#am i committed enough to try again for a better one? maybe. but not right now

[risaonda]

GEHEHEHEHE

[taurasiluvr]

I DON'T WANNA SEE YOU WITH ANYONE BUT ME / NOBODY GETS ME LIKE YOU / HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LET YOU GO? / ONLY LIKE MYSELF WHEN I'M WITH YOU / NOBODY GETS ME, YOU DO──BELLINGHAM⁵

how you can help palestine

★ been thinking about fwb!jude, blame ev for the filth you're all about to read.

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, minors dni. friends with benefits, smut with plot, p in v, unprotected sex, cheating (on r's bf), nothing too insane

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; i am sooooo down bad for jude, he's my husband. also why do 80% of my fics have to do with cheating ummmm

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 5.5k

you didn't really know how this arrangement had began, all you knew was that it was very much due to jude's very evident commitment issues.

okay, maybe commitment issues were a stretch. you'd seen how he treated his friends and family with unwavering loyalty. but when it came to relationships, there was always a barrier, an unspoken rule that he couldn't let anyone get too close. or maybe he just didn't want to ─ you weren't too sure.

it all started innocently enough.

you and jude had been friends for a while, always hanging out with the same group, always finding yourselves paired off in conversations or at the same end of the couch during movie nights. there was a comfort in your friendship, a kind of ease that made everything feel natural and genuine.

one night, after a particularly intense game and a few too many drinks, you found yourselves alone in his apartment. the air was thick with a tension that had been building for months. one thing led to another, and suddenly you were waking up in his bed, sheets tangled around your legs and his arm draped over your waist.

the next morning, you both agreed it was a one-time thing, a slip-up that wouldn't happen again.

but it did. over and over, until it wasn't just an accident anymore. it became an unspoken arrangement, a way for both of you to satisfy needs without the complications of a real relationship.

you knew it wasn't ideal. you knew that every time you woke up in his bed, you were getting a little more attached, a little more hopeful that maybe he would see you as more than just a friend with benefits. but you also knew that jude had his walls up for a reason, and trying to tear them down could end up ruining everything.

so, you kept going. you played your role, took what you could get, and tried not to think about what it meant for the future.

because as long as you had him in some way, it was better than not having him at all.

seeing him with other women was the worst part of it all. now you knew you didn't really have any rational reason to be mad because he wasn't your boyfriend ─ he was just... well, it was complicated.

you hated the gut-wrenching feeling when you saw him talking to a beautiful girl at a party, his charming smile lighting up his face in a way that made your heart ache. tt was a reminder that while you had a piece of him, it wasn’t enough to keep him from seeking out others.

you tried to mask your feelings, laughing along with your friends and pretending not to notice when he slipped away with someone new. But inside, you were screaming. the rational part of you understood that you had no claim over him, no right to be jealous. yet, the emotional part couldn't help but feel a sting of betrayal every time.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

one night, it got to be too much. you saw him at a club, his arm around a girl's waist as he whispered something into her ear, making her giggle. your stomach churned, and before you knew it, you were outside, gulping in the cool night air to calm the nausea.

when you had come back inside, your initial hurt turned into bitterness. now you usually weren't so petty ─ but if jude was allowed to go and flirt with other people, why couldn't you?

you sat down at the bar, finding some solace with the alcohol you were drinking. you knew your bait had worked when you felt someone eyeing you in your peripheral, a small smile on your face.

"hello,"

he had a slight accent, his voice was gruff and sent a shiver down your spine. you turned to face him, taking in his rugged features and confident demeanor. he was attractive, no doubt, and the way he looked at you made you feel a flicker of excitement.

"hi," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

he leaned against the bar, his gaze never leaving yours. "can i buy you a drink?"

you nodded, pushing aside the guilt that tugged at your conscience. "sure, why not?"

as you sipped the cocktail he ordered for you, you couldn't help but steal glances across the room, where jude was still engrossed in conversation with the girl. the sight fueled your determination to go through with this. if jude could have his fun, so could you.

"so, what brings you here tonight?" the man asked, his eyes glinting with interest.

you shrugged, taking another sip. "my friends told me i needed to get out, they say i've been stuck in the office for too long."

he chuckled, a low sound that made your skin tingle. "i get that. they're some good friends."

the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself relaxing in his company. he was charming and attentive, qualities that made you feel desired in a way jude never fully did. but even as you laughed at his jokes and flirted back, a part of you remained painfully aware that this was all a distraction, a way to numb the hurt.

as the night wore on, he moved closer, his hand resting on your lower back. you allowed it, leaning into the touch, craving the comfort it provided. but just as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear, you caught sight of jude watching you from across the room, his expression unreadable.

your heart skipped a beat, a mix of triumph and regret flooding through you. you had his attention now, but at what cost? you broke away from jude's gaze, your attention fully on the man next to you.

however, before you knew it ─ you two were interrupted.

"y/n," jude's voice seemed steady but as you turned to face him, his expression nothing short of intense. his eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"jude," you replied, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. the man next to you shifted awkwardly, sensing the tension.

jude's jaw tightened as he glanced at the guy beside you, then back at you. "it's getting late, let's get outta here."

"that's funny, i was just about to ask her that." the man spoke, a hint of amusement in his voice before he cleared his throat, noting that his commentary was certainly not needed.

you blinked up at him, your lips curving into a sarcastic smile. "why don't you go ask the girl who's been keeping you busy all night?"

"that's what this is about?" jude let out a huff, his gaze boring into yours. "jealousy?"

"oh, you shouldn't be talking." you shot back, your voice tinged with bitterness. "you’ve been parading around with other women all night. don’t act like you’re innocent."

jude's eyes flashed with anger. "i wasn’t doing anything different than what we've been doing all along. you knew what this was from the start."

"yeah, i did," you snapped. "but it doesn't make it any easier to watch you with someone else."

the man next to you awkwardly excused himself, sensing the argument escalating. jude barely noticed as he took a step closer to you, his frustration palpable. "so, what? you decided to flirt with some random guy to get back at me? i don't like pettiness, you know that."

you crossed your arms, trying to hold your ground. "no, not everything is about you. maybe you just don't do it for me anymore, have you thought about that? you're not everyone's ideal man, jude."

jude stared back at you, trying to process what you just said. "oh really?" he let out a laugh but it was void of the usual amusement. were you really trying to come for his ego now?

"really," you responded, standing your ground.

"so i don't do it for you anymore, is that right?" jude glared back at you as he walked closer, his tall frame towering over you. "what's it, exactly? cause i know you're not coming for my bedroom skills."

"bingo," you answered with a smirk, grabbing the drink from the table as you took a sip. "you're exactly right."

he let out a soft chuckle as his gaze darkened. "really that guy could fuck you like i do? nobody could fuck you like i do."

you felt excitement in his words, knowing you were hitting him where it hurts. and you'd hoped it'll pay off at the end of the night. "you really think you're that good?"

"i know it,"

"cocky, jude. very cocky," you purred, stepping closer to him.

the heat between you was palpable, the air thick with unresolved tension. you could feel the intensity of his gaze as it roamed over your face, down your body, and back up to meet your eyes.

"confident," he corrected, his voice low and husky. "there's a difference."

you raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "is that right?"

he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "you know it is. and i'll can prove it to you."

a shiver ran down your spine at the closeness of his body, the warmth of his breath on your skin. you set your drink down and placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your touch.

"prove it, then," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart.

jude's eyes darkened further, a predatory gleam in them as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. his other hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "i will, make you remember who fucks you the best."

you licked your lips, your breath hitching as his thumb traced your lower lip. "i'm counting on it,"

with a growl, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his hand tightening around your waist as he deepened the kiss. you melted into him, all the anger and frustration from earlier dissipating in the heat of the moment. his lips were demanding, his touch possessive, as if he was claiming you all over again.

your hands found his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more. jude responded by lifting you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the exit. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the electricity sparking between your bodies.

as he pushed open the door to his car and placed you inside, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new. something real. but you knew that was wishful thinking.

jude climbed in after you as he started the car and drove toward his place. the journey was a blur of heated kisses and whispered promises, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other.

and by the time you reached his apartment, the anticipation was nearly unbearable. he carried you inside, kicking the door shut behind him before setting you down and pinning you against the wall, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck.

"still think that guy could compare to me?" he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming over your body.

you moaned softly, arching into his touch. "no," you admitted breathlessly.

he smiled against your neck, his hands finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it over your head. "good. cause you’re mine, and i’m going to show you just how much you mean to me."

he carried you toward the bed, placing you down gently before hovering over you, his eyes burning with desire. you could feel the tension in the air, the electricity between you crackling with intensity.

jude's hands moved with a possessive urgency, trailing over your skin as if he needed to memorize every inch of you. your breath hitched as he leaned in, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

his hands were deft and skilled, knowing exactly how to make you gasp and shiver under his touch. clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the need to feel each other skin-to-skin overwhelming, leaving you naked. when he finally pushed into you, it felt like coming home, a perfect fit that made you both moan in unison.

"all mine," he whispered against your lips, his thrusts steady and deep. "don't ever forget that."

you clung to him, nails digging into his back as you matched his rhythm, losing yourself in the sensation. the way he moved, the way he touched you, it was like he was trying to prove a point with every thrust. and maybe he was. maybe this was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him, how much he needed you.

he pulled your hips upward, sitting up as he fucked into you like a starved man. his grip on your hips was firm, almost bruising, as he pulled you closer, thrusting deeper with each movement.

the intensity of his gaze bore into you, a mix of lust and possessiveness that made your heart race. your body arched off the bed, meeting him halfway, every sensation amplified by the sheer need radiating between you.

"god, you're so perfect," he groaned, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. the combination of pleasure and the raw intensity in his voice made you shiver, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

you were completely at his mercy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you, building higher and higher. his pace quickened, a desperate edge to his movements as if he couldn't get enough of you. you could feel the tension coiling in your core, your breaths coming in short gasps as you neared the edge.

"cum for me," he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

the command was all it took. your body tensed, the pleasure cresting in a powerful wave that crashed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. jude's eyes darkened with satisfaction as he watched you, his own control slipping as he followed you over the edge, his release spilling into you with a groan.

for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the aftermath of your shared intensity leaving you both spent and sated. jude collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his hold gentle now, almost tender.

"mine," he murmured again, his lips brushing your temple. "always."

you nestled against him, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "always," you echoed, the word a promise and a reminder of the connection that bound you together, for better or worse.

after that night, sex was how you fixed every little dispute you had. sure it wasn't healthy but sure as hell worked, he made sure you forgot all about why you were angry in the first place. yeah, he was cocky but it was for a reason.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

you still yearned for more.

you knew that was wishful thinking, jude was too focused on his career to even think about girls. you were the only one that he kept and you didn't know why, but you couldn't deny that it made you feel special, even if it wasn't in the way you truly wanted.

you were his escape, his relief from the pressures of his demanding life, and while you cherished the moments you had together, you couldn't shake the longing for something deeper, something more meaningful.

you often found yourself lying awake at night, replaying your conversations and encounters, searching for any sign that he might feel the same way. but jude was a closed book, his intentions unclear. it was both frustrating and intoxicating, leaving you constantly on edge, hoping for more but never quite sure if it would ever come.

one evening, after another intense round of making up, you lay in his arms, the room quiet except for the sound of your mingled breaths. jude's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, a touch of tenderness that made your heart ache.

"jude," you began hesitantly, unsure if you should voice the thoughts that had been plaguing you. "do you ever think about what this... what we could be if things were different?"

he stiffened slightly, his hand pausing its movements. "what do you mean?"

