#and that is. uh. bad. to live through with no end in sight.

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ part 2

Part 1 - Master list

Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 

He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 

Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 

He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 

His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 

The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 

When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 

The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 

Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 

What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?

“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 

“Just Phantom is fine.” 

Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 

He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 

“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 

“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 

“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 

“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 

“Not if it’s your name.” 

“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 

“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 

Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 

“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 

“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 

“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 

They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 

Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 

Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 

“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 

Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 

Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 

“Yes, but not this Earth.” 

Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 

“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 

“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 

“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 

There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  

When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 

“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 

Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 

Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 

“Of course.” 

Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 

Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 

“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 

“Eighteen.” Tim said. 

“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 

“The bridge?” 

“Balance. The living and the dead.” 

Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  

Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 

“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 

Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 

Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 

“Exactly.” 

“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 

“Exactly.” 

Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 

“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 

“I’ll put them at ease then.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 

“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 

It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 

Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 

“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 

They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 

He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 

The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 

“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 

“You cook?” 

“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 

Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 

Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 

“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 

“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 

Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 

Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 

“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 

“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 

It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 

They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 

He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 

“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 

“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”

“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 

“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 

Tim stared, “What?” 

Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 

“Yeah?” 

The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 

They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 

“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”

The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 

Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 

“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 

Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 

“I gotta kill my brother…” 

Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.

“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 

“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 

“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 

Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 

“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…

[sturniolothinkr]

sleepy ⋆ matt sturniolo

summary: you’re drained after work, seeking to cuddle matt. instead, you mistake chris for him.

contains: fluff, a bit of jealous!matt, best friend!chris, light cursing, use of y/n.

word count: 968

a/n: based off the ask i sent to @dazednmatthews a while ago :) im sorry if its not good, im still nervous about writing on here 😭

the day felt never ending. you were on your feet the entire day, having to do more than usual at work due to the amount of call outs that happened.

you were exhausted, and feeling very drained overall. you promised matt you would go over there to hang out when you were off, and all you wanted to do was take a hot shower then take a nap with him.

as soon as you made it to your boyfriend’s house after work, you let yourself in and headed straight for his shower before anything else.

the hot water felt soothing against your sore muscles, your eyes shutting as you grew more and more tired. you did your best to hurry up with your shower, washing your hair and body quickly and rinsing yourself off. the sooner you got out, the sooner you could sleep.

once you were done, you shut off the shower and stepped out. you dried yourself off, before hurrying into matt’s room with the towel wrapped around you.

a frown made its way onto your face when you took notice that matt wasn’t in his room like you thought he would be. you figured he was in the living room, so you shrugged it off as you dressed yourself in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts.

as soon as you were done, you tossed the used towel into his laundry basket before you left his room. you rubbed your eyes tiredly as you walked to the living room, hearing the tv playing an episode of spongebob.

there was a sleepy smile on your face as you spotted who you thought was your boyfriend sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. you plopped down next to him, immediately curling up beside him and resting your head on his shoulder as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

“uh..” chris began, looking away from his phone to look at you then around the room in confusion. “y/n? what are you doing?” he added, his eyebrows furrowing as he was processing what was going on.

you reached a hand up and put your finger to his lips, “sh. tired.” you mumbled, dropping your hand as you let your eyes finally fall shut.

chris let out a quiet laugh, wondering if you knew it was him and didn’t care or if you were just so tired that you thought he was matt. either way, he found it funny and he felt too bad to reject your sleepy state.

he could tell you were very clearly exhausted and must’ve had a long day, so he was letting it slide.

“love you, matt.” you mumbled, your hand holding his arm now.

chris held back the loud laugh that threatened to escape, pressing his lips together as he used his free hand to pat your head. “yup. love you too, y/n.” he replied, knowing matt was going to be so confused when he came back from the store.

it didn’t take long for you to completely fall asleep, your weight leaning into chris as he returned to his scrolling on his phone. he lowered the volume on both the tv and his phone, as a way to not disturb you, remaining unmoving so you could continue to rest peacefully.

about twenty minutes went by, when he heard the garage door opening and the sound of matt’s car pulling in. chris held back his laugh as he imagined the look on his brother’s face, seeing his girlfriend cuddling him instead as she slept soundly.

the sound of matt and nick bickering was heard once they entered the house, footsteps making their way up the stairs.

“no, i’m just saying that-“ matt cut himself off when he rounded the corner and caught view of you and chris together on the couch.

matt stopped in his steps, taking in the sight with an eyebrow raised and the grocery bags hanging from his hands.

“alright, so i must be seeing things cause what the fuck?” he finally spoke up, as chris began to laugh.

your boyfriend set down the groceries as he made his way toward the couch, taking in the view of you cuddling up to his brother with his arm locked in your grip and your head resting on his shoulder. your lips were slightly parted, and it was obvious you were deep in sleep.

“listen, okay, she’s so tired that she thought i was you. i didn’t want to move her or some shit! look at her, she’s so peaceful.” chris began to defend himself, trying to keep his voice a bit quiet.

matt shook his head, while nick laughed from behind him.

“oh, this is so good.” nick said, giggling as he pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a few pictures.

matt huffed and made his way around the couch to sit down on the other side of you. his hands were on you in seconds, protectively pulling you into his side instead.

a noise of complaint left your lips, a sleepy mumble of “fuck off” coming from you as your comfortable position was being moved by your boyfriend.

that only made chris laugh harder, as he threw his head back against the couch cushion and clapped his hands together.

your boyfriend hushed you, wrapping his arm comfortably around you. “sorry, baby. i’m here.” he whispered, feeling your body relax as you heard his voice in your half asleep state.

you mumbled something he couldn’t pick up, easily falling back asleep as matt glared at chris who kept bragging about you cuddling him.

“yeah, yeah. enjoy it while you had it. that was the first and final time.” matt stated, his hand gently playing with your hair while a scowl was on his face.

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green| Part 01

A good idea not thought through.

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst, suggestive, mentioned smut but sfw

Length: 3.7k Words

-> Masterlist

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When Jimin had set this whole date up, Jungkook had expected.. Nothing, really.  

As far as he knows, he’s supposed to meet you at the restaurant right here, and you supposedly know exactly which table he sits at- but what he did not expect, was for you to be so.. Pretty.  

You’re clearly a fox hybrid, distinctive hybrid features standing out, very much well taken care of. The second you sit down, he notices even the shape of your pupils being the same as a common fox’s, though they don’t make him feel intimidated at all. Not as they should, at least.  

Jungkook remembers the teasing jokes back in school, or the struggle to earn his spot even later in life as a prey hybrid. Many people still believe that he’s not a good fit for a leading position in his company as a rabbit, unable to apparently make important decisions with a realistic view on things or not mentally strong enough to withstand the stress of responsibility. But he’s not just a meek little bunny.  

And from the looks of it, you’re not a dangerous predator either.  

“Well, Jimin wasn’t lying when he told me you were.. Cute.” You say, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath- and you take it as a bad sign, instantly going back on your words. “Not as in, not-to-be-taken-seriously-cute, but like- uh.. Your ears just look.. Pretty?” You tell him, and at that, his eyes move to look at you from the rim of his wineglass, one of his mentioned black rabbit ears slowly standing up.  

Silver piercings are decorating it. It’s an uncommon sight- but you decide it fits him.  

“...thanks.” He nods, before he licks his lips, and averts his eyes. “I apologize, It’s been.. A while since I’ve been on a date.” He shamefully admits, but you wave him off.  

“It’s not a problem.” You deny. “I don’t go on dates often either.” 

“How come?” He wonders, seeing an opportunity to spark some smalltalk, so he can find out a little more about you.  

“Just.. Not the time. And no partner to go on one with.” You giggle, thanking the waitress for your glass of wine. “I’m usually pretty busy with work.”  

“Work?” He asks, and you nod, your pretty fox ears suddenly standing tall with pride, tail swinging behind you. It’s pretty cute, in his humble opinion.  

“I’m an author!” You beam happily. “I write children’s books, and fantasy novels.” You explain, and Jungkook’s thoughts instantly go back to his daughter, currently in the care of Jimin at his house. Did you write a book she’s seen before?  

“Children’s books?” He wonders, feeling a bit stupid for just asking you, and never giving you anything in return.  

“Yep.” You chirp. “Mostly.. Very simple one’s. Ages 4 to 7.” You explain. “And you? What do you do for a living if I may ask?” You wonder, resting your chin on your hands.  

“I’m.. The vice president of HLC at the moment. Hopefully I might get a promotion at some point.” He chuckles, and your eyes widen.  

“Wow.. That's. Okay, that’s huge.” You laugh a bit uneasy now.  

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He wonders, a bit confused. Both of his ears are up now, his body becoming more and more comfortable with your presence.  

“A little?” You admit. You’re honest, it seems like. He already decides it’s a very positive point. “I feel a little.. Out of your league, so to say.” You say a bit jokingly, taking a sip from your wine. He shakes his head.  

“Don't worry about it.” He denies, reassuring you. “We both have our places in life.”  

“So it seems.” You nod, while you wait for your dinner to be served.  

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A place Jungkook had not seen you in his life, was beneath him, in his bed.  

But that’s exactly where you’ve ended up, most of your clothes already having been stripped from your bodies, lying somewhere in the bedroom. He honestly blamed his attraction to you on his hormones at first, and the fact that he’d neglected his natural need for physical intimacy for so long due to his single-father situation, but in this moment, he knows that it’s more than just that.  

And that just screams trouble.  

But right now, Jungkook can’t make himself think of anything other than you beneath his hands, skin warm as you push your bare behind right into him. He’d technically wanted to drive you home, a simple act of chivalry since your date had honestly been very nice, but somehow, you ended up agreeing to at least let the night come to an end in a more relaxed atmosphere at his apartment, since you told him that you’ve always dreamed to live in a apartment high up with a view of the city skyline.  

He really just wanted to show you the view. He really doesn’t know when you both started to make out.  

But he knows that it’s something you both clearly want- your hands holding onto his bedsheets almost impatiently, while he’s busy wrapping the condom over his length. If the situation was just a little different, Jungkook could see you both getting along a lot longer than for just this- but he’s got responsibilities, and he can’t just bring someone into his life without thinking about it long enough.  

And also, with his daughter still at such a vulnerable age, there’s just no way she’d accept you. 

Initially, he’d keep it at this. You’re in perfect breeding position, face in the pillows, behind pushed into him- but he has to see you. It’s not some magical connection type of thing, just simple attraction, and maybe, just maybe, his inner need to at least pretend for a moment that he’s just a young guy being together with his girlfriend- even though that’s never going to be the truth.  

Just for a moment, he wants to pretend.  

Just for one night.  

On your end, this is just an adventure you’ve never been on before. Jimin had told you to come out of your shell a little, be a bit wild for once, and meet his best friend who’s got a ‘just as dry’ intimate life as you did. And you can’t deny that this friend- Jungkook- is anything but charming, and attractive. Despite being a prey hybrid, he’s oozing a certain sense of confidence that’s not overbearing, but simply comfortable to be around.  

But all good things must come to an end- and to spare the poor young man the awkwardness, you get up in the middle of the night- early morning, barely three AM.  

Putting on your clothes, and somewhat fixing your hair, you carefully make sure to write a small note to leave on his kitchen table. Your face is already bare, since you both did shower yesterday before going to bed- so you don’t have to worry about that.  

Maybe he’d like to meet you again? Well, you surely left your number on the note for him to reach out to, if he so decides to do so.  

However, just as you try and walk out, you notice something.. Odd.  

A small, childrens-size pale green wintercoat, hanging on the wall next to the entrance. Tiny shoes, green, frog-themed rain boots, and an equally themed little umbrella hanging on the wall as well, next to what you assume must be Jungkook’s clothes. These things clearly belong to a child- and now that you pay more attention to it, you do smell the uniquely scent profile of a kid in the apartment.  

And the scents are too alike to deny that it must be his.  

Panic starts to bubble up inside you. If he has a child, there must be a mother to it as well, right? Maybe not, but the chance is too high for you to really take any chances. Jimin didn’t mention that at all- if he’d told you that this rabbit wanted to cheat and not just ‘go on a date’, you would’ve never agreed to it! ��

Did you just become a homewrecker?  

You’re taking a step to take your note with you again, but you instead hear Jungkook move around in his bedroom, sleepily calling out your name- and that makes your instincts go haywire, as you instead basically rip the door open after somewhat slipping into your heels, and fetching your small handbag from the floor near the way too cute rainboots staring at you oh-so innocently.  

The door snaps shut behind you, and you don’t look back as you rush down and into the elevator, leaving the fancy apartment building and this whole mistake behind. 

Already fuming as you call Jimin, uncaring about the time. 

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“I’m so sorry!” Jimin apologizes to Jungkook, who just sighs as he washes Minji’s plastic dishes in the sink, while the little girl is occupied on the couch, watching her favorite show before bed. “I didn’t think you both would end up here though-” 

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” The young father denies, putting every piece of cutlery on the side to dry later. “It’s not like it would’ve worked out anyways. I just wish she knew that this was just a huge misunderstanding.” He clarifies, turning off the faucet before he grabs a towel to dry the dishes.  

