#bc there's an emotion besides despair in there!

[weedle-testaburger]

idk if I'm weird for this but i have this thing where i don't cry or even really get that invested in characters being miserable and bad shit happening to them unless there's some kind of catharsis to it

[kiwibongos]

love how after ibuki's performance at fuyuhikos recovery party everyone was like panicking and bawling and throwing up, shocked and chilled by what they just heard, meanwhile i imagine fuyuhiko is just like. grinning like omg.. for me? :))

[chunkypossum]

WIP Wednesday I guess 😭😭😭😭… Jesus. This one hurts. I have been working on it all day and I … actually recommend no one reads it. I’m writing it bc I have to.

Question for the class. Is dead dove appropriate for hurt/very little to no comfort, major character death(s) … like… what I tag is what you get with this one

Anyway. Here is a snippet if you’re brave (under the cut … and a little peek at the art I made for it…unedited …

“Your hair is getting long.” Like the observation alone would be enough to break the curse on them, Azriel’s hand rose. He reached out to touch a stray strand that had fallen over Eris’ face, to tuck it behind a pointed ear as he had once done. Before he could feel the resistance that tore his heart to pieces each time he met it, Azriel let his hand drop.

Eris watched his hand fall and looked away without saying anything.

“I’m sure Beron hates it.” Azriel tried again. Hoping to lighten the mood before Eris had to leave. It would be dawn soon and Eris could not be caught sneaking in and out of the Forest House.

When Eris still didn’t say anything, Azriel’s brows drew together in frustration and he sat up. His bones ached with the need to reach out and take Eris’ face in his hands, to shake him and force their eyes to meet. Anything.

Azriel rubbed his scars absentmindedly, and waited.

“Do you remember the last time we were together before…” Eris started, his words quickly trailing away.

“Of course,” Azriel said in hushed tones, afraid of disturbing their small bit of peace with his shaking voice. “That, I could never forget.”

“Before you left that day, you brushed your fingers through my hair.” Eris’ voice, already at a whisper, faltered and Azriel lay back beside him.

“Eris.” Calling for him, Azriel blew a small puff of air toward the other male. The hair he had aimed his breath at lay unmoved. Not even his exhales could enter Eris’ space. “Look at me.”

Azriel waited patiently for Eris to respond, counting the breaths by the rising and falling of his chest. His own chest hurt. After a while, Eris did turn back toward him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He blinked and let them fall.

“It was the last thing you touched and I-I can’t bear to have it cut.”

The air left Azriel’s lungs and distantly he knew he should be filled with some kind of emotion, rage, sadeness, despair. Yet, there was nothing. Or rather, there were too many feelings coursing through him he couldn’t pick one to focus on. His grief was a coat of thorns, the roses all torn away by time and cruel hands. All of the pain, none of the beauty.

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train :

@talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @christeareads @climbthemountain2020 @lilah-asteria @shadowsandlint @acourtofbatboydreams @theeternalstruggle @christeareads @molcat07

[atinylittlepain]

hello bestie im back here again with a joel idea <33

ur smut is so fucking good but im in need of some nice fluff rn because I love the last of us but god that show is hard to watch i get so emotional its hard to keep watching sometimes

but for a fluff idea where the reader, joel, and ellie settle down in jackson and Joel begins to realize that he's happy again and he becomes unsure because he feels guilty about sarah but it ends happily bc its what all of them deserve

my darling, my comrade, thank you for bringing this idea to me. i hope i did it justice <3

gif by @maygrant

Good

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Stuck between the despair of the past and fear for the future, Joel struggles to accept the goodness he's found in the present.

warnings | 18+ angst, living with grief, lovely sweetness

..........................

“I still can’t believe that. All that time in FEDRA school and they never taught you how to swim?” Ellie huffs at that, stomping a little further ahead of Joel as she mutters.

“It’s not like we had a fucking pool to do laps in, old man. Give me a break.” He breathes out a laugh, glancing away from the kid and toward his woman as she falls into step beside him.

“No time like the present, kid. Gonna have you swimming like a pro by the end of the day.” He can’t help but smile at her words, and in anticipation of the spectacle that watching her teach Ellie how to swim is going to be. They had lucked out, all three of them having this perfect summer day off from class and shifts in town, and had packed up their day in rucksacks to hike out to the nearby lake with the promise that Ellie would finally learn how to swim.

Life has been– he won’t think the word good, not wanting to jinx anything– but maybe normal? They’ve been living in Jackson for a few months now, and he never thought he’d get used to things like running water and home cooked food ever again, but it seems like he has. Ellie goes to classes while they pick up shifts wherever they’re needed, and at the end of the day, they all come… home. He supposes it is home now, and that makes him nervous as hell. He knows better than most that the minute you get used to something in this world, it tends to disappear on you, and maybe that’s what has been making him hold his woman -  the same woman he crawled across the country with - a little closer when they go to sleep each night in their nice, comfortable bed. 

His thoughts have been swirling between these fears for the future, and a deep despair for the past. If he stays surface level, he usually concludes that he doesn’t deserve any of this, any of the smiles, the easing laughs with Ellie, the sweet press of his woman’s palm along his shoulders letting him know she’s still there. Not after everything he did to get by before. But if he needles past the last twenty years, he hits something that stings even more when he remembers that any happiness he gets, Sarah will always be gone. 

He’s starting to be pulled under by his mind as they continue hiking, but she keeps him buoyed with the way she tangles her fingers with his, offering him a smile as they near the lake. They all shrug off their packs in the grass, she and Ellie already toeing off their shoes. When he sits down with a groan, leaning back on his hands, she gives him a questioning look.

“You’re not coming in?” He squints up at her, the mid-day sun a halo around her head.

“Someone oughta keep lookout. You two go on.” Her mouth twists up, but she drops it with a shrug, pulling off her t-shirt to reveal the faded swimsuit she had managed to trade for along with Ellie’s. The kid is standing with her hands on her hips, looking out at the lake like she’s surveying a new planet. She sidles up alongside Ellie, slinging her arm over the girl’s shoulder and murmuring something about “proving the old man wrong” that makes her laugh, the worry scrunching up her face quick to relieve itself. Joel doesn’t even have time to be annoyed at what she called him, times like these making him quick to thaw, when the kid actually gets to be a kid. 

As she is in most things, Ellie is a quick learner, after some initial trepidation, and soon Joel’s watching the two of them dip and swerve through the water, the picture of grace in the clear summer heat. He smiles to himself, remembering how Sarah learned how to swim. Tommy bribed her into the rec center pool with the promise of a strawberry milkshake, and by the end of the day, Joel had to bribe her out of the pool with the promise of fries to go with said milkshake. The pain is quick to settle in at the memory. He finds himself bringing a palm to his chest, trying to rub out the ache even though he knows it won’t ever go away.

His attention is pulled away by Ellie hauling herself out of the lake, bending over and shaking her dripping hair out before plopping down next to him to rummage through her pack. He glances down at his jeans, now darkened by spots of water from her aggressive shake-off, before turning and quirking his brow at her. Already scarfing down her sandwich, she shrugs, mumbling through a mouthful.

“What? I’m fucking starving, man.” He shakes his head, trying to look annoyed, but failing miserably with the smile he can’t fight off.

“Language, kid. And you’re gonna have to wait a while after eating that if you wanna get back in.” Her brow furrows at that.

“Why?” 

“Because– because you– look, that’s just the rule, ok? S’what they always said– gotta wait a while after you eat if you wanna swim.” 

“Who’s they?” That makes him huff.

“I don’t know, alright? Christ, do whatever you want.” He knows it’s too harsh, but he’s having a hard time staying in the present when the past is hanging so heavy over him. He sighs, resting his arms over his knees and leaning forward, his gaze unfocusing into the grass.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He keeps his gaze hung low, just tilting his head slightly toward Ellie to let her know he is listening.

“Are you ok?” The question catches him entirely off guard, his head whipping around to look at her, his eyes squinted. 

“I’m fine.” Ellie mirrors his own expression, eyes squinting, mouth in a close line as she nods.

“You deserve to be ok, y’know? I believe that.” She just keeps surprising him, and he coughs hard, trying to clear the tightness in his throat before he responds.

“I know, kid. Thank you– I’ll be ok.” She nods again, seeming to accept his answer as she looks back out at the lake. His eyes follow, seeing his woman, floating on her back with a serene look on her face, her arms lightly swaying in the water. He knows Ellie had slipped and called her mom the other day. Maybe it wasn’t a slip at all. 

“Well, if I can’t get back in right now, one of us might as well. Go on, old man. I’ll keep lookout.” He grumbles at the nickname that both of them seem to have settled on for him, but the heat has gotten to him just enough that he listens to her, getting up and shrugging out of his unlaced boots, his t-shirt and jeans quick to follow.