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "i mean, if you weren't so focused on football, do you think we could be more than just... this?"

jude was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost distant. "i don't know. my career is everything to me. it's what i've worked for my whole life."

"i get that," you said softly, turning to look at him. "but it doesn't mean you can't have something more, someone who supports you and is there for you."

he sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of regret and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "if... if things were different, sure. but not right now, i don't have time for all that right now."

all that, he called it, as if your feelings and the possibility of a deeper relationship were just another burden on his already full plate. the sting of his words was sharp, but you tried to keep your voice steady.

"all that," you repeated, a bitter smile tugging at your lips.

jude's expression softened, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "y/n, it's not that i don't want it. it's just... i can't handle more than i already have. my career, the constant travel, the pressure — it's overwhelming."

you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes briefly before opening them again to meet his gaze. "i get it, it's okay."

having some of him is better than have none of him, you kept reminding yourself as he sighed in relief, closing his eyes as he drifted off to sleep. you lay there for a while, listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.

the reality of your situation weighed heavily on you, the knowledge that you would always come second to his career. but in those quiet moments, it was hard to focus on the negative. there was something so peaceful about being in his arms, so right, that made it difficult to let go.

days turned into weeks, and the cycle continued. you took what you could get, savoring the good moments and enduring the difficult ones. your friends started to notice the change in you, the way your mood would swing based on your interactions with jude. they would offer concerned looks and ask if everything was okay, but you always brushed them off with a smile and a nonchalant "i'm fine."

deep down, you knew they were right to worry. the emotional toll of your arrangement with jude was starting to wear on you, and you were constantly on edge, wondering when the next blow would come. you tried to distract yourself with work and hobbies, but nothing seemed to fill the void that jude left when he wasn't around.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

THREE MONTHS LATER

 ⠀ ── ⠀

it's crazy how much could change within 3 months. after a while, you stopped talking to jude and he understood why ─ you were hurting and you needed time. you found a boyfriend and of course jude wasn't too happy about that, but he couldn't really do anything about it.

you met your boyfriend at a friend’s birthday party. he was charming, attentive, and most importantly, he was ready for a relationship. things moved quickly, and soon enough, you found yourself in a stable, happy relationship. he treated you with the care you had longed for, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you were moving forward.

it didn't stop you from missing jude. the excitement you got from the way his presence made your heart race, was something you couldn’t easily forget. despite your boyfriend's kindness and the stability he offered, there was a lingering sense of something unfulfilled, a part of you that still yearned for the intensity you once had with jude.

one evening, as you and your boyfriend were having dinner at your favorite restaurant, your phone buzzed with a message. you glanced at it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw jude's name.

jude: miss you.

you quickly turned your phone face down, trying to focus on the conversation with ben, but the message stayed with you, echoing in your mind. you couldn’t deny that a part of you missed him too, missed the thrill and the connection you shared.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

the euros had came and your friends had bought tickets to go see england in the quarterfinals versus switzerland, they eventually convinced you to come. the thought of seeing jude on the pitch, representing his country, filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

on the day of the match, the stadium was buzzing with energy. you and your friends found your seats, the sea of england fans creating a vibrant atmosphere. as the players took to the field, your eyes were immediately drawn to jude. he looked focused, determined, and undeniably handsome in his england kit.

the match was intense, with both teams fighting hard for a place in the semifinals. you cheered along with the crowd, your emotions swinging with every close call and near miss. seeing jude play with such passion and skill reminded you why you had fallen for him in the first place.

when the final whistle blew, signaling england's victory, the celebration in the stadium was electric. you watched as jude and his teammates hugged, their faces alight with joy. you couldn't take your eyes off him, feeling a deep sense of connection despite the physical distance between you.

after the match, your friends had gotten invited to the celebratory party due to their connections to the english players. you knew you'd eventually be seeing jude and you just had to trust yourself to not fall in his trap once again.

well, you were wrong.

your legs tightened around jude's waist as he pushed the door of his hotel room open, his lips never leaving yours. he closed the door with his foot, pushing you against it when it closed.

you moaned against his lips as his hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. his kisses were demanding, filled with a hunger that mirrored your own. you could feel the intensity of his desire, the way he held you close as if afraid you might slip away.

"jude," you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair. "we shouldn’t be doing this."

"i know," he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck. "can’t help it. i need you, y/n. how can i celebrate without you?"

his words sent a shiver down your spine, and any resolve you had left melted away. you had tried to move on, to build a new life with your boyfriend, but being in jude's arms again felt like coming home.

"just this once," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "just this once," he agreed, though you both knew it was a lie.

with a growl, he captured your lips again, his hands gripping your hips as he carried you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body pressing against yours as he deepened the kiss. you could feel the heat between you growing, the familiar ache of desire spreading through you.

"god, i’ve missed this," he groaned, his hands sliding under your shirt. "missed you."

"me too," you admitted, your breath hitching as his fingers brushed against your skin.

clothes were quickly discarded until you were in left in your bra and underwear, the urgency between you leaving little room for hesitation. jude's touch was both familiar and electrifying, every caress reminding you of the connection you had tried so hard to forget. he moved with a confidence that made your heart race, his hands and lips worshipping your body as if making up for lost time.

"mine," he murmured against your ear, his voice rough with emotion. "no one else can make you feel like this."

"yes," you gasped, arching into his touch. "i’m yours, jude. always."

his eyes darkened with possessiveness, a primal satisfaction evident in his gaze. "i’ll never let you go again," he promised, his lips crashing into yours with renewed fervor.

his hands found your hips as he pushed you into the mattress, you let out another moan at his roughness. something your boyfriend never managed to do, you were never satisfied with the sexual part of your relationship.

he began rubbing his finger against your clothed core, his ego skyrocketing at the wetness that was already soaking through your panties. "look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with pride. "so wet for me."

you whimpered in response, your hips bucking against his hand. "jude, please," you begged, the need in your voice unmistakable.

"please what?" he teased, his fingers slipping under the fabric to stroke you directly. "tell me what you want, y/n."

"i want you," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. "i need you inside me, jude. now."

"oh yeah?" his voice was hoarse as he gazed down at you, taking in your form. he stopped his movements as he licked his lips, "does he fuck you like i do? tell me."

jude was teasing and you hated it. you also loved it, loved the way he made you work for it.

"no," you admitted breathlessly, your hips moving in a desperate attempt to find some friction. "no one fucks me like you do, jude. only you."

a satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "that's what i thought," he murmured, his fingers resuming their torturous movements. "you're mine, y/n. always have been, always will be."

"please," you begged, your voice breaking with need. "i need you, jude. please."

"aw, poor baby. bet you haven't cum in a while, right? he looks like he doesn't know how to fuck, right?" jude mocked as he leaned in closer to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "he's a damn loser. let me show you how a real man fucks, yeah?"

"please," you repeated as you nodded, too lost in the pleasure to think clearly.

he chuckled softly, clearly relishing the power he held over you. "since you asked so nicely," he said, positioning himself at your entrance. with a single, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, drawing a loud moan from your lips.

the sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain. jude moved with a possessiveness that left you breathless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

his hands found your hips as he began fucking into you, your body arching to meet his every thrust. each movement was deliberate and intense, a reminder of the connection you shared and the passion that had never truly faded.

"god, you feel so good," he groaned, his grip tightening as he quickened his pace. "so tight, fuck. like you were made for me."

"yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him. "only you, jude. no one else."

the words seemed to drive him wild, his thrusts becoming even more frantic as he pushed you both closer to the edge. the room was filled with the sounds of your bodies, each moan and gasp a testament to the intensity of the moment.

"can't get enough of you," he muttered, his voice rough with emotion. "i need you, y/n. always."

"always," you echoed, your own voice trembling with the force of your feelings. "i'm all yours, jude."

the coil of pleasure inside you tightened with each thrust, building to a crescendo that left you breathless and desperate for release. jude's movements became almost frenzied, his own need evident as he chased his climax.

"cum for me," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "wanna feel you come around me."

the words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the intensity of your orgasm. you cried out his name, the pleasure washing over you in waves that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

jude followed moments later, his own release hitting him with the force of a tidal wave. he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he spilled into you, as if he was reclaiming all over again. for a long moment, you both lay there, tangled together and utterly spent.

finally, he shifted, rolling onto his side and pulling you into his arms. you nestled against him, savoring the warmth and closeness. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, a tender gesture that made your heart ache with longing.

"break up with him," he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"jude..." you moved your head so you could face him, a frown curving your lips. "it's not that easy,"

"you just cheated on him and all it took were a couple drinks." he replied nonchalantly, his voice tinged with annoyance. "obviously he doesn't fuck you well, cause you felt this the moment i touched you."

"it's not just about that," you protested, your voice a mixture of guilt and frustration. "he's a good guy. he treats me well, and i do care about him."

"but you don't love him," jude shot back, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "not the way you love me."

the truth in his words stung, and you knew he was right. but breaking up with your boyfriend wasn't just about ending a relationship; it meant facing the reality of your feelings for jude and the complicated situation you found yourselves in.

"i don't want to hurt him," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"but you can't keep pretending." he spoke, his gaze never leaving yours. "look, i know... i was selfish."

was, as in past tense. you noted.

"i wasn't thinking about what you wanted and... i knew i wasn't fulfilling your emotional needs. i didn't know what i had til you left," jude continued, his voice sincere. "god, nobody does it like you. i've looked but nobody feels like you and it's deeper than just sex it's..."

he paused, feeling vulnerable as he sighed. where was he even going with this?

"it's everything," jude finally said, his voice softening. "it's the way you make me feel, the way you understand me without me having to say a word. it's the way you laugh, the way you support me, the way you just... get me."

you felt your heart swell at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making you believe every word. it was everything you had wanted to hear, but the reality of your situation made it hard to fully embrace it.

"jude, i need you to understand that this isn't just about you and me," you said gently, trying to convey the complexity of your feelings. "i do care about ben, and breaking up with him is going to hurt him. i can't just ignore that."

"i know," he replied, his hand cupping your cheek. "and i'm not asking you to ignore it. i'm asking you to be honest with yourself and with him. you deserve to be happy, and so does he. even if it means going through some pain first."

you sighed, knowing he was right. it was a difficult decision, but staying in a relationship where your heart wasn't fully invested was unfair to both you and ben.

"okay," you said softly, leaning into his touch. "i'll talk to him. but jude, i need you to promise me something."

"anything," he replied, his eyes full of determination.

"i need you to be all in," you said, your voice steady despite the emotion in your chest. "if we're going to do this, i need to know that you're committed, that this isn't just about the thrill or the sex. i need to know that you're ready for something real."

jude's eyes softened, and he nodded, his hand gently squeezing yours. "i promise, y/n. i'm all in. i want this to work, more than anything. and i'll do whatever it takes to make sure you know that."

with those words, a sense of resolve settled over you. it wouldn't be easy, and there would be challenges ahead, but for the first time, you felt like you were moving in the right direction.

as you lay back in his arms, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace, you knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter. one where you were finally choosing to follow your heart, no matter where it led.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[heaven4lostgirls]

I deserve better (A.H)

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3

summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.

word count: 1.5k

There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.

You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.

“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.

“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.

 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.

 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.

“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.

“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”

“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”

“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”

Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.

“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.

Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.

“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.

You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.

As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.

You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.

In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.

Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.

Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.

[lovelybarnes]

dog tags- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: language? umm crimes about: rewrite!! wanted to get back into writing and i thought rewriting some of my favorite prompts would be fun, PF12 “committing crimes” + DH8 “how dumb can you be?” a/n: hello! i meant to post this like. five days ago LMAO but i started school and should be doing work right now and i came up with a false memory claiming i did, in fact post, when i, in fact, did not. anyway. here it is. i don't know how much better it is than the original but i had fun writing it, though, surprise! i still suck at endings. ummm i am thinking or rewriting more to get back into the groove and i am writing an actual new request. this got long okay thank you

"We're going to get caught."