“I tried explaining it to her, really.” Jimin whines, feeling incredibly guilty for screwing this up so badly for his friend. “But she doesn’t believe me at all.” He sighs, sitting down.  

“Like I said, it’s not like it would’ve worked out.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Minji already got nervous when Taehyung dropped her off this morning already just because her scent lingered.” 

“But.. Isn't there, like, any way of getting her used to it?” Jimin wonders. “Like, I swear I’ve seen predator-prey couples with a prey child, and they looked fine to me.”  

“Rare.” Jungkook just shrugs, putting the plastic cutlery and dishes away in their respective places. “It’s really fine. I just hope she doesn’t feel guilty about things, or believes that she was just some sort of.. Body for me to use.” He says, ears low against his head, simply flopping down. It’s obvious that Jungkook is upset about it all. Because from what Jimin had told him, you’d felt horrible, believing that you were some part in him cheating on the mother of his child- unaware that she’s not even in the picture, and hasn’t been for years.  

“I’m gonna try and convince her one way or another.” Jimin sighs. “Really, this is so fucked up. The main reason I tried setting you both up WAS Minji!” He whines to himself, thanking Jungkook for the glass of water he offers him, before the young father sits down across from him at the kitchen table. 

“What do you mean?” He wonders.  

“She loves kids!” The human reveals. “She really does, but she herself can’t have any. Which I think might be why she feels so strongly in this situation.” He explains, making Jungkook sigh.  

Well, that just makes him feel so much worse.  

“There’s got to be a way to make this right somehow.” Jimin complains to himself, while looking over at Minji, who’s busy watching the TV with her favourite plush toy in her lap keeping her company. “I’m really sorry. I thought.. I don’t know. I forgot that because you’re two different hybrids, you might not get along too well..” He says, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“I.. We got along very well, actually. I really liked her. Or rather, still like her.” He chuckles a bit bitterly to himself. “But I guess finding a partner is out of the question for me, at least until Minnie is a bit older.”  

“A bit older? Jungkook, you said she probably will stay scared of predator hybrids until she’s what? Twelve?” His human friend reminds him.  

“...generally, yeah.” He shrugs.  

“Jungkook, no. That can’t.. I refuse to accept that.” He shakes his head. “I’ll explain it all to her, I promise, and you’ll try and make this work with Minji when the time comes. Please.” Jimin says. “I don’t want to see you so lonely all the time.” 

“I’m not lonely- I have Minji.” Jungkook refuses.  

“You know what I mean.” Jimin presses.  

“...alright.” Jungkook sighs. “If- IF- you somehow work it out with her, and she wants to.. Talk, give her my number. And not the office phone, please.” He runs a hand over his face, before he gets up with his friend to bring him to the door. “But don’t pressure her. If she doesn’t want to see me again, that’s fine too.”  

“I won’t.” Jimin promises. “Promise.” 

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You’re sitting in front of Jungkook again, in a public cafe, a hot cup of milky coffee in front of you, while he seems equally as nervous with his own iced americano in his hands, fingers tracing the pearling condensation a little.  

“So.” You start, looking at him, nervously licking your lips.  

“So.” He nods. “I have a child.”  

“So I’ve noticed.” You answer him, legs swinging a bit back and forth, due to the chair being a bit too high for you. 

“Her mother.. Left, pretty much a few weeks after she was born.” He explains in a neutral tone, staring down at his beverage. “No one really has an answer why. But she just.. It was as if she was disgusted with her own child, pretty much right after birth.” Jungkook recites the events. “Didn’t want to hold her, got angry when she cried, refused to take care of her. We thought it might just.. Be postpartum depression?” He leans his head to the side a little. “It happens more than one might think, after all. But it never got any better.” He shakes his head. “So.. We decided to split up, and I took care of Minji by myself.” 

“Did she ever.. Maybe reach out?” You wonder, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“She re-married again. Lives in Italy now, with her new husband and stepchildren.” He chuckles a bit. “I’m happy she’s happy, you know? Just wish it went a little different.” He honestly reveals.  

“How old is Minji?” You wonder, dreading the answer. Because from both the scent and the size of the clothes and shoes in his home, she must be young. 

“She’s three and a half.” He reveals, and both of you become quiet.  

Oh. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. With his daughter this young, there’s just no way you could ever move forward with your friendship even- considering you’re still a predator hybrid at the end of the day, something that surely will scare the poor little bunny half to death. Why do you always have to get crushes on the worst possible people? 

“Well, I’m sure.. She’s very lucky to have you as a dad.” You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. “And you’ll soon find a proper partner as well. You’re very likable after all.” You praise, praying that he can’t see the way your eyes begin to water.  

“I’m sorry.” He answers, and his voice sounds just as dissappointed as he feels. “I.. Wish we would’ve met under different circumstances.” 

“Then you wouldn’t have Minji.” You deny, spotting two drops of your tears having fallen onto the table. “Sorry, I’m a crybaby...” You say, fetching a tissue from your handbag.  

“We could still try-” He starts, but you shake your head.  

“No, she’s gonna be terrified of me, I don’t wanna scare her.” You refuse, drying your cheeks with a good amount of embarrassment, large fox ears pinned back in shame of it all.  

“Minji is a lot braver than one might think.” Jungkook chuckles, reaching out to help you wipe off your slightly smudged mascara from beneath your eyes. “She just.. She might just be a bit shy. Or very shy, most likely.” He adds, and you giggle a bit.  

“Jungkook.. I’m sorry I’m me.” You say, but he shakes his head, smiling at you.  

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that.”  

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You decide to meet up again at Jimin’s birthday party- the human having invited you both, and Minji as well for the dinner he’d organized at his favourite restaurant in town. You’ll have the whole venue for yourselves to make it both easier for the staff, and everyone attending.  

Jungkook is nervous in his seat, Minji next to him in her seat, happily coloring in her little book that he brought with him to keep her occupied, different shades of green crayons all over her spot at the table.  

It’s then that the door to the restaurant opens, and you step in, together with Min Yoongi- a coworker and fellow predator hybrid whom you’ve befriended a few years ago, or so Jimin said. The big cat hybrid is apparently a tiger- though his ears and tail aren’t even slightly orange, instead monochrome white and black, his light eyes proving the fact that he’s not a standard.  

But, Jungkook can’t look at him for too long, because he’s too busy blatantly staring at you instead, with your pretty face, dressed up for the occasion. So much so, that Minji has to pull on his sleeve to get his attention back, looking at him before she tilts her head, small bunny ears in between her hair moving on a constant, since so much is going on.  

This will be it. If she gets too scared, he’ll have to go home early- and basically bury his hope of ever building something with you.  

But even though she does seem nervous, she’s not yet scared- instead clinging to her father by instinct, who’s calm, mostly that is. “Come, let’s say hi to everyone, yeah?” He offers her, and she reluctantly gets up with him, clinging to his hand while they both walk towards Yoongi and you, who’s just hanging up your coat.  

“Long time no see.” Jungkook offers Yoongi, who nods and shakes his hand politely, before he leans down to make himself as small as he can, in hopes of maybe getting at least something out of the little girl- but she instead steps behind Jungkook, the predator hybrid too intimidating. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh don’t be. She grew quite a lot in a year.” Yoongi dismisses, while you reluctantly walk closer, politely moving to shake Jungkook’s hand as well- but the rabbit hybrid instead moves to give you a hug, despite his daughter being so close. And much to your surprise, this action alone seems to spark Minji’s interest- her head poking around Jungkook’s legs, just to look at you curiously, especially your fluffy tail that’s nervously swaying from side to side behind you.  

“Say hello, Minji.” Jungkook urges her, but as if snapped out from her trance, she shakes her head, instead running back to her seat at the table where she picks up her crayons once more.  

“She’s cute.” You say, earning Jungkook’s attention back. “Looks.. A lot like you.” You mention, and he nods.  

“I know. A lot of people tell me she’s like.. A mini-version of me.” He chuckles, walking towards his own spot next to his daughter. “Do you.. Want to sit next to me?” He wonders, and you nod, accepting happily. Sitting next to him will get Minji used to your scent, while also putting a safety barrier between her and him, so she can figure you out from afar.  

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.  

Something you’re very much surprised about, is that throughout the entire evening, the little hybrid girl does not seem to complain whatsoever. Not once does she get fidgety, or whiny about sitting in one spot for too long- and once she does, Jungkook is quick and skilled in handling her well, calming her down or occupying her attention for a moment.  

Though, at some point, she does get up and roam around a little, under the watchful eye of her father of course.  

You’re currently talking to Jungkook about your work, when you notice something on your tail, one slight look from you revealing that it’s the little girl, carefully running her small hands over the fur, interest too great to really let her inner fear control her. You know she’s on high alert- ears standing tall and completely turned towards you, motions freezing entirely when she notices that you’ve noticed her.  

Jungkook smiles at his daughter. “It’s pretty, hm?” He asks her, and nods, before she reaches out to have him pick her up and sit her on his lap, where she stares at you, now a lot more bold in the arms of her father. She’s visibly taking your entire appearance in, before she looks at Jungkook again, attempting to pull one of his jet-black rabbit ears, making him laugh and gently prevent her from doing so. “What do you want with dad’s ears, huh?” He jokingly scolds. “You’ve got your own, right there!” He reminds her, gently pulling her own equally dark ears, which makes her laugh.  

You can’t help but smile fondly at the interaction.  

That is until suddenly, the little girl boldly reaches out for your ears now- something that makes you both surprised and excited- your head leaning closer so she can clumsily grab at your ears, laughing most likely at how soft they are. It clearly makes Jungkook hopeful, his own tail wiggling around without his own knowledge as he watches the short but warm interaction with you two.  

It’s obvious that while Jungkook is around, she feels comfortable and safe enough to interact with you- but as soon as his attention is somewhere else, she becomes more withdrawn and suspicious again, which is natural. But the fact that she’s not panicking at least, is already a great sign.  

Maybe there’s a chance.  

Maybe this could really work.  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 4

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Masterlist)

Author’s note: I love this series and I want to thank everyone who comments/reblogs/likes. I love you all and it gives me so much motivation to keep working on this series 💕

Cassian limped out of his room, using the wall for support as he walked into the living room.

“Sweetheart, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?”

You and Feyre had been in the kitchen making waffles, but the two of you make your way over to Cassian to help him, abandoning the batter you were making. You grab the ice pack from the freezer and a hand towel to wrap around it, while Feyre walks over to help ease Cassian onto the couch, helping him prop his leg up on the coffee table.

You place the ice pack on his knee, grabbing a throw pillow and placing it under his leg.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask, concern etched onto your brows.

He sighs, “just my knee flares up if I do too much, and I got a little ambitious with the girl I hooked up with last night.”

Feyre snorts as he waggles his eyebrows. You sit on the arm of the couch facing him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cassian leans his head back on the couch, “yeah can you grab my pain meds? They’re probably in my bathroom.”

You scuttle off after he tells you what the bottle looks like, walking through his room into his bathroom. You’re not surprised at how messy it is, clothes litter the floor and papers are strewn across his desk.

You can hear Feyre and Cassian talking but can’t make out what they’re saying as you begin your search. You search through his drawers and medicine cabinet, finding various medicines, condoms, and even pads, but not the bottle he described. The sight of the pads reminds you of a story Mor told where she had told Cassian she was on her period and his response was, “let’s get messy, baby.” You shake the memory away, heading back to tell him the bad news.

“Bad news bud - no medicine.”

He groans, “where the hell did I have it last?” He starts muttering to himself, hoping he didn’t leave it at the gym, when he points to you.

“It’s next door - Az has it. I stuffed it in his gym bag. Could you go check for me?”

Last time you saw Azriel, you had fallen asleep on his thighs, most likely drooling over them in your slumber.

You woke up to a dark room, the tv screen black with disuse. You lift your head, your hand using the pillow to push yourself up. You move your head to find hazel eyes looking into your own.

Your head is a few inches off his thigh, your hand wrapped around it for support.

“Um, hi,” you say, a moment later realizing your hand was on his thigh, quickly pulling it away. You take a quick moment to check the side of your mouth with your hand, praying to any god that will listen that you weren’t drooling on him.

“Hi,” he tells you, “you missed a good movie.”

“Rain check?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?”

“If you ask me, no, but if you ask my friend Feyre, the answer is likely yes.”

He laughs, and you realize his hand is in your hair, as he untangles your hair from his fingers.

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to keep watching it until eventually you make it to the end.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cass.”

You start to leave, but Feyre grabs your arm. “I just told Cassian about how we’re going axe throwing. I invited him and his brothers.”

Feyre winks at you as she’s turned away from Cassian, and you give her a look.

