#a sad picture of a red sky

[fictionadventurer]

🌠

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.

And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.

Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”

Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…

Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.

He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.

For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.

Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”

So he just keeps hugging back.

Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.

“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.

Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.

Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”

Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.

Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”

Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.

“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.

It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”

For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.

Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”

And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.

Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.

And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.

He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.

Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.

“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.

Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.

And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.

[drcranessweetestdoe]

heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house

[zwhoreo]

Hi! Can I request a fic where the fem!reader helps Luffy to deal with the trauma of losing his brother?

omg first fic after i randomly left for 2 months!! but im back to writing angst again im in an angst phase

also i ended up not specifying anything gendered for reader, hope that’s chill that it’s x gn! i mostly reserve gendered language for smut

wake up @nina-ya i finished the fic i said i’d finish 2 months ago

nightmares - luffy x gn!reader

angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

❕SPOILERS FOR MARINEFORD❕

summary: the trauma of marineford gives luffy nightmares, and you need to comfort him while he’s vulnerable and scared

contains: luffy in a distressing emotional situation, luffy is traumatized, references to marineford/ace’s death/timeskip

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy never used to remember his dreams. They were hazy and soft, they made him feel warm and fuzzy when he woke up, he would stretch and yawn and they’d go away so fast and so gently like butterflies flying away. And then he’d see you and hold you and kiss you until you were awake too, as excited to see you and his heart so warm and full of love.

And you were there to enjoy his dreams, he was a noisy sleeper who mumbled happy little thoughts unintelligibly into your neck, he would kick and pinch and squeeze in his sleep which you had to learn to live with because he couldn’t go to sleep without a hug and you’d be the one to give it to him all night. But he’d often end up moving and rolling around, tangling himself uncomfortably, protective instincts kicking in he'd get on top of you and lay there, starfish. When he awoke in the night he’d assume his most comfortable and close position with lazy kisses. He was so, so happy every night.

That was two years ago.

He’s still the same boy he was then, still giving you all those awkward little affections during the night that you missed so much while you were away. But now there’s more. Now, sometimes, he has nightmares. Awful ones that torment him every so often and make him upset and sad when he awakes in the dark, make him begin to cry when he realizes you aren’t in his arms anymore. You always pray for nights when he’s calm like he used to be, you make sure to massage him and kiss him as he falls asleep to coax those good dreams back and help him heal. Of course those years ago he’d get upset and scared and sometimes he wouldn’t feel well when he woke up, but that was so rare, that was when something bad had just happened and he was very stressed but it was so rare because he was so, so happy.

Luffy’s happy now, too. He hasn’t changed much, really, still an excitable, bouncy kid, always smiling, but now you have to worry about the night. You have to worry about dark thoughts and memories bubbling over when he’s most vulnerable until his body shakes and even your affection is barely enough. This is terrible for you, so unbearably terrible. You have to learn how to soothe something broken, something you love with every fraction of your shattered heart.

_________________________________

You’re asleep, a dull, unbreakable sleep, you’d curled up in Luffy’s arms when it was time for bed and you’d cuddled together and giggled and kissed until you both fell asleep in a joyful pile. Now you’re so content, you don’t even notice how Luffy had accidentally rolled away from you in the night, sheets all tangled up with you and keeping a distracting warmth.

Luffy’s dream isn’t bad at first. It’s the kind where you’re not quite there, floating above the world in just a dull picture, no sound or feeling or touch. It’s just the ocean, a bird over the sea. But suddenly the ocean is stone and the sky is fire and he’s disoriented, where is he? What’s happening? He looks at his hands and they’re red and he’s frozen in fear like you sometimes are in nightmares. He knows in his fractured, cloudy little mind that something bad is going to happen and he’s going to see that picture again. A thousand flashbulb memories are going to explode at once, in fire. In the waking world in bed he’s twitching and sweating and his eyes are shifting furiously beneath his lids, and you don’t know, you aren’t there to hold him.

Ace. Ace’s smile and his soft black eyes and they’re playing in the jungle together and running and running and now that’s gone, the fire’s back. It all happens at once, so much blood, holding something fading and dying. Heartsick over a goodbye. It’s one of those nightmares where you cry and scream so much and as loud as you can because everything’s happening to you at once, but you can’t make any sound, you’re just in a tidal wave of amplified agony. And that’s how Luffy lives in this moment, unable to make out much of anything except darkness and pain, shaking and overheating in his sleep.

But the anguish bursts all around him and then suddenly the fire’s gone and everything is quiet again and Luffy’s awake, tangled uncomfortably in the blankets, face covered in tears. He can’t catch his breath and his mind is full and blurry and empty all at once. Suddenly the darkness of the cabin is all encompassing, sickly, he wants it to be day again and for the world to feel safe and happy and oh, where are you?

Fear squeezes his heart as he tries to find you in the darkness, are you gone? He can’t handle being alone right now, he can’t do this, he searches with his hands in the dark and cries and feels the panic burning a hole in his stomach but finally he turns to his left and there you are. Sleeping. Despite all of this you’re still sleeping, curled up and breathing slowly, unaware and at peace. Luffy wants to wake you up so badly because he doesn’t want to be alone but he doesn’t want to worry you.

So he climbs into your arms and breathes you in. He buries his face in your chest and tries to calm his injured heart.

Biting his lip and shaking he tries so hard not to cry. He can’t bother you, he knows you’ll be sad and worried which he really doesn’t want. But his whole body hurts, he wants your arms to be tighter, he squeezes and squeezes begging silently for relief and for everything to go away but it wasn’t just a night terror it was a memory and memories don’t just go away. So he cries.

You’re stirred from sleep because the sound of Luffy crying is the worst thing you could possibly hear, a thousand of your own memories are brought back and some deep instinct is triggered within you, pulling you, you wake up immediately and the first thing you do is get on top of him and lock him in your arms, trying to breathe slowly so he will too.

He twitches beneath you, cloudy realization that he’s no longer alone. His arms are around you, fingers digging in, sharp pain, he’s trying so hard to make his tears stop as you hold him and stroke his face. But he’s a possessive, needy boyfriend who’s comforted by protecting who he loves. He sits up, taking you with him, he wraps his arms around you tighter and tighter and then his legs. He’s breathing heavily on your face, eyes closed, sad still but resilient. You’re pinned to him, unable to move, but you massage the tension out of his back and shoulders as best you can.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you whisper and he nods against you and holds you even tighter if that’s possible, “…do you wanna talk about it?”

So he nods very gently but he doesn’t say anything. His hands are twitching against you, scratching at your back in leftover desperation.

“Was it about him?”

Luffy leans against you, hopeless and drained, you don’t need him to answer so you just press your cheek against his and pet his hair. And his shoulders shake as he cries silently in your arms.

You rest there for a few minutes, unable to do much other than just hold him, and he whispers in your ear, “I miss him so much.” Which wets your eyes because there’s so much pain in those five words. His voice is breathy, far away.

“I know, Lu… I’m sorry.” You’re not good at this, you think. You never really know what to say because this goes deeper than words can touch.

Luffy bites his lips. He doesn’t want to cause you pain and knowing that he is, it’s just piling on top of his despair. There’s so many times he’s oblivious to how you’re feeling but when things are broken, when you’re in distress, reality tugs at the inside of his heart.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, fingers in his hair, you kiss his neck gently and the warmth is getting through to him, so gradually.

“I want him here. I just…” Luffy’s voice is breaking. And you taste fresh tears as you move your lips higher. “I miss him,” he says again.

“I know how much he meant to you. Hey, Luffy…” The slow rise and fall of your chest is slowly steadier his breath now. He looks up at you, that sadness in his eyes is almost too painful to handle but you look at him anyways, eye contact with something beautiful soothes his soul. “He’d be so proud of you. And how strong you are.”

He’s heard this before. Luffy sniffles, he knows it’s true but only so much of that can help.

“He’d be proud of you, because you never gave up, right? You kept going and you got stronger.” And you’re not talking about his physical strength, really. You tap the side of his head gently. “Up here.”

Luffy nods subtly, his tears are stopping slowly as he clings to the comfort of your words, his greatest comfort in the world is protecting people he loves, being there for someone. He’s still guilt ridden at letting his brother die for him but as long as he keeps living he’s living for Ace, honoring him, being there for him even if he’s gone.

And that’s what you say next, reading his mind. “What matters is that you’re alive. You didn’t let what he did for you go to waste, he’d be so proud of that. This is exactly what he wanted, yeah?” Your hands trace circles on Luffy’s back as you feel him relax very slowly.

“I’m so happy you’re still here,” you whisper right in his ear.

“Mhm…” Luffy’s lips find yours, hovering, just touching you. “I’m not letting you go, ‘kay?” His words are so deep and genuine. There’s heartache there but an impenetrable love, most of all. His arms are flexed around your body, he’s squeezing you and it’s almost uncomfortable but you have to let him right now.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You manage a smile which makes him smile too.

It seemed impossible for Luffy to get even more loving but he definitely was when you saw him again. You’re the one who’s getting it all, all the affection he wanted to give to his brother.

“You wanna hang out for a while?” You offer because you’re scared to let him sleep again. “It’s ok to stay up. If you’re tired tomorrow I’ll take a nap with you.”

He likes that idea. Maybe you’ll get something to eat, even take a walk on the deck if it’s not too cold. He just wants your company. He wants to spend as much time with you as he physically can to make up for everything and to show you how much love he has to give.

“I love you, mh, let’s stay up an’ hang out,” his words are quiet and gravelly from sleep and tears but what matters is he’s smiling now. He’s back to living in the moment tonight, and you’re his moment.

The next morning he’ll be completely back to himself. He’ll kiss you good morning but he’ll act like the night never happened, probably, because it’s nicer to be happy and enjoy the day. He has you, he knows everything’s going to be alright.

