#If it weren't for the other person neither would've gotten out of there

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

Blorbo from my brain. I'd so go for a drink with him. And I don't even drink

[gravestrain]

walked in and dream came trued it for ya (nh13)

happy summer fic exchange @nol-pat! I hope you love this, my goal was to write a fun, lighthearted, Euro summer fic and I hope that translates into my writing. thank you as always, Demi for hosting this event for our community. @wyattjohnston. title from espresso by Sabrina carpenter :)

This is 1.8k words of pure fluff, strangers to lovers, I tried my best to make this a gender neutral reader so that it's safe for all to read.

You weren't sure that you ever imagined a trip like this.

One of your best friends was getting married to the love of her life, and when she asked you to be one of her bridesmaids, of course, you said yes. When you met Lucy in middle school, you couldn't say you thought that the two of you would be in each other's weddings. The "friendship" started off rocky, with Lucy holding hands with your boyfriend during science lab right in front of you. Lucy however, had no idea he was your boyfriend, and when she found out, she pushed him over and immediately coined you two as best friends. You were apprehensive at first of her outward nature, but soon found out the two of you made a perfect pair.

When Lucy decided to go to NYU for college, you staying closer to your home, neither of you could've imagined that she would've met the love of her life weeks in to her freshman year. Or that the love of her life would just so happen to be New Jersey Devils defenseman John Marino.

John was in his first season with the Devils when Lucy met him at a bar downtown, and the two of them clicked immediately. The two had been dating for a few years when John proposed. A few months later, John was traded to Utah, taking your best friend with him.

Since John's first full season in Utah, you had only seen Lucy once. When Lucy let it slip to John one night that her dream was to get married in Italy, a long lost dream that had gotten lost amongst the piles of student loans and outlandish New York rent fees, John jumped through every hoop to make it happen, and managed to get it all pulled together in a year. This all led you to here, in beautiful Lake Como, clutching your bags at the arrival gate feeling like a fish out of water.

To her credit, Lucy met you at the gate, the two of you embracing in a hug that was so needed after the long months you spent apart. "I missed you so much! I can't believe you're here!" She exclaimed, squeezing you tightly. "I can't believe it either! And I can't believe John paid for my flight," you grumbled in an attempt to hide how guilty you felt. When Lucy told you her and John were to be married in Italy, it took only seconds of her observing the horrified and disappointed look on your face until her and John decided to fund the trip. Lucy paid her share, working as a nurse practitioner now based in Utah, and the two of them didn't flinch before booking your trip. Lucy said it would be "absolutely foolish" to get married without you by her side as one of her bridesmaids. The title of maid of honor was always reserved for her sister, you coming in as a close second.

"Oh! And I have to tell you, I paired you up with Johnny's gorgeous teammate. He's foreign, single, and not to mention, he's the captain." Lucy squealed as you walked out to the rental car, your eyes bugging out. "Oh I'm googling him immediately," you giggled.

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The group of wedding party members arrived a few days early to spend some time in Italy exploring the beautiful country before the wedding duties begun. All Lucy informed you of was that you were going to be boating around the water and having lunch at a waterfront restaurant. As you got ready in what you thought was most appropriate for the occasion, your mind drifted to the man you saw on your phone screen yesterday.

When you found Nico on social media, you couldn't believe that Lucy had paired you two together for the wedding festivities. Nico was absolutely stunning. You never felt like a particularly shy person, but you found yourself rehearsing potential conversations, feeling like nothing could prepare you for any sort of interaction you had with the Swiss center man.

When you walked into the lobby of the resort, meeting the rest of the bridesmaids, they all squealed when they saw you, ready for the day on the boat. "Oh my god! You look incredible!" Daphne, Lucy's college roommate squealed, pulling you into a hug, which you had learned was her signature greeting. "Nico isn't gonna know what hit him!" Another bridesmaid had yelled. You shook your head laughing. You knew that Lucy had made it out to seem like you were forlorn, but the truth was that Lucy hated your ex so much that she was determined to set you up right after the breakup. What you felt was enough time to cope with the breakup had added an extra year onto that time, and it was safe to say you were ready to get back in to dating.

When you met the happy couple and the groomsmen at the boat, you weren't sure what to expect. But you can safely say you definitely were not expecting a party yacht, with blaring music, and men who already looked like they had downed a few bottles of champagne. After the boys moaned and groaned about your "late arrival" of 10 minutes, the boat set off.

You snuck away from the hustle and bustle momentarily to watch the views, seated towards the water with your drink of choice, when the man you had been thinking about for the last 24 hours came to greet you. "Y/N?" he asked hesitantly, almost like he wasn't completely convinced it was you. "That's me!" you smiled at him, and when you turned and made eye contact with his smiling face, little did you know the two of you melted like butter in the hot summer sun.

"Wow," he muttered out loud, much to his dismay. Sensing his nerves, you stood up to shake his hand. "Hi! Nice to finally meet you, Nico. I understand we're going to be walking down the aisle together?" you asked with a smile. He took your hand with a shake, albeit a bit clammy, and put his other hand on your forearm, causing goosebumps to arise. You were suddenly grateful for your decision to wear your favorite swimming suit, the one you felt most confident in. You considered leaving it until after the wedding, but no better time than the present.

"Yeah, we are. Have you been in a wedding before?" You asked him with a smile, causing Nico's cheeks to turn pink. "I've been in two weddings before. Best man in one and a groomsman in the other. What about you?" He asked you, trying not to show his nerves. "I've never been in one. I haven't been to many weddings, this is all very new to me." You smiled at him, grateful that you would have his smiling face next to you throughout this journey. You didn't know hardly anyone here, and before you met the other bridesmaids, you were starting to realize how nervous you really were. But as you met the other bridesmaids, the wives and girlfriends of John's teammates past and present, and of course, Nico, you felt much more comfortable with the fact that you had never traveled outside of the country, had never been in a wedding before, and knew virtually no one outside of the bride and groom.

"Hopefully I can keep you good company, make your first wedding very memorable for you." Nico mentioned cheekily, the same blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. "I hope so."

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You never doubted that Nico would make the wedding and your trip memorable, but you were surprised at the amount of chivalry he was pulling out. You were so nervous to impress him, but little did you know, Nico had been thinking about you constantly since you met on the boat. Not to mention he spent the rest of the time on the yacht keeping you company, getting you refills of your favorite drink, and bringing you water when the July Italian sun proved to be as bright and as scorching as you had imagined.

You were getting ready with the other bridesmaids, putting on another coat of mascara when you heard a knock on the door. You were the only one doing your makeup at the time, and after a quick scope around the room to make sure none of the girls who were changing were gonna flash the visitor at the door, you opened the door.

A pleasant surprise greeted you: Nico with a bouquet of flowers, looking breathtaking in his soft grey groomsman suit. "These are for you," he mumbled nervously, pushing them towards you with that blush on his cheeks that was becoming very familiar to you. "Thank you, these are gorgeous!" You smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek as a sign of gratitude. Nico had no idea how he was standing on his own two feet at that point. In just a few short days, you had turned him into putty in your hands. He found himself wondering how far the travel would be from where you lived to Newark when the season started.

He bid you a goodbye, the both of you going to finish off getting ready for the wedding and helping the bride and groom respectively to get ready for the walk down the aisle.

When you met Nico at the end of the aisle, the two of you felt your heart stop. And when Nico continued to make eye contact with you during the ceremony, keeping a soft hand on your back throughout the reception, and when the two of you finally joined each other at the end of the night for a dance, you melted into his arms, Nico feeling so lucky to have been paired with you. He felt himself falling hard for you, and you felt the same way.

"Can I convince you to make a trip to Jersey this season? I know Lucy and Johnny aren't there anymore, but I'd like to think you have another reason to come back." Nico asked with his head resting against the top of your head. "Do I?" you teased, causing Nico to laugh. "I'm kidding, I'd love to." When you looked up at him after confirming his plans, seeing the sparkling look in his eye, you only had one more thing to do. The two of you felt the magnetic pull towards each other, your lips finally touching, and you both knew that the two of you were smitten. As Nico rested his hand on your waist and pulled away, seeing John and Lucy smiling at you, everyone had a feeling the four of you would soon find yourself in a similar situation a few years down the road.

[avatar-anna]

Please Anna 😭 Write a part 2 of ice hockey harry and skater YN (possibly longer if you cank)

the part two to my hockey harry fic that only a couple people asked for. enjoy!

You knew you shouldn't have been jealous, you were the one who put all these strict rules in place about keeping the arrangement you had with Harry from being anything more than it was. Harry followed along of course, but it always felt like he was just amusing you, like he knew something you didn't.

But despite how good he made you feel, he still infuriated you. He was still the cocky asshole who considered himself the best athlete on campus. And you'd made such a big showing of being indifferent to him, of not being charmed by him that you couldn't see him as anything more than a good fuck. You wouldn't.

So why did seeing him flirt with someone else make your blood boil all of a sudden?

You'd seen Harry at parties before. Sometimes he would sneak you away to a bathroom with a lock on it or a room no one would enter, but in most cases you both minded your business, sometimes sharing snarky remarks if your paths crossed. Tonight was the same, though when your eye snagged on him and some girl that looked nothing like you, you gripped your plastic cup a little harder than usual.

You and Harry weren't dating each other, but you were also keenly aware of the fact that neither of you went out or hooked up with anyone else. You told yourself that it was to reduce the risk of STIs, but did Harry want to explore other options? Were you not giving him enough satisfaction? Why was he leaning in so close to her?

Then, almost as if he could sense you looking at him, Harry turned and met your gaze. His brow raised the slightest bit as if to say, Your move.

He was doing this on purpose. Harry was intentionally flirting with some random girl to get a reaction out of you, to see what exactly that reaction would be. He probably wanted you to storm over there and get between him and the girl, and...What? Claim him? Make sure everyone at this party knew Harry wasn't as available as people thought?

Well, you were not going to do that.

The smart thing to do would've been to just ignore him, to not play his little game at all. But intelligence and good sense seemed to fly out the window when Harry Styles was involved.

You didn't go over to Harry, though. You stalked off in search of more alcohol and your friends. The bass of some rap song pounded through the speakers as you pushed past people. You found yourself in the next room over, searching for a place to sit and people watch.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Turning, you saw someone approach, and your eyes lit up, but only because of the opportunity that was presented to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry enter the room holding hands with that girl. Smiling to yourself, you looked up at the guy in front of you. "Hey, Evan. We have metaphysics together, right?"

Evan and Harry were virtually opposites. Similar on paper, but completely different otherwise. He played baseball, was the team captain, and was handsome, so so handsome. But he was sweet too. He didn't strut around or make crude remarks. Evan had a quiet, understated kind of confidence. He was the one you should've gotten all flustered around.

"Yeah. I saw you and I thought I'd say hi. I don't normally see you at parties."

You weren't the kind of person who flirting came naturally to, but you did your best. "Yeah, I came with my friends, but I'm glad I ran into you."

Evan's eyes glanced down to his arm when you placed your hand on it. Unable to help yourself, you glanced to your left. You fought the smile that crept on your face when you caught Harry shooting daggers at you. Before he noticed you noticing him, you turned back to the boy in front of you.

"Really?"

You nodded. "I mean, like you said, we have a class, we sit next to each other, but we've hardly said two words to each other."

His eyes squinted as he grinned, then bent down to whisper in your ear. "Or are you glad that someone as good-looking as me is here to make Styles over there jealous?"

Well, shit. "I'm sorry," you said, a blush forming on your cheeks. "He's just being an ass, and I thought I would—I don't even like him, but he's such an asshole—"

"You mentioned that," Evan said, but for some reason, he didn't seem to be mad at being used. "I don't really care what you think of the guy, but I'm always up for a bit of light teasing."

"Really? What's in it for you?" you asked. This was not the reaction you were expecting.

"Help with studying for the midterm? I'm not gonna lie, I'm totally lost in that class."

You thought about it for a moment. Harry really wasn't worth going to all this trouble for, right? With another glance out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry completely ignoring whoever it was he'd been flirting with to piss you off, and that was satisfying to say the least.

"I...I don't like him like that," you said. You felt like you had to say it.

"No judgment here," Evan said, raising his hands in mock defense. "I just need to pass an exam. I'd technically be using you just as much if you think about it."