“Jesus, my eyes!” He huffs as Ellie cackles to herself, but is a little too focused on the look his woman is giving him from the middle of the lake to pay much mind to her jabs. 

The water is cool, a relief to every aching joint in his body as he wades in. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this. She meets him in the middle of the lake, an easy smile on her lips as she winds her arms around the back of his neck.

“Hey, handsome.” Even after all this time, he’s still prone to blushing when she talks like that, all syrup and sweetness. He scoffs to hide the creeping heat, his one hand coming to skate up and down her back. She tilts her head, seeming to search his face as she murmurs lowly.

“You’ve been scowling all day. Gonna tell me what’s going on?” She can read him like a book, always could, and it drives him insane most of the time.

“M’fine.” By the look on her face, he knows she isn’t going to accept that answer. He sighs.

“I just– this doesn’t feel real. Like– it’s too good to be true, don’t you think?” Her brow furrows at his words.

“I think it’s good for sure. But I can understand what you mean– waiting for the other shoe to drop, right?” He nods, both of them swaying lightly in the ebb of the water.

“It’s that– but I can’t stop thinking about– about–” His words fizzle out in his throat as he catches sight of something, a flickering of movement hovering just above the water. 

Wings. The smallest splotches of colors blinking like eyes. A butterfly. The only thing that runs through his mind is a name. Her name. His Sarah.

Suddenly, a breathy laugh is rolling out of him.

“What? What is it? Is this– are you having a stroke?” The ridiculousness of the genuine worry across her face just makes him laugh more, his hands finding purchase on her waist and pulling her closer. 

“Joel, this isn’t funny. What’s–” He cuts her off with a smacking kiss, her face stunned when he pulls away.

“I’m fine, darlin. I’m gonna be fine.” He glances one more time at the butterfly, alighted on the surface of the lake for a second before it flutters away. But he knows she hasn’t really left him. Wherever he goes, he knows he has her with him.

He kisses his woman again, this time to the much-vocalized chagrin of Ellie on the water’s edge.

“Gross! You guys are scarring me for life here!” She pulls away from him with a laugh, hollering at Ellie to mind her own business before fixing her attention back on him with a grin.

“Good?” He nods.

“Good.”

[midnight-pluto]

I have an idea feel free to write it or not (childe x fem reader)

Playing truth or dare and someone dared y/n to kiss Childe (they did that bc they knew he was in love with her) she got a little angry and shy about it but she approached him pulling him by his collar to kiss him and everyone in the room start to scream and laugh and Ayato is recording what happened for later use

A DARE.mp4 — childe

TROPES: fluff, crack

PAIRING(S): childe x fem!reader

UNIVERSE: modern

WARNING: someone gets called an orphan at the end, swearing

A/N: I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted! I did my best to write it in a sense where I could include all your details but if you do plan on requesting some more please be more specific so I can do your request justice

THE AUDIO IS quite distorted at first but then clears out to the point where you can hear distinct voices yelling at one another as well as faint sounds of laughter in the background.

As Ayato shuffles with his phone, he quickly sets his phone up, leaning on the wall in order to properly catch what was occurring. After seeing it balance on the wall he turns back to the problem at hand.

“I REFUSE to kiss this ginger! I have standards!” Y/N declares.

From the camera’s recording, on the left was Ayato’s back and on the right was Yoimiya holding back laughter at her friends despair which so happened to be displayed to the camera between the gap of the two.

“C’mon Y/N~ it’s a dare! Besides Childe won’t mind, right Childe?” Ayato teased, looking towards the man next to the girl having a crisis on whether or not to listen to the dare.

“I’m not confirming nor denying that information,” he chuckled.

“What do you MEAN you’re not going to confirm nor deny that information?!” Y/N exclaimed, grabbing Childe by his collar to look at her in the eyes and shaking him back and forth.

“He means he wouldn’t mind making out with you,” Yoimiya whisper yelled through her hands in the direction of the two with a giggle.

Y/N then turns to the blond in shock, “Hold on! Making out and kissing are two different things! I’m not making out with this,” she turns to Childe and pauses, “Twink.”

“Twink?! Excuse you?!” he yelled horrified, face turning pink not only because of the close proximity between his crush and him, but because of the whirlwind of emotions he felt when being called a twink - causing Yoimiya to fall over with laughter while taking photos of the current scene revealing a stunned Ayaka and Thoma next to Y/N.

“You’re excused bitch!” Y/N turned back to face Childe, creating and intense stare-off between the two.

“Y’know, I don’t think Y/N doesn’t need to kiss Childe if she doesn’t want to; we can all just get a free pass,” Ayaka begins, immediately getting cut off by a loud string of gasps and yells as she looks towards her right she covers her mouth in shock trying to prevent any noise from escaping.

The kiss was gentle yet exhilarating - with watchful eyes around them, their loud cheering just became faint background noise in the distance.

Y/N’s eyes with squeezed shut, but soon relaxed as she slipped her hand into his.

Childe’s breath was swept away and gone in an instant. He had been so sure she would’ve followed through with Ayaka’s words but as it turned out she planned to go against her words the moment she spoke them. Well, not like he was complaining any ways.

Ayato hurriedly snatches his phone back up into his hands and points the camera towards the now kissing friends.

Moving 180°, Ayato pans the already landscape view so the whole room and all the participants is now in the frame - him included - pointing to the two opposite of him saying, “That was me. I’m the one who gave her that dare. You’re welcome.”

Immediately pulling away from Childe, Y/N turns her attention towards the blue haired man and yells, “Are you fucking filming us right now?! Give that shit to me right now you little fucking orphan-“

A/N: I’m including this into my 200 follower event since idk if n e one will request but if anyone else would like to, feel free! also I swear I write things much longer than this I jus didn’t know where else to go with this I’m sorry 😭

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Out of all the siblings, legolas is the slowest to anger (this is a hc about my au). Unless you legitimately do something to piss him off, like put his loved ones in danger, he will take everything in stride with an air of nonchalance. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that he’s immortal and thinks it’s way to exhausting to get mad at every little thing. Especially given the circumstances of him growing up in greenwood/mirkwood where there’s always something happening.

As a result, on the quest legolas comes across as very casual about the quest to those who don’t know him. Bc on one hand, yeah it’s an important task, but on the other hand he isn’t really afraid or interested in fucking up bc he let his emotions get out of control.

Besides, outside of Aragorn, Legolas liked the questers well enough, but not to the point where he’d rage at someone threatening them. That changed more over time, obviously, but the fact of the matter is that in the beginning he would have sacrificed any of the walkers, minus aragorn, in a heart beat if it meant succeeding. Thankfully, he isn’t so paranoid or malicious that he felt he would need to, so he just stayed the nice, casual, chill elf he is throughout the quest.

I cannot stress enough how, on one hand, yes, legolas knew and thought the quest and subsequent battles important, on the other hand: fuck it, it’s just a normal day for him. What’s one more battle?

Not enough troops? Outnumbered? Dirty and tired and hopeless? Well damn, that’s happened so often at that point he doesn’t bat an eye.

Legolas is intimately familiar with the death and despair the likes of sauron causes, so he chooses the act positive, he chooses to be casual and happy. He’s not oblivious to the growing shadow, he just refuses to let sauron dictate his life any more than he already is.

It does result him in looking very flighty to his cowalkers though.

*at aragorn and Arwen’s wedding*

Faramir, musing: you know, legolas is much less serious than i would have thought an elf to be. He’s a very light hearted and happy individual and i don’t think i’ve seen him mad at all during the time that i’ve known him. Even during the battles against sauron.

Silvan elf, who overheard him: no one’s managed to piss him off in over a century, and that’s a good thing. Trust me, that’s not an elf who’s temper you want to test, because once you do, it’s quite terrifying.

Eomer, approaching them: really? Because i know i made him mad when i had threatened gimli during our first encounter on the plains.

Silvan: *snorting* trust me, if he actually felt threatened, he’d have lobbed your head off before you even finished drawing your weapon. It’s just a good thing it wasn’t one of his siblings on this quest instead of him. The rest of them are not only 10 times as quick to anger, but are also a lot more vicious and deadly.

Faramir: is that so?

Silvan: yeah, don’t get me wrong, legolas is definitely strong even for most elves, but his family’s just straight up made up of monsters, and he is the weaker one. Not weak, just the weakest of that family.

[soleilnomoon]

Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰

For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭

I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰

Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜

hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨

2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)

“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai

STEP 01:

what does it take to kill a soul? —

a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.

even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.

it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —

he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.

STEP 02:

how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —

when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.

he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.

you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.

lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.

he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.

“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.

you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.

“thank you.”

the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.

you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.

STEP 03:

what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —

frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.

a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.

always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.

the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.

you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.

another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.

he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?

one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.

maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.

STEP 04:

if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —

sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.

you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.

even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.

