#I mean he should be able to hear until the future… Right?

[spoofyleaf]

Tonight on Spoofy Needs To Go To Bed:

When Macaque told MK “there’s something coming, something you’re not ready to face” (something along those lines) in the Shadow Play episode,, what if he wasn’t talking about LBD. What if he was talking about what’s coming next? He said to SWK in the s4 special “this is the calm before the storm”, what if he’s referencing the same thing?

[zephyrchama]

[Thoughts about an MC who gets periods]

Getting periods in the Devildom must be pretty rough. Demons probably don’t get them, and the number of humans freely wandering around has to be incredibly low. If MC takes the form of a sheep then they likely don't have to deal with it immediately, but eventually that's going to wear off and they'll revert back to a human. Does the Devildom even have pads and tampons for sale?

MC might have to sheepishly ask Barbatos if he can acquire some in bulk from the human world. Barbatos would remain professional as always when inquiring about the use of these products and their role in daily life. He'd have to report it to the prince. They're both aware of what periods are, but only in a vague "oh yeah, humans do that" kind of way. (Perhaps in the future, Lucifer could use his secret Akuzon account to order more?)

There's surely some plant or potion that prevents them, but they're not meant for long term use. Probably tastes nasty over time and covers human skin in a weird oozing rash if consumed too often.

A month or two into the exchange program, MC might have to call up Solomon for aid.

---

“Can you help me with something?”

Solomon, not too interested in MC yet, agrees just to be amicable with his fellow human exchange student. They must be scared! They must be missing humans! “Is something on your mind?”

“You know how to do magic, right?”

What a silly question. It’s almost refreshing to hear. “I do.”

“Do you know… like, uh, smell…? Reducing magic? Something to cover up smells? Without being obvious, I mean. I feel like I stink and I was really hoping you could help me figure something out.”

How cute, he thinks. He can’t quite remember the time when he smelled fully human anymore, and he can’t really smell the distinct odor on people that demons can, but he knows demons can easily sniff out a human from afar. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It should go away on its own as you spend time here.”

MC isn’t convinced. “I don’t think it will…”

“Trust me. How are you finding Devildom cuisine? I know you’re not used to it, but eating more will help you adjust. I can whip up a few simpler dishes for you to try if you need help.”

MC is silent for a bit. Solomon thinks his job is done until they say quietly, “that’s not the problem.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure the brothers I live with can smell, uh, my cycle.” No use being coy about it, better get straight to the point. “They stare at me when I’m on my period. I think - no, I know - they can smell the blood. I’ve seen them sniff the air when I’m around. It's weird. And I can’t exactly stop it from happening every month.”

“Oh.” Now it’s Solomon’s turn to be quiet. He’s embarrassed and surprised, a little humbled, and also really interested in this problem. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before.

MC continues, “I think they can tell when I’m ovulating too, Asmo started lingering around more often, and Lucifer looked scarier than usual, and they all stare more, and-”

“I think I get it.” Solomon can’t stop his face from turning pink. Despite his usual grin, he doesn't think he’s ready to listen to the rest of MC’s sentence.

There should be an easy solution, but it’s something that warrants testing if MC doesn’t want the brothers noticing a sudden spell cast upon them. It could get mistaken for something malicious. Solomon says, “I might be able to help. Can you come over today?”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Princess Party Pt 2 | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader

Summary: After a drunken night with his best friend, Lando ran away from the consequences. Over the next eight months, he's reminded that he made a huge mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Pregnancy. Lando redemption.

Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

Main F1 Masterlist

prev.

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YourUserName posted a new story

liked by oscarpiastri, yoursister and others

georgerussell replied to your story

georgerussel63 let’s hope that bean doesn’t expect homemade treats in the future

→ YourUserName this is exactly why i’m crying so thanks for the reminder!

→ georgerussell63 oh no, i was joking. i'm so sorry! don’t cry! i’m on my way with ice cream

→ YourUserName i’m over ice cream now. i'll take hot dogs?

→ georgerussell63 don’t tell charles. he just released an ice cream line for you

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc don’t cry, y/n/n. bean has a life supply of free ice cream. she won’t even like cookies

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alex_albon, carmenmmundt and others

YourUserName not long now. (i believe george called this nesting)

1,123 comments

lilymhe counting down the days until i become a godmother

→ francisca.cgomes lily we’ve talked about this. i know the number for a good therapist, help with your delusions

→ alex_albon ladies, ladies, please. we’ve already had this fight. you both lose

→ georgerussell63 you all lose because i’m the only contender for godmother

→ YourUserName none of you are godmother unless you show up to meet bean in a red sparkly dress and a wand

→ georgerussell63 stop watching shrek 2

→ YourUserName never!!!

oscarpiastri the room is really coming together. those drawers look amazing

→ YourUserName i ask you to help me build one piece of furniture and i never hear the end of it

danielricciardo 2 months to go! not that i’m counting. or excited. in any way shape or form

flonorris1 such a beautiful room. bean has such an amazing mum 

charles_leclerc baby incoming!

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YourUserName posted a new story

liked by carmenmmundt, yoursister and others

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon bean's just training to be an F1 driver 

→ YourUserName isn't the term usually footballer 

→ alex_albon oh, please. that kid won’t be a footballer if uncle george and i have anything to do with it. we’ll make her the first female wdc 

→ YourUserName my poor baby. what untalented uncles she has

→ alex_albon oi! 

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63 carmen says bean was kicking so much because she’s excited to meet her aunty

→ YourUserName and carmen would be right 

→ georgerussell63 i told carmen it was because bean heard my voice and loves me so much already 

→ YourUserName and you would be wrong

→ georgerussell63 pregnancy has made you mean

→ YourUserName nah, the hormones just make you less tolerable

→ georgerussell63 after all i’ve done :(

→ YourUserName <3

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName welcome to the world baby bean l/n-norris tagged: landonorris

1,098 comments

landonorris my two beautiful girls. no words will ever express the amount of love and gratitude i have for you but i will spend the rest of my life trying to show you

→ danielricciardo simp

carlossainz55 congratulations. you make beautiful parents

alex_albon little bean is the most beautiful girl ever. i don’t think i’ve stopped crying since you named me godfather

→ lilymhe he really hasn’t. but tbf, i haven’t stopped crying since you named me godmother

→ yoursister i still think she should revoke alex's godfather title. traitor

→ alex_albon i apologised!!

→ georgerussell63 it means nothing!!! 

charles_leclerc baby bean is here! i am so excited. we can have little playdates

→ alexandrasaintmleux charles, i don’t think bean will be able to play with leo for a good while

→ YourUserName no but i can! bring him over!! 

danielricciardo who’s crying? not me. let me know when you feel ready for visitors as i may have bought a ‘few’ things

georgerussell63 beautiful girls. thank you so much for letting me be part of this journey, and for naming me godfather 

→ YourUserName it’s a thank you for driving me to the hospital and holding my hair back whilst i puked. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you and carmen

carmenmmundt it was such an honour to be part of this beautiful journey with you. 

→ YourUserName thank you for being there for me. bean and i cannot wait for our first brunch date with aunty carmen

maxverstappen1 i am very happy for the both of you. she’s beautiful 

oscarpiastri the most beautiful baby. i hope she’s enjoying that dresser 

→ YourUserName let it go, pookie x

francisca.cgomes i haven’t taken my godmother hoodie off since you gifted it to me

→ pierregasly can confirm. i'm sick of looking at shrek’s face anytime i walk behind her

mclaren our beautiful papaya baby. we can already promise that she will be the most spoiled girl in the paddock. we’re already setting up a racing nursery 🧡

→ mercedesamgf1 except she will be spending time in our garage

landonorris just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and others 

landonorris to my beautiful daughter and her astounding mother. i am in awe of the pair of you. for the past nine months, i have been the biggest idiot on the planet. and yet both of you welcomed me back into your lives without a second thought. y/n, i have loved you since we were 12 and you kissed me because i grazed my knee falling off my bike. instead of telling you that, i dragged you around the world with me whilst i raced, falling more in love with you each day. your generosity and kindness never fail to wow me. to those who don't know, i was a complete idiot. i ran away from my responsibilities and yet, she didn’t hesitate in giving me a second chance. not just as a father but as a partner. she brought our beautiful bean into the world, and i will forever cherish the pair of you. you are my whole world, and if i ever upset either of you, george has full permission to run me over with his car. to y/n and bean, i love you both forever. you are my everything.

7,995 comments

alex_albon i’m so happy for you, mate. you owe me for all the grey hairs you gave me

→ landonorris i’m grateful for your friendship, mate. i owe you for so much more than just that haha

→ YourUserName @ alex_albon you’re still in trouble

→ lilymhe yes he is

carlossainz55 felicidades, compañero 🥳❤️

danielricciardo well done, brother. y/n did an amazing job. i’m glad you took responsibility

fernandoalo_official what a beautiful family. make sure you cherish it

georgerussell63 y/n made such a beautiful bean

→ landonorris hey, part of my dna is there too (but, yes, yes she did)

→ georgerussell63 unfortunately

oscarpiastri the caption is why you kept asking me for synonyms? but seriously, i’m so glad to have been part of this journey for both of you

pierregasly 🥳🥳🥂

mclaren papaya baby! we cannot wait to see baby bean in the paddock. she’ll be the most important part of race week

arthur_leclerc i cannot believe someone willingly had a baby with you, especially someone as beautiful as y/n 

               liked by YourUserName

user1 anyone else notice that none of the wags commented on this post despite y/n being in it?

→ user2 you can guarantee they all commented on hers though because they’ve all been gushing about buying baby stuff 

→ user3 they really said y/n may have forgiven him but we certainly don’t

user4 y/n stronger than me because if my baby daddy walked away from me and my child for the entire pregnancy just to decide he wanted to be a father once it was born, i’d cut his dick off

user5 guys, not only did we finally get lando and y/n together. we got mom and dad y/n and lando together

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landonorris just posted 

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri and others 

landonorris happy 1st birthday to my prettiest princess. you’re my favourite mini muppet in the world but if you don’t stop growing then you and daddy are going to have some words. (also, daddy best be the only prince charming in your life) 

15,449 comments

YourUserName whoa whoa whoa, i thought you were my prince charming

→ landonorris sorry babe but you know you lost me the minute i looked into her eyes 

→ YourUserName and here i go crying again 

danielricciardo mate, do you really think calling yourself daddy in an insta post is a good idea?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName pay up, i told you he’d make it weird

→ YourUserName damn it, daniel. you just cost me a back massage 

georgerussell63 and best godfather of the year award goes to me for the princess castle

→ alex_albon liar! best godfather of the year ‘twas me. she danced with me the most and wanted me to have the second slice of cake

oscarpiastri can’t believe princess bean locked me in the dungeon 

→ landonorris she wasn’t impressed that you overtook me last weekend 

→ oscarpiastri sucks to suck, i guess 

francisca.cgomes i still can’t believe my baby brunch buddy is 1!! when did that happen? 

→ landonorris @ YourUserName has enjoyed playing with the brunch kitchen kit more than bean has

→ YourUserName why would you expose me this way? i pushed a kid out for you

alex_albon happy birthday baby bean! can’t believe it’s been a whole year of spoiling you

→ User6 does this mean alex has been forgiven?

→ YourSister no. 

→ alex_albon don’t lie to the internet. you gave me a hug earlier

→ lilymhe it was only so she could spit in your drink, honey

charles_leclerc happy birthday, bean! she is the most adorable little girl. i think i will need to wear my fairy wings on the weekend to help me go faster

→ pierregasly i’ve already told alpine that they need to add my tiara to the helmet

User7 okay but can we all appreciate the fact that this little girl had the majority of the Grid at her party, all dressed in some way as princesses 

→ User8 @ YourUserName c’mon, we all know you’re a girls’ girl, release the photos of the princess grid

→ YourUserName shh, i have to wait until they're racing so you've all got 2 hours to save them before they make me take them down

maxverstappen1 P had the best day with bean, and said that y/n is her new bestest friend

→ YourUserName aww my heart. please bring P around for playdates forever though, she’s the best kid 

→ kellypiquet she was so exhausted she fell asleep in her princess dress

→ YourUserName so did lando

→ landonorris hey! 

→ YourUserName you started it

User9 i think we’re all asking the same thing; when are you having the next one?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName so..? 👀

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Part of the Baby Fever Angst Series

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

F1 requests are open!

Tag list - so sorry if I missed anyone. It wasn’t finding a lot of people

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @rosecentury @prettypink11 @emmynotawards @tinyhrry @sltwins @daemyratwst @lemon-lav @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bwormie @leclercsluvs @spanishcorndogs @hard4ndsoft @formulaal @classiclitfreak @weekendlusting @evesfile @powerpuffgirly @leclercvsx

[bloatedandalone04]

Like My Boyfriend

➪the one where you and jj sneak away from your friends during a party.