Nosey busybody. All because you had told her you fell asleep on Azriel last night. And how he was so kind to help you drop the truck off. And how damningly beautiful he was.

Curse your big mouth.

“You should ask them if they want to come while you’re over there. Cassian’s coming, if they’ll find that enticing.”

Her words mean one thing, but her eyebrow waggling screams, I don’t think Cassian will be the reason one of them comes.

You wander over next door, knocking as you approach their door. Your mind starts wandering while you wait for a response, and you wonder if they used to always meet in Rhys and Az’s apartment.

Your thoughts still when Azriel opens the door, surprise on his face as he looks at you. He’s shirtless, his tan chest on full display, some black shadow-esque tattoos adorning his shoulders. Your eyes trace the design, roving over his muscular chest.

You want to lick them.

You shake the intrusive thought away, and Azriel grins ever so slightly at your blatant ogling of him. You tell him, “Uh Cassian’s knee is acting up and he said he thinks his meds are in your gym bag?”

He opens the door wider, letting you in. “What’d he do to mess up his knee this time?”

You follow him as he leads you into the apartment, your words dying on your tongue, “something about getting too ambitious with a girl - what the fuck?”

Azriel stops to find you staring at their tv, an absolutely massive screen mounted to their wall. It practically takes up most of the wall, and you imagine watching a movie on it would feel life-sized. “And I thought Cassian had the biggest tv I’d ever seen.”

Azriel chuckles, “they got drunk one night and started having a pissing contest over who was bigger, and it escalated to them both buying absurdly large televisions.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of them drunkenly purchasing tvs online, forgetting about the ordeal until they appeared a few days later, Cassian refusing to use Rhys’s tv for a week in solidarity of his manhood.

You two start moving towards Azriel’s room, worry brewing in your mind over what to do. To follow could be overstepping, to linger could be weird. He leaves his door wide open, looking back to see if you’re following, so you decide to be brave and step through his door.

His room is dark, black out curtains with tiny moons sewn into them adorning his windows. His bed is neatly made, a deep blue comforter laying on top. Your eyes are drawn to the little bat stuffed animal that sits on his pillows.

His room is neat - dirty clothes kept in a hamper in the corner, books neatly stacked on his nightstand and on a bookshelf. He even has paper tray organizers on his desk.

His laptop is open at his desk, the screen still lit with whatever he was doing before you knocked. You see a familiar photo of you and Mor on the screen before it cuts to black, leaving you confused.

You shake the thoughts away, telling him “I like the little bat.”

He stills, looking over at the thing. His face falls a bit, but he quickly corrects it, going back to his search for the bag.

“Thanks, Cass got it for me.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him.

You breathe deeply, the air in the room shifting, but you’re not really sure why. You don’t want this to be the end of your interaction with him, so you ask, “so Cassian told me you’re a personal trainer?”

He bends over to pick up his gym bag from the floor, your eyes roving down his toned back to the shorts that generously show off his thighs. Maybe you could join their gym if you got to see him like this, tanned thighs and chest on full display.

“Yeah, he helped me get the job, actually. I’ve been working a lot more over the summer, trying to save money for when classes are in session.”

You nod, as he finds the bottle in his bag. “Do you like it?”

He walks back over to you, escorting you out of his room. “S’okay. Cassian’s much better at it than I am, but it’s not hard.”

You nod, wondering how both of them are at their jobs. You can imagine Cassian being loud and rambuctious, a personality trait you can’t see him without. Shouting motivational words as you squat. On the other hand you can see Azriel being calm, quiet, his presence hardly noticeable as you train, offering occasional motivation but knowing what his clients actually need is just someone there.

He reaches his hand out to give you the bottle, and you break your eye contact with him to grab it. His fingers brush over your hand, electricity crackling on your skin from his touch.

You look at his hands, noticing them for the first time. Covered in scars, the skin is scarred over, the texture rough and uneven. His touch is soft and warm, a contrast to the harshness of his hands. You don’t let your eyes linger on his hand for too long, worrying you’re invading his privacy.

You duck your head down, fighting the heat on your cheeks from his touch. If he notices, he doesn’t let on as you pull your hand back with the bottle, uncertain how long your hands had been in contact.

“Thanks I um, Cassian will appreciate this.” You give him a toothless smile, one that he matches. His eyes have a look about them, but you can’t spend too long thinking about it, especially considering Feyre was likely conspiring with Cassian as you two spoke.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before,” you say, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells you.

Your hand stills on the knob and you turn to look back at him. “Are you doing anything today? Around 3?”

He shakes his head no, “not really - why?”

“My friend Feyre and I are going to go to this place to try out axe throwing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with?”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you continue before he can reject you.

“Um Cassian’s coming, and Rhys is invited too if he wanted to come. It’s no big deal if you guys don’t want to - Feyre and I probably won’t be any good.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he realizes you’re rambling. Despite how cute he finds it, how cute he finds you, he cuts you off. “I’ll come - I’ll text Rhys too.”

You smile broadly at him, a sight he’ll definitely be thinking about until he sees you again, “okay, um yeah I’ll uh see you then? You can come over to our place and we can all leave together.”

You’re about to leave again when you backtrack, “uh, come over at 2:30 so we can leave together. See you then!”

After you’ve left, he listens to your feet pad down the hall, and the door to the apartment next door opening and closing. He looks to the wall that separates your apartments, as if he can see you giving Cassian the medicine.

He trudges back to his room, furling and unfurling his fist, his skin hot from your touch. The image of you looking at his hands printed in his brain. You didn’t look at him in pity, perhaps the first person to do so. You looked at him like he was resilient, like he was more than what happened to him, like he was more than the scars littering his hands.

He lets the thoughts whirl in his brain as he logs back into his laptop, the screen lighting up with your social media pages he had been scrolling through. He tells himself it’s just to see who Cassian is living with and if she can be trusted, if she seems okay. He also decides if she happens to be seeing anyone is also pertinent information.

For Cassian’s safety, of course.

[clamenstell]

more lovesick!gojo cause this man lives rent free in my head 😔 (also cause u guys seem to really like him too 😳)

- lovesick!gojo who purposefully gets himself injured just so you can treat his wounds and nurse him back to health. "How'd you get this hurt Satoru?" "Uh, I don't know, just happens I guess," he shrugs but in reality he asked Suguru to use his curses to hurt him on purpose. "Can't you ask Shoko to heal your wounds?" "She's busy and I can't treat these myself~" "What happened to your untouchable infinity?~" "...It's a work in progress." you don't believe him.

- lovesick!gojo who hangs around your dorm during his free time whenever he can because he loves your presence and want to be close to you. 

- lovesick!gojo who barges in without knocking the door since you got used to him coming in whenever, but this time was a bad time. You were changing when you heard your door burst open with a loud obnoxious voice yelling "I'm bored! Let's do something! :D" "😦" "😨😨😨" You've never seen someone shut the door so fast. "I am soo sorry. Oh my god." you can hear him mumble through the door.

- lovesick!gojo who's face was entirely red as he covered his face with his hand, head leaning against the very door that separated him and your half dressed self.

- lovesick!gojo who swears he would gouge his eyes out if you asked him but at the same time feel blessed for being able to see a sight he thought he would never see, he feels like a young pubescent teen all over again. You forgave him as you know it was an accident but he still bought you pastries as an apology.

- lovesick!gojo who feels his face heat up whenever he sees you as the thought of you half dressed would pop up and make him flustered, making his cheeks red.

- lovesick!gojo who acts stupid when it comes to homework so that he could ask for your help and try to score a study date with you. "Hey can you help me with question 4 🥺?" "Sure :)" "That question is so easy what are you talki-" Suguru, who has to deal with his sad attempt at flirting, likes to interrupts sometimes, good thing Satoru has a good reflex and slaps his palm over the cockblocker's mouth.

- lovesick!gojo who loves sitting next to you when you host a movie night with the others, especially when it's late at night as your sleepy self would lean your head on his shoulder for support, he could smell the fragrance of your shampoo and feel the gentle rise of your breathing.

- lovesick!gojo who has never been so still in his life to not wake you up, even if the movie ends he would rather stay here all night to be close to you. When Suguru and Shoko notices, they would make kissy faces and all he could do is flip them off while his ears redden.

- lovesick!gojo who loves doing little things like covering the corner of the table when you lean down to pick something up, or making sure you're walking on the inside of the road when you two walked down the streets, or when raining he made sure you were fully covered under the umbrella even if his shoulder is exposed to the rain (dw he has infinity). Even if you don't notice, he wants to show his love through small actions (you do notice it :)).

- lovesick!gojo who's heart jumps out his throat when you snuck a kiss to his cheek when he brought your favourite pastry, smiling sweetly at him.

- lovesick!gojo who remains still in shock as his whole face burst in red as you grab his hand and held up the pastries he bought, "Let's share them :)" Humming softly and dragging him back to your dorm by the hand, squeezing his softly, to share the sweet treat and maybe watch a movie, just the two of you <3

- lovesick!gojo who swears he can die happy and fulfilled as you two sit shoulder to shoulder and watched digimon together (you know he loves it).

- lovesick!gojo who wishes he could pause this very moment if he could, forget being the strongest as long as he could stay by your side, holding your hand and kissing your cheek <3

- lovesick!gojo who's on cloud nine and can't stop grinning the next day that Suguru and Shoko look at him weird. "What's with his face," Shoko turns to you, sticking a thumb in Satoru's direction and you only smile. "Gross," Suguru grumbles, figuring out the reason and Satoru gasp. "You're just jealous that I bagged the most gorgeous woman ever!" wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek. "I bet you weren't even the one who confessed," Suguru snickers earning a 'Hey!' from your pouting boyfriend, who you love very much <3

- lovesick!gojo who finally gets the chance to kiss you under the moonlight, who kisses you with such tenderness, pouring all his feelings into it, holding your cheek with one hand and holding your waist with the other. Turning his head to deepen the kiss, he never wants to forget this feeling, the feeling of your soft lips against his and the feeling of finally having you in his arms. Pulling away to breath, you both smile as he lean your foreheads together. Gods, he's just so in love with you.

not as good as the last one but hope you guys enjoyed it none the less :)

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

hello hello can i ask for reader (either new transfer or someone they're just consulting with) hellbent on avoiding and not talking to spencer bcs he keeps rambling off about stuff everytime they're in his vicinity but they just have a really bad history of men mansplaining things to them so even tho spencer doesn't give off that vibe they just can't help but be sensitive to it 😔🤲🏻

tweaked jussst a bit gn!reader. i need to work on making my brain bigger so i can give more detail for spencer.

“well there many ways one can create their own bomb. they could use proper chemical equipment or just simple house hold items you can buy from anywhere.”

“well actually there’s only four ways to create one and most people go the homemade route. which is the most difficult to trace due to them being bought in plain sight.” a tall, skinny agent beside a man in the well pressed suit just reiterated what you said. you took an exhale through your nose to withhold an eye roll.

“yes, what i said. sulfuric acid is a common ingredient so i’d look into people’s recent purchases and cross reference that with their past criminal history.” you moved around lab as you shuffled and stacked papers, “if you need anymore help seems you already have someone with the answers. good luck.” leaving the two federal agents behind as you exited into the hallway with a tiny chip sitting on your shoulder.

what was the reason to seek you out if they already had someone who’d know their answers? probably once they saw who you were they wanted to intimidate you, that one guy wanted to show off that he knew the same information as you. no one ever gave you the respect in this department, many ‘colleagues’ have taken credit for work that you’ve done. they always talk over you or explain a concept that you already knew, seeing as you were in the same field as said mansplainer.

“someone looks to be in a mood.” oh great, if your hour couldn’t get worse. you didn’t bother looking at dr. fray, he was said mansplainer that always thought he was more inept when really you have a higher standing than him.

“since you left those agents on their own i stepped up to help them by giving further detail into their investigation. just helped save some lives, no big dealio.” your periphery saw how he walked with a certain air about him, one that many men carry without a care in the world.

you rolled your eyes as you kept walking to your office, “whatever. they already have someone who knows this information so we weren’t needed anyway.” you pulled your keys from your coat pocket, “well it was not fun walking with you. off you go, fray.” shielding yourself by throwing the door in his face.

you wanted to be away from any type of male for the rest of the day, not wanting to hear their unnecessary chatter, they just like the sound of their own voice. neatly arranging your files on your desk and placing your coat over the back of your chair you were ready to finish some documents when there was a gentle knocking to your door. you weren’t expecting anyone for a meeting so when you were faced with the lanky agent from earlier you couldn’t help as your face shifted into one of annoyance before shifting into neutral.

“was there something you needed, dr. reid?” arms crossed defensively over your chest. you internally hated how he seemed to know almost everything know to man and he seemed to be about your age. you wanted to rip your hair out halfway through your bachelors degree.

dr. reid’s mouth was pressed into a tight line, his fingers twiddling with this satchel strap over his chest. “i- uh i overheard a bit of your- your conversation and just wanted to… apologize?” he ended with a question.

your brows quirked, “apologize? for what?” confused on what was happening. men rarely apologized to you, you’ve been ran down on the street by guys who don’t care about anyone else on the street.