“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.

your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.

as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”

a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.

he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”

you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.

the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.

[heliianth]

actually bc im never gonna shut up abt it while im still on this im gonna ramble abt botw and totk and maybe how i wouldve written a sequel . & i will pay u money to listen i promise

my favoritest of totks ideas are what it expands from botw. botws whole atmosphere is drowned in quiet mourning. something bad has happened but it was a long time ago. it still hurts but theres nothing to be done now but move forward. something is still missing but all you can do is find something else. nobody has resources to rebuild and you can hear deafening echoes of better times but the alternative is giving up. you are in this frozen state of not quite moving on and not quite in despair. like the numbness stage of grief. and the pivotal element of all of that is that link is alone. like, oppressively alone. its the primary vehicle of conveying this mood. and its interesting because this can be read not only as what link is experiencing through the player but what zelda is feeling as she holds back ganon. its an interesting contrast to have zelda mature faster than link in the flashbacks, only for link to pull her the rest of the way by growing himself

and the reason why i so strongly adore the light dragon aspect of the plot is because it shows how attached to everything zelda has gotten. arguably, zelda held back ganon in botw because she loved link. in totk, she becomes the light dragon because she loves hyrule, which had previously been so unimaginably cruel to her. the crux of her character is learning that attachment is good. loving is good. you deserve to leave an imprint on the world in a shape of Your choosing instead of being another factory print on a paper. on a surface level, shes making the same choice, but the motivation and growth behind it is really powerful

i could waffle for literally ever about all that and the point is that totk takes these ideas and implements them really well through in-game worldbuilding and specifically zelda turning into the light dragon. i would occasionally get extremely emotional just seeing how things have expanded because it feels like the world is finally moving on. theres a catharsis in seeing hyrule finally heal after knowing its desolation so intimately, especially because the state of the land itself is such a strong parallel to the arcs of the two main characters, so you get the sense that not only can people move on, link and zelda specifically have started to as well. thats my favorite part

thats why i think its an odd choice that they decided on a time travel plot. if zelda HAS to be the one getting saved, if she cant be a companion in some way either via sheikah facetime or spirit tracks shenanigans or whatever, there are lots of ways to do this without her being magic fruit snacked ten bajillion years into the past. why spend all this effort intertwining her and link with the land, only to remove her from the equation and have no further growth? in botw its understandable that hyrule is stagnant and only changes when link does because zelda is stagnant and link is doing the one changing during the game. in totk its the opposite. there are lots of ways to do this with out Having to play as zelda (though honestly that would be the way id go about it)

also a lot of my own ideas have to do with the wasted potential of a place like the depths???? what the hell do you mean theres this mind bogglingly big cavern underneath the entirety of hyrule which mysterious people used to live in and it has almost no story relevance beside being a cool setpiece???????? I FEEL INSANE?!?!??!?!? there are so many good ideas in totk that never get expanded dude FUCK

i think no matter how much i speculate and draft my own preferences of how i wouldve liked totk to elaborate on the things it introduces i cant ever bring myself to present them like they couldve realistically happened and gotten thru the nintendo writing room simply bc of the games format. if it were up to me doing certain story missions would radically change the open world as events happened in real time and thats not the MO of the game's design philosophy. honestly totk's biggest enemy is the memory system and i need to kill it with fire

[byuljoonie]

6 inch (heels) // jhs

She murdered everybody and I was her witness.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: one shot, angst, fluff, yearning, growing tension, friends to lovers, slight smut

word count: 4K+

warnings: mentions of mature topics, recreational dr!g use, mar!juana, cigarettes, club scene/celeb party, cunnilingus, dry humping bcs desperate, fingers ( in a few ways…), dom!sub, dom hoseok!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, and the most important warning of all: JITB era hoseok.

summary: your best friend convinces you to attend a launch party, without mentioning the presence of a certain someone. Inspired by the song 6 Inch from Beyoncé’s Lemonade.

note: I really don’t know how long this will end up but hoseok is going away soon and this is me coping. being delusional is the best way. we know namjoon is my soulmate but hobi…actually I’ll be quiet. sorry if this is too raunchy for you, I got some fluff coming soon. sorry for any errors, I suck sometimes. I hope you like it feel free to leave comments and asks. playlists in bio🫶🏾

“Y/N just give it a chance. You’ll never get out if you don’t actively try,” she pleaded. Here I am, still in bed reading the same book while listening to my best friend attempt to persuade me to leave the house. I know she’s right but I’d rather choke than admit how much I want to go. The thought of complimentary champagne and weed was the only thing lingering in my mind. Well, not the only thing but I’d rather not talk about him.

“I can see that sparkle of longing in your eye and I promise he won’t be there!” Aniase exclaimed dramatically. I almost missed the Cheshire grin that slipped past her lips. “I am not even thinking about him, I just have nothing to wear,” I said beaming with trepidation. I can’t put anything past her I don’t know why I even try. “The launch starts at 8, I’ll hang your dress on the door at 6,” she explained letting out a breviloquent sigh. I glanced at the white clock on my nightstand, zoning out slightly as the iridescent 4:46 swirled into unrecognizable shapes. I turned around to see Aniase walk out quietly shoulders heavy with burden.

I closed my long-forgotten novel and flopped my head into my pillow in despair. I don’t need everyone thinking they constantly have to babysit me. I know they only want what's best for me, but sometimes what's best for me is just me. The comfort in knowing I can’t get hurt right now is enough to appease my unstable emotions even if it means coincidentally being busy during events he could possibly attend. As much as I want to rot away in bed, my perspicacious ability warns me. Aniase’s intransigent attitude flashed through my mind.

I lept from my bed as the clock read 5:30, I’ve spent too much time moping about. I rush to my bathroom searching for my makeup bag catching a glance of myself in the mirror bringing me to a halt. Bags adorned my tired eyes, a stain-riddled t-shirt hung loose around my torso, all while a giant hair clip he gifted me held back my messy hair. Seems as if evening passing he’s somehow invading my everyday life.

“Hoseok. Jung Hoseok,” his name appeared suddenly in my mind. I don’t think Aniase is telling the truth about him coming to the launch but on the slight hope that he does, I can’t look like this! I’m a wreck and all because of a man whose smile can light up an entire universe. I’m so utterly in love with him that everything feels unfeasible without him. A radiant star even the moon smiles back when he bids a greeting, our first encounter on boundless repeat.

In my first year of graduate school, I received a paid internship from HYBE as a library assistant. I would run errands for the librarian, sort catalogs for upcoming meetings, assist in presentations, and my favorite help HYBE staff find the right read. I’ve always been a diffident individual, preferring to work or compete alone. Books and writing were my best friends, besides Aniase of course. Haruki Murakami is my favorite author, when a certain Kim Namjoon sauntered in with a bright Hoseok in tail looking for his newest release I was ecstatic, to say the least. Combating the harshness of reality while completing a Ph.D. is enough in itself, but combine it with continual yearning and you’re done.

“Hey Y/N! You already know what I’m here for,” Namjoon said cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear at me. “I sure do and I hate to say it but I may have read the first chapter already…” I trailed off with a guilt-filled expression. Namjoons boisterous laugh filled our ears as he grabbed the book from my waiting hand. “I knew you couldn’t wait! You’re such a sly fox and for what?” he playfully questioned with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t help but be myself,” I smirked, “also it’s just as profound as we thought.” I shot back gleefully. I glanced over at Hoseok suddenly getting chills when our eyes connected. His fluffy, black hair styled gracefully on his forehead, tan skin illuminated in the library spotlights. His expression of curiosity only peaking my interest further. He wore loose washed-out blue jeans and a short-sleeved black sweater with a single white strip near the neck and arms.

Namjoon stood knowingly glancing between us. He shook his head in disbelief at the awkward staring contest we were having. “Ah hyung this is Y/N,” Namjoon said signaling to me cautiously. He knew how hard it was for me to introduce myself to anyone. I’d grown close to the patient leader during my first few weeks at HYBE. He frequented the library even advocating for its renovation and new employment. I’ve spent countless nights with him arguing over our next read or what guitar riff is better in a song. He’s another constant in my life I will forever be grateful for.

I raise my hand in return as Hoseok reaches for it across my desk. “It’s nice to finally meet you Y/N I’ve heard so much about you, you can call me Hoseok or J.” he beamed. His delicate hand lingered in mine for a second too long, I watched as his golden bracelet slid down his wrist. “Likewise,” I stuttered out embarrassingly quietly. Namjoon could have sworn he saw sparks fly when my manicured hand slipped into Hoseoks.