"Five minutes, ten tops, and I'll help you study for the test," you decided. "I don't like him, but I like the idea of ruffling his feathers."

Evan grinned. "Well then. Better make 'em count."

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Harry was fuming, you could tell. It shouldn't have brought you so much satisfaction, but it did. He just always got under your skin all the time with his teasing and heckling during practice, it was nice to be on the other side of it.

And you'd made a friend out of Evan. To everyone at the party, it looked like you and Evan were flirting heavily with his arm draped over your shoulder and the casual touches between the two of you, but you talked about your class mostly. And the sports you played, but mostly school. It turned out you were both kind of lost in class and were going to need to clock a lot of hours in the library if you were going to pass the upcoming midterm.

And Harry was there in your periphery, looming in the corner of the room you were in while you talked to Evan. You told yourself he was doing this to himself because if he'd just come over, he'd realize it was all a ruse.

When he finally did, you and Evan were sitting on a couch, your legs were across his lap while he told you about some tournament the baseball team had next weekend. "You should come," he said. "There's food and music, it's a big party, really. The baseball team knows how to have a good time. So if you ever find yourself out of that little ice rink of yours—"

"She has plans already. Thanks."

You tipped your head back to see Harry standing over you and Evan. His arms were crossed and there was an adorable little scowl on his face. You knew he was pissed, but it was cute because he was so jealous.

"I do?"

Harry just glowered down at you, and you stared right back, your arms crossed just like his were.

"I'm gonna—I think I see some friends over there."

Evan gently put your feet back on the ground and stood up. He clapped Harry on the back the way all guys did as they sized each other up, which you found both ridiculous and amusing. You quietly waved goodbye to your new friend, then looked back to Harry, brows raised the same way he'd done to you a little bit ago.

"Can I help you?"

Muttering under his breath, Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet, dragging you off until he found an empty room, some office that was converted into a room with a pool table, a dart board, and a bunch of other games. Before you could say a word, his hands were on your hips and lifting you up onto the pool table. He put his hands in your hair, gripping the back of your head harshly as he pulled you to him for a searing kiss.

You almost didn't want to kiss him back, just out of spite, but there was just something about Harry that got to you. Even when you were training and he was teasing you from outside the rink and you were pretending you hated it, hated him, you felt like you had a magnet in your navel dragging you to him against your will. Harry drove you insane, and on principle, you should have hated him. He was cocky, arrogant, had an ego the size of Texas, and yet...

Your legs wrapped around his waist and drew him closer to you. His grip on your waist was hard, almost painful, but it felt good too, deliriously so.

"Harry—I want—Can we—"

"I don't really care about what you want," he seethed, un buttoning the cropped sweater you were wearing. "What the hell do you think you're doing out there, huh?"

You quickly put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back a bit. "Me? You started it! And last time I checked, we weren't exclusive."

"Bullshit! We—" he stopped and stepped away, not meeting your gaze. Looking at him, you realized he was really hurt by this. Angry, for sure, but it felt like he was using it to mask something more.

"Harry, we—we agreed that this was just—"

"Just sex, I know. I know," Harry said, stepping back. "I shouldn't have flirted with that girl tonight. I was just hoping—I mean, I—I thought you would react differently, I guess. My mistake."

You were left speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You didn't know what to say, you thought you and Harry were on the same page.

As you continued to struggle for words, Harry stepped away from you even more. "I, um, I know what we agreed on at the start of all this, and I'm—I'm sorry, but I can't do it anymore."

"Harry—"

"No, it's my fault. You held up your end, I couldn't hold up mine. I'll leave you to get to know that guy. On the baseball team, right? I've met him a few times. He seem like a nice guy."

Harry left soon after that, his head bowed. You were still frozen, perhaps in shock, sweater still half unbuttoned.

You'd never seen Harry...like that before. Things were always playful between the two of you, and you were always purposely pushing each other's buttons. You thought that was what was happening tonight, but apparently you'd misread the whole situation.

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"You're staring."

You jolted in your seat at the dining hall, looking away from Harry and his friends and down at your barely-eaten sandwich. "I wasn't."

"You were," Kate said. "It's okay to be upset, you know."

You looked at your friend, trying to act confused but couldn't muster the energy. "How did you—"

"You think I didn't notice when you were in such high spirits out of seemingly nowhere? And then the moping since last week? Give me some credit," she said, a small grin on her face. "So, did you like him?"

Looking down at your sandwich, you said, "It wasn't like that, we were just—" You sighed. "It wasn't like that."

Kate snorted, which made you look up at her. She was looking at you amusingly, like she was in on a joke that you weren't. "What?" you asked.

"It's okay to have feelings for him."

"I don't," you insisted, but even to you it sounded like you were only trying to convince yourself.

"What happened between you two?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you said.

Standing up from the table, you took your lunch and walked over to the trash cans to throw out the sandwich. Kate followed, but didn't say anything. As you left the dining hall, you had to pass the table Harry and his friends. The grip on your backpack tightened, preparing yourself for the unavoidable interaction. You hadn't seen Harry since the party. He didn't come by the rink while you practiced anymore, and you never saw him when your training sessions overlapped. Sometimes you wondered if he went back to taking the bus, and in those moments, you missed him the most, if only because you didn't know if he was safe or not.

He was avoiding you, you could tell, but you didn't really know what to say to him if you were given the chance. He made it clear that he had feelings for you, and you...Well, you—

"Kate! Off to class?"

Zayn, Kate's boyfriend and Harry's teammate, smiled as she walked by. You half expected her to want the two of you to sit with him and Harry and their friends, but she didn't. Apparently because she knew you and Harry had had a falling out.

"Nope," Kate said. "Y/n and I are both done for the day, so we're gonna go shopping at the mall a couple towns over. Wanna join?"

Shooting your friend a look, you elbowed her and tried to tell her that was a terrible idea. Zayn didn't think so, though, and agreed. "H, you coming?"

"Uh..."

"Great. I think my car will fit all of us. Meet us within the next half hour?" Kate asked, dragging you away shortly after. When you were out of the dining hall, you smacked her arm.

"What the hell?"

"He likes you, Y/n. And you clearly feel something for him. What the hell is wrong with that?" she asked you, walking down the path that would lead to the dorms. "He's, you know, he's Harry, and he's a cocky bastard, but he's harmless. Kinda sweet in that goofy, lovable idiot kind of way."

"I know."

Kate pinned you with a look. "Did he do something? Did he say something that made you hate him, or—"

"Nothing. He didn't do anything. We just—We had an agreement, and he—"

"Aw, and you were so good he fell for you," she cooed, laughing when you frowned at her. "Do you like him?"

You frowned at her. "What?"

"Do you like him like that too?" she asked again, hands on her hips and everything.

"I—It doesn't matter. He probably hates me now anyway," you told her with a shake of her head.

Eyes lit up, she looped your arms through hers and began walking again. "We'll see about that."

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Walking around a mall with Harry was not your idea of a good time.

Almost five minutes into the trip, Kate and Zayn disappeared with the rest of the group you came with, leaving you and Harry alone to walk awkwardly side by side. Neither of you said anything, just walked aimlessly past store after store. You were itching to say something, anything, to break the obvious tension between the two of you, but you couldn't come up with anything to say. You and Harry were never the types to have small talk, and now certainly didn't feel like the time to start.

So you snuck glances at him instead. You peeked at him, at the same baseball cap that he always wore, the same scuffed up pair of sneakers, the sleeves of his shirt that clung to his arm tightly, the spot just below his collar where his skin was a tiny bit paler because it didn't see as much sun. You took note of all the little things you took for granted when you had the luxury of seeing him all the time. You wondered if he was doing the same when you looked away.

"I...I'm sorry that Kate forced your hand," you finally managed to say. "I didn't know she was going to spring that on you and Zayn. I'm probably the last person you want to hang out with right now."

"It's fine," he said, still not looking over at you. You understood why, of course, but you found yourself really wanting him to look at you.

"And I'm—I'm sorry about that night at the party. You...You took me by surprise, that's all."

Harry chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You don't have to try and make me feel better about it, Y/n. I already told you it's fine. You're off the hook."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a family restroom. He protested as you locked the door, and for a moment there was some light pushing and slapping of hands between the two of you, but you finally managed to shush him and put your hand up so you could collect your thoughts.

"I—I don't want a nice guy."

"What?"

You paced the small bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest. "At the party, you said Evan was a nice guy, and he is, he's very sweet—"

"Y/n, I really don't care about what kind of guy Evan is—"

"Will you shut up?" you interrupted. Harry raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't say anything. Your hands were shaking, but you took a deep breath and continued. "He's nice, but I don't want a nice guy. I want—I want...you."

Harry was quiet for a moment, leaning against the bathroom door. His head was bent, but when he lifted it, he had a small grin on his face. "Wow, that was some speech. You really know how to make a guy feel good."

"Yeah, well, you're no poet, either," you grumbled, crossing your arms.

"Um, no. Nuh-uh. That's not how this is gonna go," he said, stepping closer to you. "You are apologizing to me. That doesn't involve you insulting me. I am nice, by the way. So you'll have to apologize for that too."

"Oh please. We're both assholes," you muttered. You kicked at nothing on the tile floor, waiting for your nerves to settle. You'd never been all that good with words, which was why you loved skating. You could express yourself through each performance much easier than talking. "I'm confessing, not apologizing. There's a difference."

"Really?" he asked, stepping closer, settling his hand on your hip. Your breath hitched, and Harry's grin widened when he heard it. "Because I'm not taking you on a date until you apologize."

"A date? I didn't say anything about a—"

"You'll want to. Once I tell you all about it," he said, pulling you straight to his chest. Your hands itched to touch him, but you kept them at your side. You knew Harry pretty much had all the power, but a proud part of you was still hanging on, not giving in. "And you're definitely not getting into bed with me until we go on a date. I know you're practically aching for it. You're just too stubborn to do something about it."

"Excuse me? You—"

"You said you didn't want nice, baby. I can be that for you, and so much more." Harry leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You just have to say yes."

"Fine. Yes, now will you—"

"No. Like you mean it."

Your brows furrowed even more, but Harry was in your space for the first time in a week. He was grinning and making your heart leap, and if you took two seconds to think about it, a date did sound nice. Going to his games in his jersey and him watching you perform, holding hands, study dates, kissing him whenever you felt like it.

"I...I hated seeing you with that girl. I was practically seeing red," you said, hooking a finger in the belt loop of his jeans.

"Yeah?"

"I want to sit on your lap at parties, I want to be your partner at beer pong, I want you to make sure I make it home safe at the end of the night and make sure I get my shoes off before going to sleep," you said, tilting your head up at him. "I want to wear your jersey at your games so that those girls who always come to your games know to back the fuck off. That good enough for you?"

Harry caressed the side of your face and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. "I mean, that wasn't really an apology, but—"

"Oh shut up."

You leaned up and kissed him, pushing him backward until his back was against the door of the bathroom. Harry tried to put his hands on your waist, but you pinned them down, kissing him harder. You knew he definitely could've resisted, but he wasn't, he was letting you do your thing.

It had only been a week, but you'd missed him. You missed gripping your fingers in his hair and tasting his skin and watching him react to the faintest touches. And yes, you missed the in-between moments too. You didn't talk much to each other much, but you liked waking up next to him and hearing him mumble in his sleep. You liked how Harry spooned you right after sex and always had a fresh towel for you to shower with, and how he always gave you space on the bed when you asked for it. You liked how gentle he was with you when he went a little rougher than usual in bed and how even though you were always exchanging jabs and casual insults, he always had the gentlest voice when he cleaned you up and brought you back down from the cloud you were drifting away on. You liked how he randomly kissed the birthmark on your rib cage and how he pushed you harder than anyone else did when you were training. You liked how he understood how competitive you were, that he did because he was just as dedicated an athlete as you were.

You could have that again, and so much more, just like he said.

"This is my apology," you said, kissing him while undoing his belt buckle. "I'm gonna have bruises on my knee for days, and my throat is gonna be sore, but you're not gonna tease me about it because this is my grand apology, got it?"

"Well, I don't know if I couldn't help myself from one little joke."

"I will walk out this door and leave you hard and alone," you said, letting go of him.

Harry raised his hands up, surrendering. "Okay, okay, shutting up. I'll behave, I promise. I could get used to these kinds of apologies."