[steddieas-shegoes]

falling again

for @starrystevie's birthday. i hope your day is as stunningly beautiful as you are and that this super short thing is something that brings you some joy ♥️

cw: mild blood and injury | rated e, 18+, minors dni

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

nothing can prepare you for the moment you fall.

whether it's while walking, on a roller coaster, or in love, you can never truly be ready for the stomach-swooping, heart-stopping moment of realization.

steve's had this feeling plenty.

when he was young, he fell from a branch of a tree and nearly broke his leg. tommy rushed to get his mom, who scolded him the entire drive to the emergency room, claiming that he must get this silly adventurous side from his father. but the moment before he fell, he saw blue and green, the sky and the grass meeting together to make a serene picture before the pain blistered across his skin. even in the peace, he felt a sense of dread.

when he fell for nancy, it was much the same, but all he saw was pink. her lightly tinted chapstick, her favorite sweater, the notebook she always jotted homework assignments in. steve felt that softness pillowing his head as he dreamt about her every night, picturing a future that would be taken before he could even hit the ground. but even in his dreams, a blackness curled around the edges.

falling into the upside down isn't graceful, but it gets easier with practice. as he falls one last time, he sees gray and red, sadness and guilt and blood. it's all dread. it's all anger. it's pain and regret. and it's a fall he hopes is worth the nausea.

when he finds eddie, alone, sitting in a corner of a home he doesn't recognize, dust floating around him as a warning, he falls again. he doesn't recognize the sinking feeling, the sharp intake of breath, the moment when the world spins and gravity forgets to have a purpose. he focuses on saving this man who did everything to save the town that hated him.

he helps him stand.

"i can't walk," eddie gasps just as steve sees why.

his ankle is broken, much like dustin's was. it's bloody and angled wrong, a sign of weakness to creatures that surely lurk in the shadows waiting for any sound or movement of their prey. it wasn't obvious at first because steve was too caught up in him being alive.

"i can carry you."

and he does.

steve carries him for half a mile, meets up with el at the same spot he came through. no one says anything.

steve falls, but this time, it's into gold and orange and yellow. this time, he has eddie with him.

he doesn't think about that falling feeling again until he's sitting by eddie's bedside in the hospital. he's sitting in a chair, alone except for eddie asleep in his bed and the constant whirring and beeping of machines making sure he stays alive and heals, when he feels it. a turn of the stomach. a pull in his chest. a tingling in his hands.

the silver of eddie's rings catch his eye. despite being covered in dirt and grime from hell, the rings shine.

steve looks at eddie's calm face, his eyes closed as he finally gets to rest in a safe place and feel no pain.

he feels his throat tighten around an inhale, his fingers clench without his permission. his leg bounces.

he's restless and the only reason he can think as to why is because he's falling.

he doesn't say anything, not to eddie, or robin when she gives him a weird look, or dustin when he outright asks why he seems so jumpy.

he doesn't say he's afraid. he doesn't say that something is bubbling inside him, begging to pour out, make a mess of something that should be simple. he doesn't say that the reason he never gave up on eddie is because he'd already been at the top of the hill and there was no backing out now.

but he can't refuse eddie when he asks.

they're finally alone again days later, and eddie watches steve puttering around his hospital room, tidying up the mess the kids left behind during visiting hours. steve can feel his eyes on him, but doesn't look back. if he looks, he'll hit the ground, and he's been hovering inches above for too long to let it happen right now.

"have a seat, stevie."

"in a minute."

"steve."

eddie's tone tells him he sees him hovering above the ground. eddie's voice says that he knows the fall was hard on him, and that he knows he's trying to stay off the ground.

when steve looks at him, his eyes say he's ready to catch him.

when steve sits, the fall is over, and the coasting starts.

there's a corkscrew later, when eddie gets an infection and has to stay in the hospital for another week.

and another drop when he gets home and finds that the town still hates him, that his uncle was forced out of hawkins because no one understands what he did to protect them all.

an unexpected turn leads to their first fight, the one that almost had steve giving up on roller coasters altogether.

but eddie never lets go of his hand. he's in the seat next to him, holding tight, making sure that they can feel the butterflies together. even when they have to leave hawkins, and the kids, and when eddie can't see his uncle wayne for months, he keeps steve next to him. even when his scars don't heal right and he hates the way the one on his neck looks, he lets steve's hand cover his.

and when holding hands isn't quite enough, when they both have to freefall from a plane not knowing exactly where they'll land, eddie's arms wrap around steve, holding him so they can pull the parachute together.

when they find that the darkness is too much, they chase light with hands against scars, reminding each other that there’s still blood flowing in their veins. lips press against freckles and dimples, tongues trace imperfections that feel like a gift.

grips tighten against thighs, legs parting while fingerprint bruises are left behind.

they’re made to fit into each other, push and pull like the tide, giving more than the other knows how to receive. they take turns stretching each other open until they’re sore the next day, smiling to themselves and each other as they go about their day with a reminder of their night.

steve and eddie become steveandeddie, and just when steve thinks the roller coaster has reached the station and he can get off the ride, it starts all over again. every time is a new fall, a drop that he knows will just end in more pleasure and happiness and fun.

nothing prepared steve for this fall, not even the ones he had before. but part of the beauty of falling for eddie munson was the unknown.

[flyingcakeee]

Quite frankly, I'm tired of F1 social media admins, both F1 itself and teams, as well as F1 journalists and content creators with big platforms.

Firstly, for teams and official accounts, you should NEVER be unprofessional to such an extent that you are using literal chosen ship names in your captions, weird nicknames, or be posting bashful content without reason.

You are supposed to be representing the "Pinnacle of Motorsports" yet you post shit like this for engagement. It is okay if you post funny haha clips, but this is severely unprofessional and even inappropriate at times. I want to narrow down specifically Red Bull's Threads account. It is very VERY unprofessional and I genuinely thought it was a fan account that somehow got a badge but no, it is the actual account. Posting THAT when Lance's contract was renewed is super unprofessional, it would have been 100x better if you didn't even acknowledge it, you never even acknowledged Pierre's. On top, using a driver who is known to be close to Lance for that picture? Just fucking weird.

Content creators and big name platforms have this same issue too.

I'm sure we all have heart of Rocket Powered Mohawk or whatever that man's name was or the Red Flags Podcast, both which use their platforms to shame on drivers. (Said screenshot is in reference to Lance Stroll).

Funnily enough, we ALL know about what David Coulthard said about Logan incorrectly when trying to blame him for a rather minor incident regarding a parking job when it was in fact not his car, and FEW have heard of what Crofty said about Logan. Unfortunately, Sky Sports does this a lot and constantly has a bias, in fact most F1 broadcasts do and you're safest bet is F1TV which is extremely expensive.

Or when a reporter asks a very clearly inappropriate question such as "how do you feel being the slowest driver" to a driver, that is literally so fucking unprofessional that they better be praising god they didn't get a snarky comment from the driver in response.

By the way, this goes for drivers as well, using their platforms to slam a driver.

This incident in particular not only caused many people to rally behind Lance but also caused many to support Bianca for something so tone deaf and horrible that I can never support her personally.

This doesn't go out for drivers personal accounts specifically, especially when it shows off their personality (take Tsolov's 'cringy' video which not only introduced us to him but showed us that he was a kid or take Fernando's TikTok as a whole and there's plenty more examples), but when shit like this or that happens, it is super discouraging to even be a fan of this sport. Not to mention that for everyone mentioned above, they now have free reign to shame on any driver through their likes as Twitter made it private.

I get marketing yourself or your team or your sport or whatever out to people who aren't apart of your community, but you are very much pushing them or your actual fans away a lot. You lose fans who don't want to associate themselves with you anymore because you were unprofessional. I've found and blocked many content creators because how absolutely disgusting the comments they made were, and the sad truth is, it's only a handful of drivers who receive this on most occasions, but it's not limited to any driver and EVERY driver can or will receive it.

It's harmful and disgusting and disrespectful to those individuals and yet you post things like this and wonder why some drivers don't use the internet as often.

(P.S., Lance has been interacting at fanzones a lot this year, he had to step away because he was getting hate.)

[abibliophobiaa]

One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?

don’t you call him ‘baby’

steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]

——

There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.

Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.

“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.

His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.

Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”

He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”

Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.

You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.

“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”

Such sweet words — if only you had known.

He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.

But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.

Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.

He gets his answer that night.

Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.

Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”

He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.

“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”

Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.

Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.

The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.

——

He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.

“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”

“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.

Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.

“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.

The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.

“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”

“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”

“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.

“If you’ll let me.”

“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”

He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.

——

[sillyuin]

The ghost of you. (Part 1).

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

Genre: angst.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader.

Warnings: Break up.

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

You disappeared like a faint ghost.

Mingyu had started to forget you and that scared him.

Every day he woke up in the room where you used to share happy and sad moments. There was no longer the sound of your voice wishing him a good day, giving him a kiss before getting out of bed.

Your small office was empty, there were no longer any camera lenses on the shelf, memory cards on the desk, nor a bunch of candy wrappers in the trash, and the curtains were always closed.

He walked the same streets you used to walk together, hoping to see your back or catch the scent of the floral perfume he liked so much, but the days went by, and there wasn't a trace of you.

From time to time, Mingyu would sit on the couch with the phone in hand, his hesitant finger unable to press your name on the screen. He had already sent several messages, but none received a response, and none of his calls were answered.

One night he entered your office, opened the curtains and from there he saw the starry sky, the view was simply bright and majestic. "That's why you liked being here so much," he said to himself, taking a seat in the desk chair. "You had front row seats... And I never came to join you..."

Until now, he hadn't had the courage to check the desk drawers, and that night he decided to do it; you had taken almost everything except for a memory card at the bottom of the last drawer. With much curiosity and fear, he inserted it into his laptop to see what was inside.

As he went through the stored photos, Mingyu felt a mix of happiness and nostalgia that turned into a silent sob. The album was full of pictures of the two of you, from outings and parties, random sessions in gardens or inside the apartment. He found it hard to believe how distant those happy moments felt compared to the reality he was living now.

Setting the laptop aside, he lay down on the couch and rested his head where you used to sit. "I miss you," he closed his eyes, burying his face in one of the cushions. "Where have you gone?"

The sun was setting and the wind started to blow gently. You were heading home while thinking about what you were going to make for dinner, and without realizing it you took a different path. It wasn't a loss since it was a very pretty street with some interesting shops; however, there was a place you had paid little attention to until that day.

"There was an art exhibit, and I didn't know," you lamented to yourself. You were in the front door of a small gallery and outside it, there was a sign with information about the presentation. After reading everything, you glanced down at your wristwatch. "One hour remain… That’s enough for me."

There weren't many people left except for a few older gentlemen, and some students that probably were heading home from school. The place was spacious, with beautiful paintings exhibited on the walls. Some were well-crafted and others were quite simple, but all had their own charm. There were also a few sculptures, and you took the opportunity to photograph some that seemed quite creative to you.