“Y/N it’s time for your lunch break, take an hour and a half we have to stay late tonight.” The librarian said in passing with her lunch bag in hand. Before I could respond she was already near the door, exiting without another word. I let out a sigh of dread and started to say my goodbyes. “Y/N why don’t you join us for lunch, seems like you have some free time today,” Namjoon said looking at Hoseok. I went to shake my head no until I saw Hoseok waiting for an answer. “You know what, sure can we get tteokbokki please?” I asked fluttering my eyelashes at Namjoon knowing he’ll break. “Of course, hyung’s buying let’s go!” he said playfully rolling his eyes at me.

I snap out of my reverie grabbing my makeup bag from under my cabinet. I slip into the first pair of matching undergarments I find, not having time to waste. I don’t know what color dress Aniase bought me so I settled on a black smoky eye with cat eyeliner and a glossy lip. I made a scornful face at my reflection when suddenly loud knocking fills my bedroom. “Open up I have your dress and you’re going, I won’t take no for an answer-” Aniase halts in the middle of her sentence as she takes in my appearance.

“You look so fucking good oh my gosh!” she yells pushing past me into my room, the small black fabric in her hand catching my eye. I turned around wide-eyed as she smiles at me holding it up. “Is that-” I start to get teary-eyed as she passed me the dress I’ve been wanting for months. It’s this simple black Calvin Klein dress I saw on a runway with Hoseok months ago. It was a slightly above-the-knee body con with velvet black straps. I’d been telling them how much I’d fallen in love with it and that I needed to have it one day. “Yes it is, I love you and no one deserves it more than you,” she said closing the space between us and pulling me in for a tight hug.

“To be completely honest with you I also got the dress because I knew you had the perfect pair of shoes to match,” she admitted looking directly at the shoes in my open closet. “I fucking knew you were up to something, I’ll wear the shoes if you go roll a joint right now,” I said pushing past her with a frustrated huff, grabbing the sleek white box from the closet floor. “You got it, boss,” she said laughing as she walked out of my room. I crossed my room and set the shoe box on my bed. I slipped into the dress, taking a few minutes to admire my figure in the mirror. I glanced at the clock that now read 6:46. I put on a small silver cross necklace my parents gifted me for getting into grad school, I can’t believe I’m already halfway through my last year.

I opened the shoe box on my bed and gasped at how beautiful the shoes were. Hoseok gifted me a pair of 6-inch black Versace Medusa Aevitas, but instead of the usual golden charm he custom-made a silver sun and moon charm. One on each shoe, coinciding to make a gorgeous pair of heels. I never had the chance to wear them until now. I slipped them on and took a quick picture of myself in the mirror. Feeling my reflection come alive and ignite with a passion akin to madness. I felt irresistible and I needed someone to see.

I don’t know what came over me but in a flash I grabbed my phone, angling myself in a provocative pose in the mirror. I snapped the picture trying to come up with a clever caption to send Namjoon. “Hey Siri, play 6 Inch by Beyonce.” I typed out laughing at my cringe idea. I didn’t have time to react before I instantly got a notification.

Hobi ddaeng: “Wow..you look stunning baby.”

My eyes widened in horror as I read the recipient's name. I audibly screamed and I looked down in shock. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how I feel right now. I meant to send that to Namjoon I’m royally fucked. I have a plethora of questions but the main one being why did he respond so fast? I couldn’t stomach a response right now, I called Aniase into my room telling her I’m ready to smoke. My mind stayed fixated on Hoseoks' message through the night's progression. Aniase stared at me puzzled at my sudden mood change. “Is this because I made you wear the shoes?” she probed and passed me the joint. “No.” I simply stated, inhaling the plant to calm down.

At 7:50 I call a taxi to the apartment and we begin our 30-minute commute to the event center. I cross my legs hastily hoping the taxi driver didn’t get a peak under my short dress. His taxi smelled of cigarettes but he appears to be a nice middle-aged man. An email notification from my phone penetrates the stale air, making me jump slightly. The first thing I see is my professor's name and I audibly groan. “I’m so freaking tired of talking to my prof about my dissertation!” I exclaimed crossing my arms over my chest. Aniase laughed and didn’t spare me a second glance from her phone. “I thought Joon was helping you with that? Quit complaining and start worrying about the real problem!” she said. “Which is?” I questioned confused at her aimless outburst. “Your sex life,” she stated dryly looking up and laughing at the look of disgust on my face.

“You’re so gross just shut up please,” I begged while slapping her knee in embarrassment. I looked up noticing the taxi driver holding back laughter. I was quiet the rest of the ride and my nerves only grew worse. When we arrive at the building our driver opens the door for both of us and we are ushered inside by 2 security officers. As we walk through the labyrinth, the fluorescent office lights start to make me dizzy. I steady myself and give Aniase a look of reassurance.

“Here you go ladies, enjoy,” one of the tall officers says. He combs his hands through his gelled black hair and holds the door open. Aniase thanks, them as we cross the threshold into a sea of blinding lights. Blue, red, neons, and purple all flickered through the black-lit room. “Everything’s going to be alright Y/N, we can leave whenever you’re ready. Let’s go get a drink,” Aniase said pulling me through the small forming crowd on the dance floor. We spot the white-clothed table filled with champagne flutes and jello shots. “Isn’t this a clothing launch, it almost feels like a frat party,” I thought to myself. She handed me a glass of champagne and we downed it with solid cheers. This was Don Perigon 88, it tasted like heaven on the tongue and eased my nerves.

“Hey Aniase, Y/N!” a familiar voice echoed from the crowd. Kim Seokjin emerged from the crowd beaming at Aniase. I almost gagged when she sent a flirtatious wink in his direction. He grabbed her by the waist and gave her a bear hug. Sweeping her off of her feet because of their conflicting height difference. He then put her down and gave me a quick hug and lame pat on the back. “You suck Jin why don’t you two just fuck already?” I questioned causing him to turn red. “Hey you’re one to talk Ms.Jung,” Aniase struck back with funny intensity. “Fine, you win!” I said raising my hands in defeat. “Y/N about that…I’m going to steal Aniase for a while see you!” Seokjin said grabbing her hand and running before I could protest.

I grabbed another glass of champagne and walked slowly to a corner of the room. I can’t believe he just took her like that and she didn’t protest! I’m going to fight her later, she promised not to leave me. I nursed my glass for 20 minutes before receiving a text from Namjoon. Starting to feel the drinks I respond slowly.

Joonie Bear: “Are you going to the launch party Y/N/N?”

I nodded at my phone realizing he couldn’t see me. I held up my empty glass beside my face and took a quick selfie for him. Hoping he’d tell me he’s on his way or he invites me over. I received another notification while I’m thinking about leaving and going to get drunk with Namjoon.

Joonie Bear: *heart eyes* Great

I respond quickly this time, asking if he’s coming to the launch. Disappointed at his response and lack of enthusiasm, I wait 10 more minutes before I leave my spot. He left me on read and I am thoroughly pissed, 2 of my friends bailed on me while I’m tipsy and alone. I strut towards the drink table bumping into someone along the way. I down 2 more glasses and tipsily head to the restrooms. I needed to loosen up and I know just how.

I burst through the large door stumbling towards the countertop and clinging on. I grab my pen out of my purse and take a long pull, a euphoric rush of calmness invading me. I look up to see a blurred reflection in the large mirror. My eyes hung seductively low as the alcohol coursed through me. I could feel myself growing hotter as if a certain assailant was caressing my body. Flashbacks of his hands on my neck ravaged my mind. It’s never gone far enough with Hoseok and I need him.

Loud music starts blaring through the speaker to catch the attention of the guests. I check the time on my phone, it reads 9:00 pm adorning my wallpaper of Namjoon and me at a restaurant. I lingered in the restroom for an unprecedented amount of minutes, techno-pop music blasting through high-definition speakers as models walked on a stand-in runway. My heart is suffering with every beat, I have to leave. After I hear someone announce that the runway walk is over I check myself one last time and walk out.

Like the devil himself making a special appearance, I lock eyes with Jung Hoseok as I exit the restrooms. With the rhythm of the music matching my heart's beat, he smirks at me in surprise. I nod at him and run to look for Aniase. I can’t believe I just avoided him to his face, where the fuck is Aniase? “6-inch heels, she walks in the club like nobody's business. Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness…” Beyonce sings on as the hard bass palpitates through my eardrums.

I look over my shoulder in disbelief as Hoseok maneuvers his way through the crowd, gravitating toward me. I spare him a knowing look, beckoning him to follow me. I finally break out of the crowd leaving through the door behind the Dj booth. I walk down a long hallway and glance over my shoulder to make sure Hoseok is following me. A second later he bursts through the door eyeing me hungrily like well-marinated prey.

I make a right down the hallway and enter the first door I see. I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the bright dressing room light, being accustomed to the dark room making me overly sensitive. I notice a blue couch on the opposite side of the room facing the door, I hurry to take a seat because my legs feel numb. I grow more nervous with every passing second that I’m alone. Hoseok cautiously opens the door letting out a sigh of relief as we made eye contact. I took in his presence and outfit as he closed the space between us.