Grinning, you got back to unbuckling Harry's belt. You kissed him once on the lips before sinking to your knees, the cold tile biting your skin.

You could get used to these kinds of apologies too.

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"God, Harry is so hot."

"I know. The things I would do if I had a moment alone with him."

"I heard he has a girlfriend now."

"So? He's not married. That's fair game to me as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh my God, Monique. You're terrible!"

"Mm. I just know what I want," the girl, Monique, shrugged, tying her hair back with a clip. "And I mean, he'll want it too. You'll see."

If fake flirting when you technically weren't together had driven you crazy, then listening to some girl you didn't know talk about your boyfriend like he was hers for the taking? Your blood was boiling.

You glared at the girl and her friend standing a couple feet in front of you, crossing your arms and tapping your foot rapidly. Harry was supposed to come out of the locker room any minute now, but now it felt like he was taking his sweet time while you listened to Monique and her friend talk about stealing your boyfriend. "Where the hell is he?" you muttered, pulling your phone out to text him.

A minute later, and the doors to the locker room opened, all the members of the school's hockey team flooding out. You strained your neck looking for Harry, not caring if that made you look desperate. The minute you saw him, you were going to make it clear to Monique that she would not be getting what she wanted this time.

He spotted you first, green eyes lighting up when he saw you waiting for him. He was dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a dark gray hoodie, his baseball cap fitted on his head like it always was. There was a flash of confusion when he saw your pissed off demeanor, but it was wiped away when he saw you rush over to him.

"Hey, good game, right? Did you see when I—mmph."

You kissed him, perhaps with more force than was probably necessary. Harry didn't seem to mind, though. He held your face with one hand and rested the other on your lower back. He tasted like mint, just like he always did after a game. Apparently brushing his teeth was just as important as showering once he got off the ice. His perspective confused you, but you didn't question it.

"While I love the enthusiasm for our win today," he mumbled, nipping your bottom lip. "It is out of the ordinary. You hardly ever know what's going on during my games."

"I'm learning," you said. Harry pinned you with a stare, like he was waiting for you to say more. Finally scoffing, you told him, "Fine. Those girls over there seem to think that you might have a wandering eye. I'm letting them know you don't."

"Me? Never," he agreed. Harry pulled back enough to kiss the tips of your fingers. His hair was still damp and extra curly around his face. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, but the rest of him was warm, solid as you wrapped your arms around him. "But since we're both suckers for showing each other off, should we go to the party tonight or just head back to your place? Or mine. I'm good with either."

"Mm...No party tonight," you said. "Dinner and back to my place. That girl was a little too smug for my liking."

Harry took your hand and walked to the parking with you. As you passed Monique and her friend, you looked over at them and gave Monique a pointed look over your shoulder. She shot you a dirty glare, which only made you smile. Harry, who was fully aware of everything taking place, pinched your side and kissed the top of your head.

"Careful there, love. People might think you actually like me," he said, and you didn't have to look at him to know his grin was smug.

"Good."

He slung his arm over your shoulders, his hand still laced with yours until he had to put his gear in the trunk. You wrinkled your nose when you caught a whiff of the smell and immediately went for the driver's seat so you could be as far away from it as possible.

"Oh now you don't want to be anywhere near me," Harry said, pulling you back to his chest by the waist.

"You're lucky I let your shit stink up my car. That should tell you everything you need to know about my feelings," you said, giggling as he peppered the back of your neck with sloppy kisses. "Come on, Harry, I'm hungry. Let's go."

Harry stayed exactly where he was. "It's not like your stuff smells any better. Sweaty, smelly gear is sweaty, smelly gear. It's all the same," he mumbled.

"I wash my gear regularly and keep disinfectants in my bag," you said. "I thought I told you to get some."

"I'll get on it. Kiss?"

You turned around and frowned at him. "Promise?"

"Are we really talking about this right now? What happened to being wildly jealous and kissing in front of my adoring fans?"

"Bite me."

"Gladly. But not in the parking lot, so let's get out of here, yeah?"

"You're the one pinning my ass to your crotch like a desperate fool—"

"Car. Now, please," Harry said. When you turned around to face him, his usual cocky grin was back on his face, dimples on display and eyes squinting with glee. Now that you could take the time and allow yourself, you realized you thought that smile was endearing. Too sure of himself it made you want to smack him, but endearing too.

"Menace," you muttered, but got behind the wheel anyway.

"I think that's what you like best about me," he called as he shut the trunk and came around to the passenger seat.

"Yeah," you sighed. "I think you might be right."

[ikamigami]

I feel really terrible for Sun, always have but especially now, I mean think about it, ever since the day he came online it has been an unpleasant ride Any one of the things that has happened to him would break most people, like the relentless verbal, emotional, mental, and occasionally physical abuse from Old Moon both before and after separation, then Eclipse came along and became another source of pain along with constantly robbing Sun of his bodily autonomy(especially since unlike Moon he wasn't locked to only coming out in the dark), the complete lack of friendship and care from the other animatronics, save for Monty and sometimes Puppet who think he's a joke, Foxy who's just plain selfish and tries dumping his crap on people, Roxanne who just tossed him out, Golden Freddy who thinks Sun is not worth much, Bloodmoon being an active threat and source of guilt after being killed, the Creator just being a pure existential menace, getting locked inside a tiny box where he couldn't even move next to a mirror for who knows how long by Moon, the October takeover, July 16th, constantly being teleported to perilous dimensions on a whim, dimensional threats constantly coming out of the portal Moon made on a whim, then Moon's death, which he blames himself for, even though I'd argue it wasn't 100% his fault considering Eclipse was going to impale him with a sword and neither Golden Freddy or Old Moon bothered to teach him how to control his magic so he wouldn't have an outburst, and Golden didn't supervise him when Sun had to put the runes down since Sun had only one shot, Lunar getting blown up, Eclipse getting the star and making everyone hate their guts along with just being threatening by virtue of all the power he now had in his hands, all of the grief and stress...And I know I am missing a lot of other bad things But then...Things started getting better, Earth was kind and patient, New Moon had so much more empathy and integrity and even if it was rocky at the start New Moon just being there and being a decent person helped Sun start to heal even if it was off-screen which doesn't count or at least got a break, Lunar came back and started healing too, Eclipse was finally destroyed, Solar joined in, things started getting brighter, even if his issues weren't fully addressed things were looking better Even when Ruin appeared, the family managed to pull together and seemingly deal with him even if Bloodmoon and Eclipse were revived, which was stress all on its own, yet despite Ruin they managed to pull through and were okay, even when Earth got hurt things bounced back quickly ...Then Solar's death, there was great grief over Solar but it seemed things might be alright, but since then everything has gotten exponentially worse, Moon completely spiraled out of control, broke every promise he made, to so quickly transform into the opposite of who he was, who he promised to be, into someone willing to kill his own family if they get in his way, not even Old Moon dared to actually try and kill his family, or entertain the idea of making a deal with the Creator, in only a matter of a few weeks everything became a nightmare And after all that, being forced by Monty, Foxy, and Puppet to make the choice between effectively lobotomizing/resetting Moon, or killing him, either idea being too horrifying for him to consider, to the point that he's been crying all the time, and now this, having learned Moon almost killed Earth, leaving her half burned and in pain from star radiation for days, with the knowledge that had Puppet not gotten in the way she would've died It makes you wonder if he thinks anything will ever get better, or if this is all life is, a cycle of pain, isolation, and betrayal, yet the fact that he has not completely lost it, that he continues to try to love and do good despite everything... I hope things will turn out okay

Well said 👏

I don't need to add anything 🥹

Thank you, dear anon 💗

I also hope things will get better but I think that they'll go even worse before that.. after all Sun lost Moon once again.. I can't see him bouncing back from that too quickly.. 😔

But I'm sure that after the darkest of nights there will be the brightest sunset.. a new day.. and things will get better ^^

[stratossphere]

the basement | v.v

you’re alone in the basement for the night. or so you think.

warnings: smut, masturbation, mutual masturbation, cum eating, basically porn without plot

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife (lmk if you want to be added!)

— —

Today had been...a day. Everyone had been drinking all day (as to be expected), you’d driven three hours up to some fancy-ass skatepark to watch and film Bam skating (during which you’d been trapped between Ville and Raab for the entire trip), and then you’d come back and showed Ville the American dream sport of drag racing.

So, because of this, everyone was passed out drunk in various parts of the Margera house by the time it hit a crisp 12 at night. However, you were still awake, and for several reasons.

You and Ville had been…playing at something…for a while now. You knew he thought you were attractive, and you could barely tear your eyes away from him every time he was anywhere near you. However, neither of you had yet to make a move, and Ville was clearly playing a game of who could fold first.

He had been fucking with you all day. Touching way more than what he needed to every time someone wasn't looking, holding your gaze at every chance he got with that stare that made you feel like he was eating you alive, and speaking the most suggestive phrases known to man at you all day had left you pent up and expecting him to get you alone at some point during the night.

But he never had. You had no idea where he had even ended up, because you were completely alone in the basement despite that being where he was staying, so you assumed he had just found a home in Bam's bed or something (which was what had happened the night before). Meaning, in turn, you were left completely alone and about as horny as a person could physically get while you tried to will yourself to go to sleep.

But, that wasn't working, and instead you were just left overheated and underworked. You considered going to find Ville, because you knew you would probably get what you wanted from him based on his behavior throughout the day, but that would've drawn attention to you from everyone else upstairs had anyone still been awake, so you decided against that idea.

And, instead, resorted to one that wasn't exactly your most admirable moment, but one that needed to happen in order for you to refrain from being up all night.

So there you were, in the middle of Bam's basement with some old western that was playing on one of the channels going for noise, with your hand down your pants under the blanket you were wrapped in. If Ville wanted to fuck around and never find out, you weren’t exactly going to sit for a few more days and wait on him.

You finally felt your overly-frenzied nerves settle when you touched your fingers to your clit, taking a deep breath to allow yourself to relax due to the fact that you were, in fact, spread out on your friend's couch in a basement that didn't exactly have any privacy from anyone that could very likely come downstairs if they didn't like sleeping on the living room floor.

You couldn't help but imagine Ville. Ever since you’d first met him, you hadn't been able to get him off your mind for more than a few seconds at a time. The intimidating darkness of his eyes, his low voice, the way he looked when he smoked...everything. You were already worked up from when he'd gotten out of the car on your side and had put his hand right between your legs to hold himself up, and thoughts of him fucking you into oblivion weren't making it much better.

You spread your legs a little wider, one knee pushed against the back of the couch and then other hanging off the side as you rubbed your clit languidly to the thought of Ville fucking balls-deep inside of you. The back of your free hand was pressed tightly against your lips just in case, and although a vibrator would've been much more effective in getting you off quickly when you were trying to be discrete, going manual wasn't taking very long either considering how long you’d been itching for a release after being at the mercy of Ville's games all day.

However, that was quickly interrupted when your eyes opened momentarily only to see Ville walking around the back of the fucking couch. You had never moved so fast in your life as you ripped your hand away and let your knees drop, watching him with wide eyes. He wasn't acting like he had even realized you were there, and after a second of him pausing to stare at the TV, you relaxed a little after remembering how drunk he'd been a couple of hours ago. So there was a very low chance that he’d even noticed what you’d been doing. Thank fucking god.

"Jesus Christ. You scared the shit out of me." You muttered as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, letting out a slight sigh of disappointment at having to stop so close to your climax. Timing was impeccably horrible, as always. Ville barely glanced back at you where he was still standing in front of the TV.

"Why are you down here? Everyone else is upstairs." He finally turned to face you, and you were surprised to see that drunken glaze in his eyes was almost completely gone. He continued to shock you with how easily he seemed to bounce back compared to the rest of you. It was unbelievable.

"I didn't want to sleep on a floor. Plus, I'm not tired." You supplied simply, rolling over onto your side so that you could watch him sit down on the couch next to you. And when you said next you, you meant right next to you. He sat down so close that you could've taken your head off of your pillow where you were laying on the long part of the couch and set it right on his thigh. If only he knew you’d just been rubbing one out to the thought of him. "I thought you were going to be passed out by now."

"Figured I'd come down here so that I didn't have to share a bed with Bam." He was looking right down at you, and you could feel guilt swirling in your stomach where your pants were still pushed down low on your hips from what you’d been doing only a couple minutes before. "Didn't know I'd have company."