You shoot Bucky a look, nose wrinkled. "You are so negative," you say, legs kicking as you climb over a fence. "We are not going to get caught." You watch as he leaps from the ground, metal hand grasping the top of the fence and launching his body over it cleanly. He lands crouched and stable, watching you slowly turn your body over the ledge and subsequently topple onto the ground.

"We're gonna go to jail," he sighs, bending over to hoist you onto your feet by your armpits. Your hair has leaves in it.

"Oh my god." You stumble, hands wrapping around his arms from the speed. "How the fuck do you—"

You shriek when Bucky spins you around to press your back against his chest and clamps a palm over your mouth, gentle even through the fingers keeping your lips shut. Your eyes widen cartoonishly, flailing as he manhandles you behind a shrub. You're still complaining to the best of your ability when he shushes you, directing your attention to the woman walking out of the house.

You quiet down and stare, brows furrowed. She's not supposed to be there.

It's like Bucky can read your mind, glancing at you with a sigh. You try your best to give him a look back before looking at the woman again. She has a phone pressed against her ear, lips moving angrily. Her voice upticks sharply with the end of each word she says.

You relax when you realize there isn't a chance of you getting caught, kind of wishing you had popcorn to watch her nearly trip over her heels and become even more furious, kicking at the grass. Bucky's silent enough for you to seriously doubt you'd know he was there had he not been tightly wrapped around you. You squeak at the fact, impressed. Bucky pinches your side unhelpfully.

She unlocks her car, keys tinkling harshly with her movements. Bucky finally abates when she throws her door open and sinks inside her white Jaguar, the slamming door narrowly missing her pin-straight blonde hair.

You gag, pushing his hand away. "When was the last time you washed your fucking hands? That's disgus-"

"I thought the house was empty," he interrupts, head cocked.

"I thought it was, too," you defend lamely. "She's off schedule. Maybe that's why she was so pissed. Late to her HOES meeting or whatever."

"What the hell is HOES?"

"I don't know!" you cry. "The one with the lawns."

"Are you trying to say the HOA?"

You quirk an eyebrow. "James Buchanan showing his face?"

"This is not-" He sighs your name, "I swear, if any more of your information isn't right, I'm leaving."

You make an incredulous look. "Is that supposed to be a threat? You were not invited."

"I wanted to make sure you didn't die or get sued or go to jail. Which, hey, really likely in a neighborhood that has 'HOES' meetings."

"I'm not gonna 'die' or go to 'jail,'" you insist, finger quotes up and perplexing Bucky. "I don't need your help, anyway, I'm a very capable person with a very capable plan. You just followed me. You're some guy's little brother."

"What?"

"You know. Annoying."

Bucky breathes in slow, watching you creep around the bush for a better angle of the house. He closes his eyes and counts to three, and when he opens them, you're at the porch, tiptoeing like a fuckin' cartoon character into the house and leaving the door open. Spectacular.

He sprints inside inconspicuously, head darting both ways just in case before he closes the door. When he turns, there's an alarm system set up that lazily blinks green. No disturbances. Huh. He glances at you, impressed for a very quick second when he sees you snooping in a cabinet, clueless to the huge dog growling behind you.

He stills immediately, breath slowing. He stares at you and tries his best to make you feel it, but it either goes wrong or he fails entirely when you drop a file, groaning loudly at the injustice of it. The dog twitches. Bucky's heart jumps into his throat.

You're halfway into an inelegant bend when you spot him, face breaking into a smile. Fuck, he thinks. You're pretty even when you're going insane. "Hey! You're finally here. Look at—"

He shoots you a warning look, moving his lips as little as he can. "There's a dog." He glances between it and you, thinking every move ahead to avoid a nasty bite and the failure of your stupid mission.

"Oh my god, Brutus?" You spin too fast, startling the dog both from with your movements and apparent knowledge of his name. 'Brutus' makes a noise between a growl and a whine. You gasp, a palm pressing against your lips. "Brutus, I thought they retired you!"

You drop down to your knees, opening your arms wide. Brutus stares at you for a second, inching closer to sniff you apprehensively. Then, his ears tuck and he whimpers, tail tucked and wagging gently as he walks closer to you.

"You... know the dog."

"Yes, I know the dog," you start, voice careening into a higher, softer pitch as you rub the pads of your fingers behind Brutus' ears. "Brutus has been the guard dog here for two years. I fostered her for a little while until she was adopted but I kept in touch." Brutus licks your cheek, making you squeal. "Her name was originally Poppy but they wanted a scary name." You roll your eyes.

Bucky shoots you a look.

"I sort of spied on them for a few months to make sure she was doing well," you rub her ear, "and she was, yes she was," you baby-talk. "Her owners have shit values but they really spoil their dogs."

"Wow. Okay. One question—the people we are stealing from know you?"

"Yeah, they have my number."

Bucky pinches the skin between his brows.

"Good girl, Poppy, protecting the house from evil intruders," you coo.

Bucky looks at the clock and then you, slowly lowering yourself further to pet Brutus-Poppy. He nudges you with his foot. Poppy growls at him. "Hey. Fellow evil intruder. She's gonna be back at some point."

"Not for another hour at least. Nat's in charge of the distraction." Still, you press a loud kiss to Poppy's head and stand.

"I'm an overachiever. Let's leave ample time."

"Fine," you say loudly, arms swinging petulantly at your side. "I'll make it quick. You're such a bore."

"Yeah, yeah. What are we looking for anyway?"

You use a pencil to look between books and couch cushions, humming distractedly. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Buck." You wink.

Bucky's cheeks pink against his will, shaking it off as quickly as he can as he watches you look around. You pause in the middle of the room, do a full spin, and sigh. "Not here."

Bucky frowns but trails after you into another room, Poppy close behind. You open the door grandiosely to a giant room. "Wow."

"Okay, I know what you said, but you kind of need to tell me so I can help you find it," he says. You ignore him, striding toward a desk and pulling open a drawer. He says your name exasperatedly. You observe a notebook, shaking it vigorously before tossing it over your shoulder. Other items follow in quick succession, which he catches amidst his frustration. "What are you—you're going to break something—" He catches a crystal ball.

"I'm not, I know what I'm doing," you insist. "You are so pessimistic. Have faith." You dig in a little further before grumbling, rising to your feet and kicking a chair down. "I'm going to look in another room," you say and take off, leaving Bucky with an armful of miscellaneous objects to put back. He screws his eyes shut and counts to three.

You walk down the hallway quickly, peeking into the rooms until you find what you're looking for. Three doors in, you stop, scanning the walls until you find a hideous painting hung up next to a dusty bookshelf. You make a triumphant noise and stride toward it, running your fingers along the frame until you find the indentations of a security panel.

"Aha! And, if I remember correctly..." You enter 1234 and the painting swings open to reveal a safe. "Losers."

You count silently as you unlock the safe, laughing in triumph when you beat Natasha's record. Keeping the door open with an outstretched finger, you contort to find a pen, holding the cap between your teeth as you scrawl your time on the inside of your wrist, giggling in the anticipation of letting her know.

You turn your attention back to the safe after you've written a few wobbly exclamation points, rifling around until you find what you're looking for. Your fingers dig through a dark box filled with stolen valuables, a grin on your face when your fingers get tangled in the one you're looking for, eyebrows jumping in satisfaction as you tuck it safely into your pocket. You stick your head in the safe again, searching for something shiny to throw in Sam's face when Bucky bursts in.

"Oh, hey, do you think Sam would—"

"They're here."

Cursing, you shove everything into place, closing the safe and carefully moving the picture back. You step back and grimace. "God, that's ugly."

He says your name urgently, wrapping his hand around your wrist and dragging you away, throwing you over his shoulder when you keep lagging behind. You squeak, clamping your mouth shut when Bucky squeezes your thigh in warning.

He dumps you out of an open window and into a bush, rolling himself out onto cropped grass. "Okay, I think that was unnecessary," you mumble, crawling out next to him. There are lines of bubbling red all over your skin from what was apparently a rose bush.

"We have to hurry before the gate closes," he huffs, lifting the both of you up with ease and hurrying to the slimming entrance. You squeeze out unseen and stop at the beginning of the blind spot you came in through. Bucky's huffing when he puts you down.

"What's wrong? I thought you had super high stamina or something," you tease, poking at his shoulder. Bucky glares at you. You laugh and reach for his hand, beckoning him enticingly with your fingers. He appeases you suspiciously, capturing your hand in his. He squeezes and rubs a soft line up and down near your thumb.

"Let's go home," you say.

Bucky blinks. "What?"

"Let's go home. I'm hungry. And I kind of want to take a nap. Can we stop by and pick up some ramen?" You tug at his arm gently, beginning the trek to Bucky's bike down the path without surveillance. "Breaking and entering really wears me out," you say to his furrowed brows.

"Don't forget robbery," he muses.

"Right. Breaking, entering, and robbery really wears me out," you say with a laugh. You turn to him and grin, eyes sparkling.

Bucky stops, staying in place when you pull at him and whine. "What was it?"

You cock your head.

"What did you want to steal so badly?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking at him thoughtfully. "I'll tell you if you give me a piggyback ride," you proffer, wagging your brows.

Bucky rolls his eyes but crouches down, holding onto your index finger as you climb onto his back.

He readjusts you as he stands to full height, wrists twisting under your knees and holding your calves tight but kindly. You hum, one arm falling over his chest and the other dipping into your pocket, unzipping it and taking out the chain. You wrap it around your fingers delicately and rest your chin on his head, looking at it dangling from your hands.

Bucky begins to walk. "So?"

Your thumb draws wonky hearts on Bucky's chest, tracing the letters on the tags with your other one. "Do you remember how disappointed you were when you came back and your dog tags had been auctioned off? It was the one thing you couldn't get back because it wasn't in that museum." You feel Bucky nod. "Well, I've been looking for them," you confess, pursing your lips. "I didn't want to tell you because you'd tell me to stop and that it didn't matter but I know it did—I know it does.

"A few months ago, I found out who bought them and I tried to buy them back, but these assholes wouldn't budge no matter how much I offered—or anyone, I impersonated a lot of people. I think they just wanted to keep them because other people wanted them. And the things they said about you..." You shake your head, feeling yourself going hot with anger.

Bucky squeezes your leg, muttering your name.

You stop yourself, letting your face slant so your cheek rests on his hair. He smells sweet like your shampoo. Fucker. "So, anyway, I did the obvious thing: I tracked them down and broke into their house to get it back. It's not like the tags are theirs, anyway."

Bucky stops abruptly, jolting you. You yelp, complaining as he puts you down and stares at you.

"You did—this was to get my dog tags?"

You look back at him. "Yes? I didn't—"

He cuts you off, pulling you into a hug so tight, you cough. Your arms hang limply in surprise for a second before they come up to reciprocate, a dazed but still eager arm rubbing the line of his shoulder blade. Bucky hugs you a little tighter. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I don't think anyone... I don't know many people that would do that for me."

"Oh," you say, blinking fast. "I—of course I would. I love you, Bucky, you... I would do anything for you."

"Fuck," he says wetly, pulling away to hold your face in both hands. He smiles at you. One of those real ones that crinkle his eyes. "You're—fuck—"

You laugh, his hands falling away to your shoulders.

"I'm sorry you didn't get them back after you went through all that trouble."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean? You think I didn't get them?" You raise your hand to his view, dog tags dangling. "Your faith in me is shocking."