Warnings: porn with very little plot, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public smut, dirty talk, breeding kink, strength kink, praise kink, probably too much swearing

Word Count: 1.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Where the hell did Y/n go?” Is a question you knew Kie was probably asking right about now as JJ fucked you up against the bathroom wall in her house. 

John B was most likely asking the same question, but directing his to JJ. 

Really, they should know by now that you and JJ cannot be trusted to not jump each other’s bones every second you get ever since you got the acceptance letter to Harvard. You would be moving within the next few months after graduation, and JJ would be staying here while he figured out what exactly he wanted to do for his own future. 

That didn’t mean you would break up when you moved away, you were definitely doing long distance, but that just meant JJ would be deprived of your sweet, soft body until he was able to go visit. 

So, he was getting all the time in now that he can while he still had you with him physically. 

The subtle bang of your body against the wall was more than likely not heard by your friends, but even if it was, there was no stopping the two of you, and your friends usually let you get away with this kinda thing. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” he muttered, his fingers definitely leaving bruises from how tightly he was gripping your thighs. “Gonna miss this sweet pussy so much.”

You moan loudly, willing dipping your head back when his hand reaches up to tangle in your hair, pulling on it until your neck is fully exposed to him. JJ has a filthy fucking mouth, and his words never failed to rile you up to no end. It was why you often found yourself in situations like this, with your friends usually close by. “Gonna miss…miss you, too,” you barely managed to say as you clung onto his shoulders. 

JJ smirked, hiking you higher against the wall, your strapless top inching further and further down your chest. His strength made you feel a bit light headed, and if you weren’t already off the ground, you were sure you would’ve fallen to it by now. “Yeah? Gonna miss how good I make you feel?”

“Yes,” you gasp, pulling at his blond hair as his lips attach to your neck. “Oh, fuck…fuck.”

He grunted against your neck, sucking and pulling at your soft skin with his teeth. “There you go, baby,” he groaned, looking down at where you and he connected. Each thrust of his hips got you wetter and wetter, your slick covering him and producing a sound that is usually only heard in pornos.  But, then again, it was impossible to not instantly become soaked whenever JJ got you in the mood. “Taking me so well.”

You moan at his praise, the light thud of your body hitting the wall only making you feel hotter. “You feel so good,” you whimpered, gripping his hair as you leaned your head back against the wall. 

“So do you, baby,” he muttered, pressing his hips closer to yours so he could reach even deeper inside you. “So fucking tight, my God.” 

You blush, your entire body on fire as your legs start to shake. They would probably be numb soon, but you didn’t care. JJ was making you feel so good, you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the fact that it was entirely possible your friends could hear you over the loud music that played through the speaker on the porch. 

The amount of times you and your boyfriend had snuck away from your friends to fuck was countless, so you were sure they were used to it at this point. And honestly, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else than with him because the summer comes around quickly, and soon enough you would be leaving. 

You have to make it count, right?

JJ’s finger dug deeper into your skin as he sped up his pace, fucking you roughly against the wall of Kie’s bathroom. It was dirty, the sounds you both were emitting, and it was exhilarating. You definitely had a thing for fucking in somewhat public places, and JJ was more than happy to feed into it. 

His lip latches onto your jaw, and he presses open mouthed kisses to your skin as he gives deep, sharp and rough thrusts of his hips. “My pretty fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, sucking a mark onto the skin below your ears. It was the spot that drove you insane, and JJ knew this. You trembled in his arms, holding onto his hair with a death grip as he continued to work you to the edge with both his body and words, “My smart, sexy girl. I’m so fucking proud of you, baby.”

You whimper, your brows furrowing as you dipped your head back. JJ was definitely your number one supporter, even ahead of your parents. They supported you, yes, but they were annoyed that you would be leaving for college instead of staying in the area. JJ was fucking estatic when you told him, and he threw you over his shoulder and carried you to your bedroom, where he loved on you for the rest of the night. 

In other words, he was pretty much perfect. “JJ,” you whined, gripping the sides of his face and tilting his face upwards so you could look him in the eyes. “I love you…love you so much.”

He grinned up at you, pressing a deep, messy kiss to your lips as he reached down to rub uneven circles on your clit. You were now only being supported by one of his hands, and he didn’t even seem fazed, and that once again had you feeling dizzy. “I love you, baby,” he said back, pressing hard against your bundle of nerves. “More than anything.”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt your high approaching. “JJ…oh, God, baby,” you moaned, kissing him again and forcing your tongue past his lips. Your muffled moans were barely heard over the sounds of his hips meeting yours and your arousal covering his abs, and the whole thing was nearly too hot to handle. 

How you ever landed yourself such a hot and perfect boyfriend, you’d never know. “Yeah, you close, baby?” He teased, knowing your body and signs better than you did. “You wanna come for me?”

You nod desperately, looking at him with hooded eyes. “Please,” you repeated the word pathetically, struggling to keep your gaze on his as you felt your walls clamp tightly around him. It allowed you to feel every inch, every vein and ridge of him, and it only pushed you closer and closer. “Oh, fuck.”

JJ grunted, poking his tongue out and running it along the edge of your jaw. “Come for me, baby,” he lightly demanded, moving his fingers faster against your clit, nearly matching it in time with his thrusts. “Come all over my cock.”

His words, the filthy things they were, went right through you, and seconds later you were coming hard around him, just like he asked of you. You squeeze your eyes shut and part your lips as you moan freely, his deep grunts as he reaches his own edge prolonging your high. “Fuck,” you gasped, holding onto him with everything you had left in you as he slowed down to a stop, keeping himself buried deep in your painted walls as he kissed all along your nearly exposed chest. 

You run your fingers through his hair, trying to make it as neat as you could with your shaky hands. He hummed, leaning up to press a firm kiss to your lips, “Gotta keep you full so you know who you belong to up there in the Ivy League,” he commented, pressing his forehead against yours as he tried to control his breathing. 

“As if it wasn’t obvious enough,” you teased, biting your lip when he slowly pulled out of you. He pushed your panties back so it covered you up again, and then he kept a firm grip on your hips as he lowered your feet to the floor. You blush deeply as you hold onto his shoulders, the aftermath of being held in his arms for so long taking over your body.

You could barely stand up, your legs shaking beyond your control, and when you looked up, you weren’t at all surprised to see the smirk on JJ’s face. “You’re not wrong there,” he muttered, helping you slide your shorts back up before straightening himself out. “Ready to go back out there and act like we didn’t just ditch them to do this?”

Laughing, you take his hand and move to lean most of your weight onto him since you couldn’t walk straight at the moment. “Yeah…I love you,”

JJ’s smirk turned into a soft grin as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you, too,” then he was leading you out of the bathroom with his arm around your waist and a content expression on his face.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)

Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.

You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.

While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you? 

You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.

Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.

Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.

Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you. 

His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth. 

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.

“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”

You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.

“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life. 

“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”

Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.

“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”

Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”

Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”

“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, because you’d do anything for him. 

“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.

A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did

[evilminji]

Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )

Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.

Danny is become King?

If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.

Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).

Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.

Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.

And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!

The headaches suck though.

But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>

Wait.

WAIT!

<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!

Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!

:O

Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.

But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.

Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.

Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)

But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.

And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.

That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.

Here, your friend could die.

You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.

You're back in less then an hour.

The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.

She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.

You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.

But it takes the shine off of it, a little.

Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!

And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)

It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!

*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

[misstycloud]

Night sounds

A loud thud woke you from your slumber and you jolted up right. What was that? You wondered. Scared that it might be an indtruder breaking in, you turned to the side of the bed to alert your husband. Only to notice he wasn’t there.

His spot was empty and when you felt the sheets, it was cold, meaning he left a while ago. Confused and even more frightened, you pull the covers towards your chest.

“Riddle..?” You anxiously whispered.

Then, the sounds of fast footsteps approaching echoed throughout the house. Your body entered a state of panic when you realised they were coming closer to your position, the bedroom.

Thump, thump, thump!

Heart racing and blood rushing in your ears, you throw yourself at the bedside table lamp and turn the switch in a frenzy.

The sudden fear disinigrated the moment you saw the intruders face. Though it was no intruder, at all. It was your damn husband!

“What the fuck.” You clasped your hand over your heart, feeling the erratic beat. Glancing back up at the man you promised to cherish and love until death, you only felt irritation building.

You were not happy over his little night scare.

Riddle knelt down beside you and cupped your face, making you want to shrug him off.

“Oh I’m so sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologised over and over.

“Don’t do that again, I though someone had broken in!” You scowled while crossing your arms.

If you hadn’t still been shaken up, perhaps you would have noticed the way your husband’s eyes darkned at the sentence. He grabbed you by the shoulders and stared at you seriously. “Don’t worry. There is no chance anyone will ever be able to get into this house, not as long as I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, whatever. But what were you even doing? It’s-“you took a glance at the clock”-three in the morning.”

While stroking your cheeks affectionately, he explained, "I was getting some water. I didn't mean to scare you."

You looked passed his frame into the dark hallway and asked, "what was that sound just now? Did you drop something?" Riddle turned your head back to him.

"I accidentally knocked a lamp over, nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep, dear. I'll just go and clean up." He planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked you back in again after you nodded, deciding sleep was more important. You still had to go to work in the morning after all.

You nuzzled into the covers and quickly fell asleep once more, with the thought of your lovely husband plaguing you. You were very lucky indeed to have a man love and cherish you as much as Riddle does. One doesn't come across a man like him often. Maybe you should pay him back some time in the future.

As you dreamed on, you had no idea of the cold expression tracing your husband's features, smile long gone. He closed the door softly behind him, satisfied when hearing a click. 'That was close', he thought while walking down the stairs. 'I can't let this happen again. Didn't think that pest would be so loud.'

Entering the living room, he stopped by a table, observing the ornament placed on it. Riddle sighed, 'now i have to ruin this pretty lamp.'

-----------

What's this? Sus noises in the middle of the night, but dont worry. Your husband is here to protect you.

[mrsackermannx]

lies | ino takuma

tags: angry (argument) sex, intruder role play, unprotected sex, sorcerer ino/non-sorcerer girlfriend, degradation kink, soft ending, not beta read.

authors note: @p00pdev1l jazz i meant to send this to you on asks and then it got super long but i swoon at the thought of being ino’s non- sorcerer gf idk there’s something about it didbdksjsksj. ive not uploaded any writing for so long bc there’s sm different ways and things i want to write and idk how to start idk…this lowkey is it i suppose. i miss writing hehe been so busy but yeh ENJOY MY DEPRAVITY.

- - -

You love your life with Ino, and he loves his life with you. No matter what a curse throws at him, he knows as soon as he sees you at the end of the day that it’ll all be worth it.

But it’s one night that he comes home especially roughed up…

You’re watching TV, but you hear him shuffling into your apartment, carefully locking up behind him, taking off his shoes. “Hello pretty girl,” he murmurs, voice almost hoarse. He leans over you to kiss your forehead. “I'm off to bed, you should too…”

You’re tired of the whispering phone calls, the leaving you to run away god knows where in the middle of dinner, you’re sick of not being able to tell your friends what Ino does exactly?

All these lies, all this mystery. You call him out on it and it leads to a fight…

It’s your sharp, “I’ve been waiting up for you,” that hits him right in the gut.

“Baby, I tell you not to.”

“Tell me?”

“i meant ask, baby,” his voice lowers, almost breaking from exhaustion. He's so close to snapping. Too close.“I mean ask—so-please, not now.”

His usually sunny demeanour is all gone. He’s working so hard for the recognition of so many people, you being one of them. He wants to be good enough, he wants to exorcise as many curses as he can. He has his own goals, his own vision of the future he wants you in. But he’s so fucking exhausted right now.

He’s not usually like this, he’s usually so reactive it’s almost unbearable. So you push and push.

“I don't even know what you do. What kind of guy are you? Who have I been dating-“

“What. What did you just say?”

You blink twice.

He’s never raised his voice at you like this before. It’s not that it scares you but it ignites something in you, stroking something dark and shameful.

He cages you against the wall, glaring at you. He smells like Ino, looks like Ino, caramel hair tousled and tucked behind each ear. As usual, so devastatingly, boyishly handsome, but his energy is sharper, his grin gone.

“Telling me you don’t know who I am? Huh? Then why the fuck do you let me inside you every night when I come home? If I’m so bad? If I’m this bad guy you don’t know? You let a stranger touch you? Huh?”

“Takuma-“

He gives you such a pointed stare your words escape you. One arm cages you below him whilst the other cups your chin. “You think I’m some kind of bad guy? Don’t you know me by now? Haven’t we been through enough?”

This is necessary communication, he knows it, you know it. But that doesn’t stop the suffocating tension crackling between you two any less bearable.

“I know you’re a good guy, in how you treat me, who you are, but I have no idea who you are sometimes and it’s— it’s, something that i-i…”

You’re getting choked up, but you’re also overheating. Ino is never like this, never so the opposite of himself, never so full of darkness and not his light.