"Well, I'm watching this until I pass out, so you're welcome to join me." Really you wanted him to join you under the blanket and do things completely unrelated to whatever garbage was playing on the TV, but despite what people said, you did have some couth.

"Turn something better on. This is garbage." Ville clearly settled in then, manspreading so far that his knee knocked against your arm as he stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it while gesturing at the TV. You had no other option but to use his knee as a leverage point so that you could sit up on your elbow, looking around for the remote that you’d tossed towards the end of the couch when you’d first sat down.

"What would you rather watch?" You huffed as you crawled to the end of the chaise to grab the remote, silently praying that the line of your thong wasn't visible over the waistband of your yoga pants for decency's sake. When you got no response, you glanced back, and he was still staring at you. You swallowed. "Hm?"

"Just something else. Westerns are for sad old men." He muttered, and the look in his eyes told you that your thong very well might've been showing. You could just see a bit of his tongue pulled between his teeth, and he spread his legs a little further while readjusting his hips. Jesus Christ. "You look tense."

Yeah, because you’d left yourself high and dry.

"You're taking up the whole goddamn couch." You lied in place of a valid reason, motioning to where he was spread out like he owned the goddamn place. You wouldn't have been able to lay back down where you’d been without his knee digging into your side. He then held your gaze as he moved over about a fraction of an inch, afterwards motioning to your spot.

"There. Plenty of room." He sounded pleased with himself. You could tell by the way he was talking that he was starting up whatever dumbass game he had been playing throughout the day again. And you didn't think you would be able to handle it again, because you were so horny that you were having trouble focusing on finding something else on TV.

"You pick. Since the choices are so shit." You sighed, handing him the remote as you gave up and just crawled right back over to your spot. This time you stayed sitting, because you felt out of your element lying down where Ville could look at you but you couldn't look at him, and watched as he began to flip through channels so fast you could barely comprehend what he was skipping past.

Part of you was wishing that he had never come downstairs in the first place. You were more sexually frustrated now than how you had started out, and all he was doing was making it worse while he remained focused on the TV without a single care in the world. Thankfully, the cover of your blanket gave you the opportunity to squeeze your thighs together, and you shifted uncomfortably at the same time as you cast a quick glance over at Ville seeing as his attention was focused elsewhere.

On a scale of hotness concerning the men you had had even the slightest chance with, there was no competition that even came near Ville. And, honestly, hot wasn't even really the right word to describe him, because Ville was beautiful. His features were so sharp and distinguished, and the low lighting of the basement made his eyes seem even more shocking where they were lined with two-day-old eyeliner. Mentally, you were praising Bam into the high heavens for introducing you to the most mouth-watering man you had ever laid eyes on in all your years of living.

"A Nightmare Before Christmas! This is a great fucking movie." Ville said with finality before he tossed the remote to the other end of the couch without much thought, a hint of a grin pulling onto his features as the screen settled on the animated scene of Sally making the doctor soup.

You had to force yourself to watch the movie so that you’d stop staring at Ville. You knew he was going to notice if you kept it up, and you also knew that he hadn't really seemed too interested in actually making a move on you tonight considering his attention was now completely off of you. Meaning you were just stuck suffering until he either got bored and left, or fell asleep. And you didn't know if you had a conscience lenient enough to let you stick your hand back down your pants with him unknowingly sitting less than a foot away from you.

After a little while, Ville slid his arm over the back of the couch so close to your head that if you hadn't been forcibly sitting away, it would've been touching you, and then once again...nothing happened. He didn't say a word, and he didn't even glance for a second in your direction. Just watched the movie.

A bit longer after that and you were actually getting into the movie, because Ville was right; it was a great fucking movie. And you were trying your best to distract yourself both from the almost-painful ache between your thighs and the hottest man you’d ever met sitting directly next to you. The only time you allowed yourself to glance over at him was when he grabbed an ashtray off of the couch arm that forced him to reach directly across you. Other than that, nothing.

So, when you heard just the slightest bit of sound from Ville where he had relaxed next to you, you didn't really pay attention to it. The TV was kind of loud, and he'd laughed a couple times since you’d started watching it.

That was, until you heard that same sound again. And then again, but louder. And you quickly realized that what you were hearing was absolutely not a laugh. In fact, it sounded a lot like—

You had never side-eyed someone so fast in your entire life. Yoy didn't turn your head completely in his direction for fear of what you would see, but what you did see almost made your heart drop out of your fucking body.

Ville was in fact letting out tiny, almost inaudible groans, because less than half a foot away from you, he was fully palming himself through his pants. He was so hard that you could completely see the outline of his hard cock through the material, and you choked on the breath that you had been inhaling hard.

He knew. He had to have known what you’d been doing when he'd walked into the room earlier. That thought was confirmed when you looked a little further towards him, still not enough to actually turn your head in his direction, and saw that he was staring right at you.

"...what are you doing?" But you were playing dumb anyway. Mostly because you were so startled that you could feel a shake starting to settle in your fingers, and also because the way he was looking at you felt as if he was burning a hole right through your head. The arm that had been behind you on the couch suddenly slid down onto your shoulders, and then his hand was touching your jaw and forcing you to fully look in his direction.

And watch him rub his cock over his pants with his lip drawn between his teeth.

"Exactly what you were doing when I came down here, darling." Despite the fact that he was currently doing what you couldn't do, his voice was completely, unwaveringly steady, and he looked at you with a knowing gleam in his eye as he glanced downwards where your thighs were still pressed together (more so now, with the sight in front of you) under the blankets. "Did you think I wasn't going to notice you with your legs completely spread and your hand over your mouth?"

"I was..." Yeah, you really didn't have a good answer for that. All of your acting skills were flying further and further out the window with every look you stole down at where his hand was still moving slowly. He hummed before you could try to explain yourself any further.

"Touching that pretty pussy? I know." He finished for you, leaning down and letting his lips drag hotly against your cheek as he groaned audibly this time. "I want it. Let me see."

Your breath was ragged and fast as he kissed just barely at your cheek and jaw, his tongue touching your skin just slightly as his free hand began to pull the blanket off of you. Your head was spinning so intensely and your heart was racing as you let him remove the blanket and toss it over the back of the couch, not sure where to put your hands or what to do with yourself. You were so enamored with the sight of him touching himself that not a single other thought seemed to be computing in your brain.

"What?" You managed to mumble out, finally tearing your eyes away from his hand to move back up to his eyes. He chuckled lowly, his hand stopping completely on his cock and instead reaching forward to push your drawn up knees out to spread.

"I know you didn't get to finish, so finish. I'll watch." He said it like it was the simplest thing someone could do, but you felt your entire body jolt at the idea of touching yourself while Ville Valo sat and watched you with that infamous stare. "Close your mouth. I haven't even shown you my cock."

As you slammed your half-open mouth shut, he pushed your legs open completely before he was closing the tiny amount of space between you to kiss you slowly, his tongue lapping sloppily into every kiss against yours as his hands got so close, yet so far, to where you were desperately craving him.

"I have to...have to take my pants off." You stuttered out against his mouth, unable to do so with his hands forcibly holding your legs open the way they were. He kissed you one more time, biting at your lip enough to sting, before he pulled away, leaning back into his spot on the couch next to you with an entertained look on his face.

You felt like you were about to go make a speech in front of thousands of people with how nervous you were as you shed your bottom layer, but his deep groan when you stepped out of your thong was enough to spur you on. His hand was back on his cock now, but it was barely moving, and you knew that he was waiting on you. Waiting so that he could touch himself to the sight of you touching yourself.

"Good girl. Spread nice and wide." He cooed as you laid against the back of the couch with your legs spread completely to him, your hand itching to jump between your legs and satiate the need that had been burning within you for hours upon hours. "God, you’re fucking wet."

You couldn't wait anymore. You didn't care if you looked desperate. Your fingers were back on your clit before he was even completely done with that sentence, and you let out a soft moan at finally getting the stimulation that your body had been screaming for ever since Ville had interrupted you before. Your legs spread a little further then, and you rolled your hips just slightly in tune with the feeling of your fingers.

When you found the mental capacity to look back at Ville, because you’d been so distracted by your own pleasure that you’d forgotten his clear original motive, you were met with exactly what you were hoping to see. He was pushing his jeans down enough to free his cock, and you watched intently as he did so, seeing the way precum was smeared across his tip as he wrapped his hand around himself and let out a shaky gasp.

"What's got you so riled up, eh? What do you touch yourself to?" He asked after he clearly got himself under control, his hand pumping his cock slowly in comparison to the quick circle of your own fingers on your clit. You didn't even care by this point. Humility was gone and hormones had taken over completely.

"You." You whimpered, your foot moving so that your leg was resting over his thigh as a way to satiate your unquenched thirst for his touch. The hand that wasn't still jerking his cock moved from your ankle up your calf, and once again, he used it as a way to pull your legs open wider.

"Yeah? About my cock balls-deep inside of you like you’ve been waiting for all day?" His words were tinged with a hint of condescending nature, but all you did was moan in agreement, eyes zeroed in on his hand moving languidly up and down on his cock over and over again as he watched you touch yourself. "Does that feel good, love?"

"So good. I'm gonna—I can't—" You couldn't form complete enough sentences to get the message across, which was that you weren't going to last much longer with him talking you through it like that while he continued to stroke himself, but it was pretty obvious. Your back was arched away from the couch at that point, and your fingers were circling fast enough to make your wrist ache as you chased your own high without much care over how close Ville was. You’d been waiting too long and too patiently to pace yourself any longer.

"Make yourself cum. Let me see." He pressed just as you moaned, his grip tightening on your leg where he was still holding your calf as his eyes watched your fingers move without a single break to look up to you. "Fuck, you look so fucking beautiful."

That was it for you. You let out a moan that made you pray that no one else in the house was awake as you came, your back arching completely off of the couch and your hips pushing upwards as your muscles spasmed. Your eyes were closed as you rode through your orgasm, but you could hear the wet sound of his hand picking up pace on his cock, and you quickly fought to open them. You had obviously never seen Ville cum, and on the likely case that this was the last time this ever happened between you, you wanted to engrain the image in your brain forever.

He was moaning tightly with each stroke of his hand, and you watched with your chest heaving as he began to fuck his own hand, his hips rolling harshly off the couch as he rode closer and closer to his own climax.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—" When he reached that tipping point, his moan was almost as loud as yours as his hips gave one final jerk before he was coming in slow streams all over his hand and partially on his jeans. His perfect features were screwed up in pleasure as his hand eventually slowed to half, barely-there strokes until the last bead of cum dripped from his slit and he let out the breath he'd clearly been holding.

You had sunk down to almost being on your back with your leg still thrown over his, and all you could do was watch him come back down to earth with your lip drawn between your teeth as he sucked in deep, shaky breaths.

"Shit, it's all over." He mumbled when he finally registered just how much he'd cum all over himself, his hand leaving your calf in favor of pulling his jeans out of the way where his cum was literally dripping from his fingers. You finally pulled yourself back into sitting position then, leaning over his lap and then running your tongue along the underside of his hand where it was dripping.

He then watched with his lips slightly parted as you took his wrist gently and began to suck each individual finger clean, trying to get past how long they were as you finally dragged your tongue across his palm before letting him go. If he wanted to go for shock factor, then you could, too. However, when he went to kiss you when you lifted your head again, you leaned back slightly.

"I just—" You had just licked what felt like five loads' worth of cum off of his hand, and you could taste the salty tang on your tongue, so you weren't sure he would've been a fan. You’d been shoved before for trying to kiss after cum had gone anywhere near your mouth. He just scoffed and laced his clean hand in your hair.

"I don't give a fuck." He muttered just before he was pulling you into a kiss, going softer and slower this time as he eventually let his grip in your hair go lax. He kissed you as if he was trying to eat you alive, his hand falling to grip your hip as he licked in your mouth just as he had before.

You kissed for a long time before you finally broke apart, both for air and because you had kind of made a little bit of a mess that really needed to be cleaned before Bam's couch was left with a ton of suspicious stains on it.

So, after about ten minutes of scrubbing cum stains (both out of the couch and out of Ville's pants and shirt), you could finally feel yourself getting tired where you’d been unable to fall asleep before. And Ville had stripped down to his boxer briefs, so it was apparent that he was staying.