You moved on to another room and there was a rather curious painting: three small canvases side by side, the background was white, and a red ribbon crossed them by the middle. You stood for a few seconds appreciating it in silence, then looked down at a plaque with some words.

"The Red Thread of Fate," you read softly, "...", but you couldn’t say the artist’s name.

"You know the legend, don't you?" said a voice from behind and as you slowly turned, he was staring there. After so much time avoiding him, Mingyu ended up finding you in the most unexpected way possible, or so you thought. "Hi, y/n," he pressed his lips together a bit and crossed his arms. "I hadn't seen you, have you been here long?"

"No, I just arrived," you turned to one side, trying to locate the exit. "But I was just leaving, so..."

"Wait!" His voice made you stop suddenly. "Sorry, do you have a few minutes?"

You didn't want to, you didn't feel like being there another second nor talking to him, but you took a step towards to face him, although your fidgety hands said otherwise. "What do you want?"

"I..." Mingyu sighed. "I just want to listen to you, that's all."

"Now you want to listen to me?"

"No, wait, I can explain..."

"Explain what?"

Your severe tone made him remain silent, as if he were afraid that by saying something, you would leave without turning around. The atmosphere was tense, very tense, and the fact that no one dared to peek into the room only made him even more nervous. Still, he made it to say something.

"Nothing I said that day was true," Mingyu confessed, his voice quite confidence. "I hurt you deeply, and I'm sorry for everything, you didn’t deserve that."

"You left me alone," you stammered. "You said horrible things and then left. Do you know how long I waited for you to come home?"

"I know it was a long time, I..."

"Until dawn," you interrupted, taking another step closer. "I ran away and took a bus at 3 am, because you never came."

"Honestly, I-I don't know what was going through..."

"Are you going to listen to me or not?"

Mingyu shrugged, tortured by all the words held at the tip of his tongue. He took a deep breath and nodded nervously.

"You left me alone," you repeated, your voice sounding fragile as if it might break at any moment. "I asked for your help many times, I told you I was very nervous about leaving my job, and when I decided to quit, you didn't support me."

"I was scared, okay? I was… Scared."

"I was the one who quit a stable job to pursue my dream of photography... But you were the one who was scared?" You looked away for a moment to calm yourself down, although that didn't help much. "I don't understand, what were you scared of!? Tell me!"

Mingyu was downcast, and after a few seconds of no responding, he murmured. "I thought you would go far away..."

" There are many jobs, but only one Kim Mingyu." As you said it, he raised his gaze to meet yours, thick tears were stuck at the corner of your eyes. "I wanted to live my dream by your side… And I still want to."

In the silence of the room, the only thing heard was Mingyu's faint voice apologizing repeatedly. Then you approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again despite the tears that ran down them.

You approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again. His tears were honest and very painful, almost as much as yours, but it didn't matter. All you wanted to do was hold him like you used to, before becoming a memory lost in the pictures.

[championofsanghelios]

Caps

Wind: -looking through a book about the heroes of hyrule throughout history.- "Huh...I just noticed something. We're all wearing caps in these pictures and drawings." Hyrule: -snorts- "I lost mine in a volcano." Legend: -huffs- "Ravio borrwed my red one...then sold it at an elevated price." Twilight: "I think I chewed mine up at one point..." Time: -raises eyebrow at him- "I hope you did that as a wolf, and not as yourself." Twilight: -sighs- "Duh!" -secretly lying, he was actually drunk and very hungry- Warriors: -flamboyantly throws scarf over shoulder.- "Get with the fashion, dweebs. Scarfs are all the rage." Four: "Nuh-uh! Hoods are where it's at!" Wild: "Yeah, Hylia's Chosen has a scarf, you're just a copy cat!" Sky: -sad sigh- "My cap got blown off during a loftwing lesson...never found it." Wind: -gasps- "Yeah, I lost mine whilst sailing through a storm one rainy night...linebeck wouldn't let me go looking for it." Time: -hums thoughtfully- "Malon took one look at my old cap and gear confined it all to storage. I've never been able to figure out where she put them." Legend: -rolls eyes- "So I'm the only one who wears a cap here? Seriously?" Twilight: -smirking- "Aw, you feeling special now, Cappy?" Legend: -glowers at him- "Say that again, wolf boy, I dare you!"

[faetima]

𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. .

. .your love had turned into ashes.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au, you n sunday are exes

the time of daylight in your day seemed shorter than everybody else’s—when their day was filled with sunlight, the sun had already set in yours, leaving nothing but twilight.

if you recalled your thoughts about him, even in the middle of the day, it would become night again.

there was no escape.

sunday’s words used to make your heart flutter, your neck heat up, your ears burn, your face break out into a grin.

now?

now those same words made you fucking furious. they made you want to kick and scream and cry and cry and cry. cry tears of anger of sadness of everything you had felt ever since he had left you.

it was winter. the temperature had cooled down outside, but the feelings between you both had only gotten hotter.

they had burned up. now only ashes of the darkest black remained.

ashes the same color as the roses you were coughing up now.

you dry-heaved, gagging up pitch black roses. the once sweet aroma they had carried, the aroma you had once loved, had now turned sickly. 

just smelling it made you want to hurl.

you coughed and coughed and coughed, black petals falling onto the floor. the stark contrast between the pure white of the tiles and the darkness of the roses made you dizzy.

no trace of sunday remained in your home. you had gotten rid of everything he had left—toothbrush, some random ass documents, pictures of him, everything. if your love had been a fire, only ash remained.

but, even if you had gotten rid of every memory of him, you still cried when you thought of him. 

your lungs and throat burned, begging for mercy. black roses—splattered with scarlet droplets—flopped onto the tiling, staining it with the same red they were coated with. the flowers shone underneath the blaring, almost fluorescent, lights of your house, slick with mucus and spit.

sobs wracked your body. your tears, salty and crystal clear, spilled onto the floor and the stupid roses, translucent drops of your misery.

of course, out of all people, you had to be in love with your fucking ex that had broken up with you.

fuck, you hated everything. you hated yourself you hated him you hated your feelings for him you hated how every single fucking time you looked out the window it was twilight you hated how—

another series of harsh coughs interrupted your thoughts, breaking you out of your daze.

it was supposed to be three in the afternoon, but, for you, the sun was setting and it was night again in your room.

—

you wanted to throw up.

sunday looked so pretty in all the photos you had taken of him. a gentle smile on his angelic face, his gray-blue hair a little messy but neat at the same time, his amber eyes soft with affection.

fuck, you wanted to go back in time.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to delete the photos you had of him on your phone.

god, you were pathetic. 

your love for each other had begun to crack, falling apart, so much so you were scared to touch the cracks in fear it would break more.

—

the once delicate adoration you had held for one another had faded away into bitter resentment, mixed with lingering feelings.

was there no pretty, happy ending?

—

you took shallow, shaky breaths, thorns piercing your lungs and digging into your throat as you spat out bitter black roses. your eyes burned with tears of pain and sadness, while your throat was raw from all the coughing.

you hurled another batch of the ugly fucking roses, barley able to breathe. black spots, the same color as the roses, danced in and out of your vision, making you dizzy. your room spun around you, and you clutched onto the floor with your trembling, frail hands.

it was harder to find him than all the stars in the sky. did he hide behind clouds? you couldn’t even see him in your dreams, let alone in your memories, now.

you couldn’t even see him in your future.

you gasped for air, eyes fluttering open and shut, lungs begging for mercy.

before you closed your eyes for the last time, you glanced out your window at the night and the emptiness left in it.

[starryinkart]

Hey so a bit of a possible crack theory:

So in the show, we’ve gotten three solver colors already, Red, which stands for Doll, Purple which stands for Uzi/Nori, Yellow which stands for the solver/CYN. But here’s something ALOT of people seemed to miss. After you rewatch the Season 1 trailer, you realize:

There’s a blue solver, most likely a blue solver holder. Hidden right before the infamous yellow of the solver we’ve come to know in the show.

If you watch the trailer, you also notice something else. Right before this symbol quickly shows up, we have a dialogue from N, running away from Uzi from the scene at the end of episode 2 and then him sitting in front of V being sad. But if you listen to that dialogue:

He says “We can’t be around the workers anymore V, we’re too dangerous…”

He eventually begins to hang around them again, but to me this line with the imagery is super important. We know from the most recent episode 7/8 teaser that N is the actual leader of the squad, most likely the strongest and most likely protected by CYN with her admin right before she was completely lost by the solver.

Through out the show, we see him confused at his own power at points, like in episode 4 when he shoots the arrow through another and catches them on fire, cracking the arrow board, proceeding to say:

“Did I do that?” All confused.

N obviously doesn’t know how powerful he is at all, but what if and hear me out, it’s not ONLY because he’s a Disassembly Drone?

We know that CYN blocked the solver from having access to him, V and J to most likely protect them from the fate the solver has for drones who are infected. She didn’t want the same thing happening to N, her brother, who she loved and his friends which he cared about and most likely she cared about before she was taken over completely.

But now, Uzi has unblocked them from being protected from the CYNs admin, which was presumably protecting the squad from the affects of possibly getting the solver, (under the assumption CYN was bad in general) by becoming their administrator. If Uzi is their admin, and she gets taken over by the solver in general, that means that her admin code basically becomes useless to protecting N and the others from being infected too. And remember Tessa found them in the dump and repaired them as well, like CYN so they have a high chance of contracting the solver since they were also disposed of incorrectly.

So here comes the point of this picture that was released as a teaser yesterday:

It’s N, looking down, whether at something or just on the verge of having a breakdown and losing it we are uncertain, but from the posture, the balled fists, he does NOT look okay at all.

The first thing yours eyes are drawn to are the building split in half in front of him, the exoplanets in the sky and N. But, on a more closer look, you see two things:

1. The snow flakes on the bottom left have a ominous blue tint to them, which should only happen if blue light is reflecting off of them…

2. If you didn’t notice on the first look, N has the same blue light, coming from right in front of him. Perhaps maybe the same color as this blue solver symbol we have yet to see with some weird lines and curves jutting out from the sides…

At first, I thought Khan would be the blue solver holder at the beginning of the series, being a surprise twist for him to have activated in him he was so afraid of due to him possibly seeing it with his wife Nori. Honestly while that would’ve been cool, episode 5 debunked this possibility, since Khan was flung out of the room by Doll when she was attempting to get the cyber bug from Uzi. Solver owners can’t effect other solver holders as proven from the series, it can only use items around them to throw or hurt them.