He wore a low-cut black top with baggy blue ripped jeans and a matching jean jacket. Luxury brand pins adorned his jacket and rings rested comfortably on his nimble fingers. He stared at me through his black cat eye shades, the brand matching the shoes I’m wearing. He set his glass of champagne on the small table next to me, not breaking eye contact as he invaded my space. Hoseok stares down into my eyes causing me to grow wetter with his every action. He takes off his sunglasses setting them in his jacket pocket before he finally breaks the silence.

“I feel like I’ve been chasing you all night,” he said lowly taking my hand in his and pulling me up. He spun me around and sat down in my spot, leaving me standing idle in front of him. He took in the sight of my outfit, eyeing my heels curiously. “Finally got you to wear them huh? Let me see you walk again doll,” He commanded nicely. I nodded and began walking away from him, smoothing my dress down in the front before turning swiftly on my heel and stopping. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I watched Hoseok palm himself through his jeans. I could feel the heat between my legs growing embarrassingly persistent. I nearly moaned at the sight of him, his skin glowing like a fallen angel.

“Come here baby,” he growled and I sprung into action, quickly closing the space between us sitting on his lap with my thighs sprawled on either side trapping him. I brace myself by placing my head on his chest, feeling his heart palpitate with mine. Hoseok then gently grabbed my face bringing it up to his, “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time Y/N knowing you’ll come back to me,” he started while staring into my attentive eyes. “I think about you day and night, those gorgeous eyes, the last time I felt your soft hands, the way your lips felt around my-” he said ceasing because of my urgency to kiss him.

He was completely magnetic, the silkiness of his deep voice sending me into oblivion. I sighed against his lips irrevocably getting a taste of something I will never again relinquish. I felt his hands travel down the back of my dress, roughly grabbing my ass under my dress. The taste of his lips intoxicated me and dragged me deeper into my addiction. The mix of alcohol, drugs, and Hoseok was enough to make me feel weak. He pressed my body against his with unpalpable desire, pulling away to let us catch our breath.

He grabbed my hips guiding me to rest on his right thigh. “I meant what I said Y/N, I can’t let you go..” he trailed off breathlessly. Though our self-control has already failed us tonight, I saw a flicker of something sinister in his eyes. He grabbed my hands which lay idle on his chest and place them on his shoulders, he then pulls up my dress to make my movement more accessible. “You know what I want doll, ride my thigh like the desperate slut that you are,” he commanded voice permeated with lust. My breathing grew shallow as he picked up his glass from the table and took a sip, “go ahead now,” he deadpanned motioning for me to start. Placing his drink down, he captured the straps of my dress and slowly slid them down, making me remove my hands from his shoulders and let the straps fall. He then grabbed the front of my dress yanking it down, to stare at my chest with lustful eyes.

The air was heavy, my skin damp and feverish being exposed to him. The cold air caused my nipples to harden, he sensed my aching need and started massaging at the supple mounds. Mindlessly groaning as I start to slowly move. I ground myself on the denim fabric and whimpered at the sweet pressure on my clit, my panties only adding to the friction. I couldn’t last long, I craved him for so long the need to consummate our relationship consumed me.

No amount of masturbating or toys could make me drunk with lust the way Jung Hosoek does. He was as addictive as any gateway drug, as mesmerizing as a siren's song. I could feel my orgasm growing closer, desperately moaning for him to take me. I continued to circle my hips on his thigh, biting my already swollen lips to muffle my needy noises. “Don’t be quiet now Y/N, ride my thigh just like that. Tell me how bad you need me,” he said continuing his devilish assault on my clothed center.

“Talk to me baby, I don’t care who hears,” he growled grabbing a fistful of my hair and exposing my sensitive neck to him. He starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses up my neck until he reached just behind my ear. Earning a loud groan from me as he leaves a harsh love mark behind. Stars fill my view as my orgasm reaches its climax. Hoseok then abruptly stands up, placing me to the right of him on the couch.

“I’m sorry doll, you’re not cumming tonight until I’m inside you,” he states plainly as if this esoteric action is commonly known. I whine in displeasure as my orgasm blindly fades into nothing, my body still tingling with fervor. “Ya-” I began to whine and was forcefully stopped when Hoseok stuck two fingers in my mouth. “Oh now you want to talk,” he said smirking as I proceeded to suck on his pointer and middle fingers. I lean back on the couch, melting into a mess of libido and yearning. “Good girl, you look like an absolute sin right now.” he gushed as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

He angled his camera above me and snapped a picture, staring at his phone in awe for a second. He then pulled his fingers from my mouth and ran them down my front until he reached the top of my panties. “You want me here right pet?” he teased maniacally, making me whimper pathetically. “Use your fucking words Y/N or I won’t touch you,” he commanded taking my throat in his hand and giving it a light but serious squeeze.

“Please touch me, sir, I need you to fuck me so bad,” I cried out defeated and horny. “You know I love when you call me that doll,” he said while aggressively yanking my panties down. He then shoved them in his back pocket and gave me a sly wink. He spared me one last look before he dove in. He starts feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy, consuming me like his last meal. I scream out in pleasure as he grinds his tongue inside me, slurping and giving off the dirtiest sounds I’ve ever heard. One of his hands snakes its way up gripping my right breast and massaging in torturously slow circles. I’m almost at my climax, rhythmically riding his tongue when my phone loudly interrupts our session of perversion.

A familiar ringtone fills the room but that doesn’t stop Hoseoks wanted assault on my body. He continues indulging in the sweet sounds that I emit all at his leisure. My phone stops ringing earning a sigh of relief from Hoseok, sending a vibrational wave through my core. It starts again causing me to groan in annoyance, grabbing my phone from my discarded bag somewhere on the couch. I push his head away trying to pry him away from me, but he grips my thighs harder and hungrily laps at my pussy. I yelp in surprise moaning at the sudden pressure increase.

“Ho-Hobi she called twice, it has to be important,” I stutter out still trying to push his head away, tears slipping from my eyes as he stares into them. It feels so divine, but I aggressively answer the phone anyway. “Y- Y/N,” Aniase gurgles out, I could hear the drunken stupor in her voice. “Can we go home please, I don’t feel so good,” she slurred, “Hey! Y/N it’s Jin, Aniase may have taken a few too many shots,” he confessed nervously into the phone. I gave Hoseok a concerned look and his brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled away. “Seokjin you know she can’t drink that much, why the fuck would you let her.” I seethed into the phone, pulling my dress straps back over my shoulders. Hoseok rose from the floor and plopped on the couch next to me, mouth glistening with bright eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t help but do what she says, I love her..” he gushed at the end causing me to gag into the phone. “Whatever Jin, both of you better be waiting for me when I make it outside the main room door.” I passively said on the phone. I ended the call and stood up to fix my dress. Hosoek reaches for my hand pulling me back down to his lap.

“Trouble with the old married couple?” he playfully questioned igniting an uproar of laughter from both of us. I nodded and told him that I need to leave, standing up again and stuffing my phone in my purse. I turned to leave and Hoseok quickly stood up capturing me by my waist from behind. He let his right hand slowly trail up my body and stop on my neck, “don’t think I would let you get away that easily dollface.” he threatened squeezing my neck once more. “After you get home and settled, I’ll be downstairs waiting for you Y/N,” he promised, letting go of my neck with a chaste kiss.

I turned around and kissed him one last time before I departed the room. I run to a nearby restroom hoping I don’t get lost on the way back to the main room. I grow wide-eyed at my reflection in the mirror, my hair was a mess, my eyeliner is smeared from crying, my pupils are blown, and lastly 2 prominent marks decorate my neck. I try to make my hair as presentable as I can, removing my eyeliner smudges, and putting in clear eyedrops for my bloodshot eyes. Once I’m decent I stammer out of the restroom almost falling in my heels, again.

As I’m making my way down the hallway mindlessly thinking of Hoseok I can hear Beyonce’s voice echo through my mind. “You’ll always come back to me…” she sings dreamily causing me to a halt. His face projected in my mind once more, bringing a small smile to my lips. I walk through the Dj door, slipping past everyone before someone stopped to question my whereabouts. I burst through the main room entrance seeing Seokjin stroke Aniase’s hair as she rests her head on his chest.

“Where the hell have you been Y/N Belgium!?” he said frowning at me. “Nowhere I got sick on the walk back sorry, come on Aniase let’s go,” I said apologetically walking up and taking her hand. She drunkenly said her goodbyes to her boyfriend, and we walked outside to the driver Seokjin had ready for us. The drive back to our apartment felt like an eternity.

I woke up Aniase on arrival and help her up to our place, thank god for the elevators because our last apartment was a death trap accompanied by stairs. Aniase protests me putting her to bed, becoming inquisitive about where I was the entire night. After fighting her to put her pajamas on she finally gave in and fell asleep on my bed.

