by other thinking, intelligent beings.

No freaking wonder he has trust issues. He's been working with Laios and his party for three years at this point and he's never shared a single solitary personal detail about his life, not even his age. He can't bear to allow any vulnerability to show, because he can't allow himself to be taken advantage of again. No wonder he's so prickly and wary. No wonder he's so sensitive to being viewed as anything other than a capable, skilled, fully realized and autonomous adult. No wonder he shies away from affection and any hint of closeness, especially in the early chapters of the manga.

I'm amazed that Chilchuck had the strength and fortitude to stay in the business at all. He considered his options and took steps to keep himself safe, including only accepting pay in advance and starting a union to protect himself and other half-foots. (Another tidbit you don't get at first in the story--Chilchuck is not just a member of a union or the leader, he started the whole dang thing to begin with.)

But what's so lovely, and wonderful, what makes this story take over my brain so completely and utterly, is that Chilchuck doesn't stay this way. Over the course of the manga, he opens up more and more. He allows himself to be emotionally vulnerable; he shares more and more details of his life. He treats Marcille and Izutsumi like daughters, Laios and Senshi like brothers. He loves them and allows himself to be loved in return.

And that's one of many reasons that Dungeon Meshi is one of the best found-family stories I've come across in a long, long time.