“i didn’t mean to overstep earlier. i understand to an extent what it feels like for people to talk over you or just ignore what you’ve said.” your anger melted just a bit at his words, “and i know for you it’s harder. there’s statistically less then 0.05% of non white males in many fields. i can tell you worked hard to be in this position, so i apologize for earlier.” his mouth probably ran just a tad faster than his brain.

you dropped your defensive stance, hands to link at the bottom of your stomach as you gave dr. reid a friendly smile, the first of the day. “thank you, dr. reid. i appreciate that you recognized your actions and acknowledged my feelings.”

he rocked on his feet, “you can call me spencer.” he said shyly, “also i’ve read a couple of your thesis. and if you have the time when this is over i’d- i’d love to discuss them with you.” you noted how his cheeks started to tint into hues of pink, it was cute.

“would be nice to talk with someone that has a fully functioning brain. you know where to find me, spencer.”

[multifandomsish]

A/N: an au where Buckys a mechanic, requested by anon 🫶🏻

pls don’t hate me for how short this is but i wanted to get it out 😭

i wanted to leave this one kind of open and not a lot of detail! i feel like with how i decided to end this one, there’s definitely options for it to keep going if this is popular enough 👀

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please send me a request for any Marvel character! or vikings characters too! i’m open to just about any request!

TW: flirting, shyness, embarrassment, kissing.

-

A warm summer day seemed like the perfect time to go for a drive, but that was proving to be a bad idea as your car rumbled angrily rolling into the parking lot of a small town mechanics shop an hour and a half from where you live. “This has to be just my luck..” you grumble to yourself as you step one foot at a time out of your car, pushing the door closed and walking around, heading towards the shop.

You definitely stood out here with your tight fitting gym leggings and sports bra top, your typical gym attire that felt normal to wear in a gym of strangers working out just like you. But now that you were the only person dressed like this, you felt a small bit of insecurity boiling in your stomach at the thought of eyes on you. If you hadn’t needed help with your car to get back home, you wouldn’t have even made the stop but you felt you had no choice but to have it quickly checked out.

All of the car bay doors are open but not a soul is in sight, the assumption passing through your mind that everyone may be in the office of the shop hidden behind darkly tinted windows. A bell jingles just above your head as you push the slightly heavy metal and glass door open, the smell of oil and something hitting your nose. It takes a quick sweep of your eyes to see there’s three men behind the long desk in the center of the room, another man standing in the doorway leading to the garage where they work. It seems as though your presence makes the atmosphere go quiet.

The man standing in the doorway to the garage catches your eye, almost makes your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. He has beautifully messy brown hair and striking blue eyes, gorgeously muscled arms that are crossed over his tight broad chest. You’ve never seen anyone like him and you really wish you could get a better look at the name patch on his black button down work shirt that’s completely opened, exposing a white tank underneath. The only letters on the patch you can see are a B and Y, your brain wracking for names.

As your brain is trying to piece together a name, you offer a quick and soft friendly smile to the men, clearing your throat gently. “Hi uh- I was.. I was having some issues with my car while on a drive and this was the closest shop I could get to. I was afraid it may breakdown, is there anyone that might be able to take a look at it?” You get out, shyness taking over your senses as your cheeks begin to feel warm, knowing they’re slowly beginning to glow red.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the man in the doorway shift his weight on his feet as you maintain eye contact with the man right behind the desk. “Why of course ma’am, Buck, you mind going with her and seeing if we can’t help her out?” The man politely asks, clean blonde hair slicked back and just as piercing blue eyes as, who you assume is Buck, has. He’s the one to make a move, pushing himself off the doorway he’s leaned against and taking a step forward, unfolding his arms.

“Of course, not a problem.” Buck offers you a friendly smile as your eyes meet his and it feels as though your stomach does a thousand flips in just seconds. You already know with as awkward as you are, this may not end very well.

You follow behind Buck, just a few steps away, back out of the shop door and towards your car in the small parking lot. “So, what’s going on with it?” He speaks up, the sound of his deep warm voice making your bones tingle.

“I uh.. I was driving down the highway when it started to shake and it kind of smelt like something was burning. Then the check engine light came on the further I drove so I decided it was best to try and find a shop somewhere as close as I could.” You explain, unlocking your car and handing Bucky the keys. You watch as he gets in the driver seat, flipping the key in the ignition just enough to turn the dash on.

After the check engine light comes on, he gets out and motions for you to wait just a second before heading towards one of the open bay doors. He grabs a little handheld machine from what you presume is his area of work before heading back towards you to plug in this machine to your car in hopes it’ll tell him exactly what the check engine light is for.

As he’s waiting for the machine to load you have a second to watch his features and look him over, admiring the way the sun glistens off his skin and makes his hair shine too. You can see the peak of pale white skin under the sleeve of his work t shirt he’s wearing, a line where his tan starts and ends, making a smile form on your lips.

He glances up just seconds before the machine loads, to catch your eyes on him before you quickly look away in embarrassment, wondering if you’d just been caught being a creep. Though in Bucky’s mind, he’s dying to get a good look at you just as you have him.

“Hmm, this isn’t good..” Bucky says once he’s looked down at the handheld, reading what it’s telling him. “You’re having transmission problems.” He explains, glancing back up at you for a second. Your eyes widen then lower as you listen to him, nodding your head.

“That’s expensive isn’t it?” You ask with a soft laugh, pushing your stray hairs out of your face as you glance your car over. “Is it possible for me to make it home? I’m about an hour and a half away.” You ask, chewing on your bottom lip afraid of the answer.

Bucky makes a soft noise with your second question, eyes meeting yours and he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “You might be lucky to make it another thirty to forty five minutes, but not the whole way home.” He says, unplugging the machine and standing up, eyes drifting down your body as you’re not paying attention to him.

“Let me go talk to my boss, Steve, and see if we can’t work something out to where we can fix your car and get you home for the night, okay?” Bucky offers, sensing a feeling of stress coming from you though it seems to ease with his offer.

“Oh you don’t have to do that! I wouldn’t expect for you to have to worry about getting me home, that’s sweet though, thank you.” You tell Bucky, a giddy smile on your lips at the thought of him going as far as to getting you home safe.

Bucky chuckles and he shakes his head, rough hand running through his hair as the two of you make your way back towards the shop. “Steve might actually write me up if I just let you be to figure it out yourself.” He grins, looking to you. “And anyways, helping a pretty girl like yourself is no weight on my shoulders.” He offers a playful wink that makes your cheeks heat again.

With the nerves that Buckys wink has sent through your body, you stumble over your own two feet stepping back into the shop, nearly face planting onto the stained tile flooring but a strong hand catches you from behind, pulling you into his broad body to bring you back into a standing position. Even more nerves run through you, but the good kind of nerves. The kind that make you yearn for the feeling again and again.

“Watch your step darlin, don’t need you takin a trip to the hospital too.” His breath fans across your ear but you steady your feet to take a step away from him to maybe calm the pounding of your heart in your chest, trying to feign a prideful smile.

“I’m okay, I got it.” You laugh, Bucky hesitating a second before he steps around you and towards the desk where Steve is watching the two of you intently, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Bucky leans half across the desk so there’s little space between him and Steve, keeping his voice fairly low. “Listen, her cars having transmission issues. It’s gonna need a decent fix and she’s an hour and a half from home, let me give her a ride and I’ll work on the car for the night.” Bucky whispers, watching the way Steve’s expression grows even more knowing.

Steve slightly glances around Bucky at you, standing there glancing around the shop waiting room like a lost duck. He gives a soft little laugh and he nods his head at Bucky. “Go ahead, just, hurry back. You do have work to do. No dilly dallying.” Steve says, raising his brows at Bucky and Bucky grins wide at his friend and boss. “You’re the fucking best, man.” He nods, patting Steve’s shoulder and turning around back to you with a smile.

“You okay with me giving you a lift? Of course as small as this town is, a taxi won’t come all the way out and take you back.” Bucky says and you shrug your shoulders. “Id really appreciate a ride back.” You nod, smiling at him and he pulls keys from his pocket.

“You can grab whatever you need from your car, we should be done with it in a day or two depending on everything wrong.” Bucky states and you head back to your car as he heads around the building to pull his old model Chevy around to the front. With your purse and gym bag from the trunk, you climb in the passenger seat of Buckys truck, him patiently waiting for you to settle and get buckled before pulling onto the highway and back towards your town.

-

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Jacket | Seth Jarvis

wc. 1.6k

Jarvy sees you in the wags playoff jacket for the first time

(not my best writing tbh. im sorry!)

Growing up, you never had an affinity for fashion. 

Your mom was the one who always dressed you and middle school was always that awkward fashion era of everyone’s lives. In high school the different outfits everyone wore had started to pique your interest, wanting to finally find your own style and make yourself feel more confident overall. 

By college you had hit your stride and everyone in your life was incredibly confused when you decided to major in fashion business. Your dad was over the moon that you added the business side of it, being a finance director himself, and while your mom was still confused, she enjoyed the new fashion advice from her daughter. 

You grew up in North Carolina, heading to FIT in New York for your undergrad before returning home. You spent that summer trying your best to figure out what to do with this new degree, when your life intertwined with Seth Jarvis. Through a mess of awkward run ins, late nights, and a final first date that sealed the deal, you were quick to realize that Seth was it for you. Three years later and you and Seth were closer than ever. He was on his way to another playoff run while you had been living your dream job for a couple of years now. 

As April loomed near and the season was coming to an end, the wag groupchat had started to pick up. The girls were discussing playoff chances and who should be planning the wag jackets this year and you were voted the number one choice. You tried to get out of it, worried that what you made wouldn’t be good enough but the girls shut you down quickly, knowing whatever you make would be iconic. 

You found yourself dreaming up ideas in the middle of meetings, doodling in the corners of your notebooks, looking up colors and fabrics, and finally caving to create a full fledged design when Seth had come bounding home with the news of a playoff clinch. 

The drawing you come up with is a high school varsity style jacket in black, the front saying Carolina in uppercase bold red letters, with the words cause above one pocket and chaos on the other side. One sleeve has the previous cup win dates while the other sleeve has the boy’s number and the original canes logo underneath it. Lastly, the bottom hem of the jacket is decorated with the storm warning flags similar to the boys jerseys and classic name and number on the back in the same color and font as the Carolina. 

Ever since finalizing the design, you instantly headed to the store and grabbed a blank black varsity jacket and started your work. You had fallen so deep into the job, focusing on each tiny detail for your prototype that you didn’t even hear Seth coming home. You had just finished on the front when you heard the door of your office creak open and you turn to see Seth with a tired smile on his lips. 

“Hey there pretty girl,” he says, sauntering his way into the room and your heart skips at the sight of him. You’re distracted for a moment just at the sight of him, but when you notice his eyes flicker over to your current project you flinch and get up. 

“No!” you screech, taking quick steps towards your boyfriend and covering his eyes with your hand. Seth freezes against you, concerned in his movements but when he hears a breathy laugh escape from your lips he knows everything is okay. 

“Uh why can’t I look?” 

“It’s bad luck!” you squeal, nudging your boyfriend out of your office and Seth rolls his eyes, his lashes fluttering lightly against your hand. 

“I’m sorry did I propose and forget or something?” he asks when you finally drop your hand from his eyes and shut your office door behind you. 

“No but if you are going to propose I’d wait till off season,” you respond cheekily and Seth grins. 

“I was making the wag jackets,” you tell him, slinging your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. 

“Mmm were you?” 

Seth leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, trailing one up to your cheek and then finally on your lips, his hips pushing you back against the door so you’re caged in his embrace. 

“Mhm,” you murmur against his lips and you feel his grin, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin. “And you need to go so I can finish them.” 

“Or we could do this,” he says and before you know it, Seth has grabbed you around the waist, throwing you over his shoulder and marching his way towards your shared bedroom, your protests of work and prototypes deaf to his ears. 

The week leading up to the first playoff game was complete chaos. You hadn’t seen Seth at all, occasionally when he was slipping out of bed and you were just slipping in, bumping into each other when he was out the door and you were coming in and so on. 

You were finalizing all of the wag jackets, making sure the matching shoes had arrived and were in good condition as well. You had decided to add a pair of nikes with the players last name on the side to match the jackets and you couldn’t wait to see how each girl would style their outfit. One by one as each girl received their jacket you would be on the other end of a million texts and several facetime calls of the girls freaking out about the job you did. You couldn’t help it, you started to feel good about your work too after being praised so much. 

Unfortunately due to both your schedules, you couldn’t see Seth before the playoff game but promised to make it in time for warmups. You and a few of the girls head out together, taking pictures both at your place and when you get to the arena. You head straight for the front, your nerves getting the best of you and you’re bouncing up and down on your heels waiting for Seth to come out on the ice. 

