#he stops and listens and is also in his feelings but by the end of the song he’s almost laugh crying

[murdrdocs]

every passing moment

description. sitting in the front seat of patrick zweig’s car, it’s nearly impossible to pretend like you don’t want him. it's impossible to pretend you didn't come for this.

includes. SMUT 18+, car sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected p n v, lots of denial from reader, some manhandling, sort of mean patrick, also mean reader, hooking up w a friends ex (but consensually!), takes place in the 2000s

wc. 3.6k+

a/n: cannot be bothered to edit sawrryy. based on a req i got forever ago. art creds unknown. title from so into you by tamia

“You can stop pretending.” 

You pause your insistent flipping through radio stations to glare in Patrick’s direction. His eyes are straight ahead, staring at the red streetlight through the rain still pattering down onto the windshield. You narrow your eyes in distaste, trying not to notice the way the light illuminates the shape of his face. 

“Pretending?” 

Patrick shrugs, glancing at you for a moment before the light is green and he’s facing the road again. 

“Yeah. Pretending that you’re not into me.” He says it with such assurance as if his statement is a fact of matter and not just an arrogant assumption. 

You scoff and decide on a station playing the final bits of a Katy Perry song. Maybe you would have been able to distinguish the song if it weren’t for the volume of the blood pumping through your body. You’ve been attempting to ignore it the entire time, ever since you and Patrick dropped Art off at a friend's place.

But there was something about being alone with Patrick and sitting in the front of his car. It affects you. When you were sitting in the back of the car and looking out of the window, you weren’t focused on anything other than how long it would take to get back to your dorm. Patrick and Art were as they usually were—Patrick and Art, extensions of the other. They joked, laughed, and included you for a bit before Patrick wrongfully proclaimed that you were asleep. You were in your world and they were in theirs. But now you’re part of Patrick’s world, forced to listen to him scoff at the song playing and click to another station. Forced to kick away an empty Monster can that rolls back and hits the toe of your sneakers. Forced to smell his cologne, previously too strong but now worn off to a more pleasant intensity, carry towards your nose with the cold AC. 

Before, you were able to pretend that you didn’t want Patrick. Now, you’re right next to him, bumping your elbow with his as they both rest on the center console. Mumbling the same lyrics—although Patrick gets the words slightly wrong—to the same song. There is a certain harmony that exists in this space, shining a light on your true desires, the ones you pushed down with eye rolls and groans whenever Art insinuated that you had feelings for his best friend. The desires you pushed away even whenever Tashi exclaimed that what she and Patrick had was nothing but a thing that they had, and you were free to swoop in if you pleased. 

Now, sitting in the front seat of Patrick Zweig’s car, it’s nearly impossible to pretend like you don’t want him. It’s impossible to pretend like you didn’t come dressed for this. 

Your meticulously crafted outfit screams in your face. Your best pair of jeans, the ones that hugged your ass just right and had gotten you laid twice this semester already. A tiny enough top to warrant attention without being obvious that that’s what you wanted—it ended right above your navel and was thin enough for your tits, unrestrained by a bra, to press against the fabric. In certain lighting, like the lighting coming from the stoplight, for example, you could see your nipples poking through. 

When you glance over at Patrick again, you catch him glancing down at your tits. You scoff like it’s not what you wanted, but you cross your arms under your bust and enhance the pair anyway. 

The car ride is going fine. Patrick’s chosen station plays hit after hit to fill the silence as he steadily heads toward your dorm. You’re only a few minutes away, no more than 7 if the stoplights weren’t taking too long, and then Patrick pulls into a gas station. 

You look over at him, your eyes squinted and your eyebrows furrowed. 

“What’re you doing?” 

He puts the car in park next to a pump. “Getting gas,” he tells you factually as if you’re the outrageous one. 

He closes the door before you can argue with him but you reach over and press the button to roll down the window before the battery completely turns off. 

“My dorm is literally right down the street. You couldn’t wait?” You hiss at him through the open window, watching him insert his card and put his PIN in. Unsurprisingly, his PIN is his birth year. 

“It’s easier this way,” he takes his card out of the reader and opens the tank. “Otherwise I would’ve had to double back. Too much work. Waste of gas.” 

You huff and fall back into your seat, just a tad bit upset that Patrick would’ve had the perfect view of your tits if he looked away from the dirtied gas pump for just a second. 

You sit for a moment, tapping your finger against the plastic door handle. You pull a stick of gum out of your purse. 

“Pass me one,” Patrick demands, doesn’t ask. 

You make a point of smacking on your piece as you tell him, “It’s the last one.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls the corner of his lips into his cheek and glances back at the screen steadily counting up. 

He looks back at you. His eyes scan your frame and you can’t help but feel a little satisfied. 

“You look really pretty right now.” He tells you. His compliment should flatter you, and it mostly does, but he gave you those eyes. The ones you’ve seen him throw at multiple women, hoping it would get him what he wants. 

You’re sure that you and him currently share the same wants, but you want him to be a little shameless about it. For the sake of your pride, you can’t give it away this easily. So you retort. 

“Oh my God, Patrick. Fuck off!” Petulantly, you cross your arms over your chest and focus your attention on the mostly empty building in front of you. 

“I’m serious.” And he sounds serious. He sounds earnest. It’s the softest you’ve ever heard Patrick speak and you don’t know if he’s doing it to get in your pants, or if he has no ulterior motives. 

You don’t know which one you prefer more. 

You don’t know how to respond. Silence seems to be the best answer for you. 

It’s not satisfactory for Patrick. “This is usually the part where you’ll accept my compliment. Maybe give one back.”

“That would be the part if I were another one of your conquests. Which I’m not.”

“You wouldn’t be another one of my conquests.”

“You tell everyone that? Or just girls that you think ‘look really pretty’.”

“Alright, whatever. Will thinking that you’re another one of my conquests help you? Would it take some pressure away from all of this?” He gestures wildly between the two of you. The tank reaches its limit behind him and he places the nozzle back in its home. 

He’s back in the car with the engine turned on and his seatbelt on when you respond. 

“It doesn’t matter, Patrick. Because I’m not sleeping with you.”

He laughs. The sound is irritating. It makes your nostrils flare and your skin burn. 

“What’s funny? I didn’t think someone finally not wanting you would be so entertaining.”

“Oh, people don’t want me all the time. You’re just not one of them.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look,” he puts the car into drive and starts off towards your dorm. “I know you wanna sleep with me. It’s fine if you don’t admit it to me, maybe even yourself, but it’s obvious. You’re just too egotistical. You think you’re superior to me because—what? You chose a ‘real job’ over tennis? That doesn’t make you superior, it makes you scared. And that’s okay. You’re scared of your own potential and you’re scared of how bad you want me. That’s fine,” he spits your name out with a natural ease that used to flatter you. Now it pisses you off. “Just don’t walk around like that’s not the truth.” 

You have the urge to tell him to pull the car over. You have the urge to spew out every nasty insult you’ve ever thought about him, some of them even Tashi’s own t words that she’d shared with you after the breakup. But you’re only a block away from your dorm and you refuse to waste your energy on Patrick. That and you know if you try, your voice will crack and you’ll embarrass yourself. 

Instead, you turn the radio up and sit with your anger until Patrick pulls up to your dorm. 

Your seatbelt clicks to free you, the door is unlocked, opened, and closed, and you’re turned to face the entrance when the sound of the window unrolling stops you. 

“Call me when you’re done lying to yourself.”

He doesn’t leave until you’re inside the building. 

Even then, he isn’t gone for long. 

You’re standing in front of the elevator, waiting for the familiar ding! so you can crawl upstairs to your room, call Tashi, and tell her about this horrible night. 

But you knew you wouldn’t be satisfied. You knew the night couldn’t end like this. 

So just when the elevator reaches you and opens its doors, you have your phone pressed to your ear and Patrick’s number ringing. 

He picks up on the second ring and he just laughs. Big and boisterous like you’ve just told the funniest joke in the world. 

You huff, considering hanging up and going upstairs. But you shift your stance and the seam of your jeans presses right into the center of your cunt and you know you couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

“Don’t be an ass. Just come back.” 

When you walk out the door, he’s back in the same spot. 

The car door is opened, the yellow light turning on and illuminating Patrick’s sick fucking smirk, and you don’t say anything as you sit in the passenger seat. You don’t bother clicking your seatbelt on. 

“Why don’t we just go upstairs?” he suggests. 

“I’m not checking you in.” I don’t want proof of this ever happening, is what you don’t say to him. Even without the fine print being verbalized, Patrick knows what you mean. 

He hums, a sound that infuriates you just as much as his laugh, but then he puts the car into gear and starts off towards wherever he’s taking you. 

You end up in the parking lot behind one of the science buildings. It’s empty, completely desolate besides a half-drunken bottle of blue Gatorade and a campus security pole that shines a deep blue. The light isn’t bright enough to penetrate the foggy windows of Patrick’s Honda, but the streetlights that keep the parking lot lit are. 

The white light sits along Patrick’s cheekbones. It’s flat against the straight line of his nose. It’s barely there, right along his prominent cupid bow. 

You can’t help but sit and admire his face. You can’t help but admire the way sweat has started to coat his hairline, threatening to drip down over his thick eyebrows and fall onto his cheek. You can feel your own sweat coming through your pores, but you can’t feel that more than you can feel Patrick’s fingers fucking up into you, two thick digits plunging into your walls over and over again. 

You can’t believe you’re actually doing it, following up on the encouragement from both Tashi and Art. You’re finally giving in to all of those dreams that you pushed out of your mind as soon as you could, or those brief pictures of Patrick’s face in your head whenever you were trying to picture your latest celebrity crush instead. 

Now, Patrick is all you see. 

When you’re verbally asking him to use his mouth on you, you only see Patrick’s smirk. It’s real and raw and right in front of you. And you can’t stop staring. 

Even when he contorts his large body to bring his face right between your legs, and you can only really see from the tip of his nose up, you don’t stop staring. When the pleasure mounts and climbs up your spine, you don’t stop staring, even when your eyes beg to flutter closed just to focus on the pleasure. 

You’re zoned out and you know it. You’re staring at Patrick’s eyes, even when he’s watching your cunt and you can only see his eyelids. Your own eyes have glazed over from refusing to blink, and when you do blink—an action that’s pulled from you when Patrick flicks his tongue over your clit just right—a twin set of tears glide down your cheeks. 

It’s then that Patrick decides to look at you again and you can feel his smile. 

Thinner than usual and more pursed as it’s the position of his lips, but the expression is pressed right up against you and you can feel it so intimately. It’s really a shame that the thing you hate most is the thing that gets you right to the edge. 

Patrick baring his teeth and gently nipping on your clit as he twists his fingers inside of you is the thing that makes you throw your hand out to grip the back of the passenger seat, your back arching as your mouth throws out moans that you don’t mean to be as loud as they are. 

And Patrick just helps you ride through it. Even when you hook your legs around his head and twist your fingers into his hair, keeping his face dangerously close to your cunt, he helps you out. He’s more generous than you would’ve thought, and you don’t want to think about how many orgasms Patrick Zweig would be willing to give you before asking for one of his own. So you don’t. 

Instead, you think about the way you’re grinding your cunt against Patrick’s face. As soon as you realize you’re doing it, you stop. You unhook your legs and let his hair go and when he comes up for air, you refuse to meet his eye. 

After all of that staring, you suddenly are completely uninterested in Patrick’s blue eyes, including the little speck of blood-orange he has in them. 

Patrick snickers and with him being this close to you, you can smell yourself on his breath. Why does that make you want to kiss him more?

“Come on. After I just made you cum you won’t even look at me?”

You reach above you to click the car light on and immediate regret finds you. Because now that there’s a substantial amount of light in the car, you can see the way Patrick’s clean-shaven chin, plump lips, and perky nose shine. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where all of the shimmer has come from, especially not when the evidence is still smeared all over your pussy and inner thighs. 