Bucky grabs the tags and you let them go easily, watching his hands turning them around slowly, index running along his name. JAMES B. BARNES. Then, two lines down, R. BARNES. "I can't believe you did this for me," he says softly.

You smile. "Well, believe it, baby," you tell him, gently teasing. Your wring your hands together. "Of course I did," you say, quieter.

When he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. "Thank you." He glances down at them once more and splits the chain with a finger to pull it on your neck. "Hold on to them for me?"

You pause. "Bucky..."

"Just until we get to the compound. You'll keep it safe for me."

You keep it safe for much longer than that.

[harrysfolklore]

four angsty scenarios with boyfriend!harry - headcanon

you give him the silent treatment

you and harry have good communication as a couple, always talking about your feelings and the things that bother you, so when he says something that hurt you and you decide to just not talk to him, he feels frustrated.

he absolutely hates when you shut him out, he knows you’re upset at him and wants to make it better, but he can’t if you won’t speak to him

“come on, darling. we always talk about our feelings, tell me what it is that made you upset and i’ll fix it, if there’s something that i need to apologize for i need to know”

his tone is definitely frustrated, even tho he’s getting upset himself, he doesn’t stop using pet names with you

you just keep ignoring him through the day and harry’s frustration grows, to the point where he stops trying to get you to talk to him and the house is just quiet

when it’s time for you both to go to bed he just can’t stand it anymore and he’s determined to get you to talk to him

“come on, love. i’ve been patient with you but you need to tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. we never go to bed angry, that’s not us”

and you end up talking everything through, he listens to how you feel and you listen to him as well, reminding each other that you’re a team

harry is jealous

you were oblivious to the guy shamelessly flirting with you, thinking he was just a very friendly person who wanted to have a chat

but harry notices his intentions, and he’s absolutely angry, not only because a random guy at a party was flirting with his girlfriend, but also because she doesn’t seem bothered by it and almost even leads him on

he knows you love him, and he never questions your loyalty, he also knows that the man just looks foolish because at the end of the day you’re going home to him, but he’s still angry

“if you’re done flirting with that bloke, i would like to head home, i’ll be waiting in the car” he tells you with a serious tone, not waiting for you to reply and walking out of the club, leaving you frozen at your spot

when you finally reach the car after grabbing your coat, the first thing that leaves your mouth is a “what the fuck was that?”

and he just gives you a cold stare that sends shivers down your spine, and that’s when you knew you fucked up

“the dude was flirting with you all night and you never stopped him, hell you even batted your eyelashes at him, and i was there looking like a complete idiot”

that’s when it hits you, and even tho you felt like you couldn’t apologize enough, you still did it all the way to your shared home, harry only giving you a “i don’t want to talk right now” and going straight to bed

when you got in bed next to him, you apologized again, hugged him from the back and kissed his neck multiple times, he was still upset but he held your hand nevertheless, you knew you would fix this in the morning

harry leaves the house during an argument

it was a very very heated argument, so many hurtful words were said and you've been yelling for hours, something that rarely ever happened between the two of you

harry was beyond frustrated, his hair almost falling out because of the amount of times he ran his hands through it harshly

you, on the other hand, your eyes were red and your chest hurt from all your crying, you hated confrontation and you hated arguing with him

"i'm done with is, if you're not compromised with this relationship as i am, then maybe we should wonder if it's even worth it to be together" and with that, he was out of the house, not even giving you the chance to ask him to stay, and your heart broke in a million pieces

you sat at the bottom of the stairs and sobbed, all kind of scenarios running through your head, but the one that hurt the most was harry leaving you because of stupid commitment issues

an hour later he arrived back to the house, and when he found you in that state, his own heart broke and all he could do was hold you close

"i thought you were leaving me" "it's okay baby, i'm not leaving i just needed to clear my head, we're okay, we're going to talk this through"

harry forgets about your date night

you were eagerly waiting for tonight, you boyfriend finally agreed on going out on a date after so many busy months were you just couldn't fine the time to do it

but as you sat in your kitchen counter, with make up on, hair done and a nice dress, realizing that harry completely forgot you guys were supposed to go out, you felt stupid

you waited for him to arrive home, with a glass of wine in your hand and the coldest look you could put on your face, you wanted him to feel bad that he stood you up

"hey honey, you look gorgeous but what's the occa- shit!" was what left his mouth when he saw you, realizing that he fucked up

he had been so caught up in the studio, too focused on writing down melodies and lyrics that he forgot that he was supposed to take his girlfriend out for dinner, and he felt horrible for that

"look baby, i'm sorry, i lost track of time but i'll make it up for you, i swear" he pleaded "don't. i don't want to hear it now, just take the couch and we can talk in the morning"

and harry almost wanted to cry as he laid on the cold couch, he knew he had a lot of amends to make in the morning

this is my first time writing angst so please give me your feedback !! i hope you like this <3

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[lfghughes]

Heyy could you please do a blurb with trevor where him and his gf are at a party and some guy starts flirting with his gf and won't stop so trevor gets super protective and fights the guy please

a/n: promised some trevor things to fill in the hole of him being out injured right now. dont worry jack peeps i got you next.

warnings: violence mentioned

Summer was full of endless fun. There was work too but not as much work as when hockey season came around and your boyfriend who was fully committed to the sport was constantly either at games or other events for his team. Right now you were just grateful for the warm weather and all the free time to travel..

Tonight the both of you plus some of his friends went to some party but you lost sight of him about fifteen minutes ago when him and Jack went to go grab some more drinks while you stayed behind talking to some of your own friends. Your moment of fun came to a halt though when some random guy came up to you.

“Hey, hope you didn’t come with any of these guys because no way any of these losers would know what to do with a girl like you.” The guy said and you cringed at his words. “Actually I have a boyfriend, he’s getting me a drink and he does just fine with me.” You told him offering a small awkward smile as you hoped he’d go away.

“Well maybe I can show you how much better I am.” He told you and suddenly after you waited nearly twenty minutes for him, Trevor and Jack were finally back. “Hey man, move out of my way so I can get to my girl.” He warned the guy and you had a feeling he had heard the last few words. “And if I don’t?” The guy asked as uneasiness spread in your stomach.

You watched as Trevor handed his drink over to Jack who seemed to realize exactly what his best friend was going to do. Before you could even try to stop him, Trevors fist flew into the other guy and a fight ensued. You weren’t sure at what point it stopped but eventually Jack had put the drinks down and managed to pull Trevor off of him.

“We need to go.” Jack said to the both of you and you just nodded your head in shock. The car ride back home was quiet, Trevor was still running on anger and you were still upset about the whole thing. Meanwhile Jack was just good enough to read the room and know no one wanted to talk right now.

Once you got home you went straight up to your room, not really in the mood to talk and it was clear Trevor needed some space too. After a couple of hours Trevor showed up at the door “Are you mad at me?” He asked, his voice quiet and you could tell your answer would hurt him. “I’m not mad, I’m just I don’t know. I don’t like seeing you like that…you know outside of the game.”

You’ve seen him get upset before, you’ve seen him throw hands before but never outside of a game. He walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed and on instinct you moved so you could be in his arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your night.” He whispered to you and you shook your head. “The other guy ruined my night not you. I just don’t want to see you like that again.”

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll do better” He told you and you snuggled into him more. “Thank you for sticking up for me.” You whispered to him and a small smile spread on his lips. “Always.”

[mykoreanlove]

hardships

„Come on, tell me!“ Minho pouted. Out of the blue he started asking random questions about your past in order to get to know you better. “I don’t want to!” You crossed your arms in front of your chest scathingly. “Why not?”, he started to whine, side-eyeing you.

You let out a long sigh. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

The gorgeous man in front of you tilted his head, looking at you guessingly. His eyes, even though they were piercing right through you, still held so much compassion in them that you decided to be sincere with him. “Min, I don’t like to talk about it because I didn’t have much luck in love so far. You see, I met a lot of dicks. I was left, betrayed, abandoned, ghosted – don’t you get that I don’t want to talk about that - with you of all people?”

Even though all of those heartbreaks happened a while ago, you still felt the hurt in your bones. Minho noticed your discomfort right away and grabbed your hands into his, smiling at you reassuringly. “Kitten, I won’t think less of you. If any, I’d think more of you. Trust me.” He squeezed your hands lightly, giving you the chance to open up to him.

And you did. You told him everything. Stories about boyfriends that turned into strangers, stories about crushes that did nothing but crush your heart and stories about potential soulmates that only used you for sex and attention. It felt nerve-wrecking and empowering to share your past with Minho at the same time. Were you afraid of him judging you? Yes. Were you afraid of him thinking less of you? Absolutely. Did he? Not at all.

In fact, Minho was paying a lot of attention, hanging on to every word that left your pretty lips. His eyes widened in shock as you told him about your first love breaking up with you via text, his jaw dropped to the floor as you told him about your crush leaving you because he was not ready for a relationship only to commit to another girl a week later and his eyes filled with tears as you told him about all the boys that blocked and ghosted you once they fucked you over – literally. He put his strong arms around you and held you closely to his chest. He often put up a tough front, being sarcastic and snappy and all but he was in fact very sensitive at the core. “I can’t believe that this has happened to you. I can’t believe that guys like this exist. You know what, no, they don’t deserve to be called guys. Demons, yeah, I had no idea that demons like that existed.” You chuckled against his chest, enamored by the vibration of your laughter. “Y/N, why are you laughing about this? I swear to god, you have so much willpower. I would have slaughtered every single one of them. Like how dare they?!” 

You looked up into your boyfriend’s outraged eyes, cautiously smiling at him. “I thought about that, too, actually. But I decided that they had messed with me enough, you know? What good does murdering them bring me?” Minho’s lips turned into a giant smirk: “Peace of mind, obviously!”

You laughed again and this time Minho joined you. He held you for a long time, trying to make up for all the hurt you had to endure during your younger years. You felt him hugging you tighter as he spoke again: “You know what, kitten? I am glad that you had to go through all that. In fact, I am very thankful to all those demons.” You shot back, looking up at him offended. “What now?”

He had not anticipated that reaction, so it took him a moment to recollect himself. He took your hand and guided you to sit on his lap. “I am happy that it didn’t work out with all the guys before me. I mean, I am even thankful for all the hardship you had to go through.” You wanted to jump off his lap when he grabbed you by the wrist, pleading: “No, wait. Please, hear me out, Y/N.”

You shot him a glaring look but stayed put on his lap, curious about what he had to say. “Those challenges, even if they had to be painful as fuck, turned you into the person you are today. They made you, you. And I love you so much as you are today. Maybe even tomorrow, who knows?” He smirked at you seductively. You rolled your eyes at him but felt deeply relieved that he confessed to you like that.

Minho put the long strands of hair behind your ears and looked into your eyes lovingly. “If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be able to look into your piercing eyes and tell you how much you mean to me.” Just as he did you took a long glimpse into his eyes – his brown pupils almost shimmering reddish in the afternoon sunlight, his gaze so intense that you had to turn your head, not daring to look at him for too long.

Minho grabbed your chin and turned your face back to him. He put his index finger on your plush lips and whispered: “If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be able to kiss your pink lips all night long.” He leaned in for a kiss which you gladly reciprocated. His soft lips cautiously on you, his tongue asking for entrance added by his firm hands on the back of your neck. Kissing him always felt exciting but today it felt like more, it felt like devotion.

He broke the kiss and gave you a chance to breathe, smiling because of the effects he had on you. You broke out of your trance as you noticed his big hands travelling down your body. You shot him a surprised look, getting slightly nervous as well.