Somehow even with the nerves you miss his initial entrance onto the ice. Normally Seth is all serious mode when he starts warmups, only deciding to relax and goof off towards the end of them but when he sees you first, he’s a complete goner. 

You’re facing away from the glass but Seth could spot you from miles away in a crowded area, it truly didn’t matter. Your hair was pulled up and out of the way so everyone could see his last name and jersey number plastered on the back of the black varsity jacket. Your smile is wide and he knows you’ve been nervously fidgeting by the way you twist and bounce as you stand. 

His heart is pounding twice as hard now, not even registering the world around him as he sees you in your heavenly state with his name on your back. His. His jacket. The one that claims you’re his. God, how did he get so lucky? 

He doesn’t know when he stopped paying attention to the movements he was making on his skates until he’s smacking embarrassingly into the glass just before you, startling both you and everyone around. You look up, Seth with an unreadable expression on the other side of the glass and you can’t help the shy smile that creeps onto your lips. 

Seth tries to regain some kind of confidence again, shooting a wink in your direction and mischievous grin before taking off on the ice again. 

You swear your face hurts from smiling and your throat is no doubt sore from the screaming you had done all of game 1. You and the girls make your way down to the tunnel and talk about the events of the game while you wait for the boys. One by one each girl disappears in the arms of her man, you smiling and bidding goodbyes while you impatiently wait for Seth. 

“Is that the future Mrs. Jarvis?” you hear from behind you and you turn to see Jarvy smiling like he just won the damn lottery. 

You rush forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You exclaim your praise between each kiss and Seth grins shyly against you. 

“You did amazing,” you say leaning back to finally look into your boyfriend's big brown eyes and they shine with pride at your words. 

“Thank you baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and staring at you, his eyes roaming your figure, his fingers tracing the outline of his number on your shoulder and his name on your back. 

“What’s up lover boy?” you ask, nervous under his gaze. 

“You look damn good with my last name,” he murmurs and your face flushes further. 

What Seth doesn’t tell you is that from the first day, he’s known you were the one from him. He doesn’t say that since you had your first date he knew you’d be married one day. He doesn’t say how he wants to spoil his proposal right now and just ask you to marry him because he can’t go another second without having you share his name. 

He doesn’t tell you that one piece of clothing has made him imagine the next 50 years of his life in the matter of seconds. 

But you don’t need to know that. Not yet at least. So Seth settles for another searing kiss to your lips before slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you home so he can take that jacket off of you and love you properly.

[baldval]

ART DECO PART 2!₊˚⊹♡

characters: valentino x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: cursing, canon!valentino (he doesn't mind vox's bad actions towards other people), insanely angsty.

series masterlist!

You're half awake and disorientated. Valentino got up to find out who was at the door 10 minutes ago, and frankly, you're getting worried.

Against your better judgement, you throw on his shirt from the night before and make your way out of the bedroom.

You enter the living room to be met face to face with Vox.

Shit.

You briefly wonder if you can play it off, fabricate a story, tell him it's not what it looks like!

Apart from, it's exactly what it looks like.

Someone from Vox's assistance team saw you and Val enter his room together after the meeting. And now you're here, in his living room, wearing nothing but his shirt. And your shoes are by the front door. And there's a wine glass abandoned on the counter.

There's no getting out of this one.

Valentino wants to scream, yell at you to go back to his room. He wants to pick you up and throw you out of sight, praying Vox hasn't noticed all the tell tale signs. But it's too late. He has.

"Okay. Uh - what the fuck is going on?"

Vox asks the question while looking between the two of you like some sort of cartoon character doing a double take. It doesn't require a genius to figure it out, but he needs to hear one of you say it out loud.

"Listen, Vox-"

"Vox, don't get mad-"

You both speak at the same time, verbally tripping over each other. You've never actually discussed what you'd do or say if you got found out. You both just always naively assumed it wouldn't happen.

You sit down on the edge of the couch, and look at your boss earnestly.

You had earned his respect with all the years you'd been working for him, creating and animating shows for the Vees.

However, you knew it could all disappear.

It would be a lie to say you didn't see it coming, what was true is that you weren't ready for it.

"Vox, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. It isn't fair. But you can't get mad when I tell you the truth."

"I'll be the judge of that," he mutters sassily.

"Will you come and sit with me, please? The standing is making me nervous. I feel like I'm on trial."

"You might be. I haven't decided yet."

You can't tell if he's joking. He's certainly not smiling.

Vox moves to sit down next you. Val follows, perching himself on the opposite end to give you space. Close enough if you need him, far enough that it won't upset your boss more.

"Start talking," he commands, still confused.

"It's... well I - we - me and Valentino, we're -"

"Together," Val finishes for you. Vox glares at him, and he decides he'll keep his mouth shut for a while.

"Yeah, we're together," you continue. "We have been for over a year. It isn't just sex, or anything. I'm like- in love with him."

It's weird to finally bear this truth after keeping it a secret for so long. It feels wrong, but also refreshing - like a bitter lemon on a hot day.

Vox is scarily silent.

"You're... kidding, right?" he asks, finally breaking through the quiet.

Your silence is enough answer for you as he looks at you incredulously.

"You're so fuckin' naive." He turns over to Valentino. "How can you sit here and act like this doesn't change anything?"

Val tries to speak, but he continues.

"You lied to me, first off. Both of you. For God knows how long-"

"Vox-"

"Let me fucking finish."

You shrink back into the couch, hoping it would swallow you.

"You both lied to me. You broke my trust... and uh, that fucking hurts, actually. And then there's the business side of things. They work for me, they work for the Vees. And, I don't know if you remember, but you are a Vee. That's a conflict of interest."

Val scoffs at him, but then realises he's deadly serious.

"... A conflict of interest?"

"It's against company policy. How am I going to trust you? How is anyone? Information might get leaked. What if I tell you something, and then you tell them?" He points over to you. "And then they tell whoever friends they have, and they post about it on social media, and all of a sudden nothing is private anymore. I. Can't. Trust. You."

Tears are welling up in your eyes quicker than you can control. You're trying to take deep breaths, begging yourself not to cry in front of Vox.

"You do get this is my life right? I get to choose whoever I date," Val whispers.

"Yeah? Well, it's my life. And they're MY worker. And I get to choose whatever I'll do to them."

A choked sob escapes you, and the floodgates open. Fresh, hot tears sprint down your cheeks, landing in your lap.

Vox doesn't care about your suffering, he just wants to punish Valentino through you.

Val can't stand to sit and watch any longer.

"Okay, Vox, that's enough. This isn't fair."

"What's not fair is that two of people I trust the most both lying to my face for a year. That's what isn't fucking fair."

With that, Vox stands up and strides towards the front door, slamming it behind him as he leaves. The minute he's gone, Valentino is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"It's okay, darling," he murmurs, stroking your hair. "He'll come around. We'll be okay. If we stick together, we'll be okay."

His reassurances are only making you cry harder, sobs escaping you uncontrollably. You eventually exhaust yourself, falling into a restless sleep in Val's arms on the couch.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wake up in bed. You've temporarily forgotten the events of the morning, before it all comes crashing back down around you suddenly. Distantly, you can hear Valentino in the kitchen, talking on the phone. You look around the room, and know what you have to do.

You leave the bedroom with a bag in hand, throwing it onto the ground as you grab your shoes. Val clocks you, and hangs up the phone.

"Can I call you back? Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

He runs over to where you're slipping your heels on, precariously balanced against the side of the couch.

"Honey, where are you going?" he questions, panic washing over him at your frantic state. "Wait, have you packed a bag?"

He's trying to catch your eyes, but you keep looking away, desperate to avoid his unrelenting gaze.

"I'm going home."

A pause.

"... This is your home."

You knew he'd say that. It hurts just the same.

"No, Valentino, this is your home. My apartment is across town."

"You haven't been there in months. All your stuff is here. Baby, talk to me. What's going on? Did Vox get in your head?"

"He has a point!" you shout, trying to pick up your bag. Val gets there first and grabs it, flinging it behind him, out of your reach.

"About what? He's just in shock, baby! He's confused and he feels betrayed. You don't owe him fuckin' anything. Not after everything that he has put you through."

"But I love my job, Val. I can't lose everything I've worked so hard to achieve!"

"You love that piece of shit job? Yesterday you literally had to get up at 6 am just to get here and get yelled at for an hour and a half. Look- I love Vox but he's not a good boss. Hell! I don't even care about that, I just can't stand to see him abuse you and treat you like you're close to nothing. You're better off without him and you know it. You're just too attatched to what you have."

Subconsciously, you know he's right. You're trying to convince yourself he isn't.

"You don't get it though."

"Except I do. Do you think I don't know about Vox's methods? I understand that it's what he needs to do to get the job done, but... I just can't stand him treating you like that."

"You heard what he said! He won't trust you anymore. No one will. Besides, I know it's shitty, but my job is important to me. I can't be forgotten. Known only as an old failed artist."

"Trust me, honey, you're the least likely to be named a failure."

"That's not the point! You're not listening to me. I come from the bottom, I've had to fight for respect every fucking day of my life. I'm finally where I deserve to be. I can't throw it all away for... for love!"

Valentino flinches like you've punched him in the gut. He takes a step back and leans against the kitchen island, trying to keep his balance.

"What happened to 'you and me against the world', huh?" he murmurs.

"I think I got too wrapped up in this - in us. I was stupid to think it could work. We both were."

"I wasn't," he replies defiantly. "I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew it would be really fucking difficult and I loved you anyway."

"I'm not sorry for loving you," you whisper. "I'm sorry for a lot of things, but never for loving you."

"If you meant that, you wouldn't be giving up."

You turn your head around, unable to look at him any longer.

"This isn't giving up. This is... quitting while we're ahead. If we keep going, we'll just end up having a huge, horrible, public breakup," you stop, and take a deep breath. "I think we were always doomed to fail."

Valentino thinks about the diamond ring that sits in a box in the top drawer of his nightstand. Doomed to fail.

You finally look up at him, and all the air leaves your lungs. You've never seen him look so defeated, so vulnerable. You're the cause of this. And you hate yourself for it.

You pad across the kitchen and pick up your bag from where he threw it, before stopping in front of him.

"I don't regret you, Valentino. I never will."

With that, you stride out of the front door, closing it gently behind you. Val is left, cold and empty, in a room that no longer feels like home.

[specialagentlokitty]

Bobby Nash x reader - our own family

Heyyy, if you ever find the time could you please make a hurt/comfort bobby nash x platonic!reader who is a fighter based off of the prompt “ I’m not your dad” “I know…do you know that”. I’d love some more bobby as a parental figure material please and thank you. 😊 - @purplecrayola 💜

You had woken up in the hospital, you didn’t have much recollection on how you ended up there or why.

Everything was still really hazy, and but the pain you could feel radiating from your abdomen was definitely real, you could feel it.

It wasn’t bad, maybe the IV in your arm had something to do with that, you had no clue.

You laid there taking small breaths, just staring up at the ceiling, and you heard the door open.

“Hello…?” You asked softly.

You didn’t want to risk sitting up, so you waited for the nurse to come over, and she smiled warmly at you.

“Well hey you, you’re awake again.”

You furrowed your brows a little bit in confusion.

“A..again…?”

“Yes, you woke up a week ago, not for long, only a few minutes. Can you sit up for me?”

You nodded, and the nurse helped you in slowly sitting up.

She checked your vitals, took some blood and checked your injury sight.

“Do you.. do you know what happened to me?”

“You came in about two weeks ago, you had major trauma to your abdomen. Do you not remember?”

You thought for a moment, forcing the memories to come to light.

You remembered the flames, you had been called out to a huge fire at a construction site, where a couple of people were said to still be inside the building.

You had gone in to try and find them, you were with Eddie and Hen.

You heard a loud creaking noise, and you barely had time to react when scaffolding fell, and then you remembered the pain.

People screaming your name.

Rain hitting your face.

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

Was it rain?

You felt a tap on your shoulder, and you snapped out of your head to look at the nurse.

“Are you alright? Are you in pain?”

“No I uh.. I remember what happened…”

She nodded her head.

“We need to keep you in for another few days, but after that you can go home, would you have anybody you can stay with?”

“I uh.. my chief, Bobby Nash. Has he been here?”

“Oh yes, comes by every day after work.”

“Can you ask him if he can take me? I live closer to him so it’ll be easier.”

She smiled, nodding her head and you went back to think.

While you were thinking, you went back to the last thing you remembered.

You were sure it wasn’t rain, it wasn’t supposed to rain that night, maybe it was water from the trucks? But that didn’t make sense.

Why would they keep you so close to the trucks if you had been hurt?

You shook your head, taking a sip of the water that was put next to you.

You shuffled back down, deciding to get some more sleep.

You spent a lot of the time sleeping, up until the point where Bobby came to take you home, and you still sat in your own head.