You dart your eyes to the side, looking at Patrick’s floor in search of the firetruck red pair of panties you were wearing. You look, and look, pushing away bottles and plastic bags and a pair of sneakers, and when you don’t find them, you huff and try to reach around Patrick to grab your jeans that have landed on the center console. 

He bends out of the way, letting you grab the jeans, waiting for your next move. 

“You can take me back to my dorm now.”

He hesitates. He doesn’t say anything. And then, “Don’t you want me to fuck you?” he asks it as if he knows the answer. 

You know the answer. Still, you look at him, feigning unimpressed with your jeans hanging limply in your hands. You should put them back on. You’ve got what you came here for, a really good orgasm, and now it’s time you start working on the paper you’ve been putting off. A paper you absolutely despised. A paper that you would do anything to escape, or at least put off a bit. 

Anything including letting Patrick Zweig fuck you. 

Yeah, that’s not the only reason why you let Patrick fuck you. You’ve wanted him for a while and you’ve been fairly obvious about it. The classic childhood approach to your attraction wasn’t fooling anyone. Masking your attraction with annoyance didn’t do anything but make you want him more. 

In the end, it wasn’t effective, as it still brought you here:

On your hands and knees in the back of Patrick’s car, letting him defile you from the back, remaining completely uncaring of the heat and the volume of your moans. 

You’ll admit, this isn’t how you imagined fucking Patrick. You imagined it being somewhere more appropriate, for starters. In a bed or on a couch perhaps. But everything else about it, you’ve imagined. 

The way he fucks you, rough and without abandon, is how you imagined it. The way he just takes and takes is how you imagined it. Late at night when you would slip your hands between your thighs, hoping to provide even a bit of reprieve, you imagined it like this. 

You imagined his grunts right in your ear. You imagined the feeling of his balls slapping against your cunt. You imagined the feeling of his hands on your hips. But now you don’t have to imagine, it’s all real. 

“Good?” Patrick asks from behind you. 

Your lips move on their own accord. “‘s so good. Just like I imagined.” 

You regret the admission as soon as it’s in the stiff air. You regret even thinking about it whenever Patrick snickers, curt and confident. 

“Just like you imagined, huh? Knew you—fuck, you feel good—I knew you wanted me.” 

His words are redundant at this point. It’s obvious that you’ve wanted Patrick the entire time. Now, he just wants to rub it in your face. He’s treating you like a pet, a big hand on the back of your head and rubbing your face in the mess you’ve made. Quite literally, as he palms the back of your head and pushes your face down into the seat at one point, smearing your nose in the sweat and arousal left over from your first orgasm. 

But he’s not reprimanding you. He’s encouraging you. 

He’s hooking a hand over your shoulder and pulling you back onto each of his thrusts. He’s hunching over your body as best as he can in the tight space and resting his head against your spine. 

When you feel a glob of drool meets the center of your back, it suddenly occurs to you that Patrick has wanted this as much as you have. He’s been chasing after you the entire time, apparently, if you could trust the words of Art and Tashi. 

You tune in, allowing yourself to hear him, to be with him in this brief moment. You’re made aware of his groans, how deep and throaty they are, how sincere they are. You notice how the drag of his cock out of you is slower than the push back in. It’s almost as if he’s savoring the time that he’s in you, prolonging it as long as possible. Yet, he slides out nearly all the way, only stopping when his mushroom tip is settled within you, your cunt clasped around it like a vice. And then he glides back in, swift and gentle. 

Over and over again. And no matter how much he’s trying to prolong it, no matter how much he’s trying to prevent the inevitable, it approaches steadily. You’re close before you notice it, hands gripping the door handle and the leather seats. 

You don’t warn him. If you feared he was going to stop or change something, maybe you would have told him that you were close. But Patrick isn’t one to change something that’s working well so you really had nothing to worry about. 

Soon enough, when your orgasm is at its peak and you’re letting noise after noise spill past your lips, Patrick joins you. His forehead resting against your shoulder, his hips sloppily knocking into yours. 

It’s harmonious. Possibly the most (willingly) in tune you and Patrick Zweig have ever been. Likely the most willingly in tune the two of you will ever be. 

When it’s over, it’s over. There’s no more harmony. You nudge yourself back, getting Patrick off of you. You abandon the search for your panties and just settle with slipping your jeans back on, doing the same for your bra and shirt. You climb into the front seat, leaving Patrick in the back to catch his breath and redress. 

He leaves the car to walk around to the driver's side and you use that one moment where he isn’t there to ask yourself what the fuck?

The drive back is silent. No music, no conversation, just the sound of rubber against asphalt. Patrick asks you one thing. 

“Do you wanna go anywhere else?”

“I’m fine.”

And then you’re back at your dorm. You take a moment, mulling over your possibilities. You could have Patrick park in a visitor's spot, come up to your dorm, and spend time with you. You could resort back to your usual banter, maybe throw in an insult that doesn’t have to do with the way he defiled you just a few minutes ago (because there really isn’t anything negative you could say about that). 

Instead, you open the door and step out. 

“Thanks,” is all you tell him. 

When you get upstairs, you consider the possibility of telling Tashi or Art. Instead, you take a shower and go to sleep. 

[randomhealer]

Jiaoqiu ―୨୧⋆ ˚

Warnings: no pronouns used, female anatomy name used (pussy only), cum description, creampie, porn with no plot, not reviewed, pre character, Written on a very bad keyboard.

A/n: I forgot this account existed/j, but seriously I'm testing new things in the nsfw part...I'm also thinking about opening the message box...

You sigh tiredly, lying on your stomach and feeling your hole sore and raw, the feeling of the remnants of the love sessions on your body causing you slight discomfort, Drool dries in the corner of your mouth, tears dry in the corners of your beautiful eyes and the feeling of dry sperm all over your thighs, ass and pussy.

But all this discomfort of dirt is ignored by the real pain in your body, the pain throbbing between your legs as you feel the sensitivity even in the cold in the shared room together with the pain of the bites and bruises that appear on your neck and shoulders, your knees threatening to give way and collapsing on the bed while you enjoy your minutes of rest.

Jiaoqiu is between your legs looking completely fine unlike you, he spreads your wet folds with a finger, absorbed in watching the cum from your third round dripping from your hole abused, He smiles with a satisfied smile as if he has created a new dish with good healing qualities, licking his lips lightly as he denies the pleasure of sticking his nose between your pussy and eating you as you are, It doesn't matter if you are filled with his sperm or not he would eat you with pleasure, if you were asked what his favorite dish was he would casually say that you are his favorite food.

But at the moment Jiaoqiu still has a lot to give you from his balls. Breaking your moment of peace, he positions himself on top of you again, resting his chest on your back as he places a loving kiss on your shoulders, his ears lightly tickling your cheeks as he murmurs sweetly "you're doing so good for me my little fox…just one more."

You mumble incomprehensible things, your throat hurting as you try to say something along with your brain too melted to even hear what he's saying to you.

He laughs lightly in a muffled sound against your shoulder as he listens to your murmurs. You don't hear any other sounds coming from him other than feeling the sensation of the head of his cock sliding between your folds and stopping at your hole before sliding the head and length in. of him entering you easily with a loud wet noise, he sighs satisfied with the feeling of being able to enter you so easily, it's as if he has molded you completely to his cock while you just moan in protest.

It doesn't take long before he starts moving, leaving you a crying mess by the end of the night. But don't worry... you know that he will take good care of you and spoil you with the most varied menu possible made exclusively for you.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Summary: Cast Away AU. What if Tara was with someone when you returned

Warnings: angst but happy ending

WC: 2.8k

Author’s Note: requested by @blackwidowifey Hope you like it dude. Sorry for any mistakes

The flight home, your mom refused to let you out of your sight. To be home, back in your that had not changed had felt so surreal. A part of you was scared, scared that you'd wake from this dream and be back on that island. If that were to happen you weren't so sure you'd survive.

"You don't need anything sweetheart?" Your dad's voice brought you back to the present, you were still standing in front of the door of your room.

"No, I'm okay dad. Thank you."

Your dad couldn't begin to imagine what you went through for the past three years. Almost four. He knew you had changed. Not just physically but mentally as well. To see you like this. So confused, lost. It hurt him. He wanted to help you. But he just didn't know how.

You were told by your sister that things had changed quite a bit. From your friends and Tara no longer living in Woodsboro. To your family not being in contact with Tara for the past year.

"Riley?" You had entered your sisters room, who didn't even live here anymore. Another thing you missed that you were now an aunt. She had gotten married two months ago. To the man she had loved for so long.

And you missed it.

"Yeah? Everything okay?" Riley had never moved so fast to get home the moment her mom called to inform her that you had been found. Almost four years thinking her little sister was dead. The sob she had let out had alarmed her husband. Her husband. The man that you met, the man that held her when the cops told the family that your flight had crashed and there were no traces of the plane. The man that held her when the search party gave up after just two months of searching. The man that kept her going after your funeral.

The wedding she had, had been small. She had no bridesmaids, that spot had been reserved for you. You were her little sister but also her best friend.

"What made you stop talking to the Tara and the others?" It had only been a day since you returned back home. You were still extremely weak, bruised a little too easily, still had some sun burns but with the luxury of some aloe. Those were healing a lot faster.

"They moved a year after the search party was called off. They tried to stay here but it had been hard for them. Tara took your dea-disappearance hard. She wasn't the same. She was different, depressed, in denial. Sam moved her to New York permanently so she could heal and move on. After a year of them being there. Our connection kinda stopped. I didn't reach out and they didn't either."

You listened to everything she was saying. Almost four years of being gone. You knew that if you made it and came back. Things would be different. People would have moved on.

"Can I..can I see your phone." Riley handed you her phone. You opened instagram with one person in mind. Typing in her username. She hadn't posted in a quite a bit. But what she had were just some nature shots. So you moved on to the next person. Mindy. The first three picture being of the friend group with new faces. A average height man had his arm around Tara. A smile on her face as she smiled at the camera.

Your vision blurred with tears. The same feeling of loss grew. Tara, had have moved on. And you couldn't be upset about that. You had no right to be upset. Tara could wait forever.

She didn't need you anymore.

*

You now hated the smell of fish and coconut. You vowed on that island that if you ever got off it you would never touch fish or coconuts ever again. After your dad said he had a few things he had to do. You jumped at the opportunity to get out of the house. It had only been four days since you were back home. The past four days you had spent them in the house resting.

When he drove to the cemetery you knew what he was doing. Seeing your own tombstone was something you never really thought of. Seeing the rock was bone chilling.

Going to the store after that was the distraction you needed. Helping your dad with the grocery shopping, but the more you moved around the more tired you were starting to feel, you tried to ignore it. You went three and a half years moving around barefoot and half nude. A little walking around a store shouldn't bother you. Your dad saw that you were getting tired and was quick to gather the groceries.

*

Meeting your niece was as tear filled as could be. The guilt of missing everything, you and your sister had always talked about being there for one another. You knew it was out of your control. But you could have tried to leave the island a whole lot sooner than you did. Granted it did take you awhile to understand how the changes in the seasons affected the waves.

"Are you ready?" Your dad asked, he was already dressed in a business suit. You had been for a while the one to take over your dad's business when he retired. The original plan was to finish college and then take over. But with everything that happened you didn't know where to stand. You weren't sure if that was still the plan. Six days since being back home and you still felt so, lost.

"Do I have to go?" You were in a suit as well. Matching the one your dad had.

Your dad sighed softly going into your room to stand behind you. You were looking at yourself in the mirror. You were healing nicely and quickly. Your cheeks filling in with all the food your mom had cooked. No longer looking hollow. He couldn't imagine how hungry you had been.