But you guessed it was a good thing you weren’t afraid of the dark, or the man you loved so dearly in front of you.

“What?”

“-it scares me,” you blurt.

“But you like being scared.”

His voice is rough, teetering on the line between restraint and pure lust. He's neither asking nor stating.

“You like it when I come home in the dead of night.” He cups your pussy, your silk nightdress bunching against his palm, he clicks his tongue at the heat. “Sneaking in beside you, you practically baring your pussy for me to use, abuse and—fuck, until you’re begging for more, and more-“

“Takuma,” you whimper into his chest, he smells so like him, he strokes through your hair like he always does, so full of love. He’s holding your most intimate part of you like he owns you, you suppose he does. You suppose you’ve been in the palm of his hand from the moment you met him.

“Not so innocent then are you? When you’re taking my cock in your cunt in the middle of the night? Begging for it, begging for me to wreck this tight little-“

“Takuma! Please.”

He alternates pressure on your clit, over and over, feeling your drip down his fingers.

“I bet you’d like my mask too? Wouldn’t you?”

His hand wraps around your throat, contrasting the way his thumb was smoothing across your jaw. You always felt so special with Ino, like his lover, regardless of whether you were fighting.

“What mask?” Your voice was so shaky you barely recognised it. His hand mapped down his torso to his pocket. Then he slipped on a black mask with nothing but holes for his eyes. “So, this? This is who you are?”

He hated this. He hated you thinking he was some bad guy, some good for nothing criminal.

“Who do you want me to be?” he edged closer, his voice slow and dripping with something dangerous, something that made your pupils dilate, and your pulse run.

“How about tonight I be the bad guy you want me to be,” he drawled. His hands skimmed up and down your sides, admiring…staking their claim on what was beneath them.

“Take me, Takuma.”

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck you?” he shoved his knee between your thighs, “Or take you?” He squeezed your neck until you moaned, “You and your control? Your body? Your soul.”

“Both.”

It was a blur before you processed that Ino had you flipped against the wall. That he was already brushing your entrance with his cock and then teasing you against it. The head of him almost slipped in, over and over. But he had you flailing and whimpering like a desperate mess instead.

“Shush now, pretty girl. I don’t care if your boyfriend comes home. I’m using this cunt as my own anyway.”

“Oh my—fuck.”

That was it. Your control, your pain, you let it all go. You let it free, you let the wild throbbing in your core take over. You would have fallen to the floor without the wall and Ino standing firm behind you. You gave into your sinful desires.

He trailed his hands down your body, then in a movement so unexpected you cried out as he tore apart your night dress. “Let's hope your boyfriend doesn’t come home to you getting fucked like this, angel.”

He thrusts into you in one brutal slam. “Fuck I love ruining good girls like you,” he sounded so undone that it had you close to breaking, moaning with every slam into your pussy.

“Your cunts are made to be broken into like this, waiting for every drop of cum, squeezing me so tight like that. Fluttering on cock that you’ve been craving so badly, you—pretty —little—slut.”

It’s a primal fucking, and Ino seems to take everything out on you, but you submit so easily you’re succumbing to pleasure you’ve never felt. The things he says are dark and twisted, but the way he holds you is anything but, he holds you like you’re precious, even if he calls you his slut, to him you’re his angel.

When you start to match his rhythm, bucking out your hips to take in more of him, he comes so powerfully you feel his tears slide your back. Panting and groaning out your name, “I love you,” his voice shakes, and he’s breathless as he locks you in his arms.

“You’re so precious to me. More than my own life. More than any goal. I’ll tell you anything, and everything.”

You’re overcome, reeling from your orgasm, but nevertheless you accept his embrace just as tight. “I love you, Takuma.”

“I love you,” he chants, for a while. Until you’re sleeping, bodies coiled together, his hand in your hair. And it feels good. Too good to have finally told you everything.

[elsa-fogen]

So. On the topic of Alastor headcannons. What's your opinion on these radio themed ones:

Alastor has an internal radio. Like the concept of having songs play through your head, but more literal. He can tune to stations as if he was a radio himself. And if he really wants to, he can connect himself to other radios in his immediate vicinity and play that music though them instead.

His antlers help his radio powers. So when they get damaged (in battle, sheds them, whatever reason you wanna put here) his internal radio goes bazerk. Think; flipping stations randomly, connecting to other radios when he doesn't want it to, playing loud static at random. All the chaos.

He can hear through other radios. He once had to listen to Vox playing Barbie Girl through a TV right next to a radio in Vox's studio, for a week straight. Surely enough; Barbie Girl is now banned from all radio stations in hell.

What do you think? I got more like these if you like them. Give me a generic topic and I can probably list several under that category.

OHH RADIO HEASCANONS

Yes, but he also can turn it on and off when he needs

Never thought about it, but it's funny (don't think i'm going to use it anywhere but who knows, maybe i'll make some funzies with that)

Pretty much used it in one my comic slihdsdkjfh +headcanon that Vox taught him that, he also can control when and which radio he wants to listen (or his head would be a horrible mess) ut i like headcanon that he has some songs banned on the radio lol

speaking of other radiostations, i actually made an instruction on How To get Your Own Radio Station In Hell, let me just find it real quick... i wanted to share it long ago, but couldn't find a moment

Imagine you're a normal sinner in hell, who suddenly wants to become radio host for one small station. and it's possible! and you won't even die, and get some benefits, if succeed. So, it's kinda hard, but doable

1. You need to write a letter asking for a permission to have your own station to The Radio Demon himself. a) letter should be handwritten, and your handwriting must be at least readable. Or you can use typewriter, if you find one. DO NOT write it on a computer and then print, you'll probably won't be able to get your station in following 50 years b) You should send your letter via post. DO NOT try to meet Radio Demon in person, you'll just lose time, or even if you get lucky, he won't take your letter. b*) Now you can just come to Hazbin Hotel and give your letter to Charlie Morningstar and ask her to give it to Radio Demon. Don't worry, she won't read it. b**) You should leave your contacts, that's obligatory if you want to get an answer - that means you have to have a place to live. c) Do not try to e-mail him, he doesn't even have a phone or computer to receive it. If someone gives you 100% totally real Radio Demon's e-mail - don't trust them, its fake 2. You'll get answer from the Radio Demon in 1-2 weeks, he'll send you set of papers which you have to fill out. You'll probably have to do it 3-4 times so don't worry, he's just testing your dedication. In these papers you give general info about your future radio station - the name, schedule, what activities you'll gonna have and what kinds of music wanna play. Include some jazz, especially if you mostly want to have modern music. You'll also have to tell a bit about yourself. You absolutely should not be connected to voxtech in any way. 2.b) he may simply dislike your ass and become a real bureaucratic monster. Keep trying - you can impress him with you dedication and he may like you in the end 3. When you got your application approved, you'll have to sign a contract, that gives you right to broadcast on a certain radio frequency. According to the contract - your radio station belongs to the Radio Demon, you'll just getting it in unlimited use, until the contract terminated. You DO NOT sell your soul to the Radio Demon. He can broadcast over you any time he needs and you can't do anything about it. He can also ask you to change something in your broadcast schedule, ask to replace of cancel any of your programs, ban music and so on. (Tho, he probably won't do anything of it). But since your radio station is his property, you're as well under his protection while you on your station, so if someone attacks you and you're unable to protect yourself and your station, you'll have a way to contact him and ask for help. You'll have a specific channel for it and list of morse codes for emergencies. You should not use this channel for anything else, or you'll lose your station. 4. After all paperwork is done and approved, you have to get equipment for your station. DO NOT use ANYTHING voxtech related, and you absolutely cannot have TV on your station. 5. After you got all the equipment, invite the Radio Demon to your station. He'll set everything up for you and give you list of emergency codes. Do not try to interrupt his infodumps even if you lost track of it and can't understand shit, it's better if you show enthusiasm. 6. And done! Now you are happy small radio host! The Radio Demon may show up on your station sometimes to check how everything's going, but don't worry about it, he won't be bother you too often after few weeks.

P. S. You are NOT friends with the Radio Demon, even if he acts friendly and calls you "dear" - that's just his normal, not-threatenning behavior P. P. S. Don't be too personal, don't dump on him your problems if they aren't related to the station when he comes to you. Just make him some coffee, talk about weather and tell that everything works just fine P. P. P. S. ABSOLUTELY! DO NOT! TRY TO HUG HIM! He'll just laugh at you, and if you somehow succeed he'll make everything to make you regret every action in your life and afterlife that led you to this moment (and it doesn't necessarily means he will torture you physically, once he run into masacistic freak that got a boner when was tortured) P. P. P. P. S. If you caught feelings for him - suffer in silence and NEVER try to confess. You'll lose your station immediately and will never get it back.

All these instructions are totally written by Rosie who heared so many complaints from Alastor about how people want to become a radio host but can't do it properly

And Alastor is probably making them experience what he went through to become a radio host in life

GOD, TUMBLR WHY UR SUCH AN ASS TODAY WTF LET ME JUST POST MY SILLY TEXT

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead. TW for this chapter: mention of panic attack.)

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: i’d like to say, this is by far the hardest chapter i’ve written. it was so intense and emotional but i hope you guys enjoy it. (feedbacks, comments and anything else are welcome, feel free to speak your mind) that’s it, see ya! chapter one here, chapter two here

chapter three.

after much thinking, you decided to go home and cool off, just the thought of making nick and chris uncomfortable because their brother was a dick make you blood boil.

you texted the group of you three telling them you had some stuff to do and needed to leave early, but that you’d see them soon.

chris was the first one to reply, you were still driving home when his message popped up but you didn’t want to be distracted, so you conclude it’s best to reply later.

as you passed by the tall buildings and palm trees of LA, your mind just went away with thoughts of matthew.

no guy looked at you that way before, sure, a few did hate you for past relationships and even because you always hold them accountable when they do shitty things.

but the coldness of matt’s eyes, there was so much hate, it was almost like he’s holding in something else.

jealousy? you think to yourself but shakes your head right away.

not a fucking chance.

all you know is that his attempts to hurt you didn’t and will not work in the future. the only thing bothering you is not being able to read him as much as you do to all the other guys. there’s a blockage and your curiosity to find out more was actually growing bigger now that he seemed way too angry about you flirting with chris.

finally, you get home, opening the door and throwing the keys on the couch. you go straight to bed, getting yourself comfortable on the between the sheets and buffing loudly. you hear another beep.

oh shit, chris. you thought grabbing your phone immediately, he didn’t reply on the group chat, but sent you a private message.

“did you go home because of what happened earlier?”

you frown, does he know about your argument with matt? fuck, that could not happen, things would get messy and really awkward.

but then another message popped up.

“sorry, i couldn’t control myself… you’re too tempting.”

you let out a huge sigh of relief, smiling at your phone and responding to him.

“trust me, it was very hard to leave after what you did, christopher. but there's indeed an emergency, don’t worry.”

you lied for the first time to chris and a sinking feeling weighed your heart, maybe one day you’d be able to tell him about what actually happened, but that’s not the right time yet.

“hahaha, i guess you should walk on me getting out of the shower more then. ;)”

you smile again, it was so adorable to see chris’ bold and confident side. it was also fucking hot.

“so i can win and make you blush again? pfft, that’d be boring.”

chris types for a while and then stops, then types again and you chuckled, he’s still the cute guy you knew.

“you’re lucky we weren’t in my room, the only reason why i didn’t bend you over that wall and fucked you right there was because one of my stupid brothers could catch us.”

you stare at the message for a couple seconds, the smile turning into an amused smirk. so this is the same guy who facetimes you until he can fall asleep after watching a horror movie?

an exciting feeling took over your whole body, but then you read the last sentence.

''one of my stupid brothers could catch us.”

you close your eyes and the image of matt stabbing you with his gaze is all over your head again.

this was starting to piss you off, you never really thought about matthew that much. he was just annoying and kind of there while you hangout with your best friends, but now? even flirting with someone else over text, you can’t help but think of him.

this is not over.

before you could respond chris, you dozed off.

your phone is suddenly buzzing, you open your eyes confused, the room was already pitch black and then you check the time, it’s 3AM.

“who the fuck is calling at 3AM?” you murmured to yourself but got your answer right away. ”matt?” you almost yell, getting up off the bed and staring at the contact calling.

what he could possibly want from you at 3AM? was he determined to annoy you this much? you roll your eyes and wait for it to go straight to voicemail, expecting him to give up, but then he actually sent you a voice message.

“hey…” his voice was shaken, breathless. and you frowned confused. “chris and nick are out for tonight and…” he stops again and you hear a sob. “i need to take my anxiety medication but i can’t get up. i hate to ask you this but… can you please help me?”