I haven’t received a text from Hoseok yet and I’m starting to think he’s not coming, or worse he’s changed his mind. My heart aches for a second, letting the somnolent atmosphere creep in before it's all ripped away with the sound of a text notification. I smile in my bathroom mirror as I finish retouching my makeup. I leave Aniase a note on my bedside table with 2 Tylenol and a coupon for a breakfast delivery service. I check my phone as I walk towards our apartment door, the text from him sending a shiver down my spine. I race to the elevators with my overnight bag in tow and a cheesy grin on my face.

My sunshine: I’m downstairs dollface come on, I have some joints already rolled ;)

THE END

[hajihiko]

if you got to choose, what would the despair disease look like for each of the dr2 survivors? (other than akane who we already saw)

i really like when ppl makes hajimes that he has zero filter for his bitchy thoughts, or unnaturally happy (bc boys self esteem is nonexistent :(

ooh fun! Ok

I thought it would be sort of oppositesies, based on Akane, but then it kinda sorta wasn't? But I'm basing it a little bit on that, or at least stuff that would be jarring for them specifically

Hajime: agreed on Happy Disease. I think I saw someone illustrate that once? Just like, not getting anything done because everything is so nice, totally complacent, smiling so much it hurts and his eyes water. Youd think it's nice but it's like, bordering on hysteria? He actually looks ... not super content.

Souda: Maybe like, Fearless Disease? Kinda turns into a big jerk, mocks everyone else for being worried, keeps trying to off on his own to find the killer or Monokuma because he ain't scare of no bear! Bring it on! Kind of scary almost??

Fuyuhiko: Ok so his primary function is Anger but anger is like a secondary emotion or whatever.... maybe Trusting Disease? I feel like that falls a bit into Ibuki's territory though. He's also very dedicated though, maybe like, Flippant? Like changes his mind about everything at the drop of a dime. Probably annoying if hes like "I'm gonna stay inside. ..... CHANGED MY MIND I'm outside now". (Or "I'm gonna try to be nice and friendly from now on... CHANGED MY MIND taste my blade")

Sonia: I feel like Sonia is the hardest because she doesnt have like a primary feature besides being Nice.... Bitch Disease?? 😂😂 just SUPER mean to everyone. (So ... Hiyoko Disease lmao) I bet she could cut deep if she wanted to. Maybe she'd even like, pit people against each other?? Since she's kind of team "Everyone stop fighting 😣😣" ??

(here I accidentally got too deep into this scenario and it turned into a canon divergence lol oops)

I feel like if this, Sonia and Souda would be a very explosive combination and probably be need to kept apart from one another. Hajime isn't really any danger to anyone by himself, only if the killer got to him and manipulated him, but everyone can really feel how hard it is to do investigations and trials without him. Fuyuhiko *is* a danger to himself (when isn't he) and just needs supervision and someone patient. Might also be a little dangerous on and off but thankfully he's too loopy to actually plan anything.

I'm also imagining who would be sort of, in charge... Last time it was Hajime Fuyuhiko and Mikan, Mikan is still around so she can still be the Nurse and taking care of everyone, but Nekomaru and Peko (who would generally be taking care of their respective people) are gone. So??

Would Chiaki volunteer to stay behind in the hospital? Idk why she didn't the first time, it seems like sth she'd do. Nagito probably shouldn't be around a disease of any kind, so he's out. That leaves Gundham, Hiyoko, Akane and Ibuki (assuming we're leaving Akane out)... out of all of them, I feel like Akane or Gundham would volunteer. Prrrroooobably Gundham? Bc we're mixing it up and because he might think he's immune to diseases of this world or whatever.

Ok so Gundham, Chiaki and Mikan are at the hospital!

Ok so in this case maybe this is when we switch to Nagito POV? Hajime can't die yet, we need him, he's too plot relevant. If this is the same happening but different people, I think it's only fitting that Mikan gets the same disease and ends up being the killer, only because I feel like Remnant Memories trump every other motivation and need to be established as Super Dangerous.

(EDIT:) WAIT OMG Chiaki was never a remnant but what if.... Remnant!Gundham.... especially if Sonia was introduced sooner a a love interest, and Souda, the heartbreak, that could be scary too aaaaaa I already posted tho

Fuyuhiko dying would be a narratively bad choice considering his two death scares so far, but also kind of hilarious (I've mentioned before, since he was SUPPOSED to die at the hospital, how funny it would be to have him finally croak at that point; but it IS narratively Not Good). So he and Hajime are safe (yay)

what if. Remnant!Mikan manages to manipulate Sonia and Souda to go after each other, either of them kills the other, and the killer is executed. Since Mikan didn't actually kill anyone, she lives. What would happen then?? The remember disease goes away eventually, but would her memories of the whole disease ordeal? What if they just had a full on Remnant in their midst (I dont think that's how it would work, since Akane got better, but what if Mikan at least remembered manipulating the murders?)

I think it could be interesting, anyway. Oops! This went far lol

[ferociousconscience]

@wanderinghedgehog, I'm so sorry, I wanted to put this under this post of yours, but tumblr keeps eating it. Hey!! You are right!! I really loved your analysis, and I really hope it's not too unwelcome of me to expand on this myself, as it's something I quietly think about almost every day during my meditations on Javert's character, and don't have a lot of occasion to speak about! I feel as though the best, most overlooked part of Javert's character is this exact thing; His fall is set up in his introductory chapter. Javert is born to a wolf-- He domesticates himself using society and virtue as his sword, wielding it against the parts of himself that he hates-- Only to revert back into a wild, snarling animal when faced with Valjean. His own personal sense of duty and professional boundaries are ALWAYS being blasted specifically by the presence of Jean Valjean (no matter if that presence is real or imagined). It's not just in Javert Derailed, either!

In The Descent, it is present in the fact that he went against Madeleine's orders, which were to immediately free Fantine without punishing her. before those orders, he is a mere hunting dog, truly! He's not the one doing the killing of Fantine, that's the job of a prison. He's merely the one facilitating her death. As we see in the beginning of the scene, Javert is cold and unfeeling in the carrying out of his duty, but he experiences "the most violent emotions he had ever felt in his life" as soon as Madeleine enters the room and speaks on her behalf. Hugo points out that Javert going against a superior was here before an unthinkable action, but his extreme emotions about "What the mayor could be" in that moment blasted that wall away. Madeleine easily destroys something that was once an ingrained part of Javert-- Javert himself says it is the first time in his life that he would do such a thing, and that he was despairing to do it. Later, furious at being humiliated by the man he knows to be Valjean, he writes his letter of denunciation. In Javert, the book named after him (which I also think is significant, considering the books named after characters seem to be highlighting a character's most painful moment, moments at the cost of themselves, ala Eponine), he admits to Madeleine that he had denounced him as a convict out of what he himself initially thinks is a valid complaint, but is then (mistakenly) lead to believe that his fury was just out of personal beef towards a man that apparently had nothing to do with any of this besides Madeleine looking like him, simply resembling Valjean, and that he was not only willing, but demanding needily to destroy his own societal standing, his own career, his own life to make himself virtuous again, able to live with himself again. This is something that I go over so many times-- The Javert chapter is basically just a beta version of Derailed-- That off-screen "Earthquake" Javert goes through must have been so very similar to what he felt in Derailed. He is being forced to face his own abhorrent "mistakes", going against what he had been trained-- and for what? Valjean. The mere bothersome memory of Valjean had eaten away at his "virtue", and so, in a word, Javert must be erased to become "himself" again. In Aftershock, Javert is literally turned into a horrible demon because of his emotions towards Valjean. No longer the stoical and calm man that he was set up as, he turns into a sloppily-dressed animal, slurring his speech, barking out words, grinning and laughing like a madman, so filled with self-satisfaction over being right about Valjean and moreover catching Valjean that Fantine dies of fright. [Continued in a reblog, tumblr is cutting me off bc its too long lol]

[carrotzcake]

lots happening, i feel very overwhelmed.

I accepted my current job knowing it was temporary, that we'd be closed for renovations around/after the holidays. my boss, store owner who micromanages and doesn't really know wtf he wants, has yet to give us a closing date. we don't even know our holiday hours; this makes it very challenging to make any sort of plans or schedule appointments.

yesterday, i finally received the unemployment money i've been filling for since july. at least that paperwork is finally straightened out so if I become unemployed again in the near future, i (theoretically) can easily return to filing claims. i am grateful to receive this benefit but frustrated that 15wks of claims is approximately equivalent to 2wks of employment at my former job. on top of regular household bills, i have medication to pay for, and specialist appointments (RD, therapist, psychiatrist). I don't currently have a therapist, bc i've had a hard time finding one who will take me and struggle to justify $150ish/wk. i haven't seen a psychiatrist since mine left over the summer either; i finally have an appt w/ the replacement next week but that's gonna cost me over $200.

i also received word from my lawyer yesterday, we're moving forward w/ my case and i've been instructed to compile discovery documentation. any time i think about my case or the sitatuation, i am filled w/ so much rage and complex emotions. i need to find a way to collect this info w/o reviewing it in too much detail or spiraling out. maybe @theaeolianharpist can be a coworking buddy. or this new girl i'm sorta seeing (??!!)

i kind of want to email my old therapist to give her an update. idk if that's appropriate. but i don't really feel like i have any supports-i can't talk to my family about it and feel uncomfortable sharing w/ newish friend who don't really know me that well.

i have a couple of job interviews lined up for next week but not holding my breath. i think my family is visiting for xmas but still not sure. no one communicates effectively or takes initiative besides me.