"It's up to you buddy. If you're comfortable enough. We could go or we can stay here and watch some Harry Potter. You know they made a game about Hogwarts."

"Really?"

He chuckled at the excitement in your eyes. He will always see you as his little girl. The amount of times he cried alone in your room, holding the stuff Curious George bear that you had refused to throw away. He reached over and fixed your crooked tie.

He could ditch the business party. He was boss after all. What he says goes.

"You know what let's go to the store buy a ps5 and we will play the game together."

*

Being back home after a year of being gone was a bit rough. Being back for thanksgiving break to be with her mother. One thing she had yet to do was something that she hadn't done in a whole year.

"Hey you okay?" The feeling of heavy hairy arm being wrapped around her shoulder. Pulling her attention away from the direction of your house. She hadn't spoken to your family in a year. A part of her felt guilty for stopping. But her boyfriend who was friend at first, had said it would be for the best. He had said she'd never move on if she never did. And in a moment of weakness, she stopped.

"Yea Frankie I'm fine. I have to go somewhere. I'll be right back okay?" With quick kiss she left her house before he could say anything.

It had been a year since she last saw your tombstone.

*

Parking her car, and walking the rest of the way. Only for her body to freeze in place. Your tombstone was gone. The patch of dirt was still fresh. The flowers she had dropped. The same sinking feeling of losing you came back.

"Excuse me where's the tombstone that was here." The gardener who was taking out over grown weeds stopped what he was doing to look at the brunette.

"Uh I heard from one of the workers. They were moving and took their daughter with them. I'm sorry miss that's all I know."

Moving? She picked up the flowers and rushed to her car. She needed to get to your parents house. The drive there was fast. She may have ran a stop sign or two. Yes, she may have started dating now. Mindy had pushed her to say yes to Frankie. She knew Mindy wanted what was best for her. And she won't deny that she did have fun with Frankie. He was sweet, a bit of a douche but sweet nevertheless.

Her car screeched at the sudden break. The 'for sale' sign was front and present.

Why would they move?

*

Being in a new house was nice. There was a big pool and hug backyard. A week since you been rescued. Your new room was much bigger than the one you had before. You had been building the courage to call Tara. When you finally did call the call never went through meaning this number was no longer in service.

You didn't know how else to reach her. Just tell them you were okay. That you were alive. But the more you thought about it. Remembering the picture you saw, they looked so happy. Did you really want to crash back into their lives, by all off sudden coming back from the dead.

"Honey, I have to go to work. You okay-Can I go with you?" You asked before your dad could finish his sentence. With a smile he nodded. Not caring that you were dressed casually. He was just excited to see you back in the office with him. He remembers clearly how you used always follow him around the office. Remembering how his little girl always sat on his chair. You used to be so small, now you were taller than him.

Curse his own tall genes.

*

Being back in the office had been as overwhelming as you had expected. Everyone greeting you, everyone looking at you like they've seen a ghost. It was all so overwhelming. But what really had you overwhelmed, had you feeling like you couldn't breath was when you saw the familiar brunette. She had looked as beautiful as the last time you saw her. She was breathtaking, she looked more mature.

Without really thinking about it your feet moved on their own accord. Halting, when a man took her hand. You heart breaking no matter how much she wish it didn't at the sight of her smile. A smile directed at someone else.

~

Tara was back in the building after a year of not setting foot in it. Being back her felt odd. But Frankie had an interview here. And he wanted her to come with. When she left what was once your house. She didn't know what to do. She tried calling your mom, your dad, your sister but none of them answered their phones. So she hoped that being back in your father's building. She'd run into him. Ask him why he took down your tombstone.

She felt Frankie take her hand. A small smile she towards him before looking away. She needed to find your dad. She looked around the lobby only for eyes to snap back to where she saw…you? Expect it couldn’t be. The person she could have sworn was you was walking away now.

“Tara? Tara where are you going?”

Ignoring his voice as she basically ran to where you once stood. It couldn’t be you. You were..dead. Gone. Watching the back of this person grow closer as they both turned into a less crowded hall way.

Her hand reaching forward to grab this persons arm. The moment this person turned around it had felt like all the air in her lungs had been punched out of her body. Her eyes refusing to believe who was standing in front of her. Those y/ec eyes that she had missed so badly. You were as beautiful as the day she last saw you at that airport. Those eyes that were now filled with tears.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted nothing more than to pull her into a tight hug. Just like you had imagined. But now you weren’t sure if you could. You didn’t know your place in her life anymore. You didn’t have to say anything at the end. She had basically thrown herself at you. Her arm wrapping around your neck as she hugged you tightly. Her cries being muffled as she cried into your neck.

You lived in the moment. Forgetting the man she was with as you hugged her back just as tight. Even if this would be for the last time.

“You’re alive. When-when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?” She pulled away to look up at you. You looked different, skinner.

“Last week. I uh was on deserted island. Been there for the past few years. I-I tried calling. Your number wasn’t the same.” You reluctantly pulled away. When you saw from behind Tara that same man walking towards you and Tara.

Tara was still trying wrap her mind around what was happening. Feeling like this was all a dream. The way you looked lost and heartbroken made her want to just cry and pull you into another hug. To hug you. Kiss you. Her hands refused to completely let you go. She was confused on why you were letting go. Her hold on your hands was tight.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. If I would known I-Everything okay here babe?”

The confusion was no longer there. Now she knew why. The you looked away, this time completely letting her go. She knew exactly what you were thinking. That she didn’t love you anymore, which completely wasn’t the case. Her own eyes filled with tears. The guilt she had growing. Ever since agreeing to going out with Frankie it had felt like she was being unfaithful. She knew it wasn’t cause at the time she didn’t know you were still alive.

Seeing the hurt and heart broken look on your face (that you were trying to hide) brought that guilt back in bigger than before. Your eyes finally hers. And she saw the acceptance, the forced smile. The tears you were trying to blink away.

“It’s okay Tara. It’s okay.” It was all you could say. Hoping your voice didn’t give away that you wanted nothing more than to cry. With a small nod. You dug into your pocket. Taking out the pocket watch. The watch you had refused to go anywhere with out. You turned around and walked away.

She watched you walk away before looking down at the scratched up pocket watch. Opening the watch. Seeing the familiar picture. Except now it was faded. The picture becoming blurry. All the memories flashing in her head. The love she had for you was still there. Still here. Had grown more and more even when she thought you were dead. She still loved you.

You. It always had been you.

No one else.

“Tara?”

Her eyes looked back at Frankie. “I’m sorry Frankie. I can’t do this.” It was all she said before she ran to catch up to you. She was not going to let you go. Not bothering to look back as she tried to find in the crowd that had quickly filled the lobby. She knew it was the lunch hour, she needed to find you.

She was quick to step on top of the receptionist desk. Ignoring her commands to get down. She scanned the room seeing your figure getting closer to the front doors.

“Y/N WAIT!!” She didn’t care that the voice echoed through out the big room. It grabbed your attention along with everyone else in the room. She jumped down the desk and the crowd quickly parted. You were on the other side. Eyes red from trying to hold in your tears. Quick to get to your side. Stopping directly in front of you.

“I love you. Only you. No one else.”

“But you looked hap-I could never be happy without you. I don’t love him.”

“Are you su-” You were cut off by the pair of lips you had dreamed of. The feeling of her lips on yours was like kissing her for the first time. Your arms wrapping around her body, bringing her closer.

You no longer felt the dreadful feeling of loss. No longer did you feel lost. You felt complete.

Whole once again.

:)

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #48 - Stress Relief]

"When Jungkook is there for you in stressful times."

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: she is stressed :') bless her, he is the cutest hubby ever, i want what she has tbfh, he is also such a funny dork PLEASE

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: i wanna be her hfdshf i am :( big sad :( i miss Kookie so much :(

Jungkook lifts his head, following you with his eyes. This is the second time you let out a loud sigh. He stays silent for now, feeling out the situation. 

You walk past him, heading straight to the kitchen without paying him any mind. You stay there a little under a minute then come back. 

Another sigh. 

Jungkook furrows his brows and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you are already gone again. Out of the living room and down the hallway. 

He pauses his show and leaves the couch, looking for you.

One loud sigh is nothing, two might be a coincidence, but three? Three are a pattern. Mix it with you basically being blind to his presence and something is taking up your mind. Jungkook can’t relax when he knows that you are burdened by something. 

The door to the cellar is open, the lights are on. Jungkook jogs down the stairs, following the trail of lights you left on. He ends up in the laundry room, but even that is empty. The washing machine is half emptied, the dryer half-filled. Abandoning a load of laundry is not like you at all. Jungkook grows worried. Something must really upset you.

A fourth loud sigh and the dragging of your slippers lets him know that you are coming back. 

“Ah!” you startle, stumbling back with such vigour that you almost trip.

“Careful”, he gasps, catching you with two strong hands on your hips, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

“Why are you here? You can’t just appear without warning”, you snap at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that I’d scare you”, he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You accept it half-heartedly because then you are already out of his gentle hold to hurry to the washer.

“It’s fine”, you dismiss him, working hastily to unload and load the laundry. You sigh again as you do it.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“You don’t sound good.”

“No, I’m good”, you assure him and finally start the dryer. You pick up a stack of magazines and hurry past him to the stairs. 

Jungkook follows you. You are basically running. This isn’t like you at all. Every movement you make is quick and hastily, you seem to do two tasks at once all the time and you barely want to catch your breath. 

Upstairs, you abandon the magazines to pick up some of Bam’s toys, only to drop them halfway to their basket because you remember the magazines and hurry back to them. 

Jungkook catches you in the middle of it, resting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs circles on your clothed skin, looking at you in a mixture of worry and seriousness.

“Slow down for a moment”, he tells you.

You gawk at him.

“Breathe”, he says, caressing your cheeks softly, “just take a deep breath with me.”

You breathe with him. Breathe again. And a third time. By the fourth deep breath, you let your shoulders sag. Jungkook rubs them instantly, looking at you with adoring yet worried eyes.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asks.

“I’m so stressed”, you finally confess, “I have so much to do and it’s not getting any less.”

Jungkook listens to you intently, never breaking eye contact so you really feel heard. He also hums and nods his head to really assure you that you are listened to. 

“If I think about all the stuff I have to do at the restaurant tomorrow I might cry, then I have all the things still on the fridge list I need to do and there’s already so much more I need to add to the list. I forgot to do laundry and I need to clean Bam’s toys and plan tomorrow’s dinner and I haven’t even had a snack yet and I need to pee and-” you stop yourself having to fight for air shakily.

“Hey my baby, it’s okay”, Jungkook tells you and hugs you against his chest, rubbing the back of your head gently, “I’m here now.”

“I wanna cry. I have so much to do, but I’m so exhausted”, you mumble into him, feeling too tired to hug him back even if you really wanted to. He smells so good. Like home and comfort.

“God baby, I understand. I’m so sorry you feel this way. I can help, you don’t have to do everything alone.”

“But…they’re my tasks. You have your own shit to get through.”

“Shut up, as if I’m not gonna wanna help when I see you struggling just ‘cause they’re your tasks. I don’t care, when my wifey needs a second pair of hands, I’ll be there.”

You snicker into his chest, finally finding the strength to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Wifey”, you repeat.

"Yeah, wifey. That’s you”, he squeezes you softly, “my wifey.”

You giggle. Jungkook smiles at the sound of it, rubbing your back aggressively but with care. 

“I can’t stand seeing you like this”, he says through gritted teeth, but with a playful tone. He is acting all aggressive right now to make you laugh and it really works. He is so gentle even when he is being rough that his cute antics really cheer you up. 

You put some distance between you and him so you could look at him.

“Thank you”, you say, cupping his cheeks, “you have no idea how much I need the help today.”

“Don’t even mention it, sweetie”, Jungkook assures you, kissing your forehead, “now, you’re gonna go pee and I’m gonna make you a snack. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal. Thank you, seriously.”