We haven’t seen N be affect by the solver once in the present time or in the flashback of episode 5.

Now I do know the merch video came out today, but it was stated in the video that

1. “It was totally not canonical to the series what so ever” which I HIGHLY doubt. Most of the merch and videos we have seen have been canon and it seems as though the characters have been pulled aside between episodes to “film” these fourth wall breaks.

2. The fact that the title of the video “N’s Final Form” and the thumbnail are most likely not just a joke. Notice his acrylic stand teaser from V’s acrylic stand released recently:

When I first saw this, it looked SUPER weird. Me and my significant other said it looked like N and we thought the two things in the foreground of his body were his wings, meaning he was looking away from the viewer of the stand.

But then we looked closer and I started looking at my King Solver N design you can find in the murder drones link in my FAQ and we drew a more accurate picture of what we were seeing. N was not looking away from the viewer, all the characters are looking at us, and it would be weird to have N be different. So this is what we came up with:

W stands for his wings, T stands for where his tail is, L stands for his legs, F stands for his face and H stands for his hands.

His hands look a-little weird don’t they?

Remember this:

It was mentioned some where on Tumblr that this looks similar to the cocoon that Uzi broke out of in Episode 4 when she transformed into her solver form only N is being dragged in. This is obviously a biomechanical phenomenon of the solver. But why is he being dragged in?

To have his “final transformation” , a “final form” you may say?

The only thing is, after Uzis transformation, is when the solver really started to gain power over her, taking control of her as seen in Episode 4 and recently in Episode 6. As soon as she became biomechanical, the solver gained more control over her.

(Edit: sO this cocoon theory was wrong, but his emotions can still spill over and cause this!!! So its not fully wrong yet!)

Now think of the scene above and what happened to Uzi in Episode 4, but with N. N gets dragged into this cocoon, fighting but not able to escape, while Uzi is fighting inside her mind with the real solver, posing as CYN in the mansion as Uzi is trying not to lose her mind. While she’s stuck, N has his transformation, now not able to be protected by CYNs administration since Uzi is now the administrator of him and V, so he undergoes the transition, the solver not having much to fight against converting him to a biomechanical creature like Uzi. This gives it more power over N, and gives it a chance to take advantage of the situation to bury itself into N’s code, making his solver string: true. Now N has the same thing inside him that has possibly taken everything from him.

After this, he either gets possessed fully and goes on a rampage or the possession is slow, painful after he manages to escape the cocoon and get to the surface. Either by this point Uzi is still fighting in her head and N thinks she’s fully gone or dead OR she has successfully fought the solver and is looking for N. All his repressed emotions, everything that has happened, everything he’s lost…it’s all become too much. He snaps, lashing out on whatever is in front of him, this being the building we see in half in the teaser from yesterday. Before he can stop himself, he angrily swings toward the building, but instead of a sword, his gun or his claws coming out, there is this fleshy, gross growth that emerges, a blue solver symbol appearing in front of him and shooting towards the building, snapping it in half like a toothpick.

There is a moment of either him stopping in pure panic due to this OR his panic, sadness and fear turns into full on anger, him not able to repress anything anymore, taking a turn into a full on uncontrollable breakdown. The reason he had to repress his emotions for all this time, for fear of lashing out and hurting the ones he cares for. But now, as far as he knows, no one is left to care for. After all in the merch teaser today Uzi said really sarcastically:

“You’re meant to be better than us! Don’t become swallowed by the darkness/animal based merchandise (murders) like I have!”

And

“HIS EMOTIONS… CAN NOT BE CONTAINED!”

(which can be very much true)

This could end in either him being used by the solver as a host or Uzi coming back to help him and in turn as he said in the teaser:

“Okay I’m back! I’m better and it’s even deeper down now….haha! “ (basically his repressed emotions being repressed further for an even worst breakdown in a season 2)

That’s one turn it could take, but another could he that when he stops from pure panic due to what he’s become, similar to Uzi, and in the merch trailer today, and realizes he can use his newfound powers to save the ones he loves that are either left alive or find another way to fix what has happened.

(Someone mentioned on here that N’s solver powers could be similar to Time-travel to places he’s been to in the past, (like Dolls in teleportation to only places she has seen and Uzi doesn’t really have one yet, she’s not that far along in development of her solver) to go back and correct what mistakes he has made, fixing the timeline and THAT would be super cool if he does think he has lost everything or really has. If it ever find it on here again, I will tag it.)

Sorry this was SO LONG, but basically, N will have the blue solver due to the final two episodes and he will get a transformation like Uzis, having him grasp the thing that has basically ruined his life several times over being apart of him now, having to use it to save his loved ones. All the while not having a mental breakdown or angry blowup and losing control of his powers. So basically affecting the story and his choices greatly.

[strongheartneteyam]

Get your shit together so I can love you.

Pairing: human!jake sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, so angsty, established relationship, MIGHT BE TRIGGERING for some audiences, disabled person feeling insecure about their body, fluff, crying, yelling, cursing, sexual language, hurt, comfort, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, foreplay, mentions of fingering, jake touching reader's pussy. Please, tell me if I'm missing something 🥲

Author's note: This AU is set on 2009. Jake is just a regular 24 year old former marine who ended up losing the movement of his legs permanently after an unfortunate accident that happened while he was fighting for his country, amidst a terrible, unforgiving war. The reader is a 21 year old regular human girl. There is no sci-fi or aliens involved. I totally understand if it's not your cup of tea as it's almost not canon at all to the Avatar Universe. I guess I just kept most stuff canon to Jake as a character. As I said, it's an AU. Just call me Miss Marvel and call this a version of Jake that exists somewhere in the wide multiverse 😂 guys I'm way too sleepy and exhausted that I'm starting to sound a bit drunk... gonna shut my piehole up now. I hope you guys like it. ✨ I need to sleep ughhh ✨

Not proofread. Sorry, my babies, momma is always too tired n running low on time.

❃

I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

Renegade (Big Red Machine feat Taylor Swift)

❃

You walked to your boyfriend's house, watching the starry dark sky above. It was a full moon night, its pale light bathing your skin as you thought about how you missed Jake. You had just gotten back from a family trip yesterday and hadn't had time to go over to Jake's house to see him yet. You were so anxious to see his face again that you didn't even bother to call him to let him know you were about to come over.

When you got there, as soon as you opened the door with the copy of the keys Jake had given to you, you saw a miserable looking man sitting on a wheelchair, staring at the wall, eating a burger and fries and drinking beer. You swore to God one day you'd slap his hand and tell him to eat healthier. He ate junk food and drank way too much. His face was grumpy and a little sad at the same time. But it was your Jake. It didn't matter to you that he always looked like he was done with everything, he was so freaking handsome and charming, so, you could get past his moodiness. At the end of the day, you loved him so very deeply it made you feel like there was not enough space for so much love inside your body.

"Hey, babyyy!" You say, locking the door behind you "Sorry for not calling before coming over. I'm gonna stay the night, okay? I missed you so much..." You walked towards Jake and kissed his warm cheek, leaving the keys on a piece of furniture nearby

"Hi, baby. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back here with me." He smiled at you. That was the first time he smiled, in a truly happy way, that night. You were the light of his life, he always felt better when you were around. He had missed you like a mad man, especially at night, when he looked at pictures of you/the both of you together on his black laptop. "And I gave you the keys for a reason. No need to say sorry. It's not like I go out on Wednesday evenings anyway.. Or any night of the week" He laughed in sarcasm. "I'm always here at this time." You laughed a bit and he took another bite of his burger

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, ok? Be right back" you said loudly as you walked to the bathroom

The day you and Jake had decided to be in a serious relationship, after you let the words "I love you" slip off of your mouth, by accident (you didn't even know if he crushed back on you, let alone reciprocating your feelings), Jake was so insecure, thinking you were just playing him, that it took him one week after that happened to finally say "I love you" back. You were getting sadder and more impatient as time passed. When he finally did, it was through texting. When you saw the message in your cellphone screen, your heart raced like a wild horse in a big forest.

ত

Later that night, you and Jake were cuddling, half sitting, half laying on the couch. Jake watched a movie on the television as you tried to read a book. But your attention span was equal to zero. You felt your boyfriend's warmth beneath your body, so comforting, so inviting. You wanted him so bad. You two had been together for almost one year and no sex had ever happened. You were starting to think that maybe he didn't find you that attractive, after all. That thought was like a rusted knife digging into your heart.

You closed your book since you couldn't go past the same sentence you were reading and re-reading all over again, too many times.

You moved your body from where it was and sat on top of Jake's legs, straddling his lap, taking him by surprise. He looked at you wondering why you suddenly gave up on your book if you had been bugging him for months about how bad you wanted to read it, but, you preferred reading a physical copy, as you told him, so he bought a copy for you that he found on sale just so you could stop talking to him about the same thing over and over. But he was actually just kidding, inside his own mind. He bought it for you because he knew you were gonna get really excited, just like a little child, and thank him by showering him with kisses. He loved being kissed by his pretty girlfriend.

"The book wasn't interesting enough, babe? Weren't you dying to read it?" He chuckled and then smiled, placing his big, warm hands on your thighs, making the small, thin hairs of that part of your body stand on end

"I just can't concentrate right now. That's all..."

"Is everything alright?" He noticed the angst in your expression

"Jake... We've been together for almost one year now, and... we haven't had sex yet. Don't you... don't you feel the need to do it with me? Do you still feel attracted to me? Why do you never try to initiate anything other than kisses and caresses? You've never even tried to touch my boobs... and you told me you loved them, over texting"

"Wait, slow down a bit" Jake asked of you and you stopped to breathe a little "Of course I feel attracted to you." He put a small lock of your hair behind your ear, so he could see your beautiful face better "I want you so bad... so fucking bad, you got no idea, girl. You drive me insane, my girl. I can't resist you when you're sitting on my lap like this" He caressed your face softly, light blue eyes staring at your own

"Then don't. Don't resist me. You don't have to. You just have to let me kiss you and touch you and show you how wet you make me, without even doing anything crazy, just by touching my skin like this and letting me sit on your lap."

"Baby, I...I can't" Jake looked down, sadness clouding his beautiful face. You hated to see your boyfriend like that. Why didn't he realize he didn't need to be so insecure? You loved him, all of him. No matter how badly he always talked about his legs or the fact that he couldn't do even basic day to day activities easily, because of his disability, you didn't care. You loved him. Freaking loved him to death.