He helped you to your apartment, slowly sitting you down on the couch.

“I’ve been given a strict list of what medications you’re supposed to take and when, how to look after your wound and signs of infection.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“Right now you need some food that isn’t hospital food.” He smiled.

This made you laughed a little bit.

“Can we order Chinese?”

“Oh no, you’ve got to stay away from takeout right now. So, we’re going to do some simple chicken and rice and see how that goes.”

You grumbled a little bit but said nothing.

Bobby walked to your kitchen.

“I did some shopping before coming to get you.”

“I have food.”

“You have meals you throw in the microwave, we’ve been through this (Y/N) that’s not healthy.” He scoffed.

“But cooking is effort.”

“You live five minutes away from me, you could just come over you know.”

You shrugged a little bit, shuffling down so you could lay down and you placed a hand over your stomach.

You closed your eyes, the pain medicine taking hold, letting you fall asleep again.

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep for, but somebody was gently shaking your shoulder.

“Hey kiddo, hey.., come on..” Bobby whispered.

You opened your eyes, and you stared at him.

“It was you…”

“What was?”

Bobby helped you sit up, placing your dinner in your lap.

“I.. I thought it was raining, but it was you, crying. I.. I said something but I can’t remember what. I’m trying to remember the accident.”

“Don’t rush yourself (Y/N), you went through a lot. Just let it come back naturally.”

Bobby sat down with his own dinner, and you looked at him.

“What did I say bobby?”

He sighed.

“You called me your dad.”

You glanced back down at your plate, that part of the accident rushing back to you.

You were begging and pleading about how you didn’t want to die, about how much it hurt, begging Bobby not to leave you.

You kept calling him dad.

Bobby cleared his throat, and you looked up at him.

“I’m not your dad”

You nodded your head a little.

“I know…do you know that?”

He looked at you confused.

“You’ve been sleeping in my hospital room, the nurse told me. That’s not something a chief does for his fighters.”

“You don’t like being alone. That’s why you’ve got a cat, who by the way will be returned in the morning by Chim.”

“That doesn’t change what I said…”

“We’re not talking about this.”

You nodded your head, setting your plate down, not having touched a single thing on it.

“I’m really tired…”

You pushed yourself up with a great deal of pain, hand over your stomach.

You slowly padded away, making your way to your room and you laid down on your back, placing an arm over your eyes.

You didn’t mean to get annoyed at him, but on the medication and the pain you weren’t thinking right now.

Bobby stayed in your living room, truth be told you were like a kid to him, but right now that was a conversation for later.

His main thought was making sure you got better

[grapejuicebrat]

brutal part 3

PAIRING: neighbour!harry x reader

SYNOPSIS: even though you don’t love me, just tell me you love me.

WARNINGS: mentions of kissing, another guy and another girl, sexual tension in the end but it’s not really a warning.

WORD COUNT: 1220

NOTES: this took me so long and i’m so sorry!

[wicked games, the weeknd]

brutal masterlist

“what’s up, harry”

“yeah, something happened?”

“no, nothing. just wanted to check on you. everything is okay? i’m worried about you”

“why would i not be okay? im just so busy, you know?”

“yeah, i understand, baby. do you think you’ll be able to have a dinner with me? i miss you so much.”

“yeah, why not? in our favourite restaurant tomorrow?”

“yes! that would be great”

“i’ll pick you up at 8. that would work for you”

“of course! can’t wait for tomorrow. love you, baby”

“yeah, good night, hon”.

i mean he couldn’t be so perfect. of course something was wrong with harry and guess what. yeah, harry does have a girlfriend. and no she isn’t some kind of a bitch or a mean girl. sarah is such a sweet pie with doe eyes and a big heart. but for harry this relationship were dead from the very beginning.

they met in college, through mutual friends and it was like love from the first sight. for sarah at least. harry at that time wasn’t even interested in a relationship. especially in a long distance relationship. but for some reason he couldn’t just say no to sarah after a one night stand because she was deeply in love with him. sadly she still is. even tho he treats her like shit.

you know what i mean? he couldn’t think about her anymore after he met you. you weren’t a bad girl. in fact, you are such a copy of sarah. you have those big eyes and you are so naive. so delicate and so sweet. and you were sexy. like the sexiest thing about you is that you don’t even try to be sexy. you wouldn’t let some random guy to touch you in different places and that’s what harry liked about you the most.

well, actually, sarah isn’t his girlfriend. like harry didn’t tell her yet but personally he thinks that he is single by now. and by the way, sarah could found some new guy to fuck. of course, she could. it’s not like harry would be against this. i mean, they live in different states and she has every right to build her life without harry. harry definitely wouldn’t survive without sex for this long. and this makes him a shitty person, he understands this but whatever. it’s not like you would ever find out about this. at least harry doesn’t plan to tell you about sarah.

harry didn’t plan to tell you about sarah but now, he doesn’t have to. you already know this. you didn’t mean to go to this fucking restaurant at all. you were just craving some pasta so you went to nearest restaurant and boom! there he was. harry with some friend, or with some girl friend. or that’s what you wanted to think. you stayed near this restaurant for more than twenty minutes just to make sure that this cute, pretty girl isn’t his actual girlfriend. but i guess friends don’t kiss like that. and harry wouldn’t grab her ass like that if she was just a friend.

something broke inside you. you heard a crack and everything went dark just in one second. well, of course you aren’t his girlfriend and you aren’t his mother to tell him what to do. but he could at least tell you that he has a girlfriend and you wouldn’t let him flirt with you. you wouldn’t let him invite you to come over. you wouldn’t think that you two could be something more than just friends. you thought that this type of guy is only in teen movies. a playboy and a quite girl. but in this movies, in the end, they were together and in love and shit.

“hey, you alright?” you turn your head and see a blonde guy, looking really worried.

“yeah, uh n-no” you didn’t really feel a tear. and you didn’t feel another tear streaming down your face. you wished you could just teleport to your apartment and just lay on your bed and cry in peace. but instead you chose to watch this love birds kissing each other with such a passion.

some part of you wished that it was you standing next to harry.

“i’m patrick” a guy suddenly said, shyly smiling.

“i’m y/n. sorry, my face is a mess” you laughed, nodding your head.

“no, it’s not. you’re pretty even with tears, trust me” he looked at you and laughed “sounded a little bit creepy, didn’t it?”

“i like weird things patrick, so it’s okay” you smiled turning fully to patrick and slowly forgetting about harry and this girl standing beside you.

“i heard that some piece of chocolate would make your day better. do you want to check this theory?”

“yeah, i do. but just for you to know, you’ve already made my evening much better”

and it was totally true. patrick did really changed your evening. and the next three months tho.

“will you please stop for a second? give me just five minutes and i’ll explain myself”

“no, i don’t want to hear anything, harry” you turned your head to him. “ maybe three months ago i wanted to hear that she doesn’t mean anything but now i understand that you don’t even need to explain yourself. i’m just your neighbour who’ve smoked with you and told you about my childhood. that’s all. we’ve never even been friends.” you smile and nodding once again, started to go upstairs faster, trying to get away from him but harry’s next words stop you.

“yeah, you’re right, we weren’t friends. but we both know that we aren’t just some neighbours. i’ve always found you attractive, and i bet you thought about fucking me. there is nothing stopping us by now, we can start again. forget about everything and try again” harry’s face was so close to you. you can feel his breath on your face, his green eyes are looking you with some kind of hope and some part of you wanted to tell him that he is right and you need to try again but another part of you was smarter and much colder. if man cheat once, he would cheat again. and harry, well he is harry. he won’t change himself just for you.

“we can’t. i have a boyfriend and i love him” you made a step away from harry, looking right into his eyes.

“do you love him?” he asked you quietly.

“what?”

“you heard me”. harry’s voice is much stronger now. he makes a step to you and you stay right were you are, thinking about his question. “do. you. love. him?” making a pause after every word, harry tried to look into your eyes one more time, trying to get an answer.

“we’ve only been dating for a month. i can’t say that i love him but that doesn’t mean that i…”

“that’s what i thought” harry makes a step back, smiling proudly.

“what are you talking about” you ask him, watching him giggle.

“you don’t love him.”

“that’s not true” you shake your head, biting your lip.

“okay. look into my eyes and tell me that you love him. if you do, then i’ll never ever disturb you again”.

share your thoughts for this one!

if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask.

TAGS: @daphnesutton @hcqwxrtss123

[sumaneun-stars]

I've never asked anyone on Tumblr for anything before... but I just love the posts on this account.

So would it be possible to do something related to Jay and the reader having a fight? (something angst), but with a good ending so that reading leaves us with a warm heart

'38 Missed Calls' — pjs.

a/n: awhh tyy! ofc it's possible!! omg first request let's gaur!!!

Throughout the entire drive back home, Jay thought of nothing but cuddling with you. All he wanted to do was wrap himself with you and go to sleep, with your voice as a lullaby after a tiring day. But life had a different plan.

“Y/n, I'm home” he said to no one.

Silence almost deafened his ears.

He walked into every room, only met with non living objects. He sighed. Today was not his day. He brought out his phone to dial you.

‘Sorry, this user is currently unavailable’

“What the-” he dialled Heeseung instead.

‘No I haven't seen her, sorry dude’

Sunghoon was his only hope.

‘Uhh- didn't she tell you? She said something about partnering with Chaeryeong to go to club Red Tulip’

He had only ever heard about Club Red Tulip, and he couldn't believe Sunghoon's words.

Without a second thought, he went straight through Chaeryeongs profile, knowing you didn't frequently update your page.

9.54 p.m.

The recent post was a selfie with a man by Chaeryeong’s side, but that wasn't all he saw. You, drunk in a red cocktail dress, dancing in between a crowd of random strangers.

Why didn't you tell him? Why were you here, in this vibrant mess of a club? 

He leaned against a wall as soon as he entered, slightly startled at the intensity of this place. He redialled your phone for a good 45 minutes, his anger boiling with every repetitive line that that damned AI robot spoke. Jay stopped for a second to breathe in this congested place, his eyes scanning every person to find you. 

He was exhausted, leaning his head to the wall to look at the ceiling which reflected the blinding lights. He was taken aback by an unfamiliar touch on his body. A girl was standing in front of him, dressed in hot pink with a furry pink scarf decorating her neck.

“Uh- do I know you?” He asked, holding her wrist so it wouldn't wander around anymore (except her left hand took over)

“You don't need to. Most people come here when they wanna ditch their lovers, now let's have some fun!” she said in a high pitched, dazed voice. She wrapped her arms around him and started dancing, but Jay's mind was too far away to care. 

‘Ditch their lovers…?’

You pushed yourself through the crowd as you searched for Chaeryeong, until you found her still in the middle of a group of boys.

“Chae, I'm going home” you screamed but she barely heard.

You sighed as you made your way towards the entrance, switching on your phone which was shut down by Chaeryeong, who stated that you'd be always on the phone if you had it on. 

Before you could dial Jay, you stopped at your tracks at the blurry but sure sight. Jay, against a wall, with a girl basically grinding on him. He wasn't doing anything, not even pushing her away. You kept staring, the view getting heartbreakingly clearer with every step, until he met your eye.

“Y/n” he said, pushing the girl away from him.

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you made your way out of the red and white nightmare of a club.

“Y/n!” 

Too late. You were already in the taxi, wiping away the tears. What was wrong with him?

He entered the apartment, to find a torn apart you. You turned your head at his entrance, rage filling your eyes. You stared at him, waiting for an explanation. He walked closer to you, only for you to push him behind.

“Y/n, we can settle this if you explain”

“Me? Explain? So I'm the bad guy here?” You scoffed in anger. “So I was the one with someone grinding on me while I was already in a relationship?” You questioned him, each word louder than the next, tears blurring your vision.

“You were the one who brought me there y/n! You didn't even care to tell me” his fiery eyes turned into heartbreaking ones in the last words, adding fuel to the fire. “38 missed calls y/n. Thirty eight.” 

“Jay I-” fresh tears formed in your eyes.

“And guess what? Sunghoon was the one who told me. I guess you should go date him instead!” 

Unbelievable.

“I sent you a fucking message Jay!” His expression changed with your words. “It wasn't getting delivered, so I dialled Sunghoon instead!” You said with hot tears drenching your face.

You showed him the messages in your chat, before he took a step closer to you apologetically. Before he could hold you, you ran to the bathroom, locking the door before leaning on it.

“Y/n open up!” You heard banging, but you didn't care. Your explosion of tears overpowered his noises. How could he just assume something like that?

“Y/n…” he leaned on the other side of the door. “I'm sorry, I was in a meeting and they told us to mute our phones and I was panicking when you weren't home so I-” he stopped, realising he was rambling nonsense, making excuses.

“Y/n please forgive me, I promise I'll never do it again so why don't we just talk it out? Hm? Open the door, darling”

You opened the door after a solid five minutes, head down as you sat cross legged in front of the boy who leaned his head on the wall hopelessly. You crawled onto his lap, arms wrapped around his body and crying into the nape of his neck.