"Ah. I missed my favorite part." He sighed in discontent as he paused to stare at the TV for a few seconds where the movie was still playing, shaking his head before he turned it off and then tossed the remote carelessly in the general direction of the TV stand.

"I'm sorry for distracting you." You said dryly as you laid back down on the chaise part of the couch, pulling the blanket off of the back and then silently wondering whether he was going to sleep next to you or perpendicular on the sitting portion of the couch.

"I'm not." He snickered, coming towards your part of the couch and then dropping unceremoniously down almost on top of you where you were trying to get comfortable and spread the blanket out. "Tired you out, didn’t I."

"Yeah. So shh." You mumbled, throwing the blanket over him and hoping that it was long enough to cover his seemingly-never-ending legs. He immediately slid right up into your side, his hand slipping down to find your leg where you weren't wearing pants so that he could rest his warm palm on your thigh.

"Stay down here when everyone else gets up and I'll fuck you in the morning." He whispered in your ear then, his lips brushing gently against the shell as he spoke. You inhaled shakily but didn't respond, feeling a bit of warmth flooding your chest despite your best attempts to control it when his free arm wrapped around you and pulled you flush back against his chest.

So far, you were 1-0 for scoring the hottest guy on the planet. And it didn't look like you were gearing up for any losses.

[thefuseoftemptation]

request where eddie and reader aren't together yet but they like each other then r meets Steve and you could go from there

let’s see then

THERE'S YOU, THERE'S ME, AND THEN OH, THERE'S STEVE

EDDIE MUNSON X GN!READER

WARNING(S): cussing, steve harrington x reader. sort of. mutual pining, misunderstandings, miscommunication, underlying feelings that have yet to be put out- uh huh, it’s that type of trope. ft. Steve Harrington. NOT PROOFREAD.

—

Eddie sighed once more as he fell back in his steps, shoulders falling just like the breath that was released through his nose for the umpteenth time.

It had earned a look, which was then followed by an eye roll shortly after by the younger, yet almost taller than him, teen who was next to him. 

“Dude, could you breathe anymore than you already are? Or is it just me not understanding your lack of words which by the way, is the first! The one person who you used to see so much of,” the boy gestures to you, who was only a few feet ahead, “isn’t really there anymore? Sorry, I’m not a mind reader, Eddie. But next time, if there’s something you’d like me to get, then you should more likely uh, I’m not sure, say it.” 

Dustin Henderson knew nothing if not how to be utterly unaware of how he came off, much less sounded. Eddie even told Steve that one time it was all in his tone. 

Henderson’s arms fell to his sides as he shook his head. Meanwhile, Eddie could only stare back at him with a look that said enough. “Why don’t you say it louder, Henderson? I don’t think they heard you from where they are!” Eddie all but suggested in whisper-shout. Maybe they could take in the others' words for once.

And just like before, Dustin rolled his eyes and face palmed. His hands running over his face as he left Eddie to go ahead.

Just a few weeks ago, you had met Steve. After Eddie had come to him, with you by his side, during one of his many ‘time-offs’ as he like to put it, even though you knew that it was just him not showing up for schedule because he called in, Steve and you had been at each others side.

And Eddie couldn’t stand it.

You guys were always together now. Whether it was talking, nudging shoulders after one of you made some comment, or leaning into the other’s frame for support- you were always there with him. It used to be you and Eddie until Harrington showed up.

And it was all because of the one who had been eyeing you guys ever since you got there.

Eddie hadn’t expected you to get along with Steve, but shit, who was he kidding? It’s Steve. The one who gets everybody at his feet.

Though part of what Eddie’s feeling comes from the fact that he himself can’t even say nothing false about the guy. Because not only are they friends but because Steve Harrington is not a bad guy.

If anything, what Eddie feels now, is what he felt when he kept hearing Henderson going on about the other older boy. Except now it was turned up by a few notches.

And it wasn't like Harrington and you were a thing, unless you were and Eddie had yet to know about it, but he had to give you that. You would've come to tell him. You never withheld anything for each other no matter what it was.

Though that was something Eddie might've been short of. Because there is just one thing that you hadn't been forth about, and to be honest, you weren't exactly subtle about it either.

There'd been a few times, if not all, that you made it clear that you had feelings for him. Though your friend was nothing if not slow to catch onto some things at times. Even if it was most of them.

But it goes for you too, because while your friend hadn’t been understanding your gestures, neither had you. After all, the guy has been pining after you for a while.

Eddie thought he'd given himself up by now with how many times he was went over the line and had gotten too comfortable with himself around you. I mean sure, you've know each other for a while and were used to everything the other pulled, but pulling you into him in his sleep as he nose nudged your neck was not it.

He remembers how you kept waving him off everytime he apologized, not at all affected by what had happened. He was literally on you and yet, you just laid there and let him be. The corners of your mouth turning up when you saw him lift his head will forever be in his mind, never once leaving. It's what keeps him up. Just thinking about you, your face, your nose, and the way you look at him with those eyes of yours.

Now, it seems your eyes have been set on someone else, apparently. And it seemed your friend wasn’t having it.

"What's with the face, Munson?" Your voice pushes through. In the time Eddie was in his head, you had stopped where you were with Steve and taken a step back to see Eddie, who you felt you hadn't spoken to in a while. Even though you guys see the other time after time.

"Huh?" Was all Eddie could get out before fixing himself and shrugging. "What face? M'not making a face."

"You're always making a face, Eddie."

"It's literally just my face you're referring to."

"I know." You remarked with a nudge to his shoulder. The gesture had the guy at his knees.

He turned his head to the side, his lips stretching up in a way that was just so, him.

"M'sorry, couldn't really put much input when it came to me being made, but I'm open to your suggestions if you got some?" You shook your head at his words. A breathy chuckle leaving you as you cupped his face in your hands before bringing it closer so your foreheads were pressed to one anothers.

"Never." You whispered before letting go and shoving at his chest. By then, you turned to catch back up with Steve, who had been watching the whole thing with Dustin, hands at his hips like you’d gotten used to seeing.

“What was that?” He questions where he waits, tipping his head towards where you were, and where Eddie’s currently still standing. Of course he saw.

“What was what?” You say unknowingly, as you keep up with your steps, passing by him.

"Oh my god, and they say I'm the slow one." Steve utters with a roll of his eyes as he follows you, questions on his mind.

“You are.” Dustin puts in just as they began their way.

“Y’know, you could let some go for once, Henderson.”

—

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello, its me again telling the story of my beef with Cheritz for how they completely shoved Saeyoung's trauma under the rug.

It still feel angry and resentful that even in his own timeline his trauma and his mental condition was not addressed at. all.

Many of his decisions were not healthy for neither himself nor Saeran but it was bcs he didn't know any better. He knew he had to make a difficult decision and he did it.

As his mc we weren't allowed to do anything for him even when we could see how he clearly didn't care for himself.

Seeing Saeyoung doing everything alone all throughout Saeran's recovery was really hard for me. Perhaps because I relate to him so much, I could feel what he must've been going through. Always on an edge trying to make the correct decision so that nothing falls apart. Seeing Saeran in such a way must've been so unbearably hard for him but he had to stay strong for the both of them ignoring all the feelings of guilt, shame, anger, self loathing and so much more filling him to the brim. Making sure that Saeran is safe no matter what. Also completely ignoring his own health in the process.

Saeyoung should've had an arc dedicated to him at least starting to unlearn his trauma. I know it would've taken time but I didn't mind, they already addressed everyone else's trauma. They could've definitely gone another mile for him and involved mc too.

This is just something I always struggle with as a Saeyoung MC. Whenever I play any route or after ending or backstory or literally anything in the game. Nowhere is Saeyoung's trauma addressed and validated. It's implied but never addressed. Rather treated as a noble sacrifice on his part. Pain that he would happily take on for Saeran's wellbeing because he is just so selfless. But that is so wrong, there is so much guilt and trauma behind it and it feeds into his extreme paranoia making him unable to see that he is not only holding himself back from healing but Saeran as well.

I felt so useless throughout the whole sequence. I just wanted to be there for him in any way, be it bringing them something to eat or just sharing a simple phonecall with Saeyoung asking him how things are going, to let him talk about his feelings. But we were just made just spectators unable to do anything but see them.

I'm sorry for dumping this onto you, I saw your post about Saeyoung's parentification and had so many thoughts I wanted to share. I knew Saeyoung had deep rooted trauma that made him completely disregard himself and his needs but didn't have a word for it. You explained it perfectly. And I appreciate you for that. These aspects of him are hardly ever talked about so I was really happy you did.

So even if you might disagree with me on this, but I believe Saeyoung deserved to have an arc to unpack his trauma. Alas it's not possible anymore.

Thank you again Kait 🫶

I'm not a Saeyoung MC by any means, but that doesn't mean that I don't love him and want better for him. I love him like a brother and I have a hard time seeing him suffer over and over again when he has the ability to reach out and ask for help in his route and subsequent after ending.

I get why he does what he does, and I've had the time to understand him as a person to know why he made a lot of... well, reckless choices in the name of doing the right thing. He knows that sometimes, there is only one option, and it's taking the road that's just a little less worse in comparison to the other road you could take. That's just the way it works sometimes, and there isn't another way around it. But, in most situations where Saeyoung is suffering—

He could've gotten all the help in the world if he asked for it. He has trust issues and he's fraught with paranoia, but the RFA will not give up on him no matter what. If he asks for help, he'll get it. That's been proven countless times. But, it's his trauma that makes him deny the help every time. He doesn't want to help himself. He wants to help his baby brother. That's his reason for living.

But, he doesn't need to be selfless to the point where he suffers, and I wish—I wish so often—that Saeyoung could've been allowed to have a lot more agency over his trauma, as well as the ability to talk about it and confront it. He deserves love and to be helped the way he helps his family. He shouldn't deny it. He shouldn't run away from it. That's a huge narrative arc of his route and we all know it.

The Secret Ending could've done well to have added that to his MC. Something, anything, just a snapshot of MC trying to help him and him taking that help. Even if that help was as small as bringing him dinner to share with Saeran. It makes sense why he would be wary of MC being around Saeran or Saeran being around MC just on the off chance that it would be traumatic, I get his reasoning there and I'm sure many Saeyoung MCs don't blame him for that.

But, MC needed the ability to do something. That is probably one of my only pieces of blunt criticism when it comes to that. Saeyoung is someone who just promised to be honest, open, and clear with you about his feelings and identity. I'm not saying he shouldn't regress or struggle, because God knows he would fall into old habits, but where in the hell is the scene where Saeyoung has a goddamn meltdown in MC's arms because he is so tired of being strong?!

Something! Anything!

For the love of God, allow Saeyoung the opportunity to heal from his trauma in a healthy way, and grant him the chance to be vulnerable with the person he loves more than anything because that's what the Saeyoung MCs want! Saeyoung, you've been fighting long enough. I think it's time to rest. You don't need to be the only one who carries a burden on his back. Let's carry this fear, together.

[secretgaygenttomura]

I Think I Get It Now (MHA One-Shot)

(An internal first-person monologue from Tomura, to Twice. Themes of plurality in an unconventional way and bodily posession)

I used to be confused, why you would suddenly act out about your other half when you didn't have your mask. I wouldn't judge, of course. There was much worse that happened, and little ever did you let it come between us. But, I could see how much pain you were in. I couldn't imagine being constantly at war with yourself, at least in that way. 

Then, sadly you passed on while I was going through my transformation. Before I even knew it, and I missed the conversations we would have. Instead, in those moments I reflected. 

Sure, you made plenty of mistakes, and we often couldn't track your contradictory lines of logic, but we knew that you only ever had the best intentions. And, you brought joy. You made the quiet, tense moments vibrant and full of laughter, and I always wondered how you could do that. I still do. 

It is now, well after my transformation and new quirks that I really take you into consideration. We never got to know your parts outside of Jin, for what seemed like personal reasons. And now, I see how that may have been sensitive. In a way, I'm glad I never brought him up. 

As an unintended consequence of recieving the All For One quirk, through suspicious means, my Sensei's 'vestige' has appeared within me, and... taken control of me. The first time it happened, I'm not sure you would've been around. My sense of time was very loose. 

I started getting headaches, which now I remember seeing you grasping your head in the corner of the room quietly. 