/endrant. just lots of feelings of grief, loneliness, despair. thanks for reading.

[danger-zcnes]

❝ Si-Silver... ❞ his voice is trembling. Sonic can't move. He's in no position to look away, to look away from something so terrible. All he can do is keep watching and hope Silver will do the same... wait... that's not right... He can feel his thoughts running away from him as tears well in his eyes. All those people... did they really die... in such a horrible way? Why? Why did they... Was it his fault? ❝ Get out of here... pl-please... they'll get you too -- ! ❞ / dr au bc agony

-  ✩   「 @happyheroiism 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   This is... terrible.

They’ve never— They... Silver has NEVER seen something so horrific. Have they? Something so repulsive, Silver’s mouth already hinted with the threat of bile as their stomach churns thanks to the utter carnage displayed on the screen. So much blood. So much suffering. Screams claw at Silver’s ears, resting flat yet still managing to capture EVERYTHING. They feel as if they should have blood trickling down their head; from their ears, eyes, even their mouth. Everything at risk of interacting with the sick sight in front of them. 

It isn’t until Silver feels a warm droplet fall from their chin that they realize they ARE bleeding from their mouth. Not even registering the pain— when had they bitten their tongue? —all they can feel is the taste... the warmth.... Sharp teeth stained a vibrant blue, unlike the scarlet streaked across the video, Silver’s chest heaves with labored breaths. Growing faster, more ragged, the longer Silver stands frozen in place. Feeling frozen in TIME. How long has this been playing? Surely it’s been hours by now... Maybe years. Lifetimes. Have they seen such destruction? Why does this sense of... emptiness— hopelessness, feel so familiar?

Not like what Silver had felt when they first woke-up by Hope’s Peak. Without memories. Without purpose. That had been frightening, but this... this is something MORE. This is an echo of a life forgotten. Of a far-off future, with almost no one left to fight for it... With no more suffering. Yet no more hope either. Nothing. Finally, peace. Finally a silence to drown out the screams. Finally- an ending. Or, it would have been, had Silver not still been there. Had they not traveled BACK. But now? Perhaps it didn’t even matter. Perhaps nothing ever does...

Silver had failed. 

And they don’t even know it.

Had Silver’s memories been intact, they would have known what despair was being fed within them. What fuel was being TWISTED into this overwhelming, scorching fire. As it is, they don’t know where the source is. Only that it is strong. Agonizing. Amazing. Unlike any emotion Silver has ever felt. Not even the strongest of joys, the brightest of fantasies, the ever-growing yearning fondness in their chest for the male beside them... could hold a candle to the euphoria now shooting through them. It’s invigorating, this feeling of- LIFE within them.

When had it started? Why hadn’t Silver felt it before? Why had they been so... blind to it? To what was in front of them. The blood. it’s so bright. So beautiful. Why isn’t it like Silver’s? Why are they different from those around them?  What else is different? What do they look like- inside? What does everyone else look like? When someone gets really, really, really close.

Wouldn’t it be fun to find out? Wouldn’t it be wonderfully, sickeningly, terribly FUN?

❝  But... Why would I want to leave?  ❞  Silver breathes, wondering when they had started to laugh. A blood-stained smile, hollow yet SINCERE, stretched across their muzzle. Eyes are wide, tears streaking down from them. Transfixed upon the screen. Laughing... They’re laughing. It’s such a nice sound. It mixes so well with the crying on the screen. Sounds almost like a song... Silver would dare-say, it’s becoming their favorite song.  ❝  Look at it—  ❞  Silver breathes, barely able to speak past the manic elation slipping past their lips. 

❝  Look at it.  ❞  Silver repeats, more fervently, as if there’s any chance Sonic isn’t.  ❝  It’s beautiful! It’s so beautiful!  ❞  A joyous cry. An anguished cry. 

Silver can’t tell if they’re laughing or crying any more.

Not that it matters.

It all feels the same...   「 ☆ 」 

[toxicpositvity]

D.

i met D some months ago, in july to be exact. he's friends w my roomate (im gonna call him like that). thanks of him we met

D was a grown man (30y), and he showed sum interest on me. ive always knew those "feelings" were: sex interest. but never let anything happen, i aint dat idiot

i wouldnt say he used to do bad things. he was a lender, only lent money. he maintained his reputation and his clients very well, was on his own business. but bc of that kind of job, he got into some problems w real bad people.

debts. he had tones of debts and all them highly expensive for my thirdworld mentality. so the solution he found to this shit was, in short terms, fakin his death

well not really

he was foreign, like me. he pretended dat he came back to his country w/o telling anyone, literally just disappeared from the life of every single person he knows here overnight.

everyone, except of roomate. they were really close

D stayed in our apartment for no more than two weeks. remember the night he arrived he just covered every single inch of window rooms has w paper nd curtains, mf thought he was ana frank

besides my roomate i dont have friends here, so i spend most of my free time at home... homing

me and D spend all that week he stayed here together. literally i used to came back from work and he was just appearin from nowhere like "i made dinner for both, u must be tired" w a plate full of his home country food, or leaving all the house cleaned like he really wanted to be an oppressed woman iM joKIN

he didnt have phone. he was so paranoid dat he literally threw it at the fuckin wall after all that shit he lived that night he moved w us. he had a Tv and really friki-cool stuff like old collectible motorcycle toys, a projector, weird watches. we both used to have dinner on his room while watching the worst channel existed, just talkin. once we fell asleep together

it was sunday nd i was at work when roomate texted. still remembering the tears on D's reddish eyes when i came back home that day and he told me lookin at my face that he (now) literally need leave the country

D ate the burger that roommate bought for him in completely silence, w his mouth full of fries and the ocean dropping down his cheeks. sited between me and him

i saw the fear and the sadness on his eyes the last time we spoke. felt his body shakin under my arms as he whispered to my ear "i got out of this before, i can do it twice. please take care of yourself, i promise i'll contact you again some day."

he gave me his three tiny plants that night, and told me i can't let them die.

next mornin i woke up and went straight to his room. there was his bed, his stuff, his smell; but of course, not him. the sky was black in that moment bc of the clouds, around 10am or sum, and it rained all day.

a part of me —while watching the flowerpots in front of the window, hearing the fat drops of rain hittin the glass— i thought the sky was crying

crying for me, crying 'cause of him. i don't really know. i hadn't the urge to cry, just remember ive felted really emotional that day

D told me he will came back to his home country, but roommate spilled some lies D told. and he didn't

last thing i knew about him was thanks to roommate. D called asking for a bit of money, told him he was on colombia (like 14hours away), on his way to panamá

that was around a month ago. roommate hasn't talked with him again, neither i.

i cant say i miss him. but i still keeping his plants, and (w/o gettin despaired neither dedicatin my whole life abt it) i will wait for a text

pic of the next day he left

[jiamiuxin]

to your eternity review (anime spoilers!)

i just finished season 2 and wow. just wow

i feel like my initial thoughts about it were "pleasantly surprised" because it took a turn i didn't expect it to. at first i thought it going to be like a collection of short stories about the human experience as fushi collects more vessels. i was really happy that there was an overall story instead. i lowkey had to let it cook but regardless i'd still enjoyed it that way

i greatly appreciate the anime built fushi from the bottom up. remembering when he was just joann the wolf at the beginning who couldn't speak and just wandered the world after march died is crazy comparing him to after the battle at renril

i really just have endless praise for this anime. not hypersexual, has action, emotional, good ensemble, unique story. the pacing is overall good too. i think it's one of the few anime i'd genuinely feel comfortable recommending to non-anime watchers; it's not too over-the-top in any way but i think it still retains the anime charm

if i had to be nitpicky i got frustrated with fushi a few times. fool me once shame on u fool me twice shame on me type kinda thing. wah wah wah "fushi is basically 5 years old" like yeah he's inexperienced like a 5 y/o in some aspects but he can articulate and learn beyond a 5 y/o. fushi did some bs later on in the story when it had been like either decades or centuries and i was like yeah yall silent on this now huh. but im overall pleased with how he is by the end of season 2. feels crazy to even try to compare him to the beginning

a little analysis/commentary

parts of the humanity fushi experienced:

emotions

i think he experienced grief, pain, and anxiety the most

followed by depression and pressure (despair)

but hand in hand with joy and hope

desire to protect

disappointment, betrayal, frustration

as of season 2, he is learning romantic love

lifestyle

eating at the dinner table with loved ones

friendship

parent-child (booze man and pioran)

child-parent (march) ((even tho she's his mama technically LMFAO))

siblings (march and parona, gugu)

advancement of human civilization

religion

politics

i think the aspect that had the biggest impact on me is how fushi questions "why?"