“Kitten… if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be able to squeeze your cute, little tushy all day long!” And with that he slapped your ass, squeezed your buttocks and made you jump in the air. Minho threw his head back and laughed like a maniac. You turned around as you didn’t want him to see your embarrassed expression. But before you could even take a step, he was pulling you back onto his lap.

You looked at each other, studying every expression and movement like a wild animal observing its prey. It was Minho who broke the staring contest as he grabbed your head into his hands and flashed you his warmest smile. Almost inaudible he whispered: “I really mean it, Y/N. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have you.” He kissed you, long and tender before he smothered your face with little, sloppy kisses. You freed yourself laughing and hugged him tightly. “Thank you”, he whispered into your ear. “What for?”, you asked surprised. Minho hugged you even tighter before answering: “For never closing your heart, for not shutting it off. If I were you, I would have been devastated and decided to live alone with my cats. But you didn’t. You are so strong, kitten. Thank you for letting me into your heart. I promise I won’t make you regret it.” His words touched your heart, making you love him even more. “Promise?” Minho placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “Promise!”

______

auther's note: damn look at him in green

[givemearmstopraywith]

My mom keeps asking me why I stopped going to confession (I'm catholic, but it's complicated) and one of the reasons why is that it feels stupid and pointless to me. But is there like good reasons why I maybe should give it a try? Is confession even biblical? Or am I right for staying away from it? (side note: I've not been to confession for about 6 years now (I think), but before that I've been going to confession pretty much regularly for maybe 10 years. So it's not something I've just "tried" once and never again.)

there is no biblical precedent for confession as it exists in the catholic church. in 1 john 1:9, we're told that if we confess our sins to one another, God is faithful to us and forgives us. number 5:7 lays out the historical jewish practice of publicly confessing sins and making restitution. confessing to a priest means that you are confessing to a mediator between yourself and God, and that mediator gives you your restitution for those sins- these are works, since in catholicism we are justified through faith and works and not by faith alone, as in the protestant tradition. there's a lot of strength and depth to justification through faith and works, rather than just justification through faith: but i think you, like many christians, probably crave "works" that are a bit more comprehensive, more humane, than what is typically utilized in confession.

on the other side of this issue, hebrews 3:1 and 7-22-27 tells us that jesus is the high priest of our confession, the one mediator between God and men. on christ can forgive sins: but importantly the priest does not forgive your sin himself, he simply acts as a mediator on your behalf- a descendent of prophets, you might say. part of what i like about the anglican church is that the confession of sins is built into the liturgy, said as a congregation before partaking of the eucharist. this to me seems pithy and practical. but i am also someone who suffers from scruples: i never feel quite good enough, i am oppressed by the knowledge of my own fallenness and base nature (but i am getting better at not feeling this way all the time- nobody should, God does not want us to be crippled by guilt).

it is neither right nor wrong to stay away from confession. what it comes down to is your calling. everyone is called, but we are called in different directions. some are called to partake fully in the life of the catholic church, with its rites, rituals, sacramentalism, and tradition: all of these things are beautiful and meaningful in their own way, but they will be neither of those things to anyone who is not called to it. some are called to have a personal, private relationship with God. others are called to not have one at all. whether we conceive God in an inherent manifestation of "thinginess" or not, we are all called somewhere. it is the nature of being human, because to be human means to be woven into the universe and all it contains. the other thing is that we all do require confession on some level, because we all commit acts that are devoid of goodness- whether accidentally or with purpose.

my personal belief about sin is that it does not exist the way goodness exists, with form: sin is simply an emptiness, created by my own wrongdoing, waiting to be filled with goodness. part of how i feel that emptiness and try to fill it again is through public confession in the anglican church, by private prayerfulness, and by a concerted effort to minimize the harms i commit in my life as much as i can, which means restitution, reconciliation, and sitting with my guilt. but i have never felt personally called to the act of confessing my wrongdoing to a priest, although i have felt called to seek advice and clarification from them.

i am also someone who has a complicated relationship with catholicism and religion in general: i also had a mom who got on me for not performing my religiosity the way she expected me to, or the way i was taught or raised. my advice is ultimately, that this issue is between you and God. if its something you feel comfortable with, talk to God (or the universe, or Spirit, or whatever you conceive a higher power to be). wait. listen. pay attention. if your spirit does not feel called to confession, listen to it. in the practical side, i might suggest tell your mom that you are in a process of discerning God's call for you. if you are comfortable with it, you may want to talk to a priest or another member of clergy on this topic- you may also want to try attending a different denomination, or another faith tradition altogether. read the bible. read torah. read the qur'ran. pray. i spent a long time discerning what God wanted from me, went through a period of agnosticism, atheism, and other, more pearl-clutchy things, and ended up more involved in my faith than anyone, including my mom, ever expected- but i needed to walk away from it first. i needed find my way home. God does not mind if we wander. he made a whole world for us to wander in. God's story with humanity is full of people walking away and finding their way back where they started again: or they are taken to places they could have never imagined. either way, he is there. either way, you'll know. but lean into this place you're in now: it, like everything, has something to teach you.

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 2 - MONTH 0 - EXPECTATIONS

First/Prev - Next

---

It's been six months. Six months since that weird doctor and his inane little test to prove I'm ready, or at least, ready enough. Six months since I signed a stack of liability waivers forfeiting my right to pursue legal action for any reason up to and including untimely death. Only DAYS left before I can finally claim the entire reason I was there in the first place.

I came home today to find an information package in the mail - things I need to know before making my final commitment to the treatment. It's somewhat reassuring, really. By the sounds of it, this guy has to deal with all kinds of odd requests - I heard a rumour that someone went to him for a chimera treatment at one point - which means that he has to do all this research into side effects personally. …Although there's no telling how much of this is speculation. Concerning.

The information package is divided into different headings, roughly organized by risk factor and how outwardly noticeable they are, as if he's right here with me, trying to scare me off from it.

I decided before I even went to him that I wasn't going to let myself be scared again. Let's see what I'm in for. I sit down and start reading…

SKELETAL STRUCTURE

"Subject's height will noticeably increase. Increase of six inches is expected, increase of one foot is possible."

Huh. I guess I wouldn't mind being taller, but that's definitely going to affect what kinds of clothes I can wear. And I guess I might also get a bit wider proportionally? I'm already plus-size, maybe it'll just level it out.

"Subject may experience a conversion from plantigrade (walking on soles) to digitigrade (walking on toes)."

That makes me stop and think. I'd basically have to re-learn how to walk, and no doubt there's going to be an awkward intermediate period. Will my feet get bigger as well? They're big enough to make me dysphoric as it is. I wonder if I can get custom footwear made… I wonder how much that will cost…

"Subject will experience a reconfiguration of fingers to allow for retractable claws. Persistent soreness is to be expected."

Bluh. I've bitten my nails too close enough times to know how much it sucks not to be able to put pressure on my fingers without pain. I wonder how long that particular effect will last. Due to the lack of timeframe, I can only guess. Months, maybe. Years, I doubt it, but possibly.

"Subject's cranial and facial structure will experience long-term reformation. The effect this will have on brain function is unknown.

And here we get into "you signed a waiver" territory. I had accepted at the outset that death was a possibility, but I'm not sure how to feel about the risk of permanent brain damage. None of the other accounts of therian HRT I've heard seem to mention this, though, so maybe it's just speculation? I move on to the next heading.

DIET

"Tigers, like all felines, are obligate carnivores. Subject will be required to eat real meat (no substitutions) at every meal, or risk symptoms of starvation."

This had already occurred to me, to be honest. Part of the reason a white tiger is my fursona in the first place is because I am an unrepentant meat enjoyer. Heck, maybe a feline body will make meat taste even better.

"Lingering human characteristics may make it possible to digest other food, but the nutritional benefit to subject will be negligible."

…Ah. This was less expected. Does this mean I'll have to start thinking of things like bread and fruit as basically candy? Worse, will I have to avoid it? I love me a good grilled cheese, and poutine is basically an addictive substance, am I going to have to swear off some of my longtime favourites? Out of all of the effects so far, this is the one to give me the most hesitation. Yes, I love food, I'm not afraid to admit it.

"Subject is likely to lose cravings for non-meat food entirely."

I have to sit back and process this one. Back when I started human HRT, one of the things that gave me pause was the idea of decreased libido. That was one of the few things about my body that didn't make me dysphoric, unlike a lot of trans people whose stories I'd read. In the first few months, though, I found it settled into a pleasant sort of medium, where I could have it if I wanted, but it wouldn't show up out of nowhere. Maybe this will be the same way? Maybe poutine can still be a sometimes food? Cats eat weird stuff that's not healthy for them sometimes, but it's fine, right?

Some part of me considers holding a funeral for the abstract concept of poutine.

On to the final heading…

SENSORY EFFECTS

"Subject will gain heightened night vision and hearing. This will cause sleep to become significantly more difficult."

Trust a doctor to find the one downside to one of the coolest effects of the treatment… Do you even know how much I want to hear every beat of the world around me? Do you even understand how useful it would be to be able to see in the dark effortlessly? Having a tiger's eyes and ears would be almost worth every single downside by itself.

Besides, I'm a very heavy sleeper.

"Subject's hearing frequency range will become significantly more broad than a human's. High-pitched noises such as dog whistles will be audible and painful."

Well, I'm sure that's going to suck sometimes, but I don't think I'm exposed to such noises on the regular. Although… I suppose I wouldn't know, with my feeble human frequency range. It's something that might be fine or might suck, I guess.

"Subject's sense of touch will be strongly affected by fur growth."

Sure, that tracks, but I'm kind of looking forward to it. Maybe it's comparable to wearing a full-body fursuit? I've actually missed having opportunities to fullsuit, and I've thought about commissioning a new one if I saved up enough money, but I suppose that won't be necessary now.

Much of the rest of the document is a reminder that everything listed is Permanent and Irreversible short of Major Surgery, with some reminders of the various rights to litigate that I've waived. Ultimately, it sounds like I've got some big changes ahead, but nothing I've seen here is a dealbreaker.

It's slightly terrifying, but I'm excited.

I can't wait to hear the rain through a tiger's ears.

[abigailmoment]

"I'm worried about fucking things up between us. He's...words. Words," Tav muttered, making absent come-hither motions as if trying to summon the right ones. "Delicate's wrong. Maybe fragile? Fragile like a smokepowder bomb. But that's wrong too. Wounded. But that's not enough. It's like he's walking around with a bunch of scabbed over stab wounds. But he's had them forever and he's so used to them he can walk around, and backstab people, and laugh. But they're still there and they're fucking stab wounds and I can tell when they're being jostled."

"Do you know how he got them?" Halsin asked.

"Parts of it," Tav said. "I am making plans to commit murder when we get back to Baldur's Gate."

Her eyes flicked up to Halsin's face to make sure there was no judgement there. There wasn't.

"I have lists," she continued. "Of possible tactics. Notes. Diagrams. Some doodles." Full text below. Full text on Ao3.

Halsin walked into the woods until the sounds of the revel had faded behind the sounds of leaves. Then he settled comfortably, leaning back against a birch tree, and just looked out.

The colors of the forest were muted in darkness, but it was alive with shapes and sounds. The protecting spread of branches above, and the stars peeking down between them. Cricket chirping and owls with opinions. The world sounded green and alive, and that was very wonderful. Just being present here was like a blessing after so long in a dungeon.

It was hard to say how long he'd been sitting, almost slipping into reverie, when he noticed a pattern in the movement of the animals around him. There were a lot of them heading east. A fox passed him. A racoon. Another fox. A pair of hedgehogs complaining to each other about how two-leggers were always making such a fuss of noise about nothing.

The party he'd left was southward, so this would be something else bothering them. Investigating such disturbances was so much a habit for him that he barely thought before standing and walking quietly west.