"Why not?!" You were desperate for an explanation

"I could never be all you need. I wish I could but that's wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, (y/n)."

Your eyes got filled with tears and you felt a lump forming in your throat. It was like your chest was sore, bruised from his harsh words.

"You are all that I want! All that I need, Jake! Why can't-"

"Don't make it harder than it already is, (y/n)!" The blonde guy interrupted you, his words colder than ice, burning your skin, already so sensitive from from taking all the hurt Jake was causing you by not letting you just simply love him right, be his girlfriend... "Get off me, please." So freezing cold...

You were a crying mess already, so, you felt so weak you just obeyed him and stood up, leaving him free from your body. Jake transferred himself from the couch to his wheelchair as fast as he could. He then started wheeling himself away from where you were

"Please...Please!" You say, chasing your crazy boyfriend like an idiot, while he moves his wheelchair fast towards his small room "stop being so insecure and just lemme love you." Jake stops, his freckled pale arms turning the wheels around so he could look at you

"Why do you insist on being tied down to a cripple?! Don't you get it?! You are so, so damn beautiful, (y/n). Your smile, your hair, your body... Jesus, your fucking body... You're so hot. You deserve... a man who can give you all that a relationship can offer. I can't be that man. I will never be him. I'm sorry you don't get it, but it's time for you to move on!!!" He yelled. You've never seen Jake so angry. His face was red, his eyes were gleaming, tears starting to roll down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking in a billion little pieces. He'd rather go through war, become traumatized and then have his spine injured all over again, because, honestly, it would hurt him less than what he was doing to you right now. But he knew he had to do it. "I love my (y/n) so much, I always will. But she should be happy, free from me." He thought

"Stop running away from me, Jacob Sully!" You ordered, as soon as you catch up to Jake, getting inside his room, your breath heavier than normal "I'm warning you, I will take you in my arms, no matter if you say you're too heavy, and I will lay you on this bed, against your will, if that's what I need to do so you will stop pushing me away! And don't ever call yourself a "cripple" again! I swear to God, you're testing me tonight! I won't let you speak like that about yourself. Never again! Do you understand me?!" You almost screamed

Jake sighed heavily, in defeat. With both arms, he started to support himself on his wheelchair, moving his body to the bed.

One he was settled there, sitting down with his back against the cushioned bed frame, he spoke: "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that... it was wrong. You don't deserve that. Please, forgive me." Looking at you with those eyes he had you on your knees, every single time.

"It's okay..." You looked hurt but your forgave him. You wanted to try and forget that had ever happened.

"I love you... so much."

You gazed at him and felt a need to comfort him

You sat on his bed, beside him and held his hand. After some time, you and Jake were cuddling, you sitting on his lap. He brought his mouth to yours and kissed your lips. You missed his kisses so much that you got wet so easily, just like a virgin would.

Jake grabbed the back of your head with care and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to massage yours. The way he kissed you was leaving your lips slicked with his saliva. You moaned and he held tight on to your waist, heavy breathing, his warm breath colliding with your own, the two of you getting drunk on each other. His lips were crushing against yours and that felt so amazing.

Out of nowhere, he stopped the kiss and when you tried to kiss him again he gently pushed you away, seeming uncomfortable.

"I gotta stop, baby... I can't pleasure you more than this..." he looked defeated

"Of course you can. You have fingers and a mouth, don't you? Then put them to use, baby. Your girl is begging you to pleasure her. Don't you want to help me out a bit?" You started to kiss his neck gently but sloppy. You breathed his scent in. It was so familiar, so comforting to you. He smelled like home. Home, for you, was wherever Jake was, right by your side.

Jake was starting to slowly give in and he let out a breathy moan. You felt happiness creeping in your head, your heart beating faster.

Jake did something that in his mind, was so damn bold. He dared to touch you in a very intimate way - he was as nervous as a teenager having his first sexual experience - moving his hand from the bed sheet until it got to your entrance. Jake's breath faltered as he touched your coated folds gently, his chest tightening while he looked at your face. His light brows furrowing, his demons still trying to convince him that you could not be turned on because of him.

"Sweetheart, you're so soft... just so... so wet." He was getting shaky, aroused as hell, feeling how wet you were for him

He was finally ready to just relax and enjoy the moment, as he touched your coated pussy.

"Wait a bit, will ya?" You ask, getting off his lap, standing on your feet and then stripping down to him. Your clothes were laying on the floor, as you felt a little shy but excited to see his reaction to seeing your naked body for the first time.

"Fuck, my baby. How did I get so lucky? Your body is so fucking perfect...." He put his hand up in the air, towards your own hands and you grabbed it and let him sit you back on his lap.

Jake started to touch your breasts softly, his mouth slightly open, desire scorching his insides. Your skin burned so good beneath his fingers. Then, he placed his big fingers on your slit

"God, this fucking wet pussy..." he was having trouble breathing but he loved the way you messed with his head

"I'm all yours, baby. Please, just let go and make love to me. I need you so bad it hurts me physically." You begged him to put an end to your misery

"Is that what my babygirl really wants?" He murmured, his voice low and sexy, ringing on your ears

"Yes, my love. Please... I'm so wet, Jake... only for you, my baby." You felt his fingers touching your pussy and your body became limp

"I love your pussy, baby. So velvety, warm and juicy. Can't wait to slide my fingers inside of you over and over again until you're all sweaty and whimpering"

❃

[sinnabum45]

Irony

[Image description: Colored sketch of Ace Attorney character, Miles Edgeworth and his puppy, Missle. They are sitting in the foreground and Miles is crying with a blank expression. Missle is looking at Miles with a sad expression. Miles' signal red keychain is on the floor next to him. In the background, there are hills with a road leading from the city to where Miles is sitting. There is a train track running past with a loop with a train on it. Behind is a city. There are balloons of different colors floating around the picture. In the sky, there is a hot air balloon.

Second image: Adult Miles is carrying a young Miles. Young Miles is crying while holding onto adult Miles' shoulders. They are colored with warm colors, but the background is a dulled purple color. End description.]

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

"You say to look hard for a solution, but wouldn't that depend on the person?"

I've been listening to irony covered by Lizz Robinett and I remember relating to this song a lot as a kid. So of course I drew it for Miles-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ Also, Missle!! 🥺🤲💕💕

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

ONE

Description: Delilah is on sick leave from her job and doesn't have much to do in the days. Her life has always been safe and a bit boring but everything changes when she falls in love with her best friend's dead brother.

Characters: AU Eric, played by Bill Skarsgård, from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+. I've stopped writing out specific warnings. All of my stories are 18+, have heavy themes and are NSFW.

Notes: This is really just inspired by Bill Skarsgård's looks and the atmosphere of The Crow, nothing else.

You can find the prologue here

Green eyes. 

Green, big eyes looked at me intensely but more than that I couldn't see. It was like everything around was eaten up by complete darkness but the eyes were its own source of light. It didn't look like they floated around like two planets tossed out in space, no, it was obvious they were attached to a face, but a face I couldn't see. I tried to reach my hands out to touch the face, the shoulders, touch something belonging to the person with the intense green eyes but I didn't succeed. It was me who was the one who was bodiless, or at least I didn't have any contact with my body. Was I paralyzed? How could I know? 

Maybe I was no substance anymore, maybe I was just the air in front of the person with the green eyes. 

Eric. Even if I had just seen his eyes one time in a photo I knew it was his eyes in front of me. The big, sad eyes. In that moment he looked at me with searching eyes, like he wondered who I was or how I was feeling. Nothing with his eyes were hostile. I felt seen. Seen for real, in that way you probably just get to be seen a few times in your life. 

××× 

I stretched out in bed after waking up slowly and pleased, like you do when you've got the sleep hours you need and didn't have anything that rushed you to leave your bed's warm sheets. I didn't even have Odin to think about because he was living with his dad that week so I could stretch a bit more. 

I left my bed when I felt hunger growing deep in my belly. I rose up from bed with a smile and on my way to the bathroom I started to hum an old kids song I hadn't thought about for years, it wasn't until I saw myself in the bathroom mirror I realized how abnormal my behavior was. I wasn't a cheery person and I was definitely not the person singing for myself. 

My cheeks glowed of redness and my eyes were shiny. It looked like I've been out running in cold, crisp weather. I looked healthy. I wouldn't say I had looked unhealthy before, just a bit tired and paler than others because I rather stayed inside in front of a series than walk out in the warm weather, but now I looked like such a person that did pilates in the morning. I smiled for myself but it wasn't until later when my tongue met the bitter taste of coffee I understood why. 

Green eyes. 

I remembered my dream I had and felt his eyes crawl into my chest and built a nest in one of the ventricles. My blood turned warm and shot out in my body and made my cheeks heat and even more flushed. It was embarrassing. It was really painful, sadly, embarrassing. 

I had seen one picture of him and now I dreamt about his eyes like they were two pools made of love and happiness. 

It was five days ago I was at Lotti's and saw the big photo of him together with my best friend Robin, his brother. Robin was always well groomed, clean and bright in a Instagram friendly way, his brother looked like the complete opposite. Tall, dark and scribbled with tattoos that looked washed out on his pale skin but he was beautiful. Robin was attractive but he didn't have that thing Eric had. As I said, I saw one picture of him but it was obvious his beauty was mysterious and dark, like a night sky in December. Robin was more like a morning sky in May. 

I had thought about Eric a lot since that day. I had stood next to Lotti and looked at the portrait in silence and didn't dare to ask anything. It felt like a religious moment when we stood there, like we had a wake for him and I didn't want to disturb her in her grieve by asking about his age or occupation. I was also a bit afraid I would say something that would confuse her. I had no idea how her brain worked after her stroke. She maybe would get violent if I asked about his death.

I left when a nurse came and said Robin was waiting for me but I took a last look at Eric's sad eyes and then turned my eyes at Lotti with a small smile: 

“Is it okay if I come to get the dress another day? I really, really like it but I have some things to do now so it would be better if I could pick it up next week?” 

Lotti nodded a little and then took my hand in hers: 

“Of course, Delilah. Maybe we can take a cup of tea then and I can tell you a bit about Eric? It would be so nice to talk about my boy.” 

It wasn't my plan that she would invite me to talk about Eric. I wanted to know more but my plan were just to be able to visit her again and ask some simple question. I didn't need to know much, just a few things I just wanted to know out of pure curiosity, he was dead after all so there wasn't much to say about him today. 