“Less talking, more peeing. Go, go”, he sends you away with a soft pat to your butt, making you laugh with it.

Jungkook soaks up the sound with a good feeling in his chest. Hearing your laugh instead of your tired sighs is the best change ever. Once you are out of sight, he turns and get to work. He’s got toys to store away and newspapers to sort through.

Bam’s toys are stored in the basket when you come back from the toilet, the magazines are gone as well. Seeing two of your endless tasks already done, really lifts a ton of weight from you. With your steps feeling easier, you make your way to the kitchen, hoping to find your husband.

Just as you had hoped, your cutie of a husband is in the kitchen, doing the finishing touches to your snack. He hasn’t heard you come in yet, back turned to the door.

You back hug him. Jungkook turns in your arms instantly, hugging you against him without using his hands. They are dirty from cooking. Instead, he uses his wrists to rub your back.

“Hey there, sweetie.”

“Hey pookie”, you mumble into him and let out a deep breath. It was filled with relief.

“Did you have a good pee?” he asks, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it felt so freeing.”

“That’s good to hear. You shouldn’t hold it in, it’s bad for you.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t wanna make time today.”

“I get you, I’m sorry my sweetie.”

“Mhm, thankies. What are you making?”

“Apple with peanut butter and crackers with spicy tuna. You need the healthy fats and energy.”

“I really do. The snacks sound so good.”

“They’re almost done. Sit down, I’ll bring them to you.”

You wait on the couch, staring at the scene Jungkook paused his show at. You don’t actually take anything in, however. You are completely and utterly zoned out. Now that Jungkook made you slow down for your own sake, your body is finally starting to give up on you. You feel so tired. Working a ten hour shift and then spending four hours at home doing too many chores is finally paying its tribute. You are so exhausted that even focusing your eyes feels like too much work. 

“There you go, sweetie. The snacks”, Jungkook soon joins you, placing the snacks on the coffee table. He pulls it closer to you so you wouldn’t have to get up, then places himself behind you. 

He massages your shoulders and neck, including your head as well. 

“Wow, this is so good”, you gush, closing your eyes. You rest your head against his stomach, relaxing your muscles. 

“Anything where it hurts the most?” 

“My right shoulder. It gives me a headache, it’s so bad that I hear ringing in my ear.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Does that help?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Of course, anything you need. You know, I’ve been thinking and Imma make pizza tomorrow.”

“But-”, you try to look back at him, but he stops you with a gentle nudge.

“No buts, you are struggling with dinner planning and I wanna help. You’ll just cook dinner this weekend. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. So pizza it is?”

“Yeah and the snacks are so good too”, you sniffle, “it’s so good.”

“I’m happy to hear that, my sweetie. Eat as much as you want to.”

You go to bed feeling a lot less on edge, but still with too much stress in your body to make you uneasy. You can’t fall asleep because there are still a million things running through your head. You keep repeating what you need to do, what you should have done with the occasional question in between about whether you had done something. 

Jungkook is currently coming out of the bathroom, giving you a sweet smile. 

“You’re looking cozy.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?” he gasps, increasing his steps to get to you quicker.

“I still feel stressed, there is so much pressure in my chest. I want something heavy to push it out of me, seriously.”

“Mhm, that’s not good then”, Jungkook says and drags you to the middle of the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Attention!” he says sternly.

“What are you doing?” you repeat yourself in a chuckle.

“Weighted blanket mode activated!” he says and stretches his arms out so he could blob onto your chest.

“Koo”, you squeal, shielding yourself but the impact never comes.

He catches himself before he can really crash down, lowering himself the last few inches gently. He lies horizontal to your chin and with his tummy on your chest, letting some of his weight rest on you.

“Oh god, you dork”, you laugh, throwing your arms over his waist.

“Is this helping?” he mumbles into the sheets.

“More.”

“Understood. Heavy blanket mode activation in three, two, one”, he speaks in a funny almost trill sergeant like voice and relaxes completely.

He forces a deep breath out of you this way, a sound follows as well. It carried so much relief in it.

You close your eyes. The pressure finally stops. He is so heavy on your chest and it finally feels as if you can handle all the stress thrown at you. He is truly the best weighted blanket ever.

“Better?” he asks, glancing at you through his bangs.

“Yeah”, you sigh and sniffle, “Koo, I’m gonna cry. You treat me so well.”

“Course I do. You’re my wifey and my sweetie. You can cry if you want to. It helps with stress sometimes.”

“I think I, I actually might”, you say and then start sobbing. Jungkook lets it happen, rubbing your arm so you wouldn’t feel alone. It upsets him to see you cry, but he knows that you need it right now. This isn’t a cry of sadness, this is a cry of emotional relief. Sometimes too much builds up and just needs to leave the body. His weight was finally the thing which made it happen, which allowed you to find the kind of relief your stressed little heart needed. He is just glad that he can be there for you as it happens and that you can lean on him. It also helps him feel less upset to feel you touch him innocently as you cry. It’s honestly a little cute to witness your hand give his buttocks repeated stress squeezes as you sob and sniffle. 

When those sniffles become more and more and the sobs less and less, he finally changes position to hug you, kissing the tears away.

“You’re so strong, my sweetie”, he speaks softly, “mhhhm I’m so proud of you, baby.” 

“Oh god, I feel so light again”, you say, snuggling into him, “thank you so much.”

“I’m just happy that I could help. God baby, tomorrow’s gonna be better I promise. You’ll get pizza for dinner and I can do the ironing ‘cause I only work half day. Tomorrow’s gonna be better, I promise.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

The best thing about your marriage is that you will always have each other’s back. He will give a hundred and ten when you can only give a weak ten. And in return, there are times where you will give a hundred and ten while he barely manages to get to a ten. Days like these exist, but the nice thing about them is that you won’t ever have to go through them alone. You have each other to rely on. You always will.

[ourlittleuluru]

Okay I gotta yap about the new Lost Signal memory as it just became claimable because the storyyyyyyy 😭 It's so good???? I love it so much.

In general,

I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING 😭 The script they have to readddd

And the voice acting! Good stuff! 🤣 XAVIER SOUNDS SO STIFF. The voice actors really did a good job, humu humu (/≧▽≦)

Overall story line is just... the two of them sharing some flirty moments but also action! and then the little goofy moments near the end too! (The BGM just adds so much to it) and i love it!

Gonna put the more specific stuff under the read-more (ヘ･_･)ヘ┳━┳ because there's like one specific detail that's interesting. Nothing that's too mind-blowing. 😅 (also spoilers, yep)

Him still asking for consent 🥺 even when it's not an actual kiss.... Just reminds me of the 21 days trailer, where he does the same

and then... of course, there's a whole action sequence! Because that's what this card is all about. AND I mean, I can't help it. Gotta love a battle couple. Though, after all that is said and done...

XAVIER SIR

I KNOW YOU RICH BUT DON'T??? 😭😭😭 he really just... He sounds soooo regretful and really wanted to make it up 🥺 But let the companies go through this with the right processes and procedures first??

But Mr Manager is quite the opportunist X'D

Um... Manager-san???? Xavi??? Really?? You call Xavier "Xavi" and "Xav"??? 🤣 in CN it sounded less awkward. But usually Xavier's nickname by "older" people is 小沈, but the Mane-san called him 小回 after Xavier tried to say his full name 😭 so cute????

Like... what, Xavier??? What are you gonna do??? Destroy more railcar windows???? 😭😭😭😭 Sleep constantly on the job????

First thing... "too BROKE to cook".... Haeh??? Broke? Cook? Xavier? What are you up to??? - was my first thought. Second was just him trying to find an excuse to be with MC... but the real reason... is in the later part

Okay but this whole part also has me cackling 🤣 MC please... your denseness! But Xavier still feeling so darn guilty!! (but one thing here. IDK why, in CN the broadcaster does say "ST" as the donator. Though in EN, the broadcaster says "X" so... not sure why the sub in EN isn't following the EN script :v;;; just localization things, I guess)

MC.... ALL THAT MONEY WAS XAVIER'S 🤣😭 Man is trying to fix his OWN mistakes

but the fact he donated for 15 years... so he pretty much started donating since the Chronorift Catastrophe (or about a year before that) 🤔 aside from running around as Lumiere... Interesting detail to note!

Xavier's habit of scratching his nose when he feels awkward or needs to dodge a conversation topic 🥺💕 (But MC... you're both praising Xavier and dissing him at the same time.... 😂)

Okay... I think this is all for my ramblings??? I'll add on if I happen to catch anything else then. Until then... I'll just listen to this over and over...

Aight, Chu, Signing out! (￣^￣)ゞ

[littlemarianah]

Fun ideas for fanfics that I don't have time to write - Part 2

They meet at a meeting for young people with disabilities that their school hosts every week. The principal say it is to promote diversity, but these meetings happen when other students are enjoying their summer at outdoor. It feels more like detention. Something to keep away those who are uncomfortable to look at.

While everyone is outside, they have to listen to the teacher, a drunk veteran, playing boring videos on TV all afternoon about inclusivity

Peeta notices a new girl. She has a serious look on her face, black hair braided in a beautiful black braid falling over her shoulder. Her eyes are trying hard to stay open and she's trying not to fall asleep.

Since the teacher hates talking on class, Peeta decides to send her a note.

"Haymitch's classes are the best cure for insomnia."

He passes the small piece of paper under the table and gives it to her. Katniss takes and reads it. She giggles a little, Peeta is proud to wipe the frown off her face.

She scribbles something and returns the paper.

"He seems more bored than us."

"He must hate it more than we do."

She takes the paper again and writes. "I'm Katniss Everdeen, and you?"

"Peeta Mellark"

Then they stop sending notes, but Peeta can't stop looking at her. If she's here, she's disabled, but Peeta can't guess anything about her. It's rude to ask, Peeta thinks. He also doesn't look any different from the others when he's sitting in long pants, it's only when he has to get up that his metal leg starts to click and he starts limping around.

It's weird to think about it, but everyone here is here for a reason.

Johanna Mason is partially blind.

Finnick Odair is in a wheelchair.

Most of the time it's easy to guess, not her. At the end of class Peeta decides to talk to Katniss. She's fast, she seems to want to get away from there as quickly as she can, Peeta finds her in the hallway getting ready to leave.

"Hey." he murmurs. "It's nice to meet you. Welcome." Peeta say, and see a confused expression form on her face. He thinks maybe he spoke too softly, so he repeats it. "It's nice to meet you."

She shakes her head and says. "I'm deaf, I don't understand you."

Peeta freezes, he hesitates and takes his phone out of his pocket.

"I'm sorry about that." He types quickly in his notes.

She reads it and shrugs. "I am used to it." she says. "I'm bad at reading lips."

Peeta gives a clumsy smile, Katnisa too. She waves goodbye and leaves. Peeta is sure he lost all his chances with the pretty new girl.

___________

Disclaimer:

Katniss and Peeta both have recently acquired disabilities. They are both trying to cope with fitting into society again.

This is just a draft, not well written.

This idea just popped out of my head.

Obviously Peeta and Katniss become boyfriend and girlfriend.

[thedeviltohisangel]

Invisible String

totally blame @karasnonsense99 for making me think about theseus in that way again. but also the way this gif changed me.

anyways. just had to get something for him written down and off my chest. i will write more if anyone would like me to. xoxo

She nearly dropped the glass gallon of pumpkin juice with a screech as the light turned on in her apartment and a man was lounging on her couch.

“Theseus? What are you doing here?” It had been years since she’d seen the wizard. Their farewell on the battle fields of the muggle war feeling like a lifetime ago. “Did you break into my-“ Margot paused as he remained silent to her line of questioning.

“I didn’t know where else to go. I thought of home. Thought of some place with warmth and comfort. Ended up here.” Her tiny apartment in New York. As far away from France as he could think to get.