“H-hey- I-” Jay stuttered.

“Forget it” You raised your head, wiping your tears as you spoke firmly. “Never do that again”

“I promise!” He made a pledge, two fingers to his forehead before he wiped your cheeks with them.

“I can never stay mad at you” you pouted, but smiled immediately when you heard his chuckle.

“Y/n…” he said with his forehead connected to yours.

“What now?” you wiped his tears this time.

“I think I have a crush on you”

“Yeah, no shit” 

[lewkwoodnco]

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth. 

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment. 

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops. 

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love. 

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[dearharriet]

Mama’s Fallen Angel; Eddie Munson 🎲

“Eddie,” you whisper, “need you.”

Eddie groans into your throat. That you need him even once almost makes the whole year he lost with you worth it.

“Be patient, baby,” he cooes, but he’s halfway there himself. “Gonna give it to ya.”

summary: eddie is torn when you, his troubled ex-best-friend, show up on his doorstep after a year of being gone. (18+)

word count: 2.3K

warnings: explicit sexual content—MDNI, fem!r, fingering, thigh-fucking, unprotected piv (be safe), postcoital dysphoria (?), unhealthy/messy relationship, mentions of abuse (not from eddie), angst

a/n: I’ve literally no qualifications to be writing abt sex pls tell me if it’s awful 😟 based on the song fallen angel by poison !!

It’s ten o'clock and thunderous in Indianapolis. Pounding rain drowns all other noise, but the rumble of your fists on Eddie’s front door cuts through it all like lightning.

The door swings open, and Eddie frowns. You’re drenched, panting, and carrying a go-bag half your weight. Before he can ask questions, you let yourself in, bypassing him completely.

“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” you say, but you leave little room for opposition. You’re taking your coat off, shaking like a bathed dog. “Should I take my shoes off?”

You’re talking like Eddie invited you over, like he’s seen you at all in the past twelve months. He can’t believe his own traitorous mouth as it plays along.

“Uh, yeah. Please.”

Technically, he walks all over his apartment in shoes—his work boots, even—but the sight of your ratty sneakers is enough to compel him. You sling them to the side and trail into Eddie’s living space. Eddie nervously follows.

“What’re you doin’ here?”

No answer. You pick up the knick-knacks and memorabilia on his coffee table, scrutinizing them.

“Um, hellooo?” Eddie snaps his fingers near your head until you turn your attention to him, blank-faced. Something about your silence is more unsettling than anything you could say. Eddie needs it to end.

“Why aren’t you in Chicago?” Eddie asks like you’re crazy. You stick your nose up haughtily, all defense.

“What, I can’t visit?”

“Is that what this is?” Eddie glances around, at your shoes, your bag on the floor. “Cause it doesn’t feel like it, babe.”

Shifting uncomfortably, you don’t reply. There are photos around Eddie’s place, above the couch and on the end tables by his sofa. You study them, glazing over pictures of Eddie and an athletic brunette—Steve Harrington, from school—then a band of kids, and then a pretty blonde girl you’d never seen.

“You have a girlfriend now?” Disdain paints the question, clear as day. It’s almost more of an insult than an inquiry. Eddie frowns.

“No.”

Tearing your eyes away from the photo—Eddie and the blonde, cheesing over a mound of moving boxes—you look at Eddie. He looks so different, yet so familiar. His hair is gathered and tied in a low bun, revealing his face for once. His features look fresh, fed and warm and happy. You can’t decide if you’re proud or inconsolably jealous. Still, he wears a tinge of worry that you often create.

Eddie was always looking after you. Through your tumultuous upbringing, he and Wayne took care of you, loved you the way you deserved. It wasn’t apparent until recently that your biggest saboteur was yourself.

“Liam got mean,” you say, and you know what Eddie will say back. His lack of surprise always hurt more than the actual abuse. His I told you so‘s.

“He left?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch. You shake your head.

“I did.” It’s sickly satisfying to watch his face blank, his mouth drop. “I was gonna go home, but…”

Eddie nods. He knows as well as you do that your parents would never take you back, and that their roof meant very little in terms of safety.

“Uncle Wayne would’ve taken ya,” He offers, but it’s a null point. You’re not in Wayne’s living room, you’re in Eddie’s.

“I don’t want Uncle Wayne,” you say anyway. You stare at the floor, your shoulders by your ears. “I want you.”

Something in Eddie’s chest burns, passion or fury or both. Years ago, he was elated to hear you say so, but now…

“We’re not doing this again.” Eddie’s voice is stern.

Looking up, your eyes flash with confusion.

“What?” You step closer, reaching out. “Eddie—“

Dodging your advance, Eddie throws his hands up.

“No! You don’t get to do this to me.” He licks his lips. “I got over you, and it fucking blew, but I’m finally happy here. If you bet on the wrong horse, I’m sorry, but you can’t come back and ruin me all over again.”

It doesn’t matter how measured he is, Eddie can’t stop the words from becoming scathing. You look absolutely torn and out of your depth, but an icy resolution creeps over you.

“Yeah, okay.” You step away and grab your bag harshly. “Got it.”

Eddie trails after you, back into the inlet.

“Where are you going?” Eddie feels idiotic, he’d told you to leave, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that what he was saying, that you’re not welcome? You look like you’re thinking the same thing, scowling as you tie your shoes.

“I dunno, a women’s shelter, maybe?” You shrug. “Or a hostel. There’s a few here.”

It all leaves a bad taste in Eddie’s mouth.

“Wayne would—“

“I told you, I don’t wanna see him,” you interrupt, rising from your crouched position. Eddie wants to shake you, to grab your face and make you listen.

“He can help you.”

“I don’t want his help!” Your shout pings off of Eddie’s walls. You curl in on yourself, half angry, half defeated. “I can’t stand the way he’d look at me, okay? I can barely stand the way you’re looking at me.”

“Yeah, well, tough shit! Big city wasn’t what you were expecting, huh, angel?” He shakes his head. Your face burns with the embarrassment of overambition and naïveté. “You should've listened to me.”

There it is. The smug fucking bastard. Your blood roils in your chest, pounding at your skin. You grab Eddie by the collar and shake him.

“You’re fucking mean,” you spit. You let him go, just to push at his chest with your palms. “You’re the fucking problem!”

Stumbling back, Eddie clenches his jaw and sneers.

“ Why? ‘Cause I care? ‘Cause I want you to be safe?”

Eddie can’t even be bothered to think about his neighbors, so riled up he can hear his pulse. He steps closer and you push him back again.

“You blamed me! You still blame me! You treat me like I’m stupid for going with him, but I was fucking scared, Eddie. I had nowhere else to go.” Your shoves are getting weaker, less imposing, and your eyes are glassy with tears. “It’s not my fucking fault that he was nice when we met, when people were around. It’s not.”

The fight flees Eddie’s eyes, too, because you’re right. He’d spent years trying to protect you, and he was just hurting you instead. He backs off, deflating.

Neither of you knows what to say, breathing hard and feeling awful. The rain is gone, making the silence all that much louder.

“You can take my bed tonight,” Eddie murmurs, afraid to pierce the silence.

You purse your lips, looking away. “No, you were right. I should go.”

“No, fuck that.” You flinch, and Eddie pales a little. “Forget what I said,” he amends, “I was being jealous and insufferable. It’s dark and it’s raining, and you should stay.”

Eddie looks painfully sincere, and desperate. It feels wrong, but you have nowhere else to go. You nod hesitantly, agreeing.

Your pack looks completely out of place in his room. Tattered and duct-taped and filled to the brim. It makes the space around it look impossibly cleaner. You don’t even open it, either, because Eddie lends you his own clothes. It sits forgotten at the foot of his bed.

Eddie sets you up nicely, tucking you into his sheets and slinking towards the door.

When you’re about to say goodnight, laying your still-damp hair on Eddie’s pillows, you feel suddenly as out of place and lost as the bag on the floor.

“Eddie.” His head turns your way, hand paused over the lightswitch. You’re gripping his comforter in your hands, radiating anxiety.

“Would you stay?” Eddie’s lips press together, and you’re sure he’ll say no. Still, you can’t help but add a pathetic, “please?”

Eddie knows he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But you’re in his clothes, in his bed, and you’re asking for him. He can’t say no to you.

Freeing his hair from its confines, he crawls in next to you. You’re uncertain, but Eddie slips into autopilot, grabbing for you like you were never gone.

Brown curls fall all over the place, soft on your shoulder and much longer than you remember them being.

“Are you ever gonna cut this,” you wonder, fiddling with a silky strand. Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and your bodies press together.

“I did cut it,” he says. “It grew out again.”

“Oh. Right.” It hadn’t felt like you were apart that long, but you suppose it had been over a year. It’s hard to collect all of that time in your mind, to accept it.

“I wish this wasn’t so fucked up,” you lament, eyes closed. “That I wasn’t.”

“You’re not,” Eddie rumbles. You feel it in your toes. “You’re just having a hard time. It doesn’t mean you’re ruined.”

Big hands pet your hair, soothing and exciting at the same time.

“‘N you didn’t ruin me, either. I shouldn’t’ve said that.” Eddie’s eyes trace over your features, some far away thoughts showing themselves. “We’re just growin’ up, I think, and maybe shit-outta-luck, too.”

You nod, playing with the collar of his t-shirt at the base of his neck.

“It’s so hard,” you fret. “Everyone says I should find myself, but I just wanna fall in love.”

A tear slips from your eye, and Eddie stays quiet, attentive.

“Why am I so shallow?”

Eddie doesn’t know, or maybe can’t explain what he does know. Your crying panics him all the same. In a last-ditch effort to soothe you, he presses his mouth to yours.

It’s not a solution and it’s self-serving, and he’s falling back into this old routine, he knows. Eddie knows. But he loves you, and you’re here, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop falling for you no matter what you do. So he presses you into his bed and licks into your mouth like you’re made of honey.

Soft moans curl out of you like smoke, and Eddie takes them all in his mouth. When he separates from you to lathe over your neck—lost in your heady voice and his arousal—you push his shirt up, feeling his bare skin.

“Eddie,” you whisper, “need you.”

Eddie groans into your throat. That you need him even once almost makes the whole year he lost with you worth it.

“Be patient, baby,” he cooes, but he’s halfway there himself. “Gonna give it to ya.”

He pushes under your shirt, and then he’s taking it off. Goosebumps spread over your hot chest as the open air hits it, and then chills spill over you when Eddie licks over your breasts.

He’s between your legs now, rolling his hips against your center. Both of you moan, washed in a haze of desperation and desire that feels bottomless. You’re arching and preening, perfectly capable of falling apart just as you are, but you want more. You’re always greedy, chasing the most satisfaction you can get.

“Please, Eddie.” Hooking a leg around him, you press his restless pelvis into you and grind onto his covered cock. Eddie makes an animalistic sound into your chest, completely undone.

“Okay—yeah, okay,” he breathes.

His shirt is gone like lightning, and then he’s fumbling for the sleep pants he lent you. Fingers hooked under them and your underwear, he rids you of both in one frenetic tug.

“Turn over, angel.”

Flushing, you do as he says, anticipation seeping from your cunt. Eddie spreads you apart, pressing slovenly kisses over your shoulder blades. Two fingers tease your weeping hole, spreading the hot slick between your legs.

“Fuck,” he curses, his weight pressing you into the mattress. The two fingers glide in easily, palm-down, and Eddie needles into your soft-spot cruelly.

Your cunt sucks his fingers in hungrily, squelching its own demands for something bigger, but pulsating from his relentless fingering. You feel close to tears, naked and needy and untouched where you really need it. Your clit is swollen between your closed legs.

When your cunt grips down on Eddie’s fingers—three now—and your thighs are wet with arousal, Eddie pulls away and shucks his bottoms off. Rucking your ass up further, he straddles your legs and rubs the hot head of his cock over your entrance.

“Look at you, angel.” Eddie fucks himself between your slippery thighs, catching your clit. You cry out, trying to chase the sensation, but Eddie holds you still. He thrusts in a few more times, lubing himself up with your arousal, and then spreads you open again.

Bearing down on you, his chest flush to your back, Eddie pushes his cock into your entrance. From above, he’s in the perfect position to thrust down into your sweet spot. It has you tripping over your words until all you can cry out is his name, over and over.

You’re dizzy and full and tightening on his length, and Eddie finally ends your torture, sneaking a hand under you to toy with your clit. You don’t last long before you’re squirming and wailing and fucking yourself on his cock, and Eddie’s swearing under his breath and coming, too.

Hot and out of breath, you bask in his weight and warmth before he pulls out of you. Eddie’s pillow is wet with condensation and drool.

“Ok?” He rubs your back as he asks. You nod your head, and he sighs. “M’kay. Be right back.”