I started hearing voices other than myself in my head, to which I also remember seeing you curse at yourself seemingly inexplicably. I imagine we had similar gripes about thoughts that aren't ours. 

And I started taking actions and saying words that weren't my own. When this would happen, I would remember how you grappled with yourself to make the choice you wanted. 

Our origins of this were significantly different circumstances, if I remember right. Yours came out of a place of distress, and mine came out of an unwise choice I made. But often I found looking to you as a theraputic exercise. I'm sure you would be ecstatic to find out you were helpful... 

I had a revelation, once. As I was flying over the Pacific on a Nomu. I was heading into battle against America's #1 Pro, and my identity was fuzzy. I had no idea whether I was me, or if I was Sensei. In fact, I believe we may have been neither. Not necessarily someone else, though I happened to find another later on. But I found what made it easier. I understand why your mask brought you solace. 

Me and Sensei in that moment, formed one superflouous entity. Both neither of us and both of us, under no specific name. It became apparent this was the case, when the hero's quirk that manipulated reality with words addressed us by my name, our name, Shigaraki. And it didn't work. It was one of the many things we shared, yet, it had no effect on us. This lack of separation protected us. And while the peace between us didn't last, I understood how you could cooperate in that moment. 

I think I get it now. 

I understood why you hid under that mask of being "Twice." That superflouous entity that encapsulated everything you are. It was the way you cooperated. 

Now, things between me and Sensei have gotten worse. We've become more and more separated, and an embodiment of my younger self has been thrown into the mix as amnesia in my mind starts to lessen; as much as I hoped things would get better, I'm not sure that I'll ever find that peace and coordination again. Unfortunately my circumstances are not very simple, and you are no longer here to guide me through this darkness, I wish for it anyway. 

I wonder, through all this pain, how did you ever find a way to bring in joy? 

I wish I knew.

-

Check out my Ao3!

[canonically-a-genloser]

4+1

four times Randy and Henrik were fathers to Paislie, and one time she got to be that for Cade.

a/n: i did these in chunks all starting at two in the morning im so sorry for whatever this is about to be or if it doesnt even make sense nrhfrhh-

(sorta edited? nrjffh-)

Paislie couldn't feel shit.

All she knew was, she'd been masked a long time and it felt like her brain was turning into jello.

Inky blackness floated in her vision as she stood at attention, the perfect picture of an innocent lamb that Showfall had dressed around the core of a monster.

Her weak thread of consciousness seemed to simply float around in the darkness. She was unable to do anything unbidden, and though her mind was neither entirely free nor hers, her senses would stay vaguely intact enough to either follow directions or know whether she was in danger.

All day long, she'd heard footsteps come and go, people speaking about her in low voices, and the like. She stood at alert, ready to follow any instruction, but none came.

She'd supposed the ones she could hear now were no different until they came to a quiet stop in front of her.

"Hey," a familiar voice said, and the tiny corner of her brain that was still hers felt a little happier. It probably would've been much more so if she were sure the person who was speaking wasn't mad at her.

"They said you could- should probably come get some rest," Randy told her. "Thought I'd come get ya."

It only took him a second of bemused staring to realize she couldn't verbally answer him.

"Oh, yeah. The mask- yeah." He paused for a second. "Well- either way. We should probably get you to bed. Don't want you to be sore from standing all night when the mask comes off. Come on."

Paislie only tilted her head a little bit. She'd thought Randy would hate her, she'd fought his basically-kids and gotten herself masked. Being a little extra sore would be getting off the hook lucky enough.

"Come on," he repeated, his voice more gentle this time. "It's okay. I know."

What did he know? Did he know the full story? Did he know she probably deserved what she got, like Sneeg had said in the first place? Did he know she'd jumped to anger first even though Charlie had tried to help? Did he know she'd accidentally hurt Charlie anyway?

She looked down. If she'd been able to, she would've cried. Randy should hate her, he deserved to, just like Harmony deserved it, just like August and Kimberlee and the twins-

A gentle hand on her shoulder brought her spiraling train of thought back to the corner of reality she could still process.

"Mask comes off tomorrow. We'll talk about it then. Okay?"

He held out a hand to lead her to her room, and again, if she could have, she would have let out an audible sigh of relief. He wasn't mad. At least not too much. He didn't hate her.

She took his offered hand with genuine quietness that no effect of the mask could ever replicate.

Something about it calmed her down. She figured Randy knew that, though.

Henrik didn't question it when he saw Randy with a masked Paislie beside him. He even picked up one of the blankets from where it was folded at the foot of the bed and handed it to her.

At least for now, she figured, they trusted her. They weren't angry or disappointed or anything else she'd convinced herself they would and should be.

And until they talked it out, she figured, that was enough for her.

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

At first, Paislie had laughed when Henrik offered to cut her hair. In Showfall, everyone got simple haircuts that were quick and easy to effectively maintain. Nothing complex, no special requests. Just a trim or rarely a slightly shorter cut, only enough to make it look nice.

"I've got time," Henrik told her.

Paislie had just finished explaining to him how she wished her hair were shorter, among other non-Showfall approved ideas, but she still hesitated.

"You should just take your break," she said after a second.

Henrik smiled. "You're sure?"

When Paislie paused, he shrugged. "I've got a pretty clear idea of what you were describing. It's quick enough," he added.

"Right, but they'll notice."

"You're one in maybe a thousand people here, they've got more pressing matters than someone's hair getting cut a little extra. If you want, I could put it in a bun for you afterward so they can't tell how much is there."

She sighed, a half-smile on her face. "If you're sure you won't be in trouble for it."

" 'Course I'm sure," he said with a matching smile, nodding towards the wardrobe room. "Come on."

So it was, less than half an hour later, Paislie's hair only reached to her shoulders at the longest, and her bangs were layered better than she could've gotten even from any of the other employees who did actors' hair for the shows.

Henrik almost looked nervous when she didn't say anything for a moment after seeing it.

Paislie had never thought she'd have this much time just for her after she couldn't act in shows anymore. Once she couldn't be loved because there was no more need for her to be, once she wouldn't need comfort anymore because she wasn't physically hurt.

She sighed, smiling as she realized she was breaking down over a haircut, every part of her longing to hug Henrik out of simple gratitude.

"It's perfect," was the only thing she could think to say. "Thank you."

The older smiled down at her. "Don't sweat it. I'm glad you're happy." He paused for another moment. "We could mess with the wardrobe stuff for a while if you want. I think they got new stuff in."

"Hell yeah," Paislie said, her smile only getting bigger as the two headed towards the heavy black door.

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

Paislie couldn't remember being this sick since she'd been resurrected.

She'd been instructed on what to do, told to use her inhaler more liberally if she felt like she needed to, and gotten certain medicines recommended to her- half of which the mall didn't even have.

But even the best that could be done short of getting reset wouldn't help if you literally couldn't breathe in the first place.

She let out a hoarse cough, to which every muscle in her body gave a protesting ache.

This was pathetic, she thought to herself. She was seventeen, far more than old enough to take care of herself, and yet she'd gotten herself so sick she couldn't even talk. Or work up the energy to move, she added bitterly.

And of course there was a meeting today.

Her eyes opened slightly as that last piece of information occurred to her. She tried remembering what day today even was, but her brain didn't cooperate.

So she figured she'd go back to sleep and hope by the time she woke up she'd be able to at least move.

She closed her eyes. She couldn't tell how fast time was passing or what she was dreaming, what was real, or what she'd made up in her Benadryl-addled mind.

When Paislie finally heard her door open, she rolled over to slightly open her eyes.

Randy was at the door (but hadn't he been here earlier?), and glanced around the messy room. He hesitated for a moment to take in the sight of her under a pile of blankets and entirely wiped out by whichever medicine she'd taken last.

She categorized her last memory of Randy being in her room to give her water under "Benadryl Hallucinations" and moved to sit up.

"Jeez," Randy said quietly. "You know, if you needed me, I could've been here. I've been around sick people before."

Paislie coughed into her elbow. "It's okay. Just needed to rest is all."

Randy nodded. "If you say so."

He was quiet for another moment.

"Had any water yet?"

Aside from her half-awake dream state, she didn't think she'd seen any around. The last water she'd had was maybe when she had her medicine.

"Can't remember," she admitted. "What time 's it?"

"Around six. Hang on, I'll be right back."

The room fell silent, and Paislie laid back down. She'd missed the meeting, but at least she wasn't alone now.

If her brain didn't feel like a mud puddle she'd probably be beyond pissed at herself right now, but she could deal with that later, ahe supposed.

A moment later, Randy reappeared with various items in his arms- almost enough that he could barely keep from dropping anything.

"Do you know when you last had any kinda fever reducer?" he asked, beginning to gingerly place down water, a thermometer, and a thousand other things Paislie was too lazy to keep track of.

She nodded. "Haven't been up since this morning. Should be fine."

"Good to hear. Let's check this thing, yeah?"

He held the thermometer out to her. "You wanna do it, or do you want me to?"

"I got it," she said, taking it and frowning at the buttons before she figured it out.

It beeped after a moment, and Randy bent over to glance at the number.

"Could be worse. If the fever reducers don't work though, we'll go get you reset, okay?"

Paislie looked up sharply. "It's not that bad-"

"I didn't mean it like that, hey." He knelt down to get on her level at the side of the bed. "It's nothing serious, alright? It wouldn't hurt. They'd just fix you up and it would be done. It's not like getting revived."

She didn't look at him, instead staring at her hands.

"Okay." Randy stood back up, glancing over at the nightstand. "We're gonna keep that from happening anyway."

Paislie coughed again, and Randy had to keep himself from wincing. She sounded awful, and whatever Amrita had tried to explain to Randy about why her lungs never healed properly probably wasn't helping.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Mhmm. Hurts a little," she answered.

He gave a sympathetic hum. "Sounds like it. Do you feel like your inhaler would help?"

Paislie shook her head, and he replied with a nod. "That's okay," he told her, offering her a glass of water and a fever reducer. "Sit up for me? After this, you can go back to sleep," he promised.

She did so, offering no resistance. It reminded Randy of Charlie at her age, though he quickly shoved that thought away.

Less than a moment later, the medicine had been taken, and Paislie was laying back down again with a thin blanket on top of her in a feeble attempt to keep her chills from getting too bad.

Randy looked at the loose braid he'd put in her short hair. Henrik hadn't taught him how to braid until recently, but he figured it would suffice until Paislie woke up and needed to head out of her room.

"Get some rest, Lee," he told her. "I'll go so you can sleep. I'll be back around tenish. Sound good?"

Paislie nodded. She didn't know how to feel about- most of it, really. She was beyond thankful for Randy and Henrik. Maybe it was just a matter of getting used to the whole idea of being taken care of by someone who wasn't half her age and size.

Maybe, on this side of dying, not everything would be bad about Showfall. Maybe she could dare to hope that the people here, kidnapped like her, wouldn't be like most people she'd known in the world outside.

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

Randy for the most part knew how to raise a kid, if he did say so himself.

At least, two kids who would stay together and didn't leave a certain space. And who didn't cry as much as a girl would.

Paislie had been a whole different story from either Sneeg or Charlie. At seventeen, she'd learned to hate the world, she'd learned the type of grief that was feral and angry and protective of whatever was left of the people she loved.

Not that that was in and of itself terribly different from his own kids, but with it came a distrust of anything else. Including himself, since she hadn't been here nearly as long as Sneeg and Charlie had.

So of course the first time Randy caught Paislie crying on her own, she'd backed away with a look in her eyes like a caged animal that was giving up.

So Randy sat with her.

After raising Sneeg, that was the only thing he could think to do. Get on her level and wait.

And to an extent- it worked.

He could've picked a better place than the cold cement floor of the warehouse to get on her level, he realized extremely belatedly as the sobbing, exhausted teenager finally sat beside him for comfort.

Randy still didn't make a move to get up until she finally wiped her eyes for the last time fifteen minutes later.

"Better?"

"Dunno yet," the teary voice that didn't sound like Paislie said.

He thought for a moment. "How about you wash up, get ready for bed and all, and I can send Amrita or somebody in to make sure you're okay-"

"Can we have a guitar lesson?" Paislie butted in.

Randy looked over at her.

In all honesty, the kid looked like she needed anything but a guitar lesson. An ibuprofen, maybe, for the migraine she'd probably given herself from crying, and then a fucking nap.