“The funeral last week,” she sighed as she placed her juice in the kitchen and went to sit next to him.

“You weren’t there. I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“I thought you’d want some space. Not a reminder of the aftermath.” She’d been in Paris at the time of the rally and Leta’s death. Had been hired to pose with makeup at Galeries Lafayette.

“Yet here I am. Seeking you out and all that brings with it.”

“Here you are,” she murmured back. “Hungry? Thirsty?” Breaking the trance of his gaze at the ceiling, he followed her form into the kitchen and listened to her rifling around.

“I should get going. Get back to London.”

“Already? You’ve only just gotten here.” Margot’s head poked out from the other room with a frown on her face. “At least stay for dinner.”

“I need to get back to normal.” He rose into a seated position, resting his elbows on the top of his thighs.

“You could find a new normal.” Theseus craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of what was in the pots flying through the air. “Stay here and relax for a couple days and then decide.” She assumed he had come all this way for more than just a moment of respite. Assumed he was looking for a distraction. Someone to keep an eye on him during this period of healing. This is always how it was between them. They always said farewell then came back together when other was seeking a steady hand or a flutter in their heart. Looking for unconditional love.

“You paint anything new recently?” he rose slowly and made to glance down the short hall toward her spare room. A room he knew was filled with canvases and paints and a myriad of arts supplies. All her money went towards her passion for creation. The modeling wasn’t fun but a means to an end. It gave her enough coins to keep a roof over her head, canvas in her room and food for her Pygmy puff, Felix.

“A little. They’ve got me traveling more for photos. Doesn’t leave a lot of time.” The boiling and bubbling stopped and was replaced by plates clanging and silverware spriting to her tiny table and mismatched chairs.

“I thought the point was to fund your painting. Not let it take over.”

“My art doesn’t pay the bills.”

“You don’t put your art out there.” He was in the doorway now, Margot blinking at the way he filled it completely, looking at her like a lecture was brewing.

“And what if I did? No one wants to buy it-“

“Gogo-“ She flinched away from the old nickname. The name he’d called her the first time they’d shared a bed. And every time after.

“Let’s eat before the sausages get cold.” The plates followed her to the table and settled softly.

“You would tell me if money was tight?” He had tried to offer her assistance in the past. She never accepted it.

“No,” Margot answered as she bit into their dinner. They ate quietly. She was afraid he would disappear to London as soon as they finished. Her chews were as slow as possible.

It didn’t used to be this way between them. Before The Great War, they’d met at Hogwarts. Margot the only thing able to distract the perfect student that was Theseus Scamander. The years in between spent traveling and learning and experiencing. He’d settled at the Auror office and she’d struggled to find her way. He’d been the only one to encourage her to keep creating. The war…it had taken the color right out of her.

“Thank you for dinner.” Thought it had been different, it had been familiar. A reminder of the life they could have had together. The peace his life could have been.

“You’re welcome anytime.” She waved her hand and the dishes drifted to the sink. “Spend the night at least?” Don't leave me alone. I can’t say goodbye to you again.

“Okay.” Ask me to stay more than just tonight. Ask me to be in your life again. Tell me we can be each other’s safety and security again.

Tell me I’m worthy of love. Worthy of you.

Tell me we’ll learn each our own language again. See color again.

Tell me one day I’ll be able to look in the mirror.

Look at you.

And not have to ever wonder if you see me.

[juniperdugong]

Perfection {Teaser}

No one has looked at you like that. With such admiration, such kindness. Taking in all your details and intricacies. Playing with a piece of paper and through it piecing together what was meant to be you. Eyes glancing back and forth with a smile. Oh god, why did the mortician have to have such a sickly sweet smile as he looked at your corpse? Why did your soul not leave when it was meant to?

Pairing: mortician!mingyu x corpse!GNreader

Genre: Mortician!au, Horror!au || Fluff, Crack (simply bc this concept is not normal in the slightest babes), Romance, Angst(?)

Warnings: Mentions of death, corpses, and gore (Nothing in depth and nothing intended to disturb) || Necrophilia(?), It's more like Necro-romance, aka romantic attraction to a corpse. || Nudity || {Please let me know if there are other warnings you would like me to add}

Teaser WC: 518

Songs that inspired this fic

A/N: Hey, people...First fic and it's one based on all the different renditions of Frankenstein...Because of course, I would. My incessant need to write stories with insane premises is shining right now. If you listen to the playlist I hope you don't mind the mix of goth, rock, and folk. Oh lord, in my mind I just feel like Mingyu would be the type of hopeless romantic to fall in love with a dead person. I hope y'all enjoy!

Not proofread!

MASTERLIST

He was oh so gentle with you. The way he was careful with his movements as he heaved your stretcher onto the table. Your eyes followed him as he went ahead and gathered various things from around the room. Setting them on a table near you. A deep breath settled in him as he scanned your body. You felt vulnerable in this state, not much you could do about it but still. He got a clipboard and read through it. As he did he circled you, tapping gently at different parts of your body as he went along. Assessing your situation and what he would have to make "presentable" no doubt. Then he stopped. Pausing as he made his way back towards your head. Another sigh as he gazed at you. "You were so pretty. I wish we had met under other circumstances y/n." If a heart was in your body it would be beating so fast right now. His hand reached out and grazed your forehead. Is he moving the hair from your face? If you had working veins you would be blushing wildly. This is crazy. You've decided that this is crazy. Your soul for some reason has decided to stick to your body instead of following the heavenly trumpets towards the pearly gates of paradise. And here you were, prisoner in your own skin, unable to move or speak or do much of anything. And the only thing on your mind is the man who is preparing your body??? Oh, Christ. What the actual hell is happening? Also, why does it seem like the mortician is just as invested in you? Are morticians supposed to have organ jars in their preparation rooms? You suppose they do take care of those sorts of things, plus he's the professional in this situation, right? "The more I look at you…The more I wish…What am I saying?" he shook his head with a huff. Your eyes were open, not like you could willingly close them, but you were somehow able to see in this state. You could see the way the protective gown fell on his arm, very faintly outlining some sort of muscle. The way his breath caught on the mask, not shallowly at all either, a heavy breath. Almost like when he looked at you you had taken it away and he was grasping to get it back. The gloves that held snug to his big fingers, his warm hands, the ones that graced you gently with every touch. So caught up in memorizing his features you hadn't noticed that he was tracing your inner arm and staring right back at your lifeless eyes. "Actually, you might be perfect and these might just be perfect circumstances y/n…" he tilted his head as he said those words, gazing deeply at all of you, taking you in like some person at the other end of the bar. Why was he walking away? What did he mean by perfect? Is he walking over with one of those jars right now? Lord, you should've followed the trumpets…

{Right on time, just minutes after voting closed, let me know what you think, love you all!}

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His forever and ever

// Chapter Three //

// Pairing //

→ (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary //

→ Your best friend is always there — even though he has a date, for you he has always time. And even better when his date comes with him and you end up on the couch with two men, chocolate and movies.

// Wordcount //

→ 3.034 Words

// Warnings // Teen

→ crying, fluff, Steve and Tony being cute

// Authors Note //

→ The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading, coming up with more details and the nickname Steve uses for Tony.

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

<- Chapter Two

After a long run through the dark alleys you finally stop, listening to the noises around you but there is nothing but silence. Your heart is beating fast and you need a moment to calm your breathing down as well. The adrenaline Bucky caused is still running through your veins.

He scared you — at least a bit — you have seen him angry, you have seen him sweet but that was a different Bucky. The man you used to know was sweet and lovely around you, even though he was angry. But now he was just a dick, not caring that he fucked up.

You look for your phone, fishing it out of your pocket before you unlock it and tap on Steve’s contact to call him. You know he is probably busy with Tony but he always told you to just call him when you need something — so you do.

Your body starts to shake the more you calm down from the adrenaline. When you finally tap Steve’s contact and the familiar sound of the ringing echoes through your ear you sigh softly and make your way back home. Luckily you’re just a few streets away so it won’t need long.

“Hi, princess. What’s up? Do ya’ need me to pick ya’ up from a guy?” Your best friend asks when he picks up. Tears well up in your eyes and you swallow harshly before you answer him.

“W—Would you mind coming home?” You ask, quietly so he won’t hear the shaking in your eyes or the soft sniffle that leaves your lips when the tears fall down your cheeks. You hear a gasp, then move on the other side of the call. Steve mumbles a sorry, moving some more. “S—Stevie?”

“Give me a moment, pack my staff. I’m back at home in ten minutes. Are you home? Do you need something? Fuck— what happened? Are you home?” Steve asks, panicking and you almost giggle about it. But as much as you would laugh about your best friend — asking everything without giving you time to answer, rushing to pack his things — you can’t.

You feel so empty from the inside and you already miss the warm and soft touches of Bucky. He didn’t even touch you for a long time but it felt so warm and so familiar — even though he scared you. Now you’re freezing, not only because of the outside but also because of your inside. Your heart breaks into pieces with every tear that falls down your cheek.

“I am now. B—Bucky was there, h-he followed me and we talked but he was s-so different. So warm but also so cold. Oh, Stevie, he looked so tired and broken, I wanted to just let myself fall into his arms but I— I kicked his balls,” you explain, hearing some hums and gasps from your best friend until he chuckles softly.

“Home in around ten minutes, don’t worry, princess,” he mumbles, rushing through Tony’s apartment while you open the door to your shared apartment, finally able to breath without being scared that Bucky could appear around the next corner. “Love you, princess.”

“Love you too, Stevie,” you mumble, shrugging your jacket off and taking off your shoes. Then you hang up and make your way into the kitchen.

Your hands are still shaking, whenever you hear a soft noise you flinch and turn around. Not even making yourself tea distracts you well enough to calm down. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage. When you close your eyes for the slightest of movements you feel Bucks hands moving over your body, his breath against your neck and you can’t help the tears from falling down your cheeks.

He has hurt you so much, but your heart wants what it wants. And when he puts you before his work, just to talk to you to come back to him — then he really loves you too. Your heart is broken in tiny little pieces and all you want is Bucky wrapping his strong arms around you, pressing you against his chest so you would be able to smell his cologne and just him. But you also know that you can’t just give in to him, otherwise he could hurt you once again.

“Tony, I’m sorry, I really need to go home. The evening was wonderful and I—“ Steve says, his eyes hesitantly looking through the living room to be sure he picked everything he needs up. Tony chuckles softly, his lips are just as swollen as Steve’s when he makes a step closer to the taller man.

“Would you mind when I come with you? I’m sure she would need a lot of cuddles and love, could we pick up some chocolate too?” Tony grins, his hand lifting to place against his cheek. He slides his thumb over Steve’s pink, plumb lips.

Steve parts his lips slightly, nodding his head then and leaning down to kiss Tony softly. “Are you sure? It would be amazing but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I want to, Steve, I want to be with you and your best friends belong to you so yes, I want to. And we all had a heartbreak and needed someone to be close to, someone who just stays around until the little pieces are fixed again.” Steve nods once again, smirking softly before he grasps Tony’s hand and pulls him with him into the small floor.

“You’re the best, you know that, don’t you?” Steve whispers while he thinks about everything the two of them need to get from the shops. “Chocolate, strawberries, what else do we need?”

“Let’s go to the shops and then you can look what she likes, so now open the door and move your pretty ass,” Tony laughs softly, his cheeks immediately heating up when Steve looks at him with raised eyebrows and amused expression on his face.

They both hurry to get into the car, stopping by the nearest shop and Steve takes everything he finds that you love, so he just buys it all. He knows your heartbreaks, knows what helps and right now he needs all that stuff even though it’s distracting you just for a bit. But you’re worth it, Steve would pick up a star out of the sky to give it to you just to make sure you’re happy.