He comes back with a wet towel and a glass of water, and cleans your sticky thighs before you limp off to the bathroom. Your thank you’s lodge in your throat, so you forego them to avoid crying. The come-down is hard enough, but you’ve been so deprived of gestures like this that all of it goes to waste in comforting you.

You think Eddie knows, and that he’s just as clueless about what to do as you, so you both cling to each other through the night and hope it fixes itself. You have somewhere warm to stay, and someone to hold you, and that’s all that’s ever mattered.

+

thank you for reading! 🦢

masterlist

[val-cansalute]

PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 6

ch. 1 ch. 2 ch.3 ch. 4 ch. 5

don’t be a piece of shit

cw - set in jackson with an unclear timeline, no mentions of joel or jj, kind of half proofread, profanities, depictions of mental illness, graphic situations, CUNNILINGUS 🤰, mdni

Seconds, which blur the line between moments and hours, drag by, yet breaths still come in sharp, ragged gasps.

Your chest still feels heavy, bearing the lingering weight of the memories that overwhelmed you, and the stale, dust-ridden air of your old home still churns maliciously within your rib cage though you’re far from it now. Nothing is proving helpful in satiating your ravenous lungs.

Her hand is already soothing tender circles into your back before you can register it and the violence of your inhale softens.

“Shimmer?” you repeat, words veiled by winded breaths.

“Yeah, that’s right,” like it’s second nature to her, Ellie moves her calloused hand so that it’s splayed across your thumping heart to gently ground you and the room stops spinning so frustratingly.

Your focus shifts to her touch, to the warmth that radiates from her palm.

“It’s kinda fuckin’ impressive you managed to go so long without learning any of their names,” as always, her voice is a quiet rasp, intimate and gentle as a smile plays at her chapped lips.

In contrast, your gaze is intense and, somehow, distant. It makes Ellie’s stomach twist with anxiety.

“Wasn’t planning on staying.”

“… Right. Well, you should probably learn them now.”

You’re back in Jackson – not in your home, but in Ellie’s decrepit hybrid shed, which somehow managed to outdo your actual house by miles.

What your home lacked, hers carried in abundance; warmth and soul, with pictures and posters scattered across the dulled walls and memories laced through the trinkets lining each shelf. It was alive with the force of her affection.

Coming back invited the questioning gaze of the townspeople, but your mind was too tired to pay it any mind, or to pay the fact that she was leading you away from your house any mind either.

“The place you went to... You used to live there? I, uh, saw a carving of your name and your brother’s, I think it was, in the fence. Soren, right?”

“Yeah… Me and Soren…”

“… Listen… Why did you do it? You didn’t wanna be there, I know that much. You were... fucked up, to say the least, when I found you. I don’t understand.”

“I don't know… I don’t want to be safe; I don’t deserve to be safe-”

Your heart beats sporadically at the sudden overbearing guilt inside you, the source of which you can���t trace back to a specific moment, and your breath hitches in your throat so you can't meet her worried eyes. There are so many actions you cannot justify at all, save for the fact that there was a massive remorseful compulsion to do it. For Soren, even though you know, deep down, he’d never have wanted this, you know you did it for him. You’ll never fully be able to explain why, or why you ended up going back with Ellie without argument.

“Hey, I'm here." her soothing voice cuts through the dense anxiousness in the air and, for a moment, the fog clears - the sight of her softened face, so endearing.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Her eyes are so beautiful; it's so easy to forget what you were even thinking about when you dive into them.

"You- fuck- you know that’s stupid, right? Of course you deserve to be safe, y/n, how could you not deserve that?"

You’re a fraud. You had everyone fooled, thinking you had morals, but you can’t let her believe in a falsehood. The words burst out like rust-ridden water from a burst pipe; so explosively that she jerks back slightly, eyebrows knitted in worry.

"Because I’m bad person! You don’t know me, Ellie! I killed him! I fucking beat him to death! I am so fucking disgusting!"

"You-"

"Oh my god, Ellie, he was just a fucking kid! And he was terrified! Terrified of what would happen if he let the infection take over and terrified of hurting me! Fuck, and he begged me to do it before he turned, but I couldn't fucking do it! How could I?! And then I beat him to death as soon as he came for me, because I am a coward, and when it came down to it, all it took was a little scare for me to hurt him so fucking badly... God, Ellie, it didn’t have to be like that; it shouldn’t have fucking been like that but I’m so selfish… He was all I had left… Without him, I’m nothing… But I fucking deserve it. I deserve all the shit that comes my way. And I have to take it. All of it."

Somewhere amidst the fire, she grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer,

"Y/N, no. Deep down, you know that's not true. He was just a kid but -fucking- so were you! You were just a kid, and it's not fair that you had to fend for yourself! It's not fair that you and your brother had to live like this! It's not fair that he got infected, or that anyone did, and it is not your fault that your choice had the consequences it did when you were panicked and desperate and young. It is not your fault it happened the way it did. This world... Nothing about it is fair. Even though I can’t replace him, and I don’t know you as well as him, I care about you and I want to be around you. And I know for a fact that you are not a bad person, and I fucking know that. You are not a bad person. What happened back then was not evil, it was tragic, not evil. You can’t forget it, and you shouldn’t! But your brother would never want you to be stuck in this awful cycle. He would never blame you like this. Shit happens, we do things we regret and life doesn't go the way we plan, we lose people we love, but we move forward. We have to. And you are not alone, not while I’m here, you can never be."

Her words are harsh and sharp, to get through to you, nicking little chips at the edges of your iron-strong resolve. For the first time, you let yourself consider it, and the strength of your guilt’s hold loosens up just a bit.

Through pooling tears that threaten to fall and the lump that sits tight in your throat, you reach out your arms to bury your face into the warmth of her shoulder, and push your shaky, cracking voice out.

“I miss him so much… I can’t stop thing about it… I can’t stop feeling like this…”

Ellie immediately collects your draped body into a fervid hold, trying desperately to cling onto the rare openings you allow her.

“It’s gonna be okay. Just give yourself time. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise you.”

6 MONTHS LATER

The Tipsy Bison’s doors are held wide open, but great gusts of wind are no match for the laughter, clinking of glasses and constant hum of conversation within.

Somewhere amongst the bundles of life, you are sat at a rickety table beside Ellie, Dina, and Jesse, and are fitting in like a puzzle piece beyond all capabilities of your imagination when you first arrived in Jackson.

Jesse’s eyes held fast to Dina, who’s head was thrown back in a wholehearted cackle over something relatively insignificant. You were all slumped in your chairs with great big grins, flushed faces and strands of hair clinging to your clammy necks, in high spirits.

Your heart feels full. For the first time, you can go out and laugh freely without the intense gaze of your overwhelming guilt or constant, racing thoughts of Soren. Panic attacks lie dormant for longer than you’d ever dreamed of.

Ellie’s gaze reaches you, and the way your heart swells with all-consuming affection is mutual. You can tell from the way she looks at you, all warm and admiring.

For a second, the sight of the people behind her falls away and you are the only people left in the room, in the world. Here, you are with people who care about you, want to be around you. Here, there is a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

After a moment, the pink-tinged apples of her cheeks fatten with a sincere, toothy grin, hazy eyes squinting as they flit down to her glass, and you notice that the number of people here has actually dwindled.

“Oh shit, everyone’s gone, I didn’t even realise.” Dina mumbled, scanning the room. Jesse lazily rose from his chair, stretching as he looked back at her,

“We should probably get going too, huh. I'll see you two tomorrow, then.” He nodded over to both of you before huddling together with Dina and drunkenly walking off.

You look back to Ellie; she’s leaning back in her chair, legs spread in a way that brings on certain feelings, raising her glass to her parted lips and her eyes never leave yours.

You watch her swallow the last traces of whiskey and set the glass down before tilting her head at you with a smirk. You’re both drunk, warm, fuzzy, tingly.

Her eyebrows raise before she gets up and leans over, and whispering,

“C’mon, babe,” into your ear.

As you stroll back, you’re met with the refreshing cool night air and you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment, hand in hand with Ellie, watching her ramble on. Your hushed giggles carry through the empty paths.

When you arrive at Ellie's place, stumbling through the door, you collapse onto her bed. This place has become more of a home than your real home; you’re almost never not spending the night. Among the clusters of trinkets and piles of clothes, your belongings have found a place, as well as the acrylic image of your face amidst her paintings.

Candlelight, the room is bathed in the soft orangey glow, casting shadows that dance and flicker across Ellie’s grinning face. You cling onto her dearly, intertwining your limbs with flushed cheeks and gazing up at her longingly, light and airy.

You settle into a comfortable silence with your bodies pressed against each other while she stares up down at her rough palm as you trace, with gentle and loving touches, the lines engraving it, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.

She pecks your cheek,

“Are you sleepy?”

You look up at her with a sly smirk,

“No. Are you?”

“Nuh uh, you know what I’m thinking?”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re thinking?”

You rise from your spot, nestled into her side, taking the hand you were playing with and entwining your fingers as you hover over her. The look on her face is mellow yet excited, her hands already reach out for your waist, already making your body feel hotter.

“You gonna show me, babe?”

She pulls you closer so you dive into the soft crook of her neck, sensitive with trails of tingling skin where you place kisses, desperate to feel the warmth her body emits, desperate for her to feel so incredibly real to you, for her to overwhelm your senses. You’ve never been infatuated quite like this before, never felt quite so comfortable with the love you hold for a person. But with Ellie, it’s simple, easy, comes naturally to you. She’s so many things, but, especially a sanctuary. A sanctuary weathered by the storms of your past but still standing firm.

“Mhmm, I’m gonna show you, Els.”

Ellie’s slumped at the head of her dingy bed.

Her body is bare and her muscles are tensing with each desperate, visceral movement, glowing with a thin sheen of sweat and slick,, as she kneads her fingers into the fat of your ass and meets your lips hungrily.

You hold onto her freckled face, looking down at her fucked out, beautiful eyes. They’re just begging for more after giving it to you for so long, consolidated by the sparkly feeling of her grinding up onto you,

“You’re so hot,”

“Oh, am I?” you mutter, pushing her back against the mattress and watching her eyes widen while chuckling to yourself,

“Wha- Alright, jesus fuck,”

You crawl off her lap with deliberate sexuality, pushing her legs apart abruptly. She clambers up onto her arms but you push her back, watching her tits bounce as she collapses,

“Shut up, El,”

“Oh, I see how it is, you aren’t fucking around anymore. No more mr nice guy, no funny busin-”

“Dude, fucking stop, you just, like, made me un-wet,”

“Oh shit, gotta get serious.”

You smack her thigh gently.

She grins and folds her arms behind her head, her eyes never leaving yours as you lower yourself in front of her pussy. Yours narrow ever so slightly when she grabs the back of your head and pushes it into your mouth, moaning at the contact of your lips with hers.

It gets you warm, placing a kiss filled with genuine love on her puffy clit before borderline making out with her pussy,

The sight of her eyes rolling back as her jaw goes slack has you begging for more, so you run your tongue up from her slit before lapping at it like you’re starved and watching her go cross-eyed from the sheer pleasure.

You can’t help but dip a finger a finger or two into her dripping hole, wanting nothing but to make her feel good, for her to come undone on you, slick smeared over your mouth, nose and chin, dripping lewdly down your palm.

You watch her body convulse, mattress cover clinging to her sweaty back as it arches up off the bed and her legs pull you in graciously.

You rest your head on her thigh and relish in the sight for a moment before she’s looking back into your eyes and urging you to come up so she can hold you, and also to stop breathing onto her clit because her “legs might spasm and strangle you or something,”

You laugh and lay your head down on her naked chest to hear her heart thump within her, in the tender embrace of the arms she holds out for you.

“Els?”

“Hmm?”

“Remind me to take those really fluffy socks I have home with me later. So much stuff is here now, I keep getting annoyed whenever Im actually home for once.”

“Sure, I can do that, if I don’t also forget.”

“Great.”

She lulls your eyes into a soft close with the feeling of her stroking your hair, and as she watches you exist, she realises she’d like to do that for longer. So, she leans into your ear and whispers,

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you just… bring all your stuff to my place, you know, move in with me?”

You raise your head from her chest (she immediately misses the warmth) and meet her eyes, face slowly morphing into an adoring smile which she reflects, before placing a kiss on her forehead and then locking your lips with hers.

PLEASE READ

a/n - last chapterrrrrr ahdgstihaveahugepenisdtyf, banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics, my condolences to anyone who has read this bc i kinda hate it but thanks anyways. im not gonna write anything for a while after this (except for this one req thats been sitting in my drafts for an ungodly amount of time) because of the situation in palestine and the upcoming global strikes. i dont want to think abt a game made by a zionist who embedded zionist propaganda into it and donated money to israel most likely earned from the game. upwards of 30,000 palestinians, 11,000 of which were children, have been murdered by israel since october. yeah, for now, it’s only gonna be palestine-related posts. please, please do not buy the remaster, im begging you. its just a remaster, im pretty sure we can all go without it.