why do people act this way? why are we here? why do things happen the way they do? this leads me into thinking about how things aren't always black and white; perhaps kahaku could be good to explain this? as a viewer, i generally liked kahaku, but no doubt his nokker was really annoying and troublesome to deal with, making him a gray area "good and bad" character. same with bon and how he initially only wanted to use fushi to become king. but in the end, they redeemed themselves. i dont know, but i also find myself thinking about when it comes to applying morals irl, there are always exceptions--probably more exceptions than situations that do follow our rules. but when is it considered "enough is enough"? is it right for some people to take a beating just so someone else can have character development?

rest of my thoughts (jumbled)

fushi kinda reminded me of jesus. in that he was kinda there to "save" or protect everyone and how he was immortal [and on the third day jesus rose again]

the church of bennett was eye twitch for me bc of the hypocrisy and it was a lil too real to irl bc even tho it wasn't tho it was an obvious ploy it wasnt an in ur face type thing. like it wasn't a major plot thing but it j mirrored irl too well LOL

i felt really bad for arctic king (nameless boy) in the beginning bc ik damn well if it was me i'd go insane after 5 years of being alone--or maybe he was lowkey mentally ill? optimism or denial? both?

the reunion was really heartwarming but when it's first revealed that the spirits follow fushi i couldn't help but wonder what the others who decided to move on thought of fushi

i hate that bitch hayase

the time jumps were kinda crazy but i was still there for it; besides someone said for an immortal being like fushi a century is nothing

every time the beholder spoke i was like o g a t a (golden kamuy)

[letarasstuff]

The Quiet after a Storm

(A/N): Hello, this is plays in the same settings as the previous story I wrote including Moon Knight, but you don't need to read it. The only important information you need from it, is that the fem!reader is a teenager and a relative to Marc and lives permanently with them and Layla

(A/N) 2: Reupload bc after 24 hours it still wasn't showing up in the tags

Summary: Dealing with feelings is difficult. Dealing with feelings as a teenager is even more difficult. But Marc and Steven are equipped to help.

Warnings: description of overwhelming feelings, crying breakdown because of those, fluff to balance out the sad in hurt/comfort style

Wordcount: 1.4k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________

“How do you deal with it?” Confused Steven looks up from his book. “Wha’? Wha’ are you talking about, love?” (Y/N) makes a big gesture, trying to get her point across. “The- feelings? How do you deal with them?” Sensing that this will be a conversation that needs his full attention, he closes the book and puts his reading glasses aside.

“Love, did something happen we need to be informed about?” (Y/N) shakes her head, but hesitates a moment before answering.

“No- Yes? I don’t know. I- It’s just… I get all of these emotions inside of me and I try to pick one up and decide what it is and what purpose it is serving me, but I come up with nothing? And then I think that I may be just hungry or tired or exhausted by all the school work and meeting people and maybe it’s just my social battery running low. But then I have eaten, relaxed, a few nights of good sleep and did my self care routine and I still feel like I can’t hold a thought for longer than two seconds? And the harder I grasp at those feelings the more they are slipping through my fingers, it’s like trying to catch sand when you are in the water at the beach. Nothing makes sense, and then there is an occasional memory and I also try to make sense of that one and everything is just a big giant mess.” She throws her hands up in despair, after plopping down on the sofa.

“Am I a bad person to feel like this? I feel like I don’t have a reason to have all of my feelings out of control like this. Am I faking how I feel? Am I just doing all of this for attention? Why is being human such a big mess? I’m a bad person, am I, Steven?”

At the end she is rambling, her monologue only stopping for the fraction of a second to get some air. After (Y/N) is finished, Steven takes a seat beside her. He slings an arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his side. “This really sounds like a giant mess. Have you considered that you may need to cry?” He asks her tentatively. In the six months the teenager is living with them, the Brit hasn’t seen her cry once. Neither has Marc.

Not that this is an important point, never seeing a person cry, but it’s something interesting to keep in mind the two of them decided once.

Quickly (Y/N) frees herself out of the hug after hearing Steven’s suggestion. “Did you seriously ask me to cry? And then what, everything is magically better?” She throws him an incredulous look, as if he told her to grow a second head to solve the problem at her hand. But this doesn’t phase him.

“Yes, I did. There are different articles and papers about how crying can be beneficial to you. And I mean, we all cry. Some more than others, but there is no shame to that. It just can be helpful. For me, it is. And I know for a fact that the same counts for Marc and Layla. It’s just a natural response as a human being to messes in life. I don’t wanna sound mean, but your life has been a mess for some time and you have now the time to process it. So of course there are feelings that are unresolved. It’s only logical. Just as there have to be feelings you are not familiar with yet, because you had to deal with situations you weren’t in before. Maybe a good cry can help you. If not, we can look for other solutions, such as you talking to Marc or Layla. Or talking to a therapist, if you want to.”

The teen still looks unconvinced. “You do know that crying is a sign of weakness? You make other people know that you are overwhelmed by your feelings and that you are unable to deal with them. How can this be beneficial, being vulnerable like that?”

Steven’s face softens at that admission. He pulls her back into the embrace, drawing light patterns on her back. “Oh no, Love. There is no such thing as weakness, especially when you cry. It’s quite the opposite. Opening yourself up to another person like that, it’s taking courage. If you feel the need, just let it out. Nothing to judge there. It’s a good and healthy way to express yourself. But like I said, if this is not the right thing for you, we can look for something different. Like writing, drawing, even run-” A loud sob cuts him off.

(Y/N)’s body is shaking, sobs wracking through it, desperately making their way up to finally escape. Who knows how long she had been holding them in, shoving them down deeper and deeper to make sure they stayed there. Tears are running down her face like it’s a competition of which one makes their way down first. It looks like a never ending race with no winner ever being appointed.

The Brit is holding her even tighter, rocking their bodies back and forth, whispering soothing words into her ear. “You are safe with us, let it all out. We’ll protect you for as long as you want us to. You don’t need to worry about that anymore. Let it out, give your feelings the space they need to be expressed.”

If you ask her, (Y/N) wouldn't be able to assign a time on how long they sat there like that, her crying and him talking and guiding her through it. It could have been minutes, hours, days, she really doesn’t have any clue. If you ask Steven, he would tell you that it doesn’t matter. Feelings are there to be felt and you need to feel them for as long as it’s needed.

The next thing (Y/N) clearly remembers is her waking up on the couch, her head in his lap with the TV playing in the background. “Hello there, Bean. You feelin’ better?” Marc asks her, his hand is running up and down her shoulder in a soothing manner. The teenager takes a bit to think about the question, trying to figure out the answer. “Actually, I do. Everything is so- so clear now? Like, it’s like the air has cleared after a storm with thunder and heavy rain. It is- it is calmer now.” Marc smiles at that. “That’s all I’m asking for. Steven is really good at making sense of how we feel, even before we know it ourselves.”

This elicits a laugh from her, a sound he learned to miss over the last few weeks. Seeing that smile on her face makes the pain he felt while watching her cry worth it.

(Y/N) Sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes. As if he read her thoughts, Marc hands her a glass of water that's already placed on the coffee table. He must have gotten up while she was napping.

“Ok, I thought about some nice afternoon activities. We can go out with Layla, go to the movies and get a nice dinner afterwards. Or we stay here, have a movie marathon and order take out. I already texted Layla and she is fine with either option, so the decision is all yours.” Weighing the options, (Y/N) sways her head from one side to another.

“I have to admit that a movie marathon and take out sound better than putting on outside clothes, actually going outside and talking to strangers.” Another soft smile graces her face after making her decision, which makes Marc smile in return.

He nods. “Good, I’ll text Layla, she’ll pick up some snacks and stuff, ok?” (Y/N) nods again, putting her head on his shoulder.

Not even half an hour later Layla opens the door, scouting their apartment only to find her favorite people to cuddle on the couch, Marc snoring loud and (Y/N) drooling onto his shirt.

It’s a picture that finds its home next to the others from day trips and beautiful moments on the fridge.

If you came so far, please consider leaving a comment or a reblog. It's just like watering your plants, it helps us thrive as writers

Taglist: 

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @venomsvl @jswessie187 @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27

Marvel:

@jonathanbyersgf