And whenever you think about it — you also think about Bucky. He would have done the same for you. Bucky would have walked around the whole world for you, he would have bought you everything you could have asked for and he still would. And also his lovely gestures like cuddling roses or just a movie marathon, it made you so happy and now so sad that you don’t know if you will ever be able to fall in love with someone who isn't Bucky.

Everything you do reminds you of him. And every man you look at can be nice but you compare them all with Bucky, no one is like him and they could try as much as they could but they would never be the one man who owns your heart. You don’t even know if you want to fall in love with someone else, not because your heart wouldn’t do it but just because it wouldn’t be Bucky.

It wouldn’t be his musk cologne nor would it be his personal sweet smell. The warmth wouldn’t be the same and the strong arms wrapped around you would feel like the ones of a friend, but not like someone you fell for. No matter how blue the eyes of another man would be, they would never shine like Bucky’s, you wouldn’t be able to see the storm of emotions in them or the sweetness when he smiles. Not even a smile would be like his, it’s only him who scrunches his nose so slightly and it makes him even more beautiful. Bucky owns your heart, your soul and you know that no matter who will appear in your life he wouldn’t be like Bucky.

When they finish their shopping they make their way home and it doesn’t take long. Hands full with stuff Steve and Tony just bought, they walk upstairs to your and Steve’s apartment.

Steve unlocks the door and when you hear another voice you immediately flinch, your eyes widen and you stare to the floor. Your heart races, footsteps coming closer and you don’t even realize that you held your breath until both men were standing in front of the kitchen island.

Only when Steve makes his way around it to hug you and pull you as close as possible you finally relax and let out a soft sigh. His broad chest is pressing against your cheek, his arms around you holding you close and his chin is placed on top of your head.

You have your arms wrapped around his waist, fingers digging into his shirt to make sure he isn’t going to let go before you’re not feeling at least a bit better.

“Feelin’ better, princess?” He asks when you pull away softly. Steve captures your cheeks with his broad hands, wiping the tears you didn’t even realize away. Then you nod softly, trying to smile but he knows that it’s not real. With a soft sigh he brings your head closer to him, kissing your forehead softly.

“It’s fine, Stevie. I—I just miss him,” you mumble, trying to smirk through the tears that build up in your eyes once again. “I love him so much.”

With your hands you fist Steve’s shirt, looking up at him with teary eyes. “I know, but it will be fine. You will find someone who makes you happy,” your best friend mumbles before he lets go of you to show you everything they bought.

You take a step back from Steve, deep in your thoughts when you look at Tony and nod toward him with a soft smile. The smaller man helps Steve to place everything on the table while you just watch them.

Steve holds up something and into your direction, you take it and giggle when you know what he has planned. You’re going to make strawberries with chocolate, and Steve bought your favorite chocolate to do that.

He sneaks out of the kitchen, and Tony uses the opportunity to turn toward you and smile nicely at you. “How are you? I mean how are you really?”

“I’m not sure,” you chuckle, voice slightly shaking and the trails of the tears still visible. “It feels like my heart was ripped out, smashed down, stamped into the ground, shattered into pieces before I picked them up— almost all off and put them back where they belong.”

The brown-haired man nods, he leans with his back against the kitchen counter. His tongue pokes out and slides over his lips, writing them. “You love him and you don’t want someone else, do you? Nothing against Steve, he is wonderful but he doesn’t see the way your eyes light up when you just talk about your ex, he didn’t see the way you broke from the inside when he told you that you will find someone else.”

“I love Bucky, and I can’t let him go that easy. Everything reminds me of him, and even though he hurt me so badly I still hope that there is the man I feel in love with and that he is going to show me that he is that man. But he scared me, he put things first and I don’t know if he’s still the same man. He always took care that he doesn't going to scare me but now?” you mumble, walking closer to where Tony is standing and holding up the chocolate. “So let’s make some chocolate strawberries and then you two can watch romantic movies with me, eating ice cre—“

You interrupt yourself when you look around to find the ice cream. When you don’t see some you pout, shrugging it off. Tony chuckles. “In the freezer.”

With a now happier grin you look for a pot and fill it with water to let the chocolate melt. You place a plate and a knife on the table, without a word Tony immediately grasps both and the strawberries to cut them into smaller pieces.

“I know why Steve chose you. You’re nice and sweet and you could have just ignored the plate or waited for me to tell you to do it but you helped me without me needing to ask for it,” you giggle and earn an agreeing hum from Steve who walks back into the kitchen.

“That’s exactly why I chose him, and you should kiss him. I mean not literally, don’t kiss what’s mine! I love you princess but you should know the limits,” Steve says in a serious tone before the three of you burst out laughing.

He knows that you would never touch a man he likes, at least not in the way they touch one another. And he also knows that you’re still in love with Bucky — you don’t even think about another man.

“Get a room, boys,” you counter, giggling softly when Tony blushes and he is suddenly so concentrated on the strawberries to not show you how much he blushes. You chuckle softly, Steve walks toward Tony, wrapping his arm around the waist of the smaller man and he kisses the brown-haired man's neck softly.

“Do you think we should get a room, shortstack?” Steve breathes into Tony’s ear. With widened eyes and open mouth the smaller man turns around, facing Steve, then he looks at you before he looks back at Steve.

Your best friend laughs, loving the way how shy Tony is and how much he blushes. “Don’t call me, shortstack, I hate that!”

“That’s everything you picked up from what I said?” Steve asks amused and Tony nods. He has listened to every word Steve said but he doesn’t have a good answer so he just picked up the nickname Steve gave him. “And you love it.”

“I don’t!”

“You do!” With a sigh Tony agrees. Steve came up with that nickname and no one has called him like that and Steve never called someone else ‘shortstack’ so Tony fell in love with that nickname just as much as he fell in love with Steve.

“But it’s not about us! So make the chocolate over the strawberries so she can decide on a movie we watch first,” Tony says in a soft but demanding tone. Steve can’t help but whispers, “you’re so hot when you boss me around,” into the other man’s ear before he makes his way to where you’re standing with the chocolate in your hand. “And what movie do you wanna watch?”

You grin, already knowing that you’re going to watch your favorite movie. One that involves heartbreak, love and everything you feel or not but it’s still your favorite movie — to make you and Steve cry.

“Oh, no! Princess, NO! Not that movie, please princess, I will buy you an island but not— NO!” Steve begs. The first date with Tony and he impressed the smaller man with being so masculine and now you’re going to ruin it with a movie. He knows he is going to cry, not just because the movie is sad during the break down, but also because of joy when she finally finds the love of her life and is happy with that man then.

When you both watched the movie the first time, you were cuddled up together. A lot of tissues everywhere on the couch and the floor. You both imagined them moving into a house together, having a whole lot of dogs and cats and a big pool.

“It doesn’t sound like a bad movie when Stevie says no,” Tony chuckles. With a nod you make your way into the living room, letting the two men make the food and drinks before they will join you to watch the movie.

Steve glances at the brown-haired man, his eyebrows narrowed. “You only do that because I called you shortstack,” Steve mumbles, while he tries to bring the chocolate to melt faster. Tony is cutting the strawberries, his laugh is muffled by one in his mouth.

The laughing is enough of an answer for Steve, who rolls his eyes playfully. The chocolate is slowly melting over the boiling water. “You know that you impress me already, not because you're a man who can handle things. You're adorable in any other way too. You don't mind rushing to your best friend when she needs you, you're funny— you impress me so much already, so let me see you being such a softie when it comes to movies.”

With a sigh Steve nods, smirking at Tony. He then brings the chocolate to the table and both of them dip the strawberries into the chocolate. They put them all on a small plate, grasping the other sweets and drinks. “You impress me too, shortstack.”

Both men make their way into the living room where you’re sitting already. They place all the food and drinks next to you on the couch before they take a seat next to you. Steve on your left and Tony on your right.

“Haven’t had that many men around me in a while,” you giggle, grasping the plate with the chocolate strawberries and placing them on your lap. You then start the movie, and giggle when Steve groans playfully. “It’s a cool movie, Stevie.”

As always Steve started to sniffle when the movie was about half way finished, you were laughing most of the time or shoving Steve strawberries into his mouth to make him chuckle. And since Tony was there too, you had two big boys to feed with your lovely strawberries.

Tony was already almost married to your best friend, you both have a lot in common and he just laughs about your favorite as much as you. Steve glares ever now and then at Tony, but as much as he tries he can’t hide the smirk on his plump lips.

Chapter Four ->

-> Asks, ideas, small Drabble ideas are appreciated! So feel free to reach out in case you have ideas or questions.

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[ahhnini]

Heyyy your writing is so good!! I'm so hooked thank you so much for thattttt...

SO...(IGNORE IF YOU HATE IT, SORRY IF I MADE YOU FEEL UMCOFORTABLE!!!!) I was dying on your cheater ex rafe cameron and oh my god perfection very happy and fluff at the end but if you make like, a alternate destructive ending?? Maybe Rafe comes back from the rehab and apparently he moved, he has a healthy relationship with the reader and jason but... When Rafe is alone with the reader hes the old rafe, hitting on reader and all that and the reader keeps getting confused and tempted because maybe Jason is a bit off or Jason is TOO perfect and the reader never stopped loving Rafe and one day the reader gives in and feels terrible afterwards but then realizes that they belong to Rafe. Also a scene where Rafe and Jason get into a fight and unknowingly the reader goes to Rafe's aid instead of Jason's... IDK I LOVE YOUU BYEEEE

a night to remember - cheater!ex! rafe cameron x cheater!reader

part one / part two

synopsis - an enchanting night with rafe has you contemplating your relationship with your boyfriend

tysm for the request!! i’m glad you’re enjoying this little series!! (dw you didn’t make me uncomfy at all!) hope you like this!

warnings - alternate ending to better things & I wish you love (please read those two parts first!), alcohol consumption, infidelity (from reader), implied sex, relapsing mention, canon divergent, gaslighting (from reader), profanity, slow burn

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

word count - 3.8k

divider credits - roseraris

a/n - can yall tell laufey is one of my fav artists 😭

ask box is open for requests!

rafe felt like an outsider. he felt like his life froze after he left for rehab. now that he was back in the obx, he watched as everyone’s lives moved on, including yours, while his stood still.

meanwhile, your relationship with jason was going…okay. truth was, he was fine. the honeymoon phase was long over, now it feels like he’s becoming more demanding of your time.

you didn’t mind it at first, it’s nice to spend time together, you think. you were happy to spend time with your boyfriend. it made you feel loved

but then he became more clinger. and it made you uncomfortable because now all he ever wanted to do was be with you. he’s now bringing up topics you weren’t particularly comfortable with, such as marriage and kids. while you’d love to talk about these things with him, it unsettled you. he was passionate about these things, and almost made it seem like he was manifesting it for you two. you don’t engage in the conversation, just softly humming and nodding your head. because,

he’ll stop eventually, right?

except, he hasn’t. you two were at a party, it was at one of his friend’s houses. it was in full swing, strobe lights blasting and people dancing to music you didn’t listen to. you were in the backyard, drink in your hand while jason had his arm around you while he rambled your ear away about nonexistent wedding plans. it started to really annoy you, so you made the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom to touch up.

reluctantly, he agreed. you handed him your drink as you walked inside the house. it was dark, so you held onto the walls to use as your guide. you didn’t actually know where the restroom was, you just needed to get away from your overbearing boyfriend.

then, you see him. rafe.

he was back? when? your mom never bothered to tell you. but then again, you barely see her anymore so maybe she knew. you stare at him with wide eyes, hoping the dark ambiance of the party didn’t let him see you standing like a creep. you find a quiet corner and sigh, clutching your chest. it was a feeling you were all too familiar with, it was the same feeling you had when you first started dating rafe and your current boyfriend jason.

why is he making your heart flutter again? you thought you were over him. you bring out your phone from your pocket and text jason

hey, not feeling well. think i’m gonna go home.