“i’ll be there in 10.”

you immediately text him without thinking twice, leaving your room and grabbing the keys on the couch.

on the way to the triplets house, your mind raced just as much as your heart. you forgot about the argument from this morning, all you wanted to do is get there before anything bad could happen.

after 15 minutes, you finally get there using your spare key to open the house. it was quiet, dark and you could hear low sobs and shaky breaths close to the living room wall. you rush to the cabinet, grabbing his pills and getting a cup of water, following the noise and soon finding matthew on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, you bend over touching his shoulder and he grabs your hand abruptly, looking at you with a terrified expression. his eyes were swollen and moist, his lips were red from biting it hard and you could feel his whole grip shaking around your hand.

“do not touch me.” he yells but loses strength, leaning over the wall still holding your arm which makes you fall next to him. his eyes widened and he almost looked like he was about to apologise but then he glared at your hand holding his medication. “how did you know where it was?”

“nick.” you reply, and he stays quiet for a while. his grip still on your hand, but you didn’t even notice it. “he told me about what happened years ago…”

he remains quiet, just breathing heavily, his gaze focused on the ceiling of the living room, you also stayed quiet. the pain in his lost eyes made your heart ache, suddenly he loosened his grip and you watched him stretch his hand. you frowned and he rolled his eyes.

“the medication.” he says and you give to him, he takes the cup of water from your other hand and shug all of it after putting the pill into his mouth.

and that’s when shit happens.

you don’t know why, but you feel the urge to hug him. all these years of anger, annoyance and rudeness meant so much less when you just saw how much pain he was feeling. sure, nothing excuses his behaviour, but you imagined the way those kids treated him, the reason why he changed so much and why he refused to talk about it even with the people he trusted the most.

he was just a little kid, for god sake.

and so you do it.

you wrap your arms around him and he tries to push you away. “what the fuck are you doing?” he yells, and you hug him tighter.

“it’s not your fault, matt.” you whisper.

“what are you talking about? get off of me!” he still protested and you repeated again, this time a little louder.

“it’s not your fault. none of this is.”

and then he stops fighting against your hug, you hear loud sobs, his body shaking and his arms squeezing around your waist, he lets his head fall on your shoulder. your hand reaches his hair, gently caressing it and the other rubbing his back.

“i…” he tries to speak but all it came out was loud whimpers, and you hug him even tighter.

“i know…” you tell him quietly.

both of you stayed that way for a while, your arms and hands giving him warmth and comfort. he eventually calms down and when you feel him lift his head up loosening the hug, you look at him and he stares at you, a few tears still falling and you can’t help but wipe them with your fingers. the contact of you skin makes matt close his eyes, he puts a hand over yours and let a huge sigh out.

“why?” he asks, still with his eyes closed.

“what do you mean?” you tilt your head to the side, confused.

“why are you being nice to me when i'm nothing but a jerk to you all the time?” he opens his eyes and stares at you with an expression you’ve never seen before on his face.

you think for a second, biting your lips. matthew is staring at you intensely waiting for a response.

“i don’t know…” you confess. “i just don’t like to see you in pain, that’s all.”

“but why?” he questions you again, this time, he pressed your hand harder against his face.

“because i know how it feels.” you blurt it out without thinking and he doesn’t react, nodding his head quietly.

“fuck…” he finally speaks, avoiding your gaze for the first time that night. he huffs looking at you again, slowly getting closer, now you are inches from each other faces. “you’re the worst.” he mutters, shutting his eyes hard and keeping your palm against his cheek. he lets out another huff of breath and then speaks. “you make me feel... weird."

you grab his face with both hands and make him stare at your eyes, he was still crying.

“tell me how you feel, matt.” you whisper, at this point your chest was about to explode with strong heartbeats. “open your heart to me, i’m not gonna hurt you…” you continue, looking at his teary eyes. “i promise.”

matthew place both of his hand over yours and hesitates a little, you fingers gently rubbing his cheeks and he finally open his mouth to speak when you hear the front door opening.

“matt?” a yell makes both of you turn to the front door, chris and nick just arrived.

they stare at you on the ground and nick rushes over to see what’s happening, while chris is just staring at your hands on his brothers face and his over yours, feeling a mixture of jealousy and worry.

“the fuck happen to you?” nick asks, and you get away from matthew like you just woke up from a trance. you glance at chris by the front door and notice his weird expression, but decide to not think about it since a lot is happening at the moment.

“just had a panic attack.” he shrugs, getting up from the ground and looking at you. “she helped me, i’m okay.”

chris and nick turn to you with eyebrows raised, like they just heard the most absurd thing ever.

“now that i’m not needed anymore…” you pick up the keys from the counter and head to the door not wanting to explain things not even you understand, but chris grabs your arm, you could see his jaw clenched.

“you should’ve called us.” he’s still holding you, but staring at matt who seemed to be back at his usual nonchalant self again. “not her.”

“thought you said you guys were staying the night there. didn’t want to bother your little vacation.” you feel the grip on your arm getting tighter and that infuriates you.

“are you done?” you ask chris angrily and he finally looks at you, immediately letting your arm go. “that’s what i thought.”

you turn to nick waving goodbye, he mutters “i’ll text you later” and you leave without looking at chris or matt.

what the hell just happened?

it’s all you could think on the way home while your phone was blowing up with messages from chris.

[lliminall]

Passione Boys After You Dump Them | Headcanons

How they react and how they try to win you back. Because we love to see a man grovel.

tags: gn reader, slightly toxic in some of them, nsfw implications in abbacchio’s

Giorno Giovanna

Your announcement that you wanted to break up with him wasn’t exactly a surprise to the Don. He’s perceptive of your feelings, and he knows that he doesn’t have as much free time as most. He certainly isn’t able to be there for you as often as other suitors would. That doesn’t mean he’s happy to hear it, though.

This may be one of the few moments where you see his carefully crafted shell begin to crack. You mean more to Giorno than you know. He’s had so few people he loves in his life. The thought of losing you breaks his heart in a way he hasn’t experienced before.

Giorno isn’t willing to let this conversation end until you see things his way, and he is incredibly persuasive when he wants to be. Maybe you should wait and cool off a bit, amore. He can take care of all of this if you’ll just give him some time.

But…you don’t give in. He realizes, too late, that in all the time he’s spent away from you, these problems have become too much for you to bear any longer. You made up your mind and nothing he says is going to change it. Any further attempts to convince you are equally rebuffed, until he accepts that you’re just not willing to speak to him right now.

So he gives you space. No big deal. He’s patient. He can keep himself from pursuing you…for a while. The last thing Giorno wants to do is act impulsively on his emotions, and he’s certainly feeling more emotional than usual right now. He lets you have some distance, but ultimately he’s confident in his ability to win you back. No one else can take care of you like he can.

There may never be a moment in his mind where he truly feels as if he’s lost you. You’re not really broken up, you’re just taking a break. Yes, maybe you were right in saying that he hasn’t been setting aside enough time for you. And yes, he can understand why you might feel as if you only come second place to other priorities in his life. He’s a busy guy! But you have to understand that he’s doing his best, and he’ll find a way to do better. For your sake.

So he leaves you alone. Maybe you need a few weeks, or even a month or two. When he feels you’ve calmed down enough, he’ll start reappearing in your life again. As a friend, of course! He wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, ha ha, but you two have always gotten along, even before you were together, so surely you won’t object to him just checking in? :)

And it’s like you’d forgotten how easy he is to talk to. How helpful his advice is. How nice it feels to bask in the glow of one his soft, genuine smiles, which so few others are lucky enough to see. And so, maybe you end up spending more time with him than you wanted to, in the wake of your breakup. He acts so nonchalant about all of it, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to be spending time with you, no awkwardness, no lingering bitterness, that you can’t help but lean into it.

He knows exactly the right time to strike up a conversation about getting back together. When you’re alone together and the mood is high (and maybe you’re starting to realize that you really do miss him. Just a little bit), he’ll lay a hand on your arm and finally allow himself to be honest with you again.

“I’ve thought about what you said, and I want to apologize for the ways I’ve fallen short. But you must understand, amore, there’s no one for me but you. If you can find it in yourself to give me another chance, I promise I’ll prove that to you.”

Guido Mista

Totally blindsided. He doesn’t even know how to react at first. I mean, sure, you two had been having some issues, but it wasn’t anything that serious, right?? He’s already planned your whole lives together. He even picked out the name of your future cat. You can’t just leave him now!

Be prepared to have a very long, very emotional argument. Mista cannot accept you leaving him, and he can’t understand why you’re not willing to stay and work these problems out. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so distraught as he is now. He loves you so much, and he knows you love him too. Shouldn’t that be enough?

It isn’t, and you tell him that, and it absolutely crushes him. You’re both in tears by the time you leave, and even then he’s following you out the door trying to convince you to stay. He’ll be blowing up your phone afterwards, and then your email if you block him. There’s almost nothing too embarrassing for him at this point, he’d cashapp you money just to get you to read the note attached. This poor man lmao. He just really, really loves you, and he can’t not have you in his life.

He’s so mad at you. He can’t even remember the last time someone cut him this deep. The rest of the team is immediately made aware of how crushed he is, and Mista doesn’t even have to tell them. The cloud hanging over him is dark enough that passerby’s on the street can tell there’s something wrong with this man.

I can see him getting a bit nasty with you during this period. Whether it’s through text or if he manages to get you face to face, he’s not the type of person to hide how he feels, and right now he is feeling a lot.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to show up here if you would fucking unblock me and listen! Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, ok? I just…you have to hear me out. Please?”

The time apart from you, no matter how long, leaves him absolutely miserable. The distance does give him time to think, though. About everything you said to him that night, the issues you couldn’t bear anymore. If you can’t bear the problems, and he can’t bear to be away from you, some compromises will just have to be made.

I give it a month, max, before he comes back to you, now much more level-headed and solemn. He’s trying his hardest to make things right again. He just needs you to meet him halfway.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo knew you two had been on the rocks lately. He isn’t an idiot. Every argument, every miscommunication, every day you became a bit more withdrawn, it was all noticed and filed away carefully in his mind. But when you finally find the courage to sit him down and tell him it’s over, he still can’t control himself. He’s panicked, at first, until he hides that vulnerability behind a much harder and safer emotion: his anger.

The resulting outburst, of course, only serves to strengthen your resolve. This is exactly why you had to leave to begin with, and as much as you’d hoped he would have found it in himself to be civil, you knew it would go like this. He’s so upset he can hardly breathe, and when the yelling finally becomes too much, you leave him to fall apart alone.

With time, the rage subsides to simmering anger that lingers and persists for weeks. It’s easier to pretend he hates you for it. You left him, like everyone always does. He trusted you and loved you more than anyone else, and processing those feelings is just too painful, so he turns them into anger instead. At least that’s an emotion he knows what to do with.

It isn’t sustainable, though. Maybe it takes a push from Bucciarati or another friend, someone he respects enough to take correction from, but sooner or later he realizes he has to process these awful feelings. He misses you. Every day. And maybe you weren’t entirely wrong about your reasons for leaving. But if those reasons were things that could be changed…maybe this can still be fixed.

The next time you see him, he’s unrecognizable from the man you left screaming in his apartment. He’s nervous, clearly, but composed. He asks you gently if you have time to talk, and the tension visibly drains from his body when you agree.

He starts by apologizing for how things went that night. He shouldn’t ever speak to you that way, and he knows that. He just didn’t know how to control himself then, but he’s learning those skills now! If there’s one thing Fugo can do, it’s study, and he tells you all about the books he’s been reading to better himself. Topics ranging from anger management, to emotional intelligence, to relationship conflict.

He asks, anxiously, if you would be willing to give him another shot. He’ll even agree to see a couples counselor, if it makes you feel more comfortable. He knows that with his effort to improve, and your willingness to find better ways to work with him, you two can work all of this out. He just hopes you still think it’s worth the effort.

“I know I messed up, but I just wanted you to see that I’m trying. And I’m getting better. And I’d like to keep getting better with you, if that’s ok.”

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno can’t say that he didn’t see this coming. The state of your relationship was clearly less than ideal. Bruno is a man who stretches himself thin, who gives so many pieces of his time to so many people and projects, that sometimes it can feel as if you’re only getting the leftover scraps of him.

He’d always assumed that he would be able to commit more of himself to you later. In the future, when Passione was stable, when the Don didn’t need him so much, when his community was safe without him. Of course, there’s no guarantee that any of these things would happen soon or ever, and his assumption that you would be willing to wait on him indefinitely is proven wrong.

Immediately, he tries to deescalate. Explaining that all of these problems are fixable, that he loves you so much, that maybe you should both just go to bed and things will feel better when you’ve slept on it.

“Slow down, amore. Shh, I know. Things have been difficult lately, but we can work through all of this. Just trust me, all right?”

As the conversation goes on and he sees that you aren’t going to be convinced, he begins to lose his composure. Bruno is a passionate man. In his time as a Capo he’s become accustomed to being obeyed, to having his every request carried out, and to having the absolute trust of most of the people he considers important to him. For you, his most important person, to be slipping out of his grasp with no control is not something he’s prepared to deal with. At least not gracefully.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so frantic as he is while you’re leaving. He tries to remain composed, but he can only stay so calm when he’s watching the love of his life prepare to walk out on him. You can’t do this. He can’t let you do this. He can take care of everything, he always takes care of everything, if you’ll just let him, don’t you see?