It felt strange Robin hadn't told me about him but I also knew how sensitive he was. If you got him to cry it took ages for him to stop. He had opened the faucet and they wouldn't close until he had cried out everything he had inside of him. He probably hadn't told me because of the wounds it had created in him and how talking about it would feel like putting needles in an open wound. 

That was why I didn't tell him that I went to his mom two days later. He didn't need to know we would talk about his brother's death. 

××× 

I rarely dressed up. It didn't really feel like there was a point doing so when I didn't have so much to do and the last two weeks it had been so hot I would have been most comfortable just walking around in a big shirt and panties. To meet Lotti again felt like a moment to pull on a dress tho and I chose one with care. I wanted to show her that her dress would get a good new home but also that I was a good, reliable friend to Robin and someone also she could trust. I thought about bringing something with me that we could have to the tea but the time disappeared, I couldn't say where but it probably had something to do with the green eyes staring at me from the inside of my chest. 

I hoped it would be okay the time I had picked to go to her. It was a Wednesday, 10 am. It felt like a good time to come, she would probably have lunch by 12. I went into the entrance with the colorful birds also that day but had time to see more than that this time. It was a desk to the left when I got in, a simple wooden desk that didn't seem to be used so much because it looked empty. Behind it was a door to a smaller room. I could see a glimpse of a dask with a laptop. 

From the corridor from my left came a younger nurse in her blue scrubs and smiled at me questioning. 

“Hi, I'm here to see Lotti… Ehm, I'm a friend to her son?” 

The nurse stopped some steps from me and nodded a little. 

“I think you met Fiona yesterday… I will find her to see if she can let you in, we just want to know who's visiting,” she said carefully and looked out one of the windows at the yard, probably looking after Fiona. 

“Oh, sure, of course,” I answered and played with the voluminous skirt of my white polka dotted dress. 

The young nurse left and a few minutes later Fiona came back. She wore a smile then she looked at my ID and wrote me on a visitor list. 

“The morning have been a little rocky so you know… She didn't recognize the nurse who came into her this morning.” 

I nodded a little and looked around nervously but still followed the nurse to Lotti's room. I was more or less preparing myself for her to have forgotten me. 

“There is no real pattern in her memory, it can even feel like she remember new people better than us others,” said Fiona before knocking on Fiona's door. I didn't have time to answer before Lotti's round face peaked out from the door. She smiled brightly and gave my dress a big eyed look. 

“That's an amazing dress, Delilah!” 

The nurse gave me a pointed smile then she left me to Lotti. I smiled surprised at her and followed her into her apartment. 

“Thank you, you can call me Della, that's what everyone calls me.” 

××× 

“Della, Della, my Della…” sang Lotti sweetly while she looked through a big bag with her old clothes. I stood in her bathroom with the door a jar trying a skirt with big roses. I smiled a little for myself. I had a good relationship with my mom and would never complain on her but Lotti had a much more typical motherly way and made me feel like a child again. 

“I think the coffee is done now,” she said and I heard her light feet walk to the kitchen. I let my own dress and the clothes I've tried from Lotti hang in the bathroom and went to her little kitchen. She was on her way to pouring coffee in two green, ceramic mugs and I sat down by the table, still with her rose skirt on and a white blouse. I felt blessed being able to look through Lotti’s colorful 80’s clothes but I felt even more blessed that I would hear the story about her son. Her son, who had passed away at a young age. Eric. To my surprise and worry, Lotti left the kitchen after putting down the mugs on the table but came back with two photo albums in her arms. I felt my heart crawl up my chest to my throat and I took a sip of my coffee to try to cure the burn that had spread throughout my air ways. I gave the picture by the bed a fast look. I would know his story now and silently in my head I asked for his forgiveness. If he was alive it would be his story to tell, now his mother chose to share it with me, just like that. 

“Are you Robin's girlfriend?” Lotti suddenly asked while putting down the albums on the table. “I can get his albums too if you want to see? This is just Eric's but there is pictures of Robin in them too of course.” 

“No, I'm not Robin’s girlfriend… We aren't really ‘each other's type’,” I said, without going into the subject too much. Lotti nodded a little and looked at me with an examining look. Maybe she felt I should be interested by Robin's albums anyway but I weren't if I was honest. I wouldn't have been interested in anyone's childhood pictures in normal case but Eric… I looked at his photo again. It was hard to understand and even harder to explain. 

“They're so different from each other your son's… It's sweet,” I said with a little smiling, watching Lotti drag her fingers over the album, she continued to do that for a moment and I started to wonder if I already said something hurting. 

“Eric… Eric came to us when he was two years old. We had some problems getting more children and we wanted to do something good and opened our home for a foster child… We never thought we would start to love the boy like he was as much our own as Robin.” 

Lotti have me a sad little smile then she opened up the light green album so I could see little Eric in a woman's lap. He looked like any other baby but his eyes were bigger and looked into my soul just like he did on the other picture, just like he did in my dream. The woman were Lotti, in her thirties. 

“And you named him after your husband,” I said with a nod, like it was obvious. 

“No, no. It was just coincidence they had the same name but it was sweet, he didn't share our last name but he could share his first name with the man he would call ‘dad’.” 

Lotti's eyes got shiny but she smiled big. It was sweet, that Eric could be a part of the family, even by name. I felt my own eyes get shiny and Lotti took my hand in hers.

“I've talked with some of the nurses about him and they all got so uncomfortable but it feels like you understand. Eric was so special…” The tears run down her cheeks but she continued to smile. Bot of us looked at the portrait again then down at young Eric. We looked at every picture. Big, sad eyes looked back at us, even if his smile was bright. In his pre teens you started to see him change, his hair became black, a simple silver ring in his ear. The older he got the darker his appearance became and the green hypnotic eyes became framed with blackness. 

“Was this just a style for him, or was it something more?” I pointed to a picture of him sitting in the grass, looking away with squinting eyes and a spider web tattoo behind his ear. He was probably just eighteen or something but looked sad like a man meeting years of struggle. 

“Eric… We did everything for him. He was liked by everyone he met even if he looked the way he did but…” Lotti sighed and looked down at her hands. She still had on her wedding ring even if she was a widow. 

“We really thought we could change his faith… But his inheritance was rooted in his, much deeper than we thought and the depressive tendencies sneaked up on him even before his teens. He probably searched for the darkness because it was a place he fitted in… And then came the drugs… The same problems his biological parents had, that had made us be blessed with his presence…” Both she and I cried now and hugged each other's hand like we've known each other for ages. 

Drugs. As soon as she said the word it was also more or less obvious that was his murderer. I had never even met a person taking any serious drugs and I felt mixed feelings about Eric's problems. In some way I couldn't believe her, because the man looking at me from the picture over the bed looked healthy and strong but I could also see that intense sadness in his eyes.

“Was it the drugs that..?” I asked carefully  and dragged my thumb over the back of her hand. She just nodded and dried her tears with her other hand. 

“An overdose. We don't know if it was on purpose or not.” 

Both of us sat quiet, holding each other's hand. I could feel Eric's eyes on me and I think Lotti could too because she looked up at the framed picture with a smile then she browsed the pages of the album to the last pages. Their was newer pictures of Eric. A grown man, heavily tattooed but with the same eyes. It was more or less professional pictures of him, sweet pictures of him dressed in Adidas joggers and a loose tank top in a couch. He looked boyishly handsome even with the tattoos crawling all the way up to his face and down to his fingertips. I couldn't even count the tattoos in his face, so full of them was his skin. I thought to myself that he probably did them for the adrenaline rush, something to give his sad heart a kick but then I saw the picture of him smiling big. He had a deep dimple in his flawless cheek and straight white teeth. He looked happy, even if his eyes had a hint of something dark.

“It was his girlfriend who took the pictures and I'm really glad for that today. They were just taken some months before he died and she sent them to me.” 

I looked at the smiling picture again. He was in love. That's why his eyes had changed.

As a hairdresser I couldn't stop myself from furrowing my brows while watching his hair. He had a short mullet, something he didn't have on the picture by Lotti's bed. His hair in these pictures was cut in different layers and angles and I couldn't decide if it was made by an experimental hairdresser or a wild amateur. It didn't look so bad for being a mullet but it still was a mullet. 

Lotti giggled a little amused when she browsed to the next page and I understood why. Their was four pictures in the same style as the ones before but with another sort of Eric. 

“I thought it was odd she sent these to his mother but never would I put pictures of Eric away.” 

My cheeks heated when I watched the pictures of Eric in bed. He laid in just a pair of silky boxer shorts so you could see all his tattoos, both the good ones and the horrible ones. You could also see his incredible body. I never thought he would look like that. Everywhere it was lean muscles and defined lines. His abs were taken from a underwear model, his shoulders from a swimmer. I could feel Lotti's eyes on me and knew what kind of look she gave me. He maybe wasn't alive but he could still make every woman blush. I cleared my throat but continued to look at Eric, his body but also his beautiful face. 

“He must have been a heartbreaker…” I joked and put my hands on my glowing cheeks. 

“Oh no. No. Not my Eric,” said Lotti. “He was a shy boy. He probably knew he was handsome but he was still shy and didn't talk just to talk. Such a sweet, humble boy.” 

I looked at her with a warm smile. It was a sweet thought, especially because his brother wasn't at all like that. Robin liked attention and talked most often loudly over others. 

Lotti give me a smile and stood up. 

“I'm just going to the bathroom, you can continue to look in the albums,” she said and then walked to the bathroom. 

I continue to look through the albums. Cute baby Eric, him as a bit older doing martial arts, his style changes to goth but then changed more to an eclectic style. His green big eyes, the tattoos, the abs. He was magnetic in all shapes and I grieved in silence his death. If Lotti was right he was a great, sweet, shy guy that looked like that. If it wasn't for the drugs he seemed to be so wonderful. I was rarely impressed by men but this one… Why was he dead? 

“Excuse me?” Said Lotti behind me and I turned around. “Who are you?” She said suspiciously and pressed the emergency button so staff would come to her room. I heard my heart in my ears. It felt like I had done something wrong even if I hadn't. I had been invited in, she just couldn't remember that. 

“I'm Della, Robin's friend?” I tried and stood up. Lotti looked at me up and down. She didn't look scared, probably because I was just an ordinary young woman. It was nothing weird with me, I would even say I looked sweet and kind. 