He heard the hard crunch of boots crushing leaves--someone moving rapidly and with no thought to noise. He approached the sound and found Tav. No longer at the party, she was pacing back and forth between two trees, muttering to herself. Occasionally she stopped and said 'Fuck!' very quietly but very sincerely. Then she resumed pacing.

Halsin waited, but she didn’t notice him. He took another step and intentionally found a branch to break underfoot. Tav started and her eyes snapped towards him.

"Hi," she said, eyes wide. "I'm sorry. Was this...were you using these woods? I can move."

Halsin put up his hands. "There's green enough for everyone. I just happened by. Is something troubling you?"

"I. Uh." She raked her fingers through her hair once. Twice. "I'm in trouble."

"I see.” Halsin had a few guesses about the kind of trouble that drove one to pace and mutter in the night. ”Do you want to speak of it?"

"I. Maybe. That might be..."

She hesitated. She started pacing again. Got three steps and stopped. She was worrying the base of one horn with her nails. Finally she seemed to come to a decision and turned to actually look at Halsin.

"If you had to pick, out of all of my companions. With whom do you think it would be the worst idea to get..." She made a mixing tangling motion with her fingers, and eventually supplemented the gesture with the words: "...emotionally involved?"

"I feel I would need to know them better to answer confidently," Halsin said.

"That is a thoughtful, charitable sort of a thing to say," Tav allowed. "But I bet you don't actually need that. I'll give you a hint. It's NOT the woman who could set me on fire with a hug."

Halsin took a moment to consider, but based on superficial observation the answer did seem obvious.

"Astarion?" he guessed.

Tav clapped her hands together in a pantomime of celebration and then pointed her fingertips at him. "You're good at this game. Your retroactive prize is being saved from goblins."

Halsin smiled slightly. "I'm glad I guessed right."

"Yeah, me too." Tav sighed. She was rubbing her hands together and staring off to one side. "We were flirting. It was a game. About saying stupid, over the top things that we both knew we didn't mean. And he had all these great-awful pickup lines and we were getting more and more dramatic. And then. And then he looked at me and he said 'I love you.'"

Her hands were in her hair again, raking over her horns. "And he did NOT mean it. But my heart did that little thump-thump-leap thing LIKE he meant it."

She stared hard into the dark woods, hands tangled in her increasingly wild hair.

"And that is a PROBLEM," she whispered.

"Is it?" Halsin asked.

"Yes." She snapped, eyes focusing back on Halsin. "Yes, that is a problem. Because the things I have to offer are effective group management techniques and limericks. And if I lose my head over the most mother-would-not-approve albino bad boy who is part of the team I have to handle I will stop being an effective group manager. Then all I have to offer is limericks. And they ARE magical limericks. But they still aren't going to save the realm from the Absolute. Which is apparently what we need to do."

Then she had to stop because she had not paused to breathe for that entire paragraph. Her hands were moving again, nails raking over her horns to the point where Halsin was concerned she might hurt herself.

So he reached out to take her by the hand and shoulder and suggested with gentle pressure that she might sit down. They ended up cross-legged in the grass. A much more stable and grounded position. Tav exhaled slowly, and looked up at him.

"Hi," she said. "Sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," he told her. "It seems you are taking a great deal of responsibility on to yourself."

"I've read a lot of epic legends, Halsin." There was something haunted in her expression. "I'm really starting to think we're in one. I think the things we do here are going to have some far reaching consequences."

"I see," he said. And he supposed a bard would know. "Very well then. Grave as they may be, let's set aside your responsibilities for a moment."

She seemed very gesture-prone, so he decided to illuminate this advice with motion. He moved his hands, as if gathering his responsibilities up into a bundle. He carefully set them down to his left.

Tav seemed wary to the point of intimidated by the prospect of setting her responsibilities aside, even metaphorically. But after a moment she imitated him, and she did so with all the buy-in of someone whose arcane magic was partially based on improv. It took her quite some effort to get all her obligations wrapped up and when she shifted them to the side it was with a little huff of effort. Halsin couldn't help but smile.

"How do you feel?" he asked when she was done.

"Scared," she said. She was fretting her fingernails in the same way she'd been fretting her horns before.

Halsin rumbled in an understanding way, but didn't say anything.

"I like him," Tav continued after a moment. "A lot. He's fun. He's sharp and interesting. And talking to him is like playing. And he's mean, but that's fun too. And he's VERY pretty."

She dropped her head to the side, as if she needed a moment to recover from just how pretty he was. Then she rubbed at her eyebrow.

"And sometimes...he's sad. And then I wish I were a wizard so I could just incinerate everything that makes him sad."

Halsin nodded. "I believe there are scrolls for that."

Tav's eyebrows shot up and she looked at Halsin sharply. "Did you just...are you enabling me? To do an arson?"

"To protect people you care for?" Halsin asked. "Most certainly."

The surprise melted away and she smiled slantwise at him. "I suppose I should have expected that after seeing you maul half the goblin camp."

He nodded, and it was a pleasant moment of mutual understanding. He let it lapse into silence so that she would start to fill that silence again with her fretful thoughts. She did.

"I'm worried about fucking things up between us. He's...words. Words," Tav muttered, making absent come-hither motions as if trying to summon the right ones. "Delicate's wrong. Maybe fragile? Fragile like a smokepowder bomb. But that's wrong too. Wounded. But that's not enough. It's like he's walking around with a bunch of scabbed over stab wounds. But he's had them forever and he's so used to them he can walk around, and backstab people, and laugh. But they're still there and they're fucking stab wounds and I can tell when they're being jostled."

"Do you know how he got them?" Halsin asked.

"Parts of it," Tav said. "I am making plans to commit murder when we get back to Baldur's Gate."

Her eyes flicked up to Halsin's face to make sure there was no judgement there. There wasn't.

"I have lists," she continued. "Of possible tactics. Notes. Diagrams. Some doodles."

"Could your plans use a bear?" He asked mildly.

Tav laughed, and it was loud and startled and genuine. "Yes. Fantastic. Always. I'll incorporate you into my ideas and daydreams."

The laughter did her good. When it finished the thread of tension loosened and her shoulders had relaxed a notch.

"I probably don't need to worry about hurting him with this," she said a little ruefully. "He's not serious. This is a game for him? Or a ploy? I'm not sure. Whichever. I'm the only one throwing her heart around like an idiot."

Halsin, who had been at camp long enough to observe some of the dynamics between the companions, decided not to comment on some of the assumptions she was making. He just made a thoughtful noise.

"So I guess that just leaves me scared about, you know." She flicked her fingers over her sleeve, removing a bit of dirt with affected casualness. "Getting hurt myself."

"It can be a frightening thing. To be the more loving one," said Halsin. "But it doesn't need to be a bad thing."

Tav hummed in a prompting, curious way. Halsin considered what he was about to say, and decided this was a reasonable time of have an opinion.

"We give each other what we can in the time we have," he said. "You have a gift. You have love for another person. A man who, from what you've said, could very much do with being loved."

Tav hummed a little more softly.

"That's nice," she said. "That's a bit of poetry."

"Pardon me. I know it's not my profession."

"Naw." Tav shook her head. "Anyone can be a bard. Just don't be surprised if I steal your words for lyrics."

Halsin opened a hand and offered his palm. "They are freely given."

"Boring," Tav complained with a smile. "I wanted to steal them."

"Well then." Halsin closed his hand. "I take back my permission."

"Good. Thank you." The smile had wedged itself firmly in the side of her face and remained even as she sighed. "I guess I'm already fucked. It's not like you can fall out of love. Not while we're spending every day together."

She covered her face with her hands and said much more quietly: "And I do not have the willpower to say no to the sex."

Halsin nodded and made a noise of deep understanding. Eventually, Tav peeked up from her hands.

"You're really good at listening," she told him.

"It is an important part of being an archdruid."

"Thank you."

"Please let me know if you ever need to be listened to again."

[bordysbae]

hello could you do 36. “yeah, i’m jealous” with alex turcotte

“party foul”

alex turcotte x reader

did i just combine 3 requests? yeah. don’t even talk abt it.

—

you met alex in your economics class earlier this semester, and you two have become a little more than friends. it started off as a one night stand, which turned into a regular thing nearly every weekend.

as you down the last sip of your drink, you watch as alex converses with a petite blonde girl in the corner of the room. you shouldn’t be jealous, especially since you’re the one who told alex it could never be anything more than what it is, but you are.

“we better get you another drink before your eyes burn a hole right through my best friend,” cole says, randomly appearing next to you.

“oh would you shut it caufield,” you groan, fidgeting with your now empty cup.

“annabella, business major,” cole says, before taking a sip of his beer. his words only makes you even more annoyed than you were just a few moments before.

“how the hell do you know so much about her?” you ask cole, now turning to fully face the sort-of-ginger boy.

“she’s friends with abby,” he shrugs, making you gasp, “does abby hate me or something? she’s allowing her friend to be falling at alex’s feet?”

“no no, she told annabella that alex is in a sticky situation, but clearly she doesn’t listen. she’s kind of a whore,” he shrugs. you immediately smack his arm.

“cole! don’t call women whores!”

“oh, now you’re defending her?”

“no but i don’t slut shame! ugh, god cole, why do i even care? we’re just hooking up, it’s not anything serious. i literally told him i didn’t want anything more, when i very much do!” you tipsily admit to cole, making his eyes widen.

“you want more with him?” he asks you, chugging the rest of his drink, since you’re stressing him out with all this drama.

“dude, everyone knows that! i’m just afraid commitment, and alex is kind of a player cole,” you bashfully say, now looking at alex once again, who’s laughing at her stupid jokes.

“well maybe you should tell him you want more? cause he sure as hell doesn’t look bored over there, but he likes you, y/n. i know that. but i think he’s tired of waiti— oh shit, here she comes! gotta dip but uh, good luck!” cole says, sheepishly smiling as he 180’s his way out of the room. you turn around and see annabella standing in front of you.

“is there a reason you’re staring at me and him?” she asks you, gesturing her hand towards alex, who looks incredibly embarrassed.

“him? do you even know his name?” you chuckle, making her face redden.

“uh, yeah, of course i do! it’s uh, austin!” she says, making you burst out laughing, “it’s alex, but nice try!”

“whatever, i was close enough. you’re just jealous i pulled a hockey player and you didn’t,” she shrugs.

“oh definitely,” you say sarcastically, pausing to let out a chuckle. “if you knew anything about me and alex, i don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now. how about you just go back to your boy toy, and i’ll go back to minding my own business, okay?” you ask, making her scoff. she walks back towards alex, and you immediately beeline it for the door.

as you sit on the front porch of the frat house, you hear the door open a few moments after you closed it. you don’t look up from your lap, but when a male figure sits down on the step next to you, you look to your left and see alex.“what was all that, huh?” alex teases, making you scoff, “i’m not in the mood, alex. go back to your puck bunny.”

“hold on, are you jealous?” he asks, immediately making your cheeks flush pink.

“you know what, yeah alex i am! i literally got in a fight because of you!” you exclaim, placing your head in your hands.

“i thought we were strictly hooking up? am i wrong?” he asks. you let out a deep sigh, and stare up at the few stars in the late night, wisconsin sky.

“alex i’ve always wanted more, but i’m scared. you’re going to the nhl soon, and you have a slight reputation. i just don’t want to get hurt,” you admit to him.

“i know i have a reputation, and i’m not proud of it. tonight definitely doesn’t help my case, but i really like you y/n. i don’t think i’ve liked anyone this much, actually. i’ve told my mom about you, fun fact,” he awkwardly chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“mama turcotte knows about me? shit, you better wife me up now,” you joke, thankfully making alex laugh.