"Yeah," he found himself saying anyway. "Go on. I'll be there in a couple minutes, okay?"

And she nodded back, the smallest of smiles showing up on her face before she hauled herself up off the floor.

She headed in the direction of her room, and Randy just as quickly found himself in Henrik's.

Henrik raised an eyebrow when Randy picked up his guitar.

"It's for Paislie," Randy explained. "Kid's having a rough time. Didn't say with what."

"I figured," Henrik answered quietly.

He moved to pick up Randy's small bag of guitar picks and other things he'd forgotten the names of and handed it to his husband.

Their hands stayed linked together for a second, Henrik looking down at Randy's callused fingers.

Randy offered a smile in return. "I'll be back soon," he said before gently letting Henrik's hand go and heading back out the door.

By the time he knocked on Paislie's door, the girl had gotten into pajamas and gotten out her own beat-up guitar, sitting on the side of her bed to watch Randy as he played.

And so she did. The songs she knew, she tremulously sang and/or played along to, and the ones she didn't she would lean against her bedframe to listen to while Randy played the chords.

Randy's prediction hadn't been far off, either. Within the first six songs, Paislie's eyes were closing.

Randy hadn't even noticed it until her hands began loosening around her guitar.

He gently put his own guitar down, gently taking hers to its stand.

"Okay. There we go," he said, turning back to her.

Paislie moved to lay down without being told, and Randy put his guitar strap over his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Randy said in reply. It was as gentle as it was genuine. "'Night, kiddo."

"Mhmm. 'Night."

Randy was almost a hundred percent sure she'd fallen asleep before he had even finished closing the door on his way out.

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

Paislie didn't know the kid who had been brought in very well.

All she'd learned so far was that her name was Arcadia, she was around ten years old, and that nobody could figure out how to get her to talk to them. For anything.

So she made it her mission to try.

She'd practically raised her four siblings, and August had been almost Arcadia's age. She could figure it out.

Paislie picked up her guitar, some snacks she'd stolen from the kitchen, and some random art supplies she'd found in a closet somewhere.

And with that, moments later, she'd found herself at the door of the newly renovated room that had been assigned to Arcadia.

She quietly knocked.

The room was silent.

Paislie glanced around the hallway, looking for any other room that had maybe been redone and maybe she hadn't noticed-

Until the door squeaked just barely open and the little girl appeared in the small opening.

"Hi," Paislie offered softly in greeting, not making any move towards the door for fear of scaring Arcadia off. "Heard you got here a little bit ago. I thought I'd come say hi. My name's Paislie, by the way."

The dark haired girl didn't answer, but she hadn't closed the door yet either. Sort of a win.

"I brought us some stuff we could do," Paislie tried again. "I have some coloring books. Wanna see?"

Arcadia looked doubtful, but still eyed Paislie's backpack curiously.

It was only a moment later that she slowly opened the door to let Paislie in, sitting on the floor beside her bed and motioning for Paislie to do the same from where she was across the room.

And so she did.

Paislie spent the next four minutes just talking to Arcadia. Showing her everything she'd brought to play with, briefly mentioning the guitar, and making subtle attempts at a genuine conversation with the other girl.

Paislie's answer came nearly an hour later. Arcadia had taken well to the coloring book Paislie brought, and even better to hearing Paislie pluck out a few songs she'd learned from Randy over the past almost year.

She'd been playing a lullaby and humming along when she heard the girl's voice alongside her own for a split second, as though Arcadia were worried she'd been too loud. When Paislie didn't outwardly react, Arcadia continued, if somewhat quieter.

Paislie would have smiled if it wouldn't have startled Arcadia all over again.

So she only sat, playing the song all the way through as well as she remembered it.

"Alright," she said softly afterwards, "I've got work. I can leave everything here if you'd like, though. Be back tonight if I get the chance and you'd like me to."

Arcadia nodded, the quietest of smiles on her face.

And Paislie smiled back.

Hopefully this kid wouldn't have to deal with Showfall putting her in shows, she found herself already thinking. She didn't bother trying not to hate Showfall.

If she couldn't protect anyone before, she could at least make every effort to protect Arcadia.

She could at least try to make sure Arcadia never regretted opening that door for Paislie.

[nirashiyahell]

Drabble #1: The Beach.

Neither of them liked executive meetings, for one reason or another, but they went anyway because there was no other choice, it was mandatory, a few times to call in sick and that's it.

But in opposition, there was something to look forward to, during those (mostly) pointless gatherings ordered by the Leader, and to everyone else's dismay, it was a constant and would continue as one; fights. Though childish at first, they would evolve to more serious complaints, in an attempt to personally harm the other person or have them back down from arguing, automotically giving the other victory; sure, it would've been more accepted as a calm debate, but that was nearly impossible when the people involved were two geniuses.

Their personalities clashing were a recipe for disaster, two adults that were not above acting like children if it was to degrade each other, which happened at least twice every fight, as if it was an indespensable step in their routinely screaming matches; sometimes major, minor on hard days, but they would never miss a day, it was a crucial part that needed to be adressed, and since they were to remain on civil terms, it was the only way to let out the anger they had, wether it was directed towards the other was subjective.

Most of the executive board had gotten used to their repeating quarrels, and some even made bets on who would stop them before it turned physical; it rarely got to that point anymore, after a few broken limbs they understood verbally abusing each other was the best option, and there were no more incidents after that.

Some theorized that it was a routine purely born from the sentiment of frustration, maybe hate at its extreme, while others assumed that it was simply a release of tension from the Games or the responsibilities of being an executive.

Both of them would be hilariously wrong suppositions, although neither the militant or the hooded man had a proper answer, it certainly wasn’t that; the pressure of such an important position was well within their control, and they were not as immature as they let it be believed, at least in public.

What was it then?

Comfort. The aimless debates were something that helped them amidst the rambling of their lunatic chief intergrated in their life as a necessary repetition that was moreso tolerated by their colleagues; Hatter and the rest likely let it slide because if they hadn't allowed that, the two men would have surely killed each other, it was a fact that was unanimously agreed upon, not a threat or a negotiation.

It was refreshing, after the initial bitterness towards the other party, an imaginary weight was lifted off their chest, as if those missiles of words could free them of some kind of repressed longing; the sore throat they would get afterwards was worth it, though they had never confirmed it, they weren't upset about it and almost treated it as something to be proud of, a sign that they had held their ground unril the end, that they didn't let the other one win.

For Niragi it might have been the increasing satisfaction of getting reactions out of him, the mysteriously deadpan man succumbing to emotions in those fights; the knowledge that they were on equal footing was amazing, although the blonde wouldn't admit it, he probably recognized the shoother as an equal, his intelligent enemy.

As for Chishiya, on the outside, it did him no hot or cold, it was an habitual situation disrupting the mundane, but he would have been lying if he said there wasn't more to it, that uncontrolled rush of adrenaline and emotion was almost addicting, and the subtle implications that his rival was smarter than he looked was rewarding; the cherry on top was that anything could be said, no holding back, the only rule was to not have anything physical.

It was their way of flirting, in a way.

[dramatisperscnae]

"i know there's been a lot between us, kyle, but i want you to know i'm... thankful," it's hard to be honest in a place like the one hal's actions put him, but he has to be. kyle held the torch for them all when he nearly snuffed the green lanterns out. hell, if the kid didn't want to look at his face ever again after meeting him as parallax, he'd understand, but here they are, sharing a rare moment of peace.

maybe it's the rare opportunity of sharing a moment at warriors without guy or john watching. maybe it's the alcohol talking already (he shouldn't drink, anyway, but recommendations are not something he follows through often), but he thinks kyle deserves a little honesty.

"i know you think you weren't chosen but even if you weren't, you were better than any expectations anyone could have. doing all you did, with no training? kilowog would've been out of his mind." he chuckles at the rim of his pitcher. "and hey, i know that means little considering i was the one who put you in that spot first thing, but... i mean it. you are one of the best of us."

Kyle really hadn't known what to expect when Hal had invited him out. They hadn't really had much interaction since Hal's return, and the only meetings they'd had before then had mostly been Hal - well. Parallax. - trying to kick seven kinds of shit out of him. And then had come the Sun-eater, and then Hal had died, and now…well, death somehow had a way of never quite being permanent for the true legends, didn't it?

Not that Kyle included himself among that number despite his own death during that Atlantis fiasco, but that was neither here nor there.

But he couldn't deny it was nice to actually talk with Hal Jordan himself for once, without the added weight of Guy and John in the conversation. It wasn't that Kyle didn't like being a part of the group - far from it - but get all four of them together and Kyle tended to feel kind of like D'artagnan to the others' Three Musketeers; a part of the group, absolutely, but still somehow on the outskirts, without the deeper bond the other three had.

He sipped at his beer, the conversation reaching a natural lull for a moment before Hal spoke up again and had Kyle looking up in mild confusion. Thankful…? What, just in general or for something specific? And where had it come from all of a sudden? They'd been just shooting the shit, catching each other up on the more mundane aspects of their respective lives - what few those were - and suddenly this?

But Hal didn't stop there. Kyle stared at him, brain trying to catch up with what he was hearing. No one else had really ever acknowledged the fact that Kyle had never gotten the same training as the others…hell, he'd never even heard the oath until Donna had introduced him to John, and he sure as hell hadn't known the legacy he carried. He'd done his best, of course, but there had been - still were - days where it just didn't feel like enough.

And then Hal had to go and finish like that. Kyle couldn't help the wry, almost disbelieving chuckle as he focused on his beer rather than the man across from him. It was one thing for Kyle's own ego to occasionally talk like that, but to hear it from Hal Jordan? The legend himself? That was something else. Especially since Hal still seemed to think Kyle really had been chosen.

"I wasn't chosen, y'know," he said with a shrug. "It could've been anyone in that alley that night. Could've been the homeless guy. Happened to be me. 'You shall have to do', exactly what he said before he shoved the ring at me and disappeared." And then, a scant few months later, he'd had to fight to keep the damned thing when both Ganthet and Hal had showed up to take it back and claim it personally, respecively. No, Kyle Rayner hadn't been chosen. He had chosen. He'd fought for his right to wear the ring.

"But that…it means a lot, actually, coming from you," he added with a crooked grin. "More than you think. I mean, all that bullshit aside, you're still Hal Jordan, y'know? The living legend, that whole thing?" Supposedly the best Green Lantern ever, depending on who you asked. "When he gave me the ring, Ganthet's only instructions were to 'do what I must'." Kyle shrugged. "So I did. Learned a lot of lessons the hard way, but…I'm still here, so I've gotta be doing something right, yeah?"

[therealnuclearplatypus]

MALECTOBER 2022 DAY 27—TIME

@malectober

They were dancing. The night sky was alight with sparkling runes and other crude figures Ragnor was conjuring. Alec only hoped that Max and Rafe weren't paying too much attention to those.

Magnus was holding him as they slow-danced to Jace's piano-playing, smiling at the rings on their fingers and tracing the area on Alec's forearm where his new rune lay. His wedding rune. He was finally married. To the love of his life, of every other life he'd lived and would ever live, and they'd just gotten married. At a beach, in front of everyone they cared about. They'd made it.

At long last.

Alec sniffled. He couldn't help it; he'd dreamed of this day for years. He and Magnus had both told each other of their fantasies and wishes. And now, they were all becoming true right before their very eyes. It was still too much to believe.

"Aw, baby, don't cry," Magnus said, holding his closer.

"That's only gonna make me cry even more," he answered, physically holding back tears of the purest joy.

Magnus breathed a soft laugh and kissed him. Alec held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go. In his hands was the greatest miracle of all.

"I love you," he said as they parted.

"I love you, too," Magnus replied in a tender whisper that made Alec's heart flutter. As it always did when it came to Magnus.

Alec did cry then. Salty tears slipped down his cheeks and he gasped. He never thought he could be so happy. Magnus kissed his tears away, and just then, Ragnor made the figure of a blue-and-gold heart erupt over their heads, making the moment even more magical.

"You know," Magnus whispered, now also crying, "I've dreamt and dreamt of this day, and knew in my heart it would happen, but now that it has, it really has exceeded any expectations I could have had of a day that would've been magical regardless of how it played out." He paused, swallowing. "By your Angel, Alec. We're married."

Alec laughed tearfully. "Yeah, we are." He kissed him, over and over again. He couldn't never kiss him enough, never show him just how much he loved him. It was a love that that transcended any spoken word.