In the aftermath, he’s devastated. He throws himself back into his work, and to most people he would appear to be functioning just fine in your absence. To his team, however, this facade is easily seen through. He’s sharp. Barbed. A little more ruthless, a lot more unfocused. Giorno all but forces him to take some time off and recollect himself, and Bruno does so begrudgingly.

Time off is just time without a distraction. It hurts (and maybe digs up some trauma from his childhood that he didn’t realize he still harbored), but it also allows him to do some necessary reevaluations. Bruno cannot live without you. In the time he’s loved you, you’ve become his reason for the work he does. You’re the reason he wants to clean up these streets, the reason he needs his city to be safe, the reason he needs to be a strong and dependable figure, always improving, always moving forward.

I don’t think it would take him long to come to this conclusion. A month, max, before he seeks you out again, ready to offer himself back up you—as much of himself as he can. He’s ready to make compromises if you are too.

Narancia Ghirga

Dear god. Brace yourself lmao

Narancia’s abandonment issues run bone-deep. From the earliest stages of his life, the people he loves the most have been leaving him in one way or another. He cannot bear to be left behind again—especially not by you.

Prepare for screaming, crying, punching walls, and desperate begging. There’s no outcome where you and Narancia have a calm, respectful conversation about this. As soon as you mention leaving him, he’s spiraling. He needs you to take it back. He needs you to change your mind. He needs you to apologize and promise to never ever even think of leaving him again. He could never imagine walking out on you. How can you do this to him?

When you leave and the panic begins to wear off, he’s furious. He’ll oscillate between hopeless despair and anger, and you’ll be on the receiving end of both. Narancia is not leaving you alone. You may have to dissolve into tears yourself, pleading with him to just give you the space you need and work on getting himself over this. He may agree—temporarily. Even if he promises to stop showing up and bothering you in person, that doesn’t mean he can stop himself from texting you when he’s drunk in the wee hours of the morning.

“Fuck, how can you do this?! I’m sorry! Whatever I did wrong, I’m sorry and I promise I can fix it! Please, can we just talk?”

With enough time, he’ll have calmed down enough to at least have a more mature conversation about what happened. And that conversation will happen. It has to. He knows you asked him to stay away, but you have to understand that he can’t ever do that. He needs you, and he’ll do anything to prove that to you, no matter how long it takes.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio’s immediate reaction is to shut down. It’s a self-preserving reflex more than anything, but to you it’s just confirmation that what you’re doing is right. You can’t keep begging for what he’s obviously not willing to give: vulnerability. Inwardly Abbacchio is crumbling, but the only response he allows you to see is irritation and cold indifference. Go ahead, leave him. It’s not like you were ever going to last to begin with, and it’s not like he can’t find another fuck-buddy whenever he wants.

This is, of course, a lie. You’ve never been just a hookup to him, but the fact that he could even say something so cruel to you is just more proof that you need to remove yourself from him. By the end of the argument, you’re crying and he’s waiting for you to shut the door behind you so he can finally break out the alcohol and get plastered.

Very few people would be able to sense that there was anything wrong with him. He falls back on his old method of disguising his misery: burying it under ten masks of indifference. He puts on a convincing performance, but he knows that’s all it is. You were a light in the dark trenches of his life, bright and warm and inviting, and he snuffed you out. One more colossal failure to haunt him at night.

He finds other partners. One night stands and shallow, meaningless hookups. They’re meant to be a distraction, but they’re only half-successful. His connection with you wasn’t just about physical pleasure, it was about an emotional connection that his other partners can’t replicate. He loved you, in a way he hasn’t loved anyone else.

It will take Abbacchio a very long time to work through this. He doesn’t just have to bite back his pride to ask for reconciliation, he has to overcome his self-loathing enough to allow himself to hope. When he does come back to you, he comes as a man who’s finally begun to build himself back up into someone he believes is worthy of you.

“Hey. I know it’s been a long time, but I just wanted to check up on you. And maybe, if it’s all right…could we go somewhere and talk? There are some things I wanted to tell you.”

[kinardsevan]

30 day fluff challenge: day sixteen

"i want to stay up with you"

Evan yawns as he stretches out on the bed of the truck before snuggling closer to Tommy on the inflatable mattress. 

“You don’t have to stay awake,” Tommy tells him, running his knuckles up and down Evan’s tricep. “The meteor shower isn’t going to start for another hour or so and I know you just came off shift.” 

Evan shakes his head, nuzzling up into Tommy’s neck and biting down gently. They’ve barely seen each other this week after both picked up extra shifts. They’re working towards a down payment on a house, and while they both have savings, neither of them are necessarily interested in dipping into that for the purchase. As they’ve discussed, between medical expenses, the need to have a savings at any given time due to the nature of their work and the injuries it causes, and other future plans, the logic of starting a new savings specifically towards a home makes more sense. Still, that doesn’t mean that being apart doesn’t suck. 

“I’ve missed you,” Evan murmurs to him as he finds the space beneath Tommy’s ear and sucks softly on it. His boyfriend groans softly, presses his hand harder into the space on the center of Evan’s spine. 

“You’re missing the sunset,” Tommy says after a minute, teasing. 

“Missed you more,” Evan mumbles against his skin. He slides a hand underneath Tommy’s hoodie, brushing his fingers over his boyfriend’s toned abs. He’s not in search of anything—just wants to feel the landscape of his muscles beneath his fingers. 

“Should we get a cat,” Tommy muses. Evan huffs softly, knowing his boyfriend is trying to distract him from settling in. He leans back, resting his head on the curve of Tommy’s bicep. 

“Are you seriously asking me about us getting an animal together? Or are you just trying to distract me?” 

Tommy shrugs, but smirks at him. “Both can be true.” 

Evan rolls his eyes, but shifts down so that his head is in the juncture of Tommy’s armpit. 

“What happened to the discussion of a dog,” he asks, fingers still moving lazily over Tommy’s abs. 

“We do not have the availability right now for a dog,” Tommy counters. “But a cat is a step up from something like a bird while also still being able to mostly take care of themselves. I think you’d like a black cat.” 

“Of course, I would,” Evan states, a smirk crossing his face. “I already have one.” 

“Hey,” Tommy retorts. “I don’t complain about living with a venerable golden retriever.” 

“Venerable,” Evan comments. “Meaning respected. Proves my point entirely.” Tommy tilts Evan’s chin up, and when their gazees lock, Tommy is glaring at him, even though there’s a smile on his face. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he states. “Yes, baby, I would love to get a dog, once we actually have a house. But I mean now.” 

Evan shrugs then, looking out at the sunset. “I mean yes, a black cat would be a nice fit in your place until we move.” 

Tommy nods then. “Cool. I was looking at some rescues, and there are some options.” 

Evan looks back up at him, incredulous. “I thought I was the one taking us over hurdles like it’s the olympics.” 

“Just thought I’d match your energy,” Tommy replies, scrunching his nose at Evan before leaning in and pecking him. Evan nuzzles their nose after, and then settles once more on his chest. It’s quiet for a bit then, and Tommy stares at the sunset for a bit before looking down when he swears he hears Evan snore. He lets out a chuckle, which seems to disturb him. 

“Still awake,” Evan murmurs with a voice so laced with sleep that it’s obvious he had nodded off. 

“Sure,” Tommy laughs. 

Evan sighs, lifting his head again to look at Tommy. “I want to stay up with you.” 

Tommy’s expression softens then, staring at Evan with utter adoration. 

“Alright,” he murmurs after a long moment, reaching for his pocket. “You wanna see the cats?” 

Evan just nods in response. 

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing: live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings: age gap, angst, heartbreak.

Masterlist:

WC: 1,544k

Sorry for late update I hope you all enjoy and stay tuned for my future works♥️

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

With the way last visit went, heeseung can only assume you're completely done with him.

Realistically, why wouldn’t you be after what you saw on his phone?

That being said.

He still couldn’t understand how you moved on that quickly.

He knows he messed up badly, but was it really that bad for you to already have forgotten about him and shacked up with another man?

Did you not feel the same way about him as he felt about you? Were all your I love yous not as meaningful as his? Was it just that easy for you to get over him?

How could you possibly be with someone new when it hasn’t even been a month yet? He couldn’t even imagine looking at a girl that wasn’t you right now or ever, for that matter.

But whatever.

None of it really mattered now anyway because he was leaving tomorrow, and this would be the end of this beautiful yet sad chapter in his life.

I’m leaving for Canada tomorrow morning. Could I come over and see Bruno one last time?

You were just saying bye to sunghoon he had apologized for his whole plan looking back on It it probably wasn’t his best idea but what’s done is done and you accepted that and you were just appreciative he went through all that to get back at your ex even though it didn’t go as planned.

However, he did give you some advice about Heeseung to ponder.

What wasn’t helping you make a decision was the necklace heeseung showed you last time he was over. Maybe you should hear him out, maybe Sunghoon was giving you good advice, and maybe you should just listen to your heart and contact him just one last time for closure, but you didn’t want him to know you were still hung up on him it’d probably give him satisfaction to see you hurting after he played with you and used you all these months, but maybe he was really sorry maybe his feelings were real and maybe maybe maybe.

Sigh.

“I’ll think about it, hoon.” You walked him to the door, and he trailed behind with his luggage. “Thank you for coming over, and thanks for all your advice.”

“Anytime,” he wrapped you up in a hug. “I’ll visit you again soon, okay?” You nodded, embracing him for the last time.

You shut the door after seeing him off, and right after the door shut, you heard your phone buzz.

You watched Sunghoon back out of the driveway all the way until he was out of your sight before going to your phone.

Reaching for it, you turned it on, checked your notifications, and covered your mouth with your palm when you saw his contact pop up.

Opening the message, your eyes scanned carefully over each word.

What did he mean by leaving for Canada? Your brows furrowed upon reading the text. Was he moving away forever? For good? Were you not going to be able to see him again? Was this just it?

With your brain racked with questions, you try to come up with answers only he had as you replied with shaky hands and typed out a simple yes in response.

He replied before you could even turn your phone off. He literally had his phone on the whole time, and he was just waiting for you to reply.

“Thank you. Is five okay?”

“Five is okay.”

You put your phone down on the table, attempting to fan your eyes dry, when you feel tears pricking them. You don’t even know why you are crying.

You went to your room to get yourself together a bit before he came over.

After about an hour later, you heard the doorbell ring, and you composed yourself as much as possible before answering.

“Hi,” he muttered softly when you opened the door, his eyes undeniably full of emotions that you couldn’t quite read. “May I come in?” You nodded and moved aside.

You had already set all of Bruno’s stuff in the living room so he didn’t have to be in your home longer than needed.

“Hey, boy!” Heeseung said excitedly, and Bruno ran towards him. Heeseung kneeled down and held the puppy in his hands, chuckling as Bruno licked his cheek. He grabbed the leash next to him and secured it on Bruno’s neck. “I’ll bring him back in about half an hour,” he informed you.

You didn’t even look at him. You answered with a quiet okay and went upstairs, letting him see himself out.

Heeseung sighed lowering his head as he made his exit he walked about a mile down the road till he reached the little park you and him had frequently visited in the past.

He walked a trail that led to a tiny bridge with a lake view and sat down, releasing a heavy sigh.

Bruno was next to him, panting and taking in the scenery as heeseung did.

Heeseung smiled fondly at Bruno. He had gotten so big in such a short time span, too bad he wasn’t able to watch him grow up big and strong with you.

He frowns at the thought of you. “I hurt your mommy, Bruno. I messed up really bad, and I broke her trust.” he drops his head, completely disappointed with himself. If only he hadn’t acted so stupid and immature when he first met you, this would have never even happened in the first place.

He picked up a pebble next to him, tossing it into the water and watching the little ripples it created. He stayed there for a while, his feet dangling off the bridge as he gently swung them back and forth.

Bruno sat down next to heeseung, resting his head on his thigh. “I'm gonna miss you so much.” he fluffs his ears playfully. “And your mommy, too.” he stands up after a few more minutes and dusts off his pants. “Come on, boy, let’s get you home. It’s getting chilly out here.”

He slowly walked back to your house, taking as much time as he could cause he knew after this, it was really over.

When he finally arrived at your home, he knocked on your door to return Bruno.

You let him in wordlessly, just like before. He took a few steps inside, unleashing Bruno, and he went to the food and water bowls right away, making heeseung chuckle.

“Here,” you managed to say in a normal voice, and you handed him his final check.

“Oh,” he turns to you, taking it from your hands. “Thanks,” he muttered, folding the check and shoving it into his pocket.

He stood around for a bit, thinking you might say something or at least tell him bye or have a safe trip.