“i guess i’ll just have to,” he shrugs, making you laugh once again. you rest your head on his shoulder, and his head rests on top of yours. all the tension from earlier disintegrated, and now it’s just pure laughs from the both of you as you embrace the moment.

[bettsfic]

Hi Betts,

I recently listened to an interview with an author that said “when they decided to get really serious about writing and their dreams they made a ten year plan.” So me being the planner that I am, said maybe I should do it too, especially since this writer is pretty successful. Have I made a decent enough plan? No, because being real about your dreams and committing is scary af.

But I have developed this thinking that each story I have to work on has to be “publishable” and if I can’t immediately envision its success I need to push it away. For some people this is fine. For me, I’m pushing aside every idea and am constantly writing for an invisible audience. Which has its pros and cons.

I want to become efficient so that I can be a good author. One who meets deadlines and puts out work they are proud of. But I’m wondering if it’s even possible to try to work to be an author and still create work that is fun and true to you? If a decision isn’t meaningful I won’t include it in my outline. It feels like the only time writing can be fun is when I was young and had no clue about market and rules and just assumed my dreams would come true.

you know, what i keep finding over and over again is that i was right about a great many things before i had any idea what i was doing. i just didn't know why i was right, i had no context or evidence for my rightness. granted, i was arrogant, but arrogance isn't wrong; it's just uninformed. when you inform arrogance, it becomes confidence. you become informed by getting a lot of feedback on your work and giving feedback on work; having your work accepted once or twice and accepting someone else's work; having your work rejected hundreds of times and being the one to reject. maybe you've done all those things already, in which case you're firmly on your path and there's not much you have to do besides keep going.

i definitely relate to what you're saying, though. i would be lying if i said i wasn't just days ago in a phase of berating myself for my failures and wishing i could work harder and more efficiently. i've cultivated some confidence about my work, but there are some ways in which i'm too arrogant and others in which i'm too humble. i have a long way to go still in informing myself about my work and the process of making it.

you'll be in positions where you have to make creative concessions for the sake of publishing, but don't make them before you get anything on the page. listen to your own ideals and make those ideals happen in your work. a year ago, i finished a novel that was my favorite thing i'd ever made, and i was so proud of it, but i knew it wasn't publishable in the state it was in. even though i'd worked a year on it, it was still an early draft and bore the marks of an early draft, but i couldn't see that because i'd never taken any project further than that one. i'd never felt closer to a project or more intensely toward it. and when i was done, i went through six months grieving it, in a sense, because i knew i'd have to rewrite it. i had to kill the thing that it was in order for it to become what it needed to be. i came to accept that, and the next six months sat on the frustration of not knowing what direction to take it, but having the wisdom to know i couldn't rush it or force it.

and then the fix came to me all at once. the fix involves getting rid of many things that were once dear to me. not even darlings, but entire themes i felt were meaningful, that were the very things i want to share and explore in my work. i don't feel so bad about giving those things up now. what i take out will be put into something else eventually, and what i keep will stand out more starkly. the new parts i write will fit better and serve the story itself, even if it's no longer the story i originally intended to tell.

when you're drafting, your work is in a private conversation with yourself; it's about you even if it isn't. but it can't stay about you. eventually it has to stand on its own. and you might think, well why can't i just write something that stands on its own to begin with? but if you do that, writing is just work, it's business, and it may be more efficient but it's also less meaningful. there's no such thing as efficient creativity. it takes as long as it takes, and if you force yourself on a ten year timeline you might as well focus that energy on something more lucrative and within your control. there's so much about writing that's just chance and discovery and failure and faith.

so i think you should go back to assuming your dreams will come true and not thinking too much about anything except the work itself until you get to the point where you have to. and it will hurt. it may hurt more than anything hurt you've ever put yourself through. but trust you'll get to where you're going, even if it takes longer than you intended.

[eskeptical]

re-ignition (II)

miguel o'hara x reader word count:1k a/n: sorry about my disappearance, things were super hectic and I lowkey had writer's block. i plan on posting, not as often as i used to, but every now and then when i get inspired (every few weeks or so, though i might post a little more now that i am on school break). make no mistake, i am still not over this man.

There was hardly any consolation you could find in the cluttered closet you were confined to. Faint voices could be heard from the outside, but speaking up would only cause trouble.

After all, you weren't supposed to be here.

Neither of you were.

"Why is Lyla offline? I didn't think you'd be the type to program her to have a vacation break." You asked, maybe with a harsher tone than you had intended.

"She's not."

One thing you had noted, other than the amount of cardboard boxes on the metal shelves you had been counting, was that in the entirety of the thirty-three minutes you had been stuck here, Miguel O'hara had not looked at you once.

He paused for a long while, seemingly as though he had no more to say about the subject, before he finally added, "Lyla's just...being a pain in the ass. She's not going to answer, at least for a while."

"Oh. Okay."

You looked around, before standing up and dusting off briefly before trying to push the door.

"What are you doing? We've already tried that. It isn't going to work." His words were on the verge of annoyance, more on your end than on his own.

"Well, I don't see you coming up with anything better."

"Jessica will probably notice we've been gone for too long."

"That will take too long." You responded, grunting as you tried to push off whatever was blocking the door.

"Please, like you've got anything else to do."

Oh, that one stung. Asshole.

Still, his words were true.

Since your return, all you had been assigned was recruit training in the mornings, a schedule he knew you disliked, and hanging around the lounge, hoping Jessica or Peter felt guilty enough to invite you on their missions.

Which, as you had expected, was not a decision up to them.

This had been your one chance to prove you were capable of coming back to your regular schedules of taking on three, even four anomalies daily. And for some reason out of your control, you screwed it up. Again.

You turned around, hoping the irritation showed on your expression.

"And who's fault is that?" You asked.

"Any lack of assignments are due to your lack of skill and commitment." He responded nonchalantly yet firmly, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I was only gone two months. And I was still spider-woman there, so it's not like I quit entirely. You're just salty because you wanted to mix business with pleasure, and it didn't work out the way you wanted."

The words left your mouth before it dawned on you what you had just said.

And this seemed to finally grab his attention.

His gaze focused on you, his brows furrowed as he stood up and walked over to you.

(His eyes looked darker, you thought. Maybe it was the dim lighting that had softened the dark red hues, settling for an intense brown.)

By the time he stopped, only inches seemed to separate you, a deafening silence consuming the space between.

"Something like that takes two to work, doesn't it?" His husky voiced lowered, irritation in his tone.

For a moment, he didn't sound at all like the man you had left months ago. He seemed colder, meaner in a way that left a sting on your chest, his words cold sharp ice that pierced through the thick defense you had been building around him lately.

"I've seen you train. You lack the precision and strategy you once had. So, no, I haven't been assigning you on missions, and if you think it's due to other circumstances, maybe you should reevaluate who is the salty one here."

His tone emphasized the last few words.

Fuck.

You couldn't say anything back.

How could you? It was dumb to assume he was still hurt. It had been two months, and he was right: your skills had deteriorated, especially with the lack of crime in your dimension. He had seen it, or so he claimed, because you had never seen him at the training center.

(Then again, you supposed the leader of the Spider Society would be stealthy enough to pass by unnoticed.)

He clicked his tongue as he saw your lack of a response, and turned back to sit down. This time, you were the one who could not look him in the eye. You sighed, and walked over to the other corner of the small space (which did nothing, as there were still a few feet separating you), slumping down onto the floor in defeat.

You hated this.

Hated that he still somehow had this effect on you, that he could be so infuriatingly right and annoying at the same time.

He was over it, he had to be - he was over you, over whatever had taken place in similar settings months ago.

And then again, maybe the problem here wasn't him letting go over you walking away.

Maybe the problem is that you wanted there to be more, when you and him knew exactly why there couldn't be. Why there shouldn't be.

Your actions and your words, despite how indifferent you had thought them to be, had biased roots that tugged at you and made it clear this wasn't just nothing to you.

After all, the fluttering you felt in your stomach had failed to gone away, even now.

A few minutes of silence followed, serving as time for you to finally gather the courage to speak.

"Miguel, I-"

As if on cue, an interruption came in the form of a small figure with heart-shaped glasses and an oversized lab coat, an orange glow surrounding her.

"Hey boss, needed me?" she chirped, filing her nails.

"Lyla, send over someone to get us out of here. Something's blocking the door." Miguel responded, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Lyla lifted her glasses slightly, with a teasing grin on her lips. "Alrighty, did you figure out things with--"

"Enough has been said already, and there is no need. Send someone, now."

"Okay, okay. They'll be there in a sec." She rolled her eyes and disappeared, leaving the closet dim again.

Not long after, a metal pang was heard outside, and you saw light flood into the room as the door swung open. You looked over to Miguel, who clearly looked bothered enough as he quickly stood up and headed towards the exit.

You sighed, and followed after him.

Your smooth return wasn't going to be as easy as you thought.

[moriamori]

Even now I feel the ghosts of muscles and nerves wishing to induce pain, as my upper torso works on healing missing skin from ripped kinetic sports tape used in recovery.

The words "Do what you love while you still have the bodily means to do it" rattles through my bones, I'm not that old by human standards but the sense of a countdown remains regardless. Comics are a deep love of mine. They're also the medium to tell a story very, very slowly.

With an average life span of 80 years, knock off my current 30, that's 50 years left. A completed series could take about ten years, many have taken longer. The manic could commit maybe five stories. Realistically, most manage half or a quarter of one. Maybe complete one. Maybe two. And my arms hurt, my spine pinches. My fingers tingle.

With my current funds, I choose between one physio session for the month, or hope to save up enough for an ergonomics assessment of my awful workdesk-setup in a slanted apartment, with a chair too big and items eternally too wide, too heavy for me. "This time," I say, "This time, this will help me get closer to drawing again".

I had wanted to be a freelance illustrator, when I realized my day job would never financially reflect the amount of work I do or don't put in. I wouldn't be able to increase my funds if I took on more work. My job will only realize they can expect more work out of me for the same pay. Getting hired elsewhere, while a possibility, would likely involve obtaining a new job that is twice as stressful and pays a tiny bit more. I don't even want this career.

I used to do commissions. I used to draw like I breathed. The irony of working in an art school is that the continuous exposure to technique and "how to get better", mainly makes you able to see your own mistakes and your own shortcomings over and over again. It's always about improvement. Find the faults, do better. Do better. Do better.

Don't sing this way, sing that way.

I feel like I've lost my voice. I feel like my voice hasn't much to say, actually. I know people loved it, once. People even demand my return.

"I want to see the next pages." "Where's that comic you said you'd do?" "Made any art recently?"

Positive attention doesn't pay bills, doesn't give me lunch, doesn't offer insurance for my physio therapy bills. It almost did. But I would have to keep performing. Keep producing through the burn. And I want to. I do. That's the awful thing in the end. I also want these pages done.

I want to love to create again. I remember I loved. I loved fearlessly. Made fearlessly. I embraced bad art. Minimalist art. Shitty art.

"I know you can make better than this." "You didn't put effort in this one."

Please put effort in me.

I am sorry the previous conditions I worked in were not enough, and the past support was not enough. I did have patreon. I did have some support. I had people willing to pay me for my time and effort and they even had patience. It was almost enough. Almost.

A flower still wilts if only given a slice of the sun it needs. It can try to grow in those conditions but it isn't going to be good.

"It used to be enough before!"

Maybe I grew. Maybe my appetite and my needs got bigger. Kids' meals don't fill me anymore. What right do I have to ask for more, when I have nothing to show for it? When what I make, may end up being terrible regardless?