“Robin's girlfriend?” She asked and smiled unsurely. 

“No, just friend.” 

Just when Lotti smiled and was on her way to answer, Fiona came in. 

“Lotti, are you okay?” Asked Fiona and patted her arm calmly. 

“Yes… Yes… When did you let the girl in?” 

“That was earlier, maybe you need to rest a little?” Asked Fiona and steered her towards the bed. She gave me a resurging smile and said lowly that Lotti needed to sleep a little. That was my sign I should go. I felt awful, even if her memory failed her often and I changed to my own dress. I left her dresses because it felt wrong taking them when she didn't feel well. I gave Lotti and Fiona a finale look and when I saw that they were busy I did the unforgivingly thing. I couldn't take the dresses but I stole three of the pictures of Eric. I took them out from the album and held them against my heart when I sneaked out from the entrance door. 

××× 

In the dead of night I walked. It was much darker than it usually was in May and at first I couldn't tell where I was. The anxious feeling of being stalked I've felt since my teens crept up on me and I walked faster, more determinedly even if I didn't know where I was going. Odin was attached to my hand with the leash, much longer than it usually was but I didn't feel that uncomfortable feeling in my hand when he pulled, but he did pull. He pulled so hard I could hear his strangled breath but he continued to try to run like he was in a hurry somewhere. 

I finally recognized the place I was in. It was in the park lying close to my childhood home but completely dark, otherwise it was lit up with light poles. I looked around at the familiar but also unfamiliar place. It was like experiencing it all again. The jungle gym, the slide, the silly lady bugs to ride and the swings. 

A tall dark silhouette sat on one of the swings with its feet dug into the sand. They swayed on the swing back and forth slowly and it gave it even more a spooky feel. I wanted to go back, go to my parents house but Odin had other plans and pulled so hard in the leach I dropped him. 

“Odin!” I shouted after him when he ran towards the silhouette. I felt my heart beat in panic, catastrophic thinking about losing him completely took over my head. Odin barked happily and ran up to the silhouette that stood up and bent down on its knees to greet the dog. It was obvious now it was just a tall man, a tall man with broad shoulders and his hood pulled up over his head. Odin greeted him like he was an old friend, in so much joy he didn't seem to know what to do with himself but the man took the leach in his hand and with just a light movement with it he got Odin to lay down in the sand and look up at him while he himself stood up on long legs. I walked carefully towards the man and got a stronger and stronger feeling I knew who it was. He was taller than I had understood and it was intimidating to walk up to him. He pulled down the hood of his dark hoodie and revealed his striking feature and the dark mullet. Suddenly one of the light poles by us was turned on and a warm, but dimmed light spread out over the park. It lit up his face and made me see plump lips and facial tattoos but also his most distinctive facial feature. The big green eyes. 

I walked up to him with a beating heart and felt the anxiousness and fear transform to overwhelming happiness to see him. I never thought I would see him but there he now stood in front of me, healthy and handsome. When I had come up to him I didn't know what to do and even Odin seemed to react to my awkward behavior where I stood looking at Eric like I had never seen a man over 6 '0. 

“I believed you wanted to see me,” he said with a shoulder shrug and a shy smile. He looked sweet when he lowered his eyes in a timid way but with a contagious, dimpled smile. 

Suddenly it felt like I was on a first date with a guy I already was madly in love with. Like when I was fifteen and met in secrecy one of my older sister's classmates to make out in the play house by the daycare. 

“Of course I wanted to, Eric,” I said with an embarrassed giggle and he looked up at me with those mazmirazing eyes. I giggled again just by meeting his eyes. 

He smiled and reached out Odin's leach towards me.

“Do you want to take a walk?”

 I looked down at Odin who just looked at Eric without acknowledging me. I gave him a smirk then I looked at Eric again. He was dressed in the black Adidas joggers he had in the photos with a black hoodie.

“I would love to take a walk but I think you can keep the leach…” I nodded down to Odin and Eric looked down too on the dog worshiping him by his feet. Eric made a low chuckle that warmed my chest and made me giggle. 

“I can keep it…” 

He looked at me with an embarrassed smile and big, boyish eyes. 

He may be a dead man but he made me feel more alive than any other man had. 

× 

[jobean12-blog]

Sunshine in the Dark

Pairing: Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 803

Summary: You share a recent dream with Bucky and he makes it come true.

Author's Note: This is another entry for @pupandkisasaesthetics aesthetics challenge! Thank you to the beauties @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting! HUGS and LOVE! 💕The picture I got is posted below. I know it's a bright a colorful picture but when I saw it this is where my brain went. I also love this pairing because it's not the usual love story. And you can interpret what he gives her at the break in the story any way you want- could just be cuddles, could be much more intimate...anything you like from him. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰 **Dream description is in italics**

Warnings: it's really soft and sweet with a tinge of sad but it's a happy ending!

PS: this is how I picture my soft werewolf!Bucky in human form. Just beautiful and beefy and that hair and the beard and YUM!

“Tell me what it is that has you smiling like that doll.”

You walk into his open arms, tucking yourself against his chest and resting your cheek to his bare skin.

“I had the most wonderful dream,” you sigh, your smile fading.

“A dream,” he muses. “Tell me about it.”

After you remain silent for some time he strokes your back, gently coaxing you with every brush of his fingers.

“The sky stretched for miles in a brilliant expanse of cerulean blue, devoid of clouds. And the sun…it was dazzling, blessing everything in it’s path with it’s radiant warmth. My skin was glowing as I soaked it in and a soft breeze caressed it just enough to keep me cool…”

Bucky looks down at you, grasping your chin between his long fingers as he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. His brow is drawn in as his thumb sweeps across the outline of your lips.

“And?” he whispers.

“And the sun’s golden rays danced across the water, turning it into a dazzling stretch of blue and green where each gentle ripple was transformed into a glimmering ribbon of light that sparkled and swayed.”

A single red tear rolls down your cheek.

His thumb catches it and he brushes it away, resting his forehead to yours.

“You miss it,” he states sadly.

“So much.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, moving to the other side to do the same before capturing your lips.

“If I could bring this dream to life, I would,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I know,” you answer, ghosting your mouth along his jaw and nipping lightly with your fangs.

Your lips continue to his ear, pressing a kiss just below before you run your nose down his neck with an inhale and rest your head to his shoulder.

“What would you have me do?” he asks. “Anything to have you smiling again doll.”

You fingers graze his forearm, the corded muscles flexing under your touch, then teasingly glide them higher until you reach his collarbone.

When you look up into his eyes, blue like the water you dreamed of, his lips twitch with a smirk and you feel the shift begin, soft fur growing beneath your fingertips. 

“As you wish,” he says, his voice already more of a growl.

The wind rushes past you, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. The air is rich with the scent of damp soil and pine and the light of moon filters through the entwined branches above, casting flittering shadows across the ground.

Suddenly, the forest opens up into a small clearing bathed in moonlight. Bucky slows down to a graceful trot, his ears perky and alert. Your breath catches at the sight before you.

“Bucky,” you whisper, slipping from his body but still holding tightly to his dark fur with one hand.

He stills and nudges you forward with his cold nose, staring at the cave entrance. You nod and move toward it, cocking your head when you hear a familiar sound.

You move slowly, taking in every noise and smell with your heightened senses. Bucky’s claws scrape quietly along the rocky floor, echoing off the walls as he follows closely behind and when you reach your destination, you stop dead in your tracks.

The scene is a symphony of darkness and light that unfolds beneath the soft glow of flickering candles and the light of the moon. There in the shadows the pool reveals itself, it’s water shimmering under the illumination of the countless candles surrounding it and an opening in the cave’s ceiling that allows the moon’s glow to infiltrate and bathe it all in a silvery glow.

The light flashes and glitters on the water’s surface, a mirror of liquid moonlight, moving with graceful fluidity. Every ripple becomes a cascade of sparkling diamonds, capturing the moonlight and transforming it into a thousand fleeting stars and each time a soft breeze floats on the air the candlelight falters, casting intricate patterns along the walls of the cave.

You whisper his name again, your voice breaking with emotion.

Then you hear him start to shift behind you, his bones realigning and fur receding. When you turn to look at him his muscles are still rippling under his skin, adjusting to his human form.

He strides toward you, his long hair brushing his shoulders as he bends to scoop you into his arms.

Your lips tremble as they brush his softly. “Thank you.”

He smiles against your lips and walks into the water, cradling you against his chest until you’re submerged up to your chin.

“You’ve given me everything,” you whisper, unwrapping yourself from his arms and spreading yourself out to float above the surface of the water.

“You are everything,” he murmurs.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @sebstanwhore @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @buckysdollforlife @late-to-the-party-81 @blackwidownat2814

[grapejuicestyless]

can you do a conrad fic based on sad, beautiful, tragic by t.s.?

Sad, Beautiful, Tragic.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is young, naive but not stupid. Conrad had made one too many empty promises for even her to continue believing.

My feet stood cemented on the pavement, stuck to the grounds that lingered in deadly details of him, but never us. Not now, not ever.

I felt like an idiot, showing up now, so late. A random autumn night in Boston. The streets in the city still bustling with life, longing for the scents of pumpkin spice and apple cider. The further into the suburbs you drove, the quieter it grew. The trees became plentiful, black streets becoming canvases of orange and yellow.

We weren’t right. It was obvious. Laurel reprimanded me for this, my great attempts to salvage what little we had left between us. A dwindling flame, a broken glass spilling wine across a pearl white table cloth. She called me a fool, too blinded by what I wanted to work so badly in my head that I refused what was being presented right in front of me.

His snide remarks with his school friends, all much smarter than I. They knew it. I was never a prodigy, a prospect, gifted. Each dig was minor, easily brushed away like dust on the pages of a forgotten story page. But Conrad always had a way with his words, a tongue that made even the kindest comments come out like daggers. Backhanded and cruel, aimed at the naive.

Gullible was never written on the ceiling yet each time he smiled and pointed I looked. I was a scarlet thread, wrapped tightly around his thumb.

When the door opened, Susannah greeted me with a sad smile. Her eyes spoke a thousand sentences, pleading for me to leave, walk away while I still could. But Conrad had promised, promised that if I just gave him one more chance it would be different.

And I believed him. I believed him because when I met him, he was a good man. Shy, sweet, observant. He was charming, and god he was always handsome. The Conrad I fell for never lied to me. If we disagreed, it was quickly resolved.