Who is he kidding? You probably couldn’t wait for him to leave. “Thank you for letting me see him,” he did his best to say without getting choked up, but that was difficult, seeing that he was saying goodbye to what used to be his little family.

“You’re welcome.” You swallowed thickly, that familiar feeling making its way to your throat, but you fought off the tears despite them stinging your eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Uhh,” he looked down, chewing on his bottom lip, hot tears gathering in his eyes as well; as much as he tried not to cry, he just couldn’t contain it. “I just wanted to say I’m really gonna miss you and Bruno, and I know I already said I’m sorry, but I’m gonna say it again because I really am. I’m so sorry for breaking the trust you had in me,” he looked up at you, meeting your soft gaze. “If I could take it all back, I would cause I-i still love you so much, y/n.”

You immediately broke eye contact, looking everywhere in the living room except him.

Why did he have to make this so hard? Why couldn’t he just leave instead of confusing you?

You were still conflicted about what to do, and you didn’t get enough time to think about how to deal with the situation. You weren’t about to make a rash decision just cause he was leaving, so you stayed quiet.

As the seconds passed without you giving him a response or even so much as looking at him, he took that as a silent sign to just go, understanding that what you and he once had was officially over, which hurt him deeply, but he knew there was nothing else he could do.

You stayed quiet until he walked to the door.

You stayed quiet when he twisted the knob.

You stayed quiet when he said I love you one last time.

And you stayed quiet until he left.

When the door shuts, that’s when you finally let your tears fall.

It hurt to watch the love of your life walk out of your life, but you told yourself it’d be okay.

You were used to people leaving, and you were used to being alone.

Despite everything you two did together, he was just another person who used you and left.

You’d get over him just like the rest.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[coneyislandbabey]

well, my boyfriend's in a band. -> e.roundtree

WARNINGS: maybe some profanities

SYNOPSIS: Nobody thinks the thing between you and Eddie can be as pure and real as you say it is. word count: 1,323

NOTES: written for this request!

A lot of people talked about you and Eddie, now that you were publicly together, but none of them knew what they were saying. They spun the story like it was as old as time, unchangeable, inevitable, as sure a disaster as whatever or whoever they were comparing you to in the moment. Him, a rockstar, high on the enormous tide of fame and cocaine, a man who could have anything in the world at the snap of his fingers. You, a couple of years younger, elusive writer from the Los Angeles scene, enigmatic partier– naïve, obviously getting taken for a ride.

It never occurred to any of them that a man like Eddie Roundtree could be truly, inescapably gone for you. Why devote yourself to one girl when you could have as many as you wanted at any time? People had been asking that question about Billy Dunne for the Six’s entire career, and they couldn’t believe another band member was making the same ‘mistake’. Fame should mean freedom. As if getting to give your all to someone and receive their all in return wasn’t a kind of freedom in of itself.  

Let them talk. What difference did it make to you? 

When you stepped onto the tour bus, the afterparty was already in full swing. You hadn’t been able to catch the show because your flight had gotten in too late, but it didn’t matter; you’d be joining Eddie on tour for the next few months, so you had plenty of shows in your future. All you cared about was getting to your man. You located him sitting on the far corner of the couch, squished in with Graham and Warren and Warren’s girl of the night. You had spotted him before he spotted you, and you took a moment to take in the face you hadn’t been able to see since the tour started. His warm brown eyes crinkled in laughter, the sweep of his burnt sugar hair over his forehead. He was so beautiful it made your breath catch every time you allowed yourself to drink him in like that. 

“(y/n)!” Warren shouted, being the one to notice you first in the fray of the party, pointing to you with one long finger as if the shout wasn’t enough. Eddie’s head whipped around, and his mouth stretched into the widest grin at the sight of you. You returned the smile with your own, squeezing through the small, packed crowd until you landed right in his lap. 

Eddie’s arms instantly went around your waist, hands settling warm and solid on your lower back. Yours went loosely around his shoulders, your head dipping down to a well-received kiss. His eyes were bloodshot and he was half gone to whatever booze and drugs he’d done already, but even through the haze of inebriation they were settled on you. 

“You’re here, I can breathe again,” he said, voice lazy. He was leaned all the way back, head resting on the window behind him, like it was the first time his body had been able to relax in weeks. You lifted your palm to his cheek, rubbing your thumb gently along his lower lip, curved up in that little smirk of his. 

You bent your face close to him so that only he could hear you. “Missed you, too, baby boy.”

Eddie leaned over the side of the couch, and when he came back up he was holding his lighter– red, engraved with his name in gold, a gift from you shortly after you had started dating– and a joint. He lifted the joint and you took it in your lips, he grabbed your chin and held your face gently with his guitar-calloused fingers as he lit it for you. You took a long drag, exhaling only after the joint was between Eddie’s lips. 

Eddie’s hands went back to your waist, skimming up beneath your shirt and skating across your spine. The whole time he’d been away and you’d been stuck in Los Angeles without him, you’d felt unmoored, but you hadn’t realized the extent of it until you were finally back in his arms, back with your anchor. This was where you were meant to be, and Eddie felt that just as much as you did. 

The next night, you stood in the wings with Rod watching the band play. They were all mesmerizing in their own ways, especially, of course, Daisy and Billy singing together, but your eyes never left Eddie. He always exuded confidence, but never more so than when he was onstage, and it was intoxicating to see. He wore that cocky smirk on his face, the one that either made you want to smack him or kiss him and nothing in between, his body moving as one with the bass. He’d never wanted to play the instrument, you knew, but god did he play it like it had been made specifically for him. 

Any chance he got, his eyes were on you, even onstage, even in the middle of a song. As the song came to an end, he caught your eye for the hundredth time that night, bringing his hand to his mouth and blowing a kiss into the wings for you. You laughed, pretending to catch it and press it to your heart, making him grin before he had to turn away and start playing the next song. 

“That guy’s got it fuckin’ bad for you, huh,” Rod observed, and you snorted. 

“Mm, he better,” you nodded. 

Eddie made a beeline for you as soon as the show was over, shedding his bass on the way and scooping you up in his arms. You squeezed him tightly, laughing as he picked you up off the floor and spun you around. When he set you back down on the ground, you grabbed his face and kissed him, skin warm from the lights and exertion everywhere you touched, hair sweaty where your fingers tangled with it at the nape of his neck. 

“You were enthralling,” you told him once you had pulled away. 

“That was my best show so far,” he said, “Had to pull out all the stops because I knew my girl was watching.”

“Well, you really blew me away,” you laughed. “But you blow me away every time, you always will.” 

You two skipped the afterparty that night, instead heading straight to Eddie’s hotel room. You needed just each other, alone, away from the hecticness of tour. You wanted Eddie all to yourself, you always did, and Eddie would give you as much of himself as he could at every chance, just as you did for him. That’s why you found him so easy to love; he knew what you needed from him, and was nearly tripping over himself to give it to you. 

The next morning, you were in a diner with Eddie catching a quick breakfast before the buses had to leave. Your eyes scanned the newspaper rack in boredom as you waited for your food, and your mouth drew up into a smirk as you spotted something familiar. 

You grabbed the tabloid and turned, showing it to Eddie. On the front was a photo of him on stage from the night before, eyes turned towards the wings, hand extended mid-gesture as he blew you a kiss. A smaller photo was superimposed in the corner, catching the two of you walking out of the venue later that night, your arm looped through the crook of his elbow as you walked back to the hotel. The headline was something invasive and completely false about your relationship, but you ignored it. 

“They love to talk about us,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“These pictures are pretty good, actually,” Eddie said, grabbing the tabloid to get a better look. “I should get in touch with them and ask if I can have some copies of ‘em.”

tag list: @eonnyx

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. x

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chapter summary: an old friend finds you at your lowest point, and you're confronted with ghosts of the past. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 5.7k chapter warnings: HEAVY ANGST. Grief. Time jumps. Referenced death of family members and romantic partners. Canon typical violence. Blood mention. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: I took a week off to get my shit together. I hope you are still with me :) Also, please pay attention to dates in this chapter.

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

-March 7, 2022-

You hobble forward through the snow, dragging your right foot behind you for as long as you can until you’re forced to use it to step forward. Every time you have to bear weight on your ankle, you try to mentally prepare yourself for the pain, to convince yourself it’s not that bad. But each time your injured foot comes in contact with the ground, you realize your imagination didn’t do it any justice. Still, you try to keep the noises you make in response down to nothing more than sharp inhales. Despite the fact that the boy trailing a few steps behind you always keeps his eyes cast down, he sees everything, and the last thing you want him to notice is the severity of your injury. 

Both of you have more important things to worry about. 

It’s a forgivingly warm day, and by forgivingly warm, you mean not freezing. Snow still covers the ground, so tightly packed that in some areas you can walk on top of it, but in others you have to forage a path – it’s nearly above your knees. Without the support system of the group you had just been with, there was no way you’d be able to make it in this weather. This was the plan – head South, for warmer weather. But still, you’ve no real destination or purpose, you’re kind of wandering aimlessly through the woods and mountains, with nothing to direct you but a cracked compass. 

Despite the pain you’re in, you find the discomfort a welcome reprieve. If you’re focused on that, you’re not thinking of her. Of what you’d just lost, which would spiral into all the things you had lost, and so on and so forth. If you let yourself go down that path, you wouldn’t be able to come back, despite your future looking more and more uncertain each day. 

The boots that crunch behind you echo your own footsteps, so when they come to a sudden halt, you turn to look at him. He puts a finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?” 

His head tilts towards the wind. It’s hard enough to hear already, between the rushing river to your left, and the whistling of the breeze through the pines to your right. It ruffles his dark hair and you watch him – but it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking when his eyes are obstructed by a pair of Rayban Wayfarers perched on the bridge of his nose. You’d found them – along with the aviators you wore – on a road full of abandoned cars about three days back. Or was it…four? You’d have to look at your journal. Either way, you’d known they were necessary to avoid snow blindness, especially now that the sun was out. 

After a few moments of listening, he shakes his head. “I thought I heard horses.” 

Whether he did or not doesn’t matter. “We should move back towards the woods,” you advise.

He frowns, but doesn’t argue, and you abandon the easy path in favor of what’s safer, but also much, much, harder terrain to move over. Now, you have to move slower, but the pain is just as bad as before. 

You’re not sure how much time passes before you lose your footing over some gnarled tree roots, and it sends you to the ground. It hurts, and because you weren’t prepared for it, sharp cry you let out can’t be held back. 

“Shit!” 

Within a second, the boy is kneeling at your side, brow furrowed in concern. And you’re reminded, with him hovering over you, that he’s not a boy anymore.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” you say rapidly, rolling onto your stomach to push yourself up to a seated position. 

“No you’re not,” he crouches down, gesturing to your foot. One of his hands lands on your shoulder, keeping you from trying to rise to your feet.  “You’re clearly not.”

You lift up your pants to tighten the cloth you’ve wrapped around your ankle – a makeshift compression sleeve – even though you know it’s not going to fix the problem. It’s main purpose, really, is to hide the majority of the bruising and swelling. It makes it easier for you both to stay in denial of how bad the situation really is. “I twisted it. It’s fine.”

“It’s fucking broken,” he insists. “You know it is. We can’t keep going like this, we need to rest, and food. You need to ice it and actually let it fucking heal-”

“Ethan,” you hiss. “Just where the fuck are we going to do that?”

Wherever you are is incredibly remote, you hadn’t been able to find a reliable shelter since you first started running away. 

Your nephew frowns again, his head dropping. “You’re right. We’re fucked, aren’t we?” 

“We’re not fucked,” you say, even if you don’t believe it. “We’ve seen worse.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know....this is pretty fucking bad, right?” 

There was something equally tragic about almost every situation you’d been in since the beginning of the outbreak, so it’s honestly hard if you’re actually doomed or not. 

“I mean we survived….that,” you gesture towards the general direction from which you’d come, even if it’s a week’s worth of travel away. 

“Maybe we’re still not out of it.” 

“We are. The worst is over.” Despite your own doubts, you try to remain determined for his sake. 

Ethan only sighs. He doesn’t argue with you, and rarely does. It doesn’t mean he agrees with you. Even after everything you’d been through, he’s sensitive – and incredibly introspective. 

This conversation was getting filed away to bring up later. There’s a lot of things you know he wants to talk about, but he knows now is not the time for those conversations.

“Let’s keep moving,” you decide. “Hopefully we’ll find shelter soon, and when we do, I promise, you can rest.” 

“You can rest,” he corrects.

You hum your affirmation, and he stands. The thick pelt that’s draped over his shoulders shifts when his hand reaches out to help you up. There’s still blood that stains his clothing, and it’s caked under his fingernails. Yours too. It’d be nice to clean yourself off properly, but with the unpredictable temperatures, you’re not interested in diving into the river and risking hypothermia.

The second that you rise to your feet, you can see you are – as Ethan predicted – fucked. 