"Remember you will love," I tell myself once more. Maybe I'll love regardless, in the end. Pages or no pages.

I do love terrible comics, in the end.

[kurtie4life96]

Hi!! My fiancé of nearly 4 years cheated on me and I have two kids with him. I’m in need of comfort. Could you possibly write something with Eddie telling reader that she’s enough for him and he’ll never do that to her?

This has become top of my priority list instantly.

You are BEAUTIFUL, you are ENOUGH, and it was HIS loss. I am so, so sorry babe. I'm positive that you're perfect and your kids are lucky to have such an amazing mother. I know, because I have two LOs too.

Enough ♡ E.M. x Fem Reader

Summary: Eddie's one and only beloved needs some reassurance. He's more than happy to give her just that.

CW: soft!Eddie, nervous!reader, established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, ramblings, just so much fluff, lil blurb

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were seated on the old, well-loved couch in Eddie's trailer with a stooped posture, your elbows resting on your thighs, your right leg bouncing up and down involuntarily, as you stared off into space in the dimly lit living room, worry, concern, and anxiety aching deep in your chest as negative thoughts flooded your brain.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Despite being in a long term, loving relationship with Eddie, it was always hard for you to not fear the worst while in a committed relationship.

You took deep, shaky breaths, battling with yourself in your mind, trying to convince yourself anything but the worst.

He loves me, I'm happy, so why do I feel like this, why do I always have to feel so scared-

Eddie interrupted your thoughts as he opened the bathroom door, finished with his shower, smiling ear to ear as he headed towards the living room.

"Hello, my sweet angel, I'm all done, ready to watch that movie now? I'm so excited we finally get to watch Beetlejuice, I heard it's hilarious-"

He stopped dead in his tracks, his smile fading from his face and a look of concern replacing it at the distressed sight of you.

He quickly hurried towards you, sitting on the couch and placing a gentle hand on your back, his voice soft.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay, did something happen?"

You shook your head, pushing your hair back from your forehead, giving him a strained smile.

"No, no, nothing happened," you stammered, a shake in your voice, "I'm okay, really, I just-"

You sighed, clasping your hands, sweating with nerves as you bowed your head, eyebrows knitted together.

"Hey, look at me," Eddie held a hand to the side of your face, turning it towards him, gazing at you with a sad, half smile.

You pursed your lips, then glanced at him, shifting your body to face him, crossing your ankles together to sit directly in front of him, Eddie doing the same.

He took both of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers, his soft, understanding eyes looking into your own.

"Tell me what's going on." He insisted, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.

You stayed silent for a moment, swallowing hard as you struggled to find the words.

"Go on," he insisted kindly, "tell me everything that's on your mind. I won't talk until you're finished speaking. You have my full attention."

"Thank you." You mumbled, grateful for his support.

"Whenever you're ready." Eddie nodded.

"Well," you began to explain, "it's just that, sometimes I feel scared, you know? Like... I just have this anxiety that's eating away at me. And I know you've reassured me about this so many times, so I'm sorry. I'm just terrified. I'm terrified that you'll leave me, find someone else better than me, prettier than me, smarter than me, you know? I just don't wanna get hurt again, like I did in my last relationship. I just wanna be enough for you. I'm just scared, Eddie," you looked into his eyes tearfully, "I'm just so fucking scared."

You finished your rambling with a shaky exhale, worried that you were annoying him, that maybe he thought you were overbearing, or having second thoughts about you. You glanced at him, your heart loudly beating against your chest as you waited for his response in nervous anticipation.

Eddie softly smiled at you, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your forehead gingerly before speaking.

"Babe, you have every right to feel the way you do." He assured you quietly.

You perked up, confusion on your face.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," he insisted, "the last guy you were with is a total piece of shit. He made you feel so bad about yourself, so it's understandable that you have these feelings."

Eddie let go of one of your hands, brushing your hair behind your ear, and let out a breathy chuckle.

"But, as I've told you before," he reminded, a grin on his face, "you are absolutely perfect, the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Shit, I can't believe I was able to woo a girl like you! Sweetheart, I can assure you, I would never hurt you. I would never find better than you, because you are the better. You're the best. No one can compete with you. You're more than enough. You're so damn beautiful, inside and out. You make me laugh everyday. You're so god damn smart, you're always so nice, you've put up with all my shitty antics, you've been through hell and back with me- fuck, I'm just rambling now, but the point is; I would never leave you, I would never cheat on you, and I love you more than anything in the world. I know I can be pretty stupid, but I'm not stupid enough to ever do something that would make me lose the best thing that's ever happened to me. And if I have to reassure you that, every second of every day, I'm more than happy to do so, as long as I get to be with you... okay?"

You beamed at him, tears glossing over your eyes, your nerves disappearing and being replaced with joy, love, adoration- every happy emotion that exists, you were feeling it. And it was all because of Eddie.

"Okay?" He repeated himself, squeezing your hands earnestly.

"Okay." You nodded, letting go of his grasp on you and quickly lunging towards him, hugging him tightly, giggling with relief.

Eddie hugged you back, embracing you into his chest as close as possible, your hair tickling his nose, him chuckling against your neck and kissing you all over the side of your face for what seemed to be a hundred times.

"I love you, Eddie," you whispered into his hair, still squeezing him, "thank you."

"I love you more, angel, queen of my life, woman of my dreams," he exclaimed, "but never, ever thank me for that. Deal?"

You let go of him, leaning back, now sitting in his lap.

"Deal."

"So," Eddie started, "how's about that movie?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[incorrectshantaequotes]

MINI-TRANSCRIPT: Hypothetically Speaking

So - had an idea for a comic, kinda like the one I did for the Reversal AU after I finished Huntress Baron's design, buuuuut as I was drawing it, it occurred to me that it would take WAY more work than that one, and as much as I would like to commit to it, I do have real life obligations that make me unsure if I could finish it. But, it was also funny enough that I wanted to make sure people saw what I had in my head somehow...

And then it occurred to me: transcript. I've done this for the Reversal AU plenty of times for hypothetical cutscenes, why can't I do it for general canon Shantae with hypothetical comics? So, here we are! This is going to be shorter than the ones I've done for the Reversal AU, and far more comedy-focused, but I hope you enjoy!

(NOTE: this takes place after Living Memoir. It's not really required reading to understand this, but if you feel curious about how the exact situation described below came to be, go ahead and give it a read!)

[Scene starts inside SHANTAE's house. HOLLY LINGERBEAN is laying down on SHANTAE's couch, reading an opened letter, while SHANTAE is in her pajamas and pouring herself coffee]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Huh. So, you and the zombie girl are together?

SHANTAE: First of all, don't go through my mail. I should not need to explain to you why that's rude. Secondly, yes, we are. It happened a while after the whole...ordeal with you, and I am NOT in the mood to explain right now. So if you have something to say-

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN quickly sits upright and puts her hands up with a placating expression]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Hey, I'm a lesbian too, I'm fine with that! I'm just curious is all!

[SHANTAE looks behind herself, no longer irritated but contemplative]

SHANTAE: ...huh. Well, good for you. Maybe I'll be willing to answer some questions after I've had some breakfast-

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN puts a finger up with a grin, clearly about to say something, when SHANTAE turns her head away with a deadpan expression]

SHANTAE: -made by MYSELF, because I'm not dealing with your sixth attempt to bribe me to ditch my plan to try and guide you to being a better person THIS early in the morning.

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN's eyes widen, and she looks away from SHANTAE's direction while some sweat appears over her forehead]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: I...! Ah...I...wasn't...going to do that...

[SHANTAE and HOLLY LINGERBEAN are silent for a moment, the only sound coming from SHANTAE sipping from her coffee mug]

[Afterwards, HOLLY LINGERBEAN speaks up, her expression more neutral but looking genuine]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: So, have you felt the inside of her disembodied arm?

[SHANTAE promptly does a spit take and whips her head around with an extremely confused and disturbed expression]

SHANTAE: Excuse me??

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Okay, that one was probably a bit much...has she bitten you? Or, well, not actually biting you, obviously, more like...letting her teeth hover just over your unbroken skin?

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Letting you feel her breath run over you, knowing that she could bite down at any moment? That sort of thing?

SHANTAE: ...NO??? Why are you asking me this??

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN puts her hands up again, this time looking defensive]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Hey, I'm just curious! I mean, just, hypothetically speaking, if I was the one with the zombie girlfriend...

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN looks away, almost appearing to be in a daydream as she speaks]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: I kinda figure that'd be part of the appeal, you know? You're looking at someone who's cheated death, in a sense, but death left its scars, and you'd naturally get just as intimate with those as you would with everything else about your girlfriend...

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN gives a wistful sigh, her eyes now closed with a light blush across her face]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: And she wouldn't ever let death take you, no matter what anyone has to say about it...she'd go to the ends of the earth for you - you belong to her, and she belongs to you, forever intertwined, and you'd end up finding comfort in how the two of you will never be apart-

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN's eyes suddenly snap open, her blush now luminescent as she looks like she's just now heard what she's been saying. After a moment of silence, she glances to look at SHANTAE]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: You know. Hypothetically speaking.

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN turns her face away from SHANTAE, hiding the sweat on her face and her nervous grin as she laughs]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: It's not like I've ever THOUGHT about that sort of thing or anything! Or, uh, any OTHER incredibly specific, but still very similar scenarios...that'd be crazy! Hahahahaaaaaaaa...

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN suddenly stands up and walks over to SHANTAE - who, this entire time, has not changed her expression - and places a hand on her shoulder]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Heeeeeey, why don't I make some breakfast for both of us! Completely bribe-free, I promise! We can just sit back, relax, and forget everything I just said back there!

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN pauses, looking to the side, and then looking back at SHANTAE]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Metaphorically. Forever.

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN proceeds to power-walk to the kitchen while SHANTAE stares after her]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: I accept your thanks in advance~!

~~~~

[Several weeks later, SHANTAE is in her regular outfit, stretching in a hotel room on Siren Island, when HOLLY LINGERBEAN bursts into the room, looking distinctly panicked while also blushing]

SHANTAE: Holly? What are you-

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: OK, so I know I haven't been the most receptive about the whole "hero" plan, because I thought it was stupid and you should've just been grateful I wasn't stealing memories anymore, but is there ANY way you could make me a good person in like, three hours? Preferably less? Because I REALLY think-

[SHANTAE promptly grabs HOLLY by the shoulders, now looking mildly concerned]

SHANTAE: Oooooookay, slow down! Holly, what is going ON? I mean, normally I'd be really grateful for the turnaround, but this is kinda freaking me out. Seriously, what on earth brought this on?

[HOLLY LINGERBEAN looks away, still blushing]

HOLLY LINGERBEAN: Well, there's this lobster girl, and she's really nice, and she was concerned about me, and I would let her drag me to the bottom of the ocean but that's not important, but we've been hanging out, and she's REALLY nice, and if she finds out I'm a bad person and doesn't like me I will DIE!

[SHANTAE pauses for a moment, a buffering icon appearing over her head as she processes HOLLY LINGERBEAN's statement, before looking at her with surprise]

SHANTAE: ...you have a crush on Lobster Siren? I mean, I'm happy for you, don't get me wrong, but I'm honestly surprised. I mean, she really doesn't seem like your...type...

[It is at that exact moment that SHANTAE'S expression becomes more deadpan as two memories float to the top of her head, illustrated by a thought bubble - the first is LOBSTER SIREN appearing right behind SHANTAE without warning, causing her to yelp in surprise and mild terror, and the second is LOBSTER SIREN eating a raw fish, looking confused as to why SHANTAE looks so horrified]

SHANTAE: ...on second thought, never mind. I think I can guess why she appeals so much to you.