okay, i’ll drive you. meet me out front

grabbing your things, you meet your boyfriend at the front yard.

rafe was conflicted. he didn’t want to be at this party, but at the same time, it made him feel welcomed. he knew people would be doing drugs here, it was a given to any party on figure eight, almost like a ritual. he knew there was a chance that he would relapse again, but he trusted himself enough to not give into the temptation.

only a few people knew where he truly went. his family and yours knew that he went to rehab. everyone else? they were told he had some business overseas.

he just wanted to feel at home again. and that’s when he saw you. he had been grabbing a beer from one of the coolers in the backyard, and he saw your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you; he was saying something, and you looked visibly bored. this was the first time he saw you and your boyfriend after he left, and he noticed something was different. as he stares at you for a couple more moments, he sighs, knowing your relationship was none of his business and makes his way back inside the house.

you looked drained, he thinks. again, he shakes those thoughts away, opening his beer and taking a sip. he stares at the floor, not caring about the girl who's eyeing him across the room. he sees her, she was definitely not making her advances subtle. rafe rolls his eyes at her, even though he knows she can't see him. he quickly downs the beer before deciding he's had enough of the night. he's caught up with the people he hasn't seen in a while, had a couple of drinks and had his fun on the makeshift dance floor. he shoved his way past the girl, who attempted to grab his shoulder in the process, and went to his bike parked outside.

your head hurt. after jason dropped you off last night, you slumped on your bed and he went home. here you were, staring at the celling, not knowing what time it was, hungover. you hold your head in your hands as you try to relieve your headache, ultimately deciding to go downstairs to have a drink of water.

no one's home, good. your family won't see you hungover and give you a three hour lecture about why drinking is bad. you quickly chug down a glass of cold water, feeling hydrated immediately. you make yourself a bowl of cereal and slouch on your sofa, staring into space.

you think about rafe, god damnit. he hasn't occupied your thoughts in so long. you shove spoonfuls of cereal in your mouth as you become frustrated with your own mind, turning on the tv to distract yourself.

should you unblock him? he seems in a much better state from when you last saw him. you bite your lip as your finger hovered over the unblock button. quickly, you tap it, letting a breath out you didn't know you were holding. that's the easiest part done, you think. you stared at the empty text conversation, breath quickening once again. you hesitate. you have a boyfriend, you're in a loving relationship, what were you doing?

you fight with yourself. you don't know if it was the headache or your impulses taking over, but you did it. you texted rafe. you told yourself that you two could still remain friends. you were waiting for a text back, only sending a simple hey. you tapped your fingers on the back of your phone case, ears perking up at every notification. you shouldn't be feeling like this, you tell yourself over and over again.

you don't know how you got here. you were at a cafe with your boyfriend and...rafe? he responded to your text, and wanted to meet up for coffee. you were still reluctant to be with him, alone, so you asked him if jason could come as well. rafe agreed. it was awkward, and all three of you sat in absolute silence, taking occasional sips of coffee and breaking off your croissant to eat.

jason clears his throat, and you look at him for what he was going to say. “how’ve you been?” he says, asking rafe. his response was dry, “fine.” you let out a small hum, trying to dissolve the tension. rafe glances at you, then looks down at his plate. you speak up, “it’s good seeing you again, rafe. glad you’re doing better now.” rafe nods. “alright — it’s obvious there’s some tension here,” jason says your name, “why did you want to meet up with him in the first place?” you lick your dry lips before speaking, “uh, just wanted to…clear the bad blood…wanted to be friends again. it’s not good, actively attempting to avoid each other on the island.” rafe nods his head, “yeah, what I did to you was…horrible to say the least. but, it’s been a long time, and I’m sorry.” your eyes widen, he’s apologizing? rafe, apologizing? you thought you’d never hear it. you stare at him before replying, “I— thank you for apologizing rafe. uh, like I said in our texts, I’m ready to start a friendship with you,” you sigh. jason’s eyes narrow, before interrupting what you were gonna say next, “just friends, right?” “of course, babe”

it was a warm, sunny day. rafe invited you and jason on his yacht for a picnic. things were going well, but you wished you could be with rafe without your boyfriend breathing down your neck. it was seriously starting to bother you. it made you feel insecure that your boyfriend couldn’t trust you to hang out with a friend. did he think you were unfaithful? you were above that kind of thing, you think. you put a piece of cantaloupe in your mouth as you watch the boys swim through the water. you lay down, staring at the blue sky.

after a while, you noticed you didn’t hear any splashing, and become concerned. you immediately stood up and looked at the blue water, not seeing any bodies moving. oh god, oh no. your mind goes to the worst scenario possible and you move to the lower deck to bring out the buoys. you hold two buoys in each of your arms and prepare to go into the water. when you reach the top step of the ladder, you feel a pair of arms quickly wrap around your legs. having no time to react, you scream as you fall down and splash into the cold ocean. you quickly swim up and gasp for air, your face in shock. you turn around and see jason and rafe snickering like little boys. your face twisted and you bite the inside of your cheek in annoyance, throwing the buoys that strayed from your arms in their direction. “not funny,” you grumble. “oh, c’mon, it was a little funny,” jason replies as he comes behind you and grabs your waist gently, guiding you back up the ladder. as you wrap the towel around your wet body, you softly chuckle. jason and rafe getting along, you thought you’d never see the day.

your friendship with rafe was going better than expected. you were both at tannyhill, hanging out at his living room. jason went to cancun for a week, and he was coming back in a few days. the awkwardness between you and rafe dissolved, and you both were playing monopoly while a low-budget movie plays in the background. “so,” rafe drags out, “how are you and your little boyfriend?” “we’re doing good…” you say, quietly, hesitating to tell him about your boyfriend’s current…problems… you look at him, there was a glint in his eyes that looked all too familiar. you missed it — what? you subconsciously shake your head, stop, you have a boyfriend. you two are just friends now. “it’s your turn to roll,” rafe says, pulling you away from your thoughts, “huh? oh, sorry” “what’s on your mind?” rafe asks, gently putting his hand on yours. “nothing, I just miss jason I guess,” you don’t move your hand, letting him intertwine your fingers with yours. “waiting for him to take you away from me again?” he exaggerates a pout, and you roll your eyes. there’s that old rafe. he never truly left. “it’s your turn, now,” you reply, ignoring his snide comment. rafe sighs, letting go of your hand, “i’m bored and hungry. do you wanna order delivery or something?” “yeah, sure.” he pulls out his phone, “what are you in the mood for, sweetheart?” your heart flutters at the nickname, and you stumble over your words, “i’m down for whatever, honestly.” “pizza?” “sure, why not,” you shrug. he nods his head as he pushed a couple of buttons on his phone, and you stare at the floor. “got it, a simple pepperoni pizza; your favorite,” he smiles before continuing, “it’ll be here in thirty.” “perfect,” you respond.

you laugh at a stupid joke rafe said, “stop! you’re gonna make me choke!” you said through your laughter, a greasy pizza in your hand. he softly chuckles and says your name, “it wasn’t that funny, why are you laughing?” “it was! your joke was hilarious, rafe,” you calm your breathing down, smiling at him. the weather cooled down by the time the pizza arrived, so you both ate by the pool, wading your feet in the water. rafe looks at you again, the same look he’s been giving to you all day, and the same look he gave to you when you were both still in a relationship. you take another bite of the pizza and stare out into the view. “you should stay the night, sweetheart,” rafe says suddenly, and you turn your head towards him. he’s been calling you that more often. you shake your head, “are you sure?” rafe gives you a boyish smile, “yeah, it’ll be like…old times. you don’t have to sleep in my room, but i’d like you to.”

“rafe. we can’t do that, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“yeah?” he looks around, “but I don’t see him anywhere, and plus, we’ll be sleeping in the same bed as friends, not as a hookup or anything like that. like a…sleepover,” he was still a manipulative little shit. you sigh, knowing he always gets what he wants, “fine.”

this felt nostalgic, laying in bed with rafe. it was silly to think about; you vowed to never go back to rafe, and here you were, laying on his bed as you did many nights throughout your relationship. you felt guilty. even though you know this “sleepover” is platonic, you couldn’t stop thinking about the suggestive undertone it had. and you had a boyfriend who was out of town, how would he react?

“I can basically hear your thoughts, sweetheart,” rafe says, turning his body towards you. “stop calling me that,” you say, turning your head towards him. “why? you didn’t tell me to stop calling you that earlier,” he says, voice as smug as ever. under the blankets, he ghosts his fingers along your waist, prompting you to move closer to him. like routine, your body moves closer towards his, until he pulls your backside flush against his chest, mouth close to your ear as he whispers, “I know you still miss me, you’re not happy with him.” “rafe, we shouldn’t—this is so wrong—”

“I know, but it’s exciting, isn’t it? knowing your boyfriend won’t be here to interrupt,” you can practically hear him smirk.

he’s right, your boyfriend wouldn’t be here to interrupt. boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend, your mind keeps saying. in a haze, you crane your neck towards him, and seal your lips together. he kisses back with more desire, inhaling you like you were his last breath. he wraps his arms tighter around your waist and changed position; him on top of you. you both continue making out, your head in a daze as you begin to undress rafe. he pulls the soft white sheets over the both of you, and you could’ve swore you heard him mumble finally.

you regret everything. you cheated on your boyfriend, and with rafe of all people. the ex who cheated on you. you wake up surrounded by the catastrophe that happened last night. clothes on the floor, messy sheets, the memory of rafe’s touch lingered on your skin like a tattoo, and you turn your head to see him peacefully sleeping. last night lit up the spark that dwindled between you two.

fuck, you still love him. you gently brush his hair away from his face, and sigh. god, you were so, so stupid. you sat up, checking your phone, and seeing a text from jason.

hey! just got back! heading over to your place in 10 ❤️

he sent that twenty minutes ago. you’re hoping your mom didn’t tell him you were at rafe’s, but judging how he’s not rampaging through tannyhill at the moment, you assumed she didn’t. you can’t believe it. your feelings for rafe never left after all. you stand up, regret and guilt fill your aura as you pick up your clothes from the floor and dress yourself, leaving tannyhill.

it was all you could think about. jason was having tea with your mom when you came through the front door, your mom telling him that you spent the night at a friend’s house. he kissed you, and you recoiled. he looked at you confused and excused himself from the table with your mom, heading upstairs to your room.

you still smelled like him. did he notice?

you sat down on the bed and he holds up the bag of souvenirs, saying that it was all yours.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all throughout my trip. it sucks that we didn’t have any service, but I bought you gifts that reminded me of you,” he says sweetly. “t-thank you…” you trail off, staring at him with guilt.

how were you supposed to tell him?

he sits down with you on the bed, wrapping an arm around you. “you okay?” “yeah, yeah,” he smiles, gently kissing you on the cheek. “you use a new perfume or something?” “uh—yeah, went shopping while you were away,” sweat forms in your palms. “oh, okay…hey, I wanna talk to you about something…about…rafe if you don’t mind,” jason says, while kissing you on your forehead. “yeah? what is it?” you say, quicker than you wanted to.