Now it seemed like each phone call was just another nail in the coffin. Another reason flying by, red flags blowing in the wind begging me to follow, to leave. It was walking on eggshells, fragile. I was clumsy and they broke. I sit alone in my room sometimes, phone beeping to its death, hanging off my shoulder and I forget. I forget all the reasons I am fighting, what I am fighting for.

But then he comes back, just like he always does. A vicious cycle. He throws daggers at my deepest hurts, freshest wounds to have the pleasure to watch me crumble within his grasp. And when I’m too weak to stand, he lifts me back up. Suddenly, my stomach aches, I want to throw up. It’s bubbling up my throat, the guilt is eating at me until I am nothing. How could I ever even forget how wonderful this man is to me, how could I ever want to leave? I wipe my memory of all the nights I spend crying on the floor. We never speak of it, what we’re doing, but the guilty look in his eyes tells me he knows. We both do. I sleep on the floor for another week, I can’t move. I am paralyzed by my heavy heart, a locket around my neck. It’s golden, decorated in whimsical swirls. A picture of Conrad stays with me always, I clench in my fist. I want to rip it off, watch the chain scatter. It weighs me down, I can barely breathe.

I am a good girl, I don’t fight. I stay quiet while Conrad fights himself. I don’t buy into his attempts to work me up anymore. I know that with him, with us, we are destined to see storms. I know better now that once they pass, the sky will clear and the tragedy of it all will fade away. So I wait. I always wait for that moment of clarity. I refuse to think when I’m so worked up.

It’s sad, and it’s beautiful and oh so tragic, the way we dance around each other. How hours ago I was standing outside his door, regretting my naivety, trying to salvage us. Now I sit in his living room, waiting for him with my legs crossed. The melodic ticking of the clock alerts me of the time. I’m cold, my nose is rosy. I let the house capture me in its warm blanket. A sacred place of safety, I smell Susannah, I smell my mother. I see Belly’s old pictures on the wall in frames and Stevens gifts to Jeremiah and Conrad.

“Y/n/n, hey.” His voice is airy, lips pressed to my temple. I didn’t even hear him coming in the deafening ringing of silence in my ears. My eyes shift to his face, but I cannot move.

“Hi Con.” My voice is coarse, tired. It’s so late, my eyes hurt from being open so long. His arms wrap around me as the couch dips beside my thighs. He’s so warm, so gentle now, I find myself drifting away again. Getting lost in the calm, I forget about how devastating the storm was. I haven’t even picked up all my discarded pieces yet. Somehow, I manage to keep giving away more and more, even now. I am not sure how I can afford this.

Our conversation is warm, long. He talks about school and I talk about mine. With us being alone, I miss any snide comments or judgmental stares. He is so much kinder without the influence of others. He is almost the same man I grew up loving.

“You’ll still visit me, won’t you?” He pleads innocently. The look in his eyes is genuine, I almost crumble. A sharp intake of air is stuck in my throat, my brain becomes re-wired.

I remember the sad looks from Susannah, the fights with my mother. I remember how disappointed Belly was when I left again. How Steven yelled and fought until I was gone. Everyone in my life sees it in a bad light and I still managed to miss it.

Suddenly the golden chain around my neck feels heavy again. It hurts my skin, it’s burning the back of my neck. I hold it in my hand, it’s still heavy in my palm.

“Y/n?” His hand is on my thigh, I can’t breathe. My chest heaves, my throat is burning. There’s a lump stuck in my throat. It’s expanding and my eyes hurt. I’m tired, I’m sick, I’m sad.

Standing up, his hands drop from my lap. I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at him anymore. I can feel my lip quivering while I suck in a harsh breath. My eyebrows are furrowed, fists clenched.

“Y/n, hey, baby…” He cooed at me, palm pressing to my cheek. I am inconsolable, irrevocably damaged. Too lost in our beauty to remember the tragedy, the sadness that defines us. That is us.

“Conrad, I’m leaving.” It comes out sticky. Quiet other than my sniffles and his breathing.

“You just got here, did…have I done something?” I feel his hands slip down to my elbows. He holds me in place son the carpet. It hurts, not because he’s holding too tight, but because his touch burns.

“No, Conrad.” My eyes open, I search his blue ones. I get lost in our deep they are, collecting my thoughts. I feel trapped.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. If I stay any longer I’m afraid I won’t ever leave.” His face is blank until it isn’t. It’s shifting, contorting into something that looks incredibly confused, pained.

“What, what are you saying?” His voice is less calm now, raising. Not quiet reaching the level of desperation I can see building inside of him already.

“It’s a cycle, Con, can’t you see it? We’re toxic and it’s sick because we are the ones letting it be this way. We fight but we never talk. You promise me you’ll get better but you never do! I’m tired of trying to be alright when I’m around you! You don’t make me feel good.” It’s off my chest, yet he hasn’t comprehended any of it.

“Y/n, please. We can work through it, right? I love you, I do. Please just, please. I love you, you have to love me. It doesn’t just go away like that, I love you.” He’s crying now. His blue eyes clouded in a dark overcast. He makes me feel guilty. All self respect I have is gone, and suddenly I’m back in his arms.

My head finds its place on his shoulder, I tuck my face into his neck. Not to be close, but because I feel to ashamed to show it after falling so quickly under his mind games.

Silently, I agree with him. Of course I still love him, I always will. So I stay, a fool who got so close, but remained so far away. He presses another kiss to the side of my head and tells me I won’t regret it. When I wake up alone in his bed, cold the next morning, I know I’ve been blinded to another empty promise. It’s so hard to stay when he’s mean, but it’s even harder when he’s sweet. So I pack my things quietly and leave. I won’t visit him at school. Not until he comes home will we see each other again.

Oddly enough, the thought doesn’t drain me. I don’t dread never seeing him for weeks on end. I don’t regret not choosing somewhere closer to get an education simply to be near him. I am relieved he will be gone. My heart keeps beating.

It’s barely a month before I’m stood back in front of him. Only now the carpet is cold cement and his living room is the train tracks. He is in Boston, he’ll never leave. He tries his hardest to get me to stay. He’s the nicest I’ve ever seen him. He’s persuasive, but in our time apart he doesn’t know I see it less as a genuine feeling from him and more as a twisted tactic of manipulation.

“We can settle down, we’re almost out of college. Just me and you and it’ll be great. If you’d only give us another chance.” He pleads, hands not yet on my skin, but he’s so close. I can feel his warm breath on my skin.

“I don’t want that anymore, Conrad.” I try to be kind about it, I try and blame my distance on myself. It is me who is trying so desperately to break things off. He’ll never know it was his cold heart that shattered our beautiful love. But it’s helpless, he won’t stop.

“Then we’ll travel the world. Y/n, I don’t care, I just want to be with you!” He tries again. Yet all his words are the exact same. He’s not even trying to understand me, I feel like screaming.

“No, no.” I reaffirm. I won’t look at him because it hurts me too much. I know if I look at him I’ll stay again. My chest is closing in on me, I can’t help but reach to hold onto it. My pinky grazes the same locket when I do. It’s dainty, but gorgeous. There’s stacks of photos within it. Mostly of Conrad, but a few of my family underneath.

“I’m not understanding, Y/n. I don’t get it?” He’s desperate, the train is coming. Once it pulls up to the platform, if he hasn’t convinced me one last time to stay, I’ll be forever gone. It’s the final fight, we can feel it.

“All we do is fight, Conrad. I can’t fight anymore. I tried to end it earlier and you promised me it would work out, it would stop but it hasn’t! And I can’t do it anymore.” My hands rest on the bends of his elbows. I hold him close, I look into his eyes finally, I want him to understand me, I beg for him to understand me.

“Then let me fix it. Let me make it better, Y/n. Anything, I’ll do anything I just can’t-don’t walk away.” My pleads are deaf on his ears. He doesn’t care about what I want, and it’s apparent now that he never did. He’s selfish, so he only takes. He wants me but he hates to have to deal with me.

“Conrad, stop!” He’s ranting, my voice is loud over his. A few people turn their heads. It’s so late in the evening, they’re only passing. Ready to go home.

My eyes shift around until everyone has gone back to their own business. The breath that leave my chest is heavy, harsh but quick.

“Please, Con. Please just try and listen to me.” My voice is breaking. Not because my leaving is breaking my heart, but because I am tired. I am tired of staying, of being so weak. I am wasting my youth on a boy who hasn’t matured yet. I deserve more, I crave it.

“There’s no amount of fixing either of us could do to mend whatever’s happened between us. We lost it a long time ago. And I’ll always love you, how could I not? You’re everything to me. But you’re not mine anymore, and I can’t be yours.” My hands slip from his skin to my chest. I try an even out my breathing, again I am reminded of my necklace. It feels wrong to still wear his picture around my neck when I’ve already let him go.

Unclasping it slowly, I let the gold gather in my palm. It’s warm from where it touched my skin. It’s rusting form how often it’s been worn, and my neck feels lighter. I ball up my fist, taking his hand over my other one steadily.

When he feels the warmth mixing with the coolness of the pendant, I can see him giving up. He nods, swallowing hard.

When the train comes, I wave goodbye to him one last time. He’s frozen, hand still holding the locket out and eyes still sad. I wonder how long he’ll stay there, I never see him move even as the train pulls away from the station.

………………………………………………………………………………….

The whirring of the train passing is accompanied by the occasional blowing of its horn. It’s deafening against the heavy silence that’s consumed me. There’s not even a crunch of a leaf to break it. Now that she’s gone, it’s settled in how I’m truly alone. I’ve blown it.

I wait for her to be out of sight. The caboose nothing more than a small speck in the horizon. The moon is high, the wind is chilling. It’s nearly winter in Boston, yet the weather is no where near as cold as my bones. I curl my fingers over her locket, bringing my knuckles to my lips, I breathe over it.

It doesn’t even smell like her. It’s a sad souvenir of pity. She didn’t want me, I’m certain she only gave it to me because she didn’t want a reminder of me either.

I stuff it into my pocket slowly, fingers feeling around the rough cotton of my pants. It sits snug at the bottom of it, right beside the long, handwritten note I prepared for her.

I knew I had my own demons, I know I was a mess. I treated her horribly, I gambled away our love. But this time I was serious. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to make it better.

My words meant little to nothing now. There were no amount of promises I could make when I was already too late.