There’s four, hulking figures cantering towards you on horseback. You turn to look into the woods. “Fuck, we have to-” you fumble for the revolver strapped at your hip, and Ethan lifts his rifle, but it’s too late. Before you can even draw your weapons, or comprehend an escape plan, you’re surrounded. 

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” there’s at least two guns trained directly at you. “Hands up.” After everything that had gone down, you’re out of bullets, so even if it might’ve been a good bluff, a gun would only get you so far. 

You both obey, but Ethan subtly shifts his weight so he stands in front of you. “Hey kid. Step away from mom or we’ll shoot you both.”

The words come from the man on the horse directly in front of you. Probably the leader, if you had to guess, and clad just like his counterparts. They’re all clad in muted tones, handkerchiefs obscuring their mouths and cowboy hats casting shadows over their eyes. There’s a dog seated obediently at one of the horses feet. 

You don’t say anything as Ethan steps away. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both been cornered like this before. And hopefully not the last, you think, before realizing just how grim of a wish that would be. Either way, he knows what to do. Silence is an incredibly effective card to play when you have absolutely nothing to offer. It allows you to bide your time, to strategize, to listen.

Once Ethan is an appropriate distance away, he raises his chin in defiance. “What brings you to the area?” 

“Nothing. We’re passing through,” you answer. Maybe that would be enough. Maybe the only thing you really can use as leverage right now is just how down on your luck you actually are. Unfortunately, you have found that even when you have nothing to give, there are still things that can be taken.

“What’s with all the blood?” another man asks, this one to your left. “You in some kind of trouble?”

“Only the usual kind.”

“Infected?”

“We aren’t sick.” 

“We’ll see…” the third man whistles to the dog at his feet, which trots forward with a low growl to sniff at your shoes. 

Neither you or Ethan have been bit, so you know you’re in the clear, but that doesn’t make things any less hopeless. You exchange a sidelong glance with your nephew as the dog sniffs at you, and you glance to the only cowboy who has been silent the whole time, the one at your right. He clears his throat, adjusts his hat, and you catch a glimpse of his eyes….just for a second. The dog backs away.

“Looks like you aren’t lying,” the cowboy in front of you sounds almost satisfied. “Both of you, take off those glasses.” 

You sigh, glancing over at Ethan. 

“Don’t look at him, just do it.” 

You do, pushing them off the bridge of your nose and up into your matted and tangled hair. Pointedly, you turn to look at the men surrounding you. Revealing your face is always a risk, and you’ve made plenty of enemies who would recognize you. But you’re out of options.

“Where are you headed?”

“South,” you say. “Just trying to get out of the cold.” 

“If think this is cold, then you must have not been in the area long enough.”

Actually, I have, asshole. Is a decade long enough? You keep the commentary to yourself. 

“Any friends nearby we should know about?” 

Your stomach twists. No. But he doesn’t deserve the story. Not when all you want to do is forget every second of the last week. “Can you just tell us what you want from us?”

“Answer the question.”

“Hold on,” the man to your right speaks up for the first time, and you turn to look over at him. “What’s your name?” His voice is muffled by the bandana.

Hesitantly, you give him your first. 

The man pulls his handkerchief down around his neck, pushes the brim of his hat back. Now, you can see him clearly. He looks familiar, but it’s not someone you know from this lifetime. His long, dark hair pokes out from where it’s slicked back behind his ears. He looks far too young to be the first person that comes to mind. But….maybe. 

And then he repeats your name, adds your last himself. How does he know?

You tilt your head to the side, squint against the sun. 

“....Tommy?” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Huddled at the far end of a couch, you’re still trying to make sense of the situation when Tommy settles into a chair that he pulls alongside you. 

“Let me take a look at your ankle.” 

“It’s fine, really,” you insist, even though all your efforts to refuse help since you’ve arrived have been futile.

It’s the most normal-looking community you’d seen in a decade. Completely self-sufficient and self-governed – no FEDRA, no Fireflies. Hell, you’d just showered under warm, running water – had watched the blood and dirt and grime swirl about the tiles before disappearing down the drain. And now, despite the temperature having dropped since nightfall, you are perfectly warm in a thin gray sweater, thanks to the central heating and a fire crackling in the fireplace. It seems far too civilized to be real. 

Your eyes flick behind Tommy towards the stairs, and you register the sound of the water running above you. Ethan. For the past few days, he hasn’t left your sight once, such a force of habit that leaving him alone puts you on edge. If something happens, and you’re separated….

“He’ll be fine,” Tommy assures you, almost like he can read your mind. You focus back on him, but don’t have anything to offer in response. He sighs, lowers his voice. “Whatever happened to you, I want you to know that you’re safe. And can trust me. You know that, right?” 

You study Tommy. Of course, you want to trust him. But he is a man, after all. A man you haven’t seen in a long time. You had been betrayed so many times by people you thought you could trust that it was no longer something you could give so easily. The sincerity in his expression, the conviction with which he speaks, however, causes you to soften. “C-Can I?” 

“Of course,” Tommy says. “We knew each other….before.” 

“I know, I know.” You nod, wearily, and take in the room. “Guess it’s just….a bit of a shock.”

“I get it,” he sympathizes. “But I’m here to help. If I wasn’t, all this…” he gestures around the living room of the once-empty house he’s letting you use for the night. “...would be a huge waste of time and resources.”

You offer a small smile, feel some of the apprehension fade, and allow him to examine your ankle. When you’d gotten a glimpse of it in the shower, you really couldn’t deny the severity of the situation. 

“It does look like it could be broken,” Tommy says as he begins to wrap it in a bandage. It’s so sensitive, you can’t even watch, trying not to wince. “Tomorrow, I’ll get the doctor to come by and take a look. But for now, we’ll ice it and keep it elevated. Maria’s coming by later with dinner and some medicine that should help with the discomfort.” 

You nod. To be real, the whole situation seems too surreal. There is something interesting about this situation – that right after one of the most traumatic events of your life, someone you knew from before was there to help. It wasn’t nothing. 

And you’re aware that there are a thousand questions that hang between you. It’s overwhelming, you don’t know what one you want to pick, or if you even want to. So you keep it simple. “Who’s Maria?” 

Tommy maneuvers a pillow under your foot and gingerly rests an ice pack on top. “She only kind of runs the place. And….she’s also my girlfriend.”

“How nice,” you say, earnestly. 

“Yeah….” Tommy smiles to himself. “Yeah, it is nice. I have a life here. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt that way.”

His candid nature further helps you relax. If you can trust him, and he feels safe here….maybe you are, too.  

“Look, I’m sorry, but I have to ask…” Tommy begins, rubbing his hands together and looking over his shoulder. “But uh….the kid….Ethan…is he….”

You tilt your head.

“Is he….Joel’s?” 

“Oh,“ your eyes widen. You register that a less hardened version of yourself might have laughed at the misunderstanding. But not now. Something twists deep in your gut at the implication. “No, no. No. He’s not mine. He’s my nephew. My brother’s son.”

“Okay,” Tommy looks almost relieved. “Sorry, it's just. He’s so young and you sort of look alike and-”

“It’s alright, Tommy,” you say. Because you can see why he thinks that. You are old enough to be Ethan’s mother, and people constantly assume he’s your son. Most of the time, you don’t bother to correct them. No one needed that information. Ethan was only a child when his parents passed. The two of you were all that remained of your family, and if it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be here. -“I get it.”

It’s been awhile since you’ve thought of Joel, of Sarah. It seems cruel, but it’s really just a matter of self-preservation. For some time, right after the outbreak, you had tried to find them. But you weren’t willing to abandon Ethan or Vincent, and there was only so much you could go. You kept losing people, and then started to avoid thinking about them entirely. Those memories became a distraction. You had more important things to focus on. Staying alive. Only when things were quiet would you let yourself indulge. 

“He’s still alive,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the silence. 

It almost feels selfish to be relieved that Joel’s alive.  Because anyone who remembers what it was like before has survived, against all odds. And it’d be impossible to meet anyone who hasn’t traded over part of their humanity to last this long. 

Despite that, you aren’t surprised. Joel was practical, smart….a protector. You remembered a hot summer night, the way he’d made some guy harassing you and Sarah cower and retreat with all his friends. It would be terrifying to be on the receiving end of that rage. What kinds of things was he capable of? Maybe you’re just projecting. 

“And Sarah?” You think of her, her sweet smile and quick wit. 

Tommy’s head drops, he shakes his head once. 

“No….really?” It’s such a stupid question to ask. As if he’d make such a terrible joke. 

At first, you’re overwhelmed by the anger you feel. It grips you tight around your throat and you struggle to breath as Tommy continues. 

“It was the night everything went down. The military had these orders to kill all civilians….we all got split up. Sarah and Joel were cornered by this soldier. I shot him but…. I got there too late…she, uh….yeah….” 

The anger dissipates quickly. Because you know all too well that it’s not useful. You’re completely powerless, it won’t fix anything. So all that momentum and energy comes screeching to a halt. You’re left thinking of Joel, of what that loss must have felt like. What you’re feeling now probably isn’t a fraction of what he felt. And you feel terrible. 

“No,” you choke out, the frustration fizzling into grief. “She was so-”

All that time you’d spent with her, all those years ago, yet you still can see her so vividly. 

Something you’ve always longed for is the ability to know, the second you meet someone new, just how much they are going to change your life. You think of Sarah, standing timidly at the end of your driveway, asking to use your landline. That was it. Then, she was always over at your place – eating your snacks, sprawled out on your couch watching television, asking for life advice as if you were qualified to give it. In the end, you’d probably learned more from her than what you had to offer. It wasn’t fair. Not to her. Not to Joel. Not to Tommy. Or you. 

“I know, it’s-” Tommy starts, but he doesn’t finish. You understand. What is he supposed to say?

You’ve been a fortress, held together by nothing but sticks and plaster, and this is the blow that takes you down. It’s not just Sarah, it’s everything you’ve been holding back for the past week. That you’d hidden from Ethan because you didn’t want him to worry. But you can only take so much loss, pitching forward to sob into your palms.

You don’t cry like you used to. The tears come, but you don’t make any noise, save for the shaky, staggered inhales your body forces you to take to self-regulate. There’s a hand on your shoulder, and a weight settles next to you on the couch. “I’m s-sorry,” you manage through a faltering breath.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, but he wraps his arms around you. Something in the back of your brain reminds you that this could be a part of some long con. But you’re sick of listening to that voice. You lean into him, and accept the little bit of comfort, because you can’t remember the last time it’s been offered to you. So much time spent being strong, but you’re only human, and no one is built to endure this much without breaking. 

“Where is he?” you ask Tommy, once you’ve finally managed to pull yourself together, his hand still between your shoulder blades. “Is he here?” 

“Last time I saw him, we were livin’ in the Boston QZ.” Tommy shakes his head. “But it’s….been awhile since we’ve spoken.” 

They had always seemed close, but you don’t press, because you get the impression it’s painful to talk about. You wonder what kind of man Joel must have become after losing Sarah. What else would he have to fight for? You know how loss has changed you, too. How all of this has changed you. For better, and for worse. 

“I bet he would be glad to know you’re still here,” says Tommy, patting your back.

“Sure,” you say. “But it’s been a long time.”

“It has been. But you took good care of him and Sarah,” Tommy says. “So there’s a place for you here. If you want to stay, the house is yours.” 

“Tommy, I can’t-” You aren’t really sure why you are refusing. It’s all so much. And it doesn’t even make sense to do it, because where had you been planning to go to begin with? You’re just stubborn. You know if you stop moving, everything will catch up to you. 

“You don’t have to decide tonight. But at least wait until you’re back on your feet.”

“Is that…a joke?” you glance towards your ankle, relieved to find some remaining proof of your sense of humor, something you’re pretty sure you can’t go on without. 

Tommy seems to share this relief, smiling gently. “It wasn’t intentional.” 

There’s a lull, then: “Maria was a lawyer, too. She could use your help on the council.”

You sniff, wipe at a stray tear that falls at the mention of your old life, the job that you were constantly complaining about. Everything had been perfect, and you had taken it for granted. “I don’t know how much of that stuff I even remember.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re family,” Tommy speaks definitively. “Maybe not technically. But eventually…you would’ve been.” That makes you ache, and he goes on. “It’s the least I can do.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 10, 2024-

The wind rustles the leaves of the trees, through the windchimes that hang off your back porch. The sun is on the horizon, you can tell because there’s a red glow behind your eyelids. Huffing, you fold your body forward over your feet, pulling yourself towards the floor by the backs of your ankles, before stepping back into a lunge. 

The sound of a door sliding up interrupts the quiet, then two plates hit a glass tabletop. 

“Breakfast.” 

You open your eyes. Ethan’s head is tilted as he glances over at you. “I can’t believe you still do this shit everyday.” 

“Old habits die hard.” You push yourself up off the tattered blanket you’ve been using as a yoga mat and roll it up. “Gotta stay limber.” 