"Time has always passed so ... oddly, for me," Magnus said quietly. "It either passes me by as if it never was, or it lugs on slowly and never sees its end fast enough. But with you, it's like—it's like time has finally found a rhythm. And time hasn't—hasn't always treated me kindly. It hasn't treated you any kinder, either, but centuries are hard to define; there are times you fuck up so badly it's like you can't see past those times, as if those times are all that have ever existed, and they come back to bite you even after decades and decades. There are also times you're doing okay, that time seems survivable. But this time—I know I've made the right choice, found the right person. You are my person, Alexander. And for all of time, all that has passed and all that will come, you'll be my heart. I love you so much."

Alec kissed him fiercely. "Even when I'm long gone, let these times be the fire to warm you on the cold days. Not even the grave will ever make me stop loving you." He looked at him, lips trembling. "I'm not good with words. You know that. You know everything there is to know about me. By the Angel, I never thought I'd get to have all this."

"Neither did I," Magnus said, eyes shining. "Time really can bestow us with the greatest of gifts to counter its bitterest curses."

"Time's a bitch," Alec murmured.

Magnus laughed softly. "Indeed it is. It will snatch you away from me one day—but for now, Time is letting me have you. Right now, Time is kind."

"We should thank it, then," Alec whispered.

Magnus's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Indeed."

And they kissed for a long time.

[crystalelemental]

Sync Pair Retrospective - Halloween 2022

I feel like this event was weird. I dunno, it just didn't feel that engaging to me? It's hard to explain.

Halloween Allister Allister came out second, but I'm talking about him first, because I once said he was the worst support released last year. It's been another year now, and...yeah actually, I stand by it.

Halloween Allister feels very much like SS Wally, in that sense where he was ultimately held back for having a new trait. Ghost Rebuff was supposed to be a huge deal, but Ghosts...don't really love this guy. They can get along, but the bad speed tends to hinder more than help, given how gauge limited many of them already are. His immediate +3 crit for the team is nice, but defense is only relevant sometimes, and his Ramp Up is incredibly slow acting. He's a pair that thrives more in Gauntlet, especially as a soloist given his passive recovery, but his CS performance is highly suspect. This has not significantly changed.

The completion of grid expansions did provide Allister with two F2P partners in Agatha and Shauntal. Agatha's stalling technique via Hypnosis allows Allister to take a little longer with the Ramp Up to get her where she's going, while Shauntal's speed boosting trainer move meant gauges were less of a problem. Neither was an ideal fit. They worked well, but were far from exceptional. NY Dawn was effective enough, further improving physical bulk and doubling his Ramp Up buff. But the trouble with Allister is that if he's getting Ramp Up, he's not applying the rebuff, and then what is he doing? You need approximate self-sufficiency, but the only two with that, Anni Lillie and Renegade Cynthia, are pretty slow and gauge hungry. So he often fails to give them what they need.

Allister hasn't really changed. If anything he's gotten worse, as other fast-acting crit buffers jump in. NC Calem does the same +3 crit with the right grid, and offers a huge boost to Atk with some Sp Atk in the same action, while having two types of field effect. Palentine's Mallow does the same Def/Crit with high personal healing and Ramp Up gimmick, but with special defense drops on her main damage attack instead of the type rebuff, making her more broadly applicable. Frankly, if it weren't for the rebuff, Variety Agatha would've put him out of a job permanently as far as offensive support goes. The kid started out pretty bad and arguably got worse. His only real niche at this point is a Gauntlet Solo count few care about, and the rebuff that doesn't see much use. That'll save the meta.

Halloween Iris So with that you may think hey, Iris has Poison Zone, and Poison is a rough time. I guess she's the better pick. Great news! She's the worst Zone setter! It's not even close!

Iris' Zone exists for herself. Hyper Beam spam is at least decent, despite her low special attack, and she can do okay at clearing on-type content. Though off-type reveals how bad the special attack really is. Her only other utility is Acid, which she needs 3/5 to make a 100% AoE chance to debuff special defense. That is a lot of investment for an effect Lucian wildly outperforms at 1/5, girl. Zone is carrying you, and frankly, it's not worth it given how bad Poison damage really is. It's incredibly had to justify Iris.

The introduction of new damage dealers was also a double edged sword. Yes, Emma and Oleana could use the Zone. But they're physical, and new CS parameters with the 12.5k meta meant you didn't want to attack with both types of damage, so oopsie doodles, using Iris is not using someone who does literally nothing but Zone, or trying to let her contribute to damage by re-allocating points to more punishing conditions. Emma had an easier time with Looker than Iris. And Oleana had a rebuff that she slapped on right away to ensure Toxic, effectively replicating Iris' utility, then adding Venom Drench and Pep Rally 2 on Move Gauge Boost to the mix. Oleana wasn't so much a good partner to Iris as her replacement. It wasn't Zone, but it got the job done better. The only real partners Iris has received as Drasna, who has Poison as secondary, and Petrel, who is a 0.4% chance to happen on a limited banner he's sharing with four other targets. Good luck with that!

Iris is not in a great position. Poison is starting to seriously pick up as a damage type, but they're all physical. And while Iris doesn't contribute much, she prefers special. Which very, very few competent Poison-types are. Iris is still waiting for the special Poison type of her dreams, that has competent DPS and is easier to access and everything. Personally, I'm hoping it's Halloween Lusamine and Nihilego this year. But given how the year has gone for me personally, I'm not confident.

[blakebow]

I would say in someways korrasami i shs worse then bb for korra and asami were barely friends they barely interacted with eachother in b4. in remembrances when korra was feeling down asami failed to help korra failed to support her the way she needed to be supported tenzin had to come in and talk to korra the person ( while asami went youre the avatar of course we need you and korra putting korra the avatar as the focus over korra the person ) has always been a problem for her. in that same episode mako made a speech about korra the person adn what she means to him. while in the zaheer episode mako supported korra the way she needed to be supported.

people bring up their breakup but they broke up due to mutual flaws which alongside the situation at the time made it so they had to breakup. neither of them would have worked with anyone at the time and in their breakup it was done in a way that made you feel that they still loved each other and by b4 they overcame the mutual flaws that led to the breakup ( arguing wasnt the problem korras personality type is that of someone who would do well when she is in a relationship with someone who would argue with her ) it was the resolution that was the issue.

on b2 breakup . We have hand holding…

Trouble parting ways…

Forehead touches…

Kissing…

Declarations of eternal love…

the way it was handled was like a hint to them eventually getting backtogether

korra in the last 2 minutes was ooc (korra going on a vacation when the world needed her is ooc of her she has always been dutiful ) and to be frank it always felt like korra wasnt korra when she was with asami

absolutely! i was so disappointed how forced korrasami was. it always rubbed me the wrong way that while korra was depressed and everyone else she loved was trying to reach out to her she only wrote to asami. LIKE EXCUSE YOU??? what about everyone else who cares about you?!

"You're the only one who would understand Asami," Bullshit.

the way she looks at Mako in the last episode absolutely gives off vibes that she never got over him, either. korrasami is and was so fake.

Bryke only pandered to be relevant at the time, because they weren't on nickelodeon and could get away with doing things that would've changed the show's rating on tv. korrasami had no build up, no evidence, nothing. their relationship up until that endgame point was of platonic female friends bonding over the guy they both dumped.

Korra and Mako truly loved each other through everything and they should've gotten back together, damnit.

[sleepyselkiesims]

Part 43

Now that the wedding was over, Melody wanted to bring up her old fears again... she really didn't want to be a disappointment to her momma!

She explained that she really hadn't dropped out out of fear! She just wanted more time to do the stuff she loved! And this time, Ariel calmed her down quickly.

She hadn't listened to Melody the first time, and she was sorry. She really was proud of her! And Melody was old enough to make her own choices by now.

Everything really was ok between them! Melody had never felt so relieved as she did when she got the parental thumbs-up.

Things still weren't perfect, but maybe, just like her moms' relationship, it didn't have to be. At least it was getting better!

With that mother daughter bond a little stronger, the benevolent god figured it was time for a little family outing with the other mother-daughter duo!

They couldn't live so close to an amusement park without visiting at least once!

Neither of these two had any particular Ferris Wheel fears; if anything, it was a bit tame for them!

Next stop, pier ice cream!! Whatever Cassandra wanted!

If there was one thing Cassie took seriously, it was ice cream choice. And totally not an excuse to try out every ice cream!

Overall, it was a really nice day out! Cassie couldn't help wondering, why didn't momma take her out more?

Well, Ariel would've joined this time, but the wedding had completely exhausted her. Of all the places the benevolent god would've looked for her, bed was not one of them!

The mother-daughter outing was cut short when the benevolent god saw someone Erika just had to become friends with!!

Erika still didn't know anyone besides the Queen family, so she couldn't miss this chance!

Alas, other Erika apparently didn't want to stick around. Ah well, might as well get some quality time with her other daughter! Better strike while Melody was still feeling good about the world.

10/10, guys.

They're so sweet! Melody probably couldn't've gotten a better step-mother if she tried. And boi do the Disney Princesses try!

It was nice for Melody to have someone she could always count on to talk to, even if Erika made one too many gross jokes.

They were the ones who kept the house clean when Ariel's upgrades didn't work out.

Ariel still wouldn't cook, but Erika made sure both her daughters at least knew the basics.

Though Cassie seemed to be headed more down Ariel's route, preferring cleaning the dishes to making food for them.

Thanks to Erika's interfering, Melody and Ariel were actually kinda bonding these days!

So when it came time to age up, no one was more excited to celebrate her life than her wife and step-daughter.

This probably wasn't the life she'd envisioned for herself all that time ago, when she'd met that random mermaid trying to drown somebody. But overall, not a bad situation to blow out some candles in!

Congratulations to Erika for being the first legacy sim to actually have an elder birthday!

That uhh... this does not seem like the best time to gain that particular lifestyle.

...oh. Good. Actually, that might be the closest we get to having Erika nearly marry the wrong person. Honestly just didn't have the time for that on short-lifespan, since she didn't even meet Ariel until late adulthood.

[starvingtongue]

002.   a cabin in the middle of the woods . – for Zeph, from Farkas!

@decidentia / @wolfbrawn

damp. she felt damp, she smelt damp, she was damp. usually she didn't mind the rain or snow, having grown used to both by living in Winterhold for so long, but there came a point where it started to become frustrating. and that was when her clothes become damp. they'd gotten caught in some sort of freak thunder storm that had driven them deeper and deeper into the woods. Zephyr's cloak hadn't done much to shield her from the fat drops of rain that had hammered through the trees. her companion hadn't seemed to mind the fact that he'd been rained on, or if he had, he'd hidden it well enough for her not to notice. she'd heard rumour's that the wolves were naturally warm. that the cold didn't bother them and neither did the rain. that they could walk in front a thunderstorm and be dry in an instant.

she was wondering if there was some truth to that rumour now.

if she weren't so far from home or an inn, she wouldn't have minded. heck, if she was here alone, she wouldn't have minded. she would've happily stripped off, hung her clothes in front of the fire and reveled in bed for the morning. but the sad reality of the matter was that she had company.

she was half tempted to set herself on fire just so she had an excuse to leave quicker.

she couldn't even pretend to like the company she had. she had grumbled about it for a bit, making her displeasure known, but it was clear neither of them was leaving the cabin before the storm passed. they both knew what the other was, so why pretend like she enjoyed his company? he smelt like wet dog and it was a smell she would never get used to. even the deliciously salty smell of blood couldn't tempt her. she would literaly rather drink the blood of a diseased rat before she considered drinking his. all the werewolves she'd had a run in with in the past had tried to kill her. she was surprised he hadn't taken the chance to off her now either.

with a huff, she finally broke the awkward silence that was surrounding them. (maybe it was only awkward for her? he didn't seem that bothered by her company.) "Well, it looks like we're going to be here for a while." an obvious observation, please don't let him make a snarky comment. "And if we're going to be here for a while, we might as well eat something, right?" for her it would most likely be one of the blood vials she kept on her person, but the act of cooking could sometimes be therapeutic. she sometimes ate normal food anyway, just because she missed the taste of it. it provided her with no nutritional value, but it was nice all the same.

"I thought I saw an herb garden out the back. Mind grabbing me some of the leeks and carrots out there?"