It’s the truth. You’re in your forties now, and have spent the last twenty years under constant physical and mental stress. If there’s anything you can do to reverse the damage and be a little kinder to your body, you’re going to do it.

You put your hands on your hips and look at the omelets he’s prepared. “Wow,” you say. “You know, you’re becoming quite the chef.”

“One of us has to.”

You ignore his dig to take a sip of the tea he’s prepared you. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Patrol. I have to leave in like 20 minutes. Are you going out today?”

“Tomorrow,” you correct, sitting in the chair across from him. “But today I have to meet with Eugene, and then I told Maria I’d look after the baby while she gets some work done.” 

“Makes sense. Tommy told me they’re hardly sleeping. How is she?” 

“She’s doing good. But…there used to be this saying…It takes a village.” 

Ethan considers this. “I still don’t know how you and dad looked after me all those years.” 

“You were five years old, not five weeks. At least you could walk.” 

“That’s still young. It must’ve been hard.”

“It was but….” you shrug. “We made it.”

Ethan looks into the backyard, like he’s contemplating the past two years you’d spent in this house. “You think this is it?” 

After Tommy had brought you to Jackson, you’d never left. Will it last? Is really what he’s asking. It’s easy to feel jaded. The last place you’d been before Jackson had housed you for almost a decade. It hadn’t been nearly as nice as this, but it had its appeal. Today, you feel hopeful. “It’d be nice if it was.” 

Ethan seems comforted by your answer. “I don’t remember much…from those days. Back at the beginning of everything.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” you say. There are so many things from that time you’d erase from memory if given the chance. Some things never felt less jarring, even with time. 

Ethan looks down at his food. “I miss them. I wish I got to know them better.”

You think of your brother, of Elizabeth. His parents. “You knew them,” you assure him. “And they loved you.” 

Ethan studies the divots in the glass of the patio table. He’d grown up to be a spitting image of his dad. In fact, if Vincent were still alive, you would’ve found a way to give him shit about it. I knew you were self-absorbed, but don’t you think cloning yourself is a little extreme? But he’s not here, so you whisper those sorts of things when no one else can hear you, and hope that somehow he can. 

He finishes his last bite of food and stands, towering over you, tall and lanky. When he reaches to collect his plate, you stop him. “I’ll get it. Don’t want you running late.”

“Thanks,” he leans down and gives you a quick hug. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun is about to set when he returns. You’re back from Maria’s, mellowing out on the couch with your knitting while listening to an old comedy album you’d found the last time you were on patrol. 

“Hey,” you crane your neck to see him kicking off his boots in the foyer. Taking your shoes off when you walk in a house was a habit that had taken some getting used to. Before Jackson, you’d been so used to sleeping in your clothing, your shoes, knife and gun curled by your side, ready to grab at a moment's notice. The first week you’d lived here, you and Ethan had slept on the couches in the living room and refused to separate. 

In general, there were a lot of things that had taken some getting used to while you were settling in. But humans have a natural instinct to put down roots. It was only a matter of time before you’d start to thaw out. And boy did you thaw. 

For a long time, you were resistant to staying. At first, it was just for the night, then, it was until your foot got better. Your foot got better, and then you wanted to put on some weight. Then one day, you were sitting in the Tipsy Bison, sandwiched in a booth listening to Tommy brazenly flirt with Maria while watching Ethan joke with the kid his age working at the bar. It had been three months, and you didn’t want to leave anymore. 

Twenty years of running, of not knowing when your next meal was coming from, or what could be lurking around every corner. It was a different kind of exhaustion, and the second that you felt safe, it all caught up to you. All you did for the first two months was sleep. 

You woke only when Maria dropped by. Like Tommy had said, Maria had been a lawyer before. A prosecutor, however, so the work was different. You’d had a good laugh over the fact that you were raised by a ruthless criminal defense attorney with questionable clientele, because that was her worst nightmare. She was always enthusiastically telling you about things happening amongst the town council, and would even ask for your expertise. When you were done sleeping off the exhaustion, she’d extended you an offer to work for the town council. 

Not leaving your house for weeks you assumed would earn you the reputation of the town recluse. But when you started to participate in community affairs, no one gave you any grief. That was probably thanks to Ethan, who from the beginning, fit right in. He was desperate for a social life outside of you, and more importantly, with kids his actual age. 

Between helping Maria on the council, and Eugene with his….business…you didn’t go out on patrol too often. But you were glad you and Ethan had managed to find some sort of normalcy in Jackson. Even though you’d never admit this to him, the last group you’d lived in had some…..questionable traditions. 

“Did Tommy come by already?” Ethan asks as he strolls into the living room and practically throws himself down on the couch. 

“No,” you say. “Was he supposed to?” 

“He said he was coming over tonight because he has a surprise for you or something?”

“A surprise?” you ask. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Ethan says, sounding slightly annoyed by your questions. Sometimes, you still get glimpses of the fifteen-year-old boy he once was. He had always been well-behaved, but those sorts of things slipped through on occasion. 

“Hmmm,” you return to your knitting, but don’t think much of it. It’s not like Tommy coming over is out of the ordinary. If it wasn’t him walking through your front door, it was Maria, and you and Ethan were over at theirs several times a week as well – whether it was for dinner or to help out with their new baby. 

You think about what Tommy had told you when he first encouraged you to stay. He’d called you family. At the time, you didn’t think that was true. But now, it was. Maybe you weren’t bonded together by blood, but you’d grown to care for each other as if you were. Opening your heart used to feel impossible, painful even….but all the people who had helped you at your lowest had proven otherwise. Shutting them out only made things worse. After everything you’d been through, all you had left were the people you cared about. What else was there? It was stupid to do anything else but love. 

There’s a knock on your screen door, and Ethan is the first to practically jump off the sofa. You don’t get up right away, figuring that Tommy will stroll in shortly. 

Instead, you hear more voices than you were expecting, the screen door closing behind Ethan, his muffled “Nice to meet you.” 

The sun is setting, and the last thing you want to do is go and meet someone who's new to the community to make small talk. But then you hear Ethan call for you. You need to be a good member of the community and keep up appearances. Begrudgingly, you lift yourself out of the sofa and walk down the hallway to your front door. 

You slide into your sneakers, pull on your pair of aviators to protect from the intense light of the sun on the horizon, stepping onto the patio. 

“What’s up?” you ask, stepping out onto the patio next to Ethan, and Tommy is to your right, though you are hardly aware of him as you focus immediately on the man standing in front of you.

You recognize him instantly. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. It doesn’t matter that his hair is more gray now than it is brown. It doesn’t matter or that the lines on his face are deeper, and his shoulders slump under an invisible weight. There’s a scar on his temple that hadn’t been there before, and his eyes, once warm and sparkling, seem impossibly cool and distant. He’s hardened by the world, and so are you.

“Joel?” 

It’s a stupid to pretend like you don’t know that it’s him. Like you need the confirmation. And you lower your sunglasses, just in case you’re seeing something you want to see, and not what’s actually in front of you. 

When you meet his eyes, his jaw clenches, and something unrecognizable flashes in his eyes.

“How are-” you step forward, and you’re not sure why. 

What were you expecting, a hug? A kiss? Some grand reunion, like you hadn’t lived separate lives for two decades, like you hadn’t loved someone else in the meantime. He probably had, too. So it’s not like you’d be able to pick up where you left off and forget all the things that happened. It wouldn’t be possible, but you have an instinctual urge to wrap him in your arms, to press your face into his chest as you did so many times before. You’d tilt your head back to kiss his neck, his jaw, and to feel his stubble scratch your face – you’d do it anyway, because you don’t care if it hurts you. 

Joel steps backwards just as you move closer. There’s a young girl hovering behind him, the same way that Sarah used to. But it’s hard to see much of her from where you are standing. His eyes flicker between you and Ethan, and then he turns on his heel and walks down the pathway without a word.

“Ellie!” he calls out, and doesn’t even so much as glance over his shoulder. It’s the first time you’ve heard him speak, and his voice gruffer, a bite to it that didn’t exist before.

You don’t call out after him, don’t trail after him down the street like the girl or Tommy does. But you do stare after him until he turns the corner and disappears from view. The only evidence he’d been standing in front of you at all is the pounding of your heart and a sick feeling in your stomach.

-

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[yuurei20]

So in the second novel, after Leona's overblot does it go into his past or is it just the speech afterwards?

Hello hello! We see a brief interaction between Leona and his brother that is similar to how things played out in the game.

Some places are identical but other places are only in the game, other places are only in the novel, and other places are similar in both but slightly different, so I put the pieces from each together into a puzzle--I hope this helps!

(The EN translation is great but I am posting screenshots from both servers for just in case anyone is curious)

"From the moment I was born, there’s been a boulder on top of me that’s too heavy to move.

From the very instant I came into this world—no, long before that. This weight has always been here.

Once, when I was too young to understand anything, I asked about it like a fool, and the butler looked genuinely troubled.

Not once, throughout all his long years spent serving the royal family, had he ever worn such a perplexed expression. In that moment I realized that I had no right to desire the throne.

Not to boast, but I was a clever, intelligent child. But even so, someone should have been able to understand me, sooner or later.

I will have my chance, too. Someday, someone will see me for who I am. I was so certain, and I worked so hard.

Until I realized it was all for nothing.

'Come on, let's finish up quickly before Leona-sama returns.' 

The servants are whispering as they clean.

‘I can't deal with such a moody child.' 

I can hear them through the door. 

‘He’s probably out there asking twisted questions, troubling his tutor. Crown Prince Falena-sama is so bright and cheerful, so why is his younger brother Leona-sama so sullen?’

‘It’s so troublesome. And to think a member of our own royal family possesses magic that turns everything to sand...'

‘Both of you, will you stop with that! What will happen if someone overhears you.’

Nothing. That’s how I want to respond, with a laugh. If I were to open this door, step inside, and show them this ‘terrifying power,’ I wonder what their faces would look like.

Of course, I would never do that. 

I used to have them reprimanded, indiscriminately, for being so ill-mannered, but by this point I had stopped. Because I had realized that it will never end.

Unique magic that is inherited at birth has nothing to do with the person’s will, but humans wrapped up in their own superstitions are ignorant to common sense.

Or maybe they think this is a power that I desired, and fought to obtain. Either way, they are not worth dealing with. I dislike hassles. And I hate doing things that have no point.

And yet, I still find myself thinking.

I bet that if I were the Crown Prince, this is what everyone would have said: ‘A promising mage with strong magical power? He is so thoughtful, composed, and completely different from his carefree younger brother.’

I knew thinking about it was pointless, but I couldn't stop. And I started to hate myself for it.

The hope I had been clinging to finally disappeared with the birth of my brother's son.

'Leona! Why weren’t you at today’s ceremony?'

My older brother was so polite as to confront me directly with reality.

‘Ceremony? Ah, you mean the party you threw to parade your child around in front of the nation? Yeah, sorry about that. I ended up going back to sleep.’

‘Such a lazy…the presentation of a future king to the citizens is an important day.’

‘Certainly. An important, joyous day. Since it’s the same day that the despised second prince’s only chance to inherit the throne disappears. Everyone in town and throughout the palace must be undoubtedly relieved.’

Even if both my father and my brother were to die, I cannot become king. The throne is a hopeless prospect. And he knows. He knows that I have longed for the day I would succeed to the throne since I was a child.

And still he believes that it is only natural that I would celebrate the birth of his son.

I cannot bear the kindness of someone so stupid.

‘Do not say it like that!’ 

If you can make such a pained expression as you speak, why don’t you hand over the throne? That glory that you’ve had since you were born without struggling a day in your life.

‘Being born first must be nice. You spend every day singing and lazing around, and become king.’

He furrows his brows, looking sad, as if preparing to counsel me.

‘Leona…you may never be king, but you are still wise. There is so much you could do for this country.’

For this country. What a cruel, detestable thing to say.

‘And? You’re telling me that, for this country, I should serve you obediently? You have some nerve, saying something like that while trying to be all chummy!’

‘That’s not what I mean! You cannot let that power of yours rot away, unused.’

‘And maybe if this country selected its kings on the basis of intelligence, I’d be motivated to do something with it.’

If I have to talk to this naiive man any longer I might go insane. Just before I left the library I turned to him, and smiled.

‘Congratulations, Falena-sama. I sincerely rejoice in the birth of a new sun…surely the future of the kingdom of Sunset Savanna is incredibly bright.’

Without waiting for a response, I slammed the door shut.

No matter how hard I study, no matter how powerful the magic I become capable of commanding, it will never be acknowledged that I am superior to my brother, and I will never become king. Why do I have to endure such thoughts, just because I was born a few years too late? 

Simply because I was born in the wrong order, everything I do is dismissed; nothing is even acknowledged.

Why did I have to be born second? Why will I never get to be first? Why. Why. Why. 

—Life truly is unfair."

(This connects directly to here!)