“he’s cool and all, but…don’t you think he likes you a little too much?” “what are you talking about, jason?” you hear him sigh, “just…I think we should keep our distance from him. don’t you think? he’s trying to get in the way of our relationship,” he plays with your hair while you stare at the floor. “I don’t think so, he’s just being polite. he’s changed, you know,” you shrug. “if being polite means flirting with my girlfriend, then hell yes he’s being polite,” his voice slightly raised. “what’s your problem?” you suddenly outburst, staring at him with angry eyes. “what’s my problem? what’s your problem?! i’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you ever since the cafe meet up. I thought it was so weird that you would want to become friends with rafe, especially with how you were complaining about him to me throughout the beginning of our relationship!” he lets out with a huff. “it’s almost like you still love him,” he quietly says.

that set you off

“can you hear what you’re saying right now? why would I be with my ex who I had a complicated past with! you’re paranoid, rafe and I are literally just friends and I swear by that,” you plead with him. his shoulders slump, defeated. he says your name, “you don’t notice it, but I do. this whole ‘friendship’ rafe has with you is gonna blow up sooner or later,” he slams your door, leaving your house. your mouth agape, you collapse onto your bed, tears flowing from your eyes.

jason hasn’t answered his texts or calls. it was starting to irritate you, but at the same time, you understood his frustration. you decide to stop contacting him after a while, letting him cool down.

you were at brunch at the country club with your mom. she invited you after she noticed you were feeling down, claiming that the sunlight should cheer you up. a couple of people in your age group were also here, gossiping while eating a late breakfast. usually, you don’t listen to it, but then you heard the names rafe and jason, and you froze. your head shot up and you began eves-dropping the table next to you. you listened until they said something about a fight at a party last night, and even though there was a chance that it was just gossip, there might still be some truth in there. you reacted fast, dropping your fork. you tell your mom and rose that you aren’t feeling well, and they were more than understanding.

you ride your bike through figure eight until tannyhill comes into view. what are you doing? jason’s house is down the street, check on him. as soon as you know it, you’re running towards the front door of tannyhill. you knock on the door, harsher than you expected, and you’re greeted by ward. “good morning mr. cameron, is rafe home?” “uh—yes, he is, but…he’s not in the best shape,” he says gruffly. so it’s true. you stare at ward for a moment before finally speaking up again, “I was wondering if I can still see him? please, mr. cameron.” he thinks for a moment, before finally opening up the door, “he’s upstairs, in his room.”

you knock on rafe’s door before coming in. he’s laying down, holding an ice pack and putting in on his black eye. his good eye widens as he sees you running towards his bed, hugging him. “rafe, oh my god! what happened?” he lightly groans, and you pull away.

“your little boyfriend happened, that’s what,” his voice is strained. “but—why—” “he said something about me ruining your relationship,” you see him roll his eyes before continuing, “jealous fucker.”

you stand up, exiting his room and walking over to the balcony. you run a hand through your hair as you press the call button on jason’s contact, answering immediately this time.

you practically scream at him though the phone.

“what the hell is wrong with you? you get mad at me for being friends with rafe and then beat him up?,” on the other line, jason chuckles, “I knew it, I knew you still had a thing for him.” your body tenses up, “no I don’t, i’m saying this because you beat up one of your friends for your own delusions!” jason says your name, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “don’t play that game with me. I know what you and rafe did. you two slept together while I was away,” he scoffs, “heard from sarah. turns out she heard you two”

you go silent.

jason speaks up again, “anyways, we’re done, have fun with rafe. I hope he cheats on you again,” he hangs up.

you stand there, mouth agape, phone in your hand. things were happening too fast, you needed to sit down. before you know it, you’re stumbling into rafe’s room, face as pale as a ghost, and you lay down next to him.

“rafe, i’m so stupid,” you let out, he replies “yeah, sometimes you are, sweetheart.” he turns around, looking at you, holding your face with his free hand.

“he was a weirdo anyway,” you quietly speak, voice almost at a whisper.

you end up falling asleep on rafe’s bed. you wake up to him lightly playing with your hair. however, you keep your eyes closed, wanting to savor the moment. you really loved rafe. even though he treated you like crap throughout your relationship, you slowly realized that it was because that was the only way he knew how to love. him coming back made you realize that. and rafe never stopped loving you either. you open your eyes slowly and softly speak,

“I love you, rafe.”

[arahusk]

Husk is tired once he reaches the home’s front steps, and maybe a little grumpy. His ears were still ringing from static.

He ignores the deer antlers perched over the door, like a morbid holiday wreath. But it’s both typical and so very predictable, and after weeks of this routine, Husk is barely put off by it anymore. Its winding antlers are almost like a beacon of sorts, pulsing and calling out to him as he traverses the city’s streets to Alastor’s home. 

Part of the deal is to keep his boss company. Nightcaps and the sort. Husk knows it’s risky every time but the prospect of a drink is always hard to turn down. That, and his radio back at the casino is on the fritz lately, static and noise playing over the speakers in both long and short bursts that was giving Husk a headache. Which probably meant Alastor wanted him over there right now instead of two hours later. Jackass.

But maybe, in some ways, Husk also craves for a little company. He’s not ready to admit that just yet.

“Boss, you in?” he calls out, pushing open the creaky door into darkness. He has his own key and everything, even though Alastor would usually just summon him without any warning. Maybe to see Husk get pissed off, or maybe because he was really that impatient. “Got your fucking radio message. Ever heard of using a phone?”

The house is evocative of the abandoned homes that are the staple of any low-budget horror flick—with rotting floorboards, cobwebs in every corner, and skull paraphernalia decorating every available surface. It had been a shock to Husk at first, but now it was just a little blasé for his tastes. He now expects Alastor to put up creepy decorations like hanging plastic bats or wearing a witch’s hat to liven things up.

But he only sees the same thing, with the lights completely out. There’s a fireplace from across the room, the wood dry, the flames gone. 

And it’s Husk’s first hint that something is wrong.

Every instinct is telling him to run, an instinct that he usually fucking listens to. After all, it’s the only damn reason he stayed alive for so long until an unfortunate slip up made him end up here in Hell. (He does not want to think about it, so he’s going to stop that right now). His foot is already half out the doorway, his wings opened up, in case something tries to grab at him from the darkness.

Instead, he stays. Instead, he walks inside the house. A sensation, a sound, pulls at him to move forward, hidden in the shadows, even as his mind is screaming at him to leave.

But he doesn’t think it’s Alastor that’s going to pounce on him in the darkness. If he did, he might have felt less afraid—mildly. But the feeling keeps moving his feet to further inside the home, to hallways that sometimes shifted for his own boss’s shits and giggles. Husk lost count of how many times he had found himself in a long hallway with no doors to leave through, just for Alastor’s own amusement. 

But the shadows that move around him, some of them with eyes, are frantic. The hallways keep rearranging themselves until he feels he has been traveling for miles. But there’s always another door, always another deer skull hanging around, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to leave again once the home brings him to where he needs to be. 

He also keeps hearing that same radio signal from before—those short and long bursts, high-pitched and keening inside his head. It makes him shiver, makes him grit his teeth, but he keeps going forward, even as the sound makes him want to rip off his ears. It’s distant, but it’s growing, and he knows he’s getting closer the further he goes deeper into this house.

At one point, he finds himself on the stairs. Old, creaking stairs that were covered in mildew, where a few steps in-between were entirely missing. He walks up them with no question, his wings fanning out to hover any missing places for his feet. The stairs seem to lead in a spiral, and then the wood slowly, almost subtly, begins to turn to metal grates. Instead of mold, there is now rust, much of it covering the railing Husk occasionally uses. It makes his claws screech against it, whenever he lets his hand place itself on it.

The radio tower is supposed to be on the other side of Pentagram City. But Alastor’s home was always a place to rend apart reality to suit where he wanted to be, whether that’s a murky swamp or a glaring red tower where the frequency is always at an awful signal—and it was that awful signal bringing him up, always playing that same deformed patterns, over and over again.

But then, Husk finds himself at the top, and the red decor that makes up this place is almost all gone. It’s just dark, and it’s cold, and there is Alastor—

—and he’s kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room before a woman that Husk knows, because everyone knows who she is. 

There are nights when Husk tries to sleep, and makes sure his damn radio is off. But he still hears singing, floating on the air, and he can’t help but admit that the voice makes him feel some sort of hope that he should have stamped out years and years ago.

She’s so tall, regal and timeless, with sleek and black horns curving from her head to tangle along her golden hair. In her hands is a chain made of a light that there is no name for. She looks over at Husk, who has just appeared from the dark like nothing, first with a curious lift of an eyebrow—and then finally a light laugh. The melodic sound of it makes his heart race, fends off exhaustion from his limbs.

But then he sees Alastor again who is on his knees, whose head is bowed, and over his neck is a manacle that is so tight—and then the chain pulls upward.

And the movement makes Alastor lift his head and there is a flash of something that’s terrified and broken, and any music that lives in Husk’s head is suddenly gone in a flash.

He makes the mistake of talking.

“What’s…going on here?” His voice doesn’t even sound like his own. The tone is tight, stripped of everything. It’s as if some part of him knows that if he breathes wrong, it’s over.

“Oh, look, Alastor. Your friend is here.” The woman finally speaks, her eyes flicking over the chained Radio Demon. His head is still turned away, and only Husk notices then that his once neat red hair is frazzled, unkempt. 

At her tone, Alastor starts visibly shaking. His ears lay flat against his head, and Husk can even hear him breathe faster. “No.”

“You don’t believe me? But you must have heard him.” The woman smiles, something that Husk can still see, even in the dark. “It seems he’s finally caught us.”

Husk isn’t sure he wants to understand what she fucking means by that.

She bends down from her great height so she can place her hand over Alastor’s head—so grand that it looks as if she could crush the demon’s head with just her palm. Her fingers tap along Alastor’s cheeks, a thumb playing with his hair. “You should greet him. It’s only polite.”

And in Alastor’s voice, he hears something akin to terror. Panic. Shame. The radio filter is off completely, leaving no room for error to what Alastor feels, to what he’s experiencing.

“Wait, wait, no—”

“Now, come on.” A hand that grips the back of Alastor’s hair, and a pull of the chain that yanks him upward, enough to lift him just slightly off his knees. “Say hello.”

“Wait, stop it, I don’t-!” 

And then Alastor turns.

Husk sees a face that is finally bare of every glimmer, of every facade, of every blistering smile. Alastor stares back at him, under the pressure of both the hand and chain. In his eyes, steeped in red that is now so dark, there is an awful and silent cry. 

But in that silence, Husk hears something. It’s coming from deep within Alastor’s chest, the radio waves that had been missing from his vocal chords. But Husk hears it, those same long and short bursts of awful sound, all as Alastor keeps looking at him with widened eyes. Calling him.

Husk then realizes what he had been hearing over the radio back home: a corrupted form of an S.O.S signal.

--

Inspired by this art.

[salethe2]

Okay, so instead of sleeping, I'm here writing this, but I just had to share my thoughts on episode 7 and the relationship between Armand and Louis.

I'll probably need to rewatch the episode a few more times to fully grasp everything and maybe make another post but wow—episode 7 was absolutely devastating.

Okay, so starting with Louis… Honestly, I can’t even be mad at Louis anymore. Initially, I was yelling at my screen, wondering if he was just blind. Armand’s manipulations have become so blatant, yet Louis doesn’t seem to notice. Watching this episode, seeing how Daniel doesn’t even get angry or judge Louis or get angry at Armand like he did last episode—it hit me. Louis probably knows deep down that Armand is behind everything, but he’s in denial. Because, as twisted as Armand is, Louis feels he’s all he’s got left. And I think Daniel starts to see this towards the end of the episode. Sure, he still states the facts, as a journalist does, and makes it obvious that he knows Armand is hiding things, but he doesn’t call Armand a liar like he did last episode, he just listens, and is calm because what else can he do?

Not only is there manipulation going on from Armand, but Louis also remembers and tells the story differently from how it happened as a coping mechanism. Because as much as I’d like to blame Armand on everything, the changes in Claudia’s turning, and his fight with Lestat were done by Louis, so he is very much lying to himself.

And what can Daniel do? What would Louis do if the last thread holding him was cut? Can Daniel do that to him? Does he have the right to do that? Would he cause him even more pain by doing that? Because as much as Louis is ignoring the obvious manipulation, as soon as it all comes to light, that bubble will burst and there will be no going back. At the same time, Daniel is not excusing Armand. I mean, the look he gives him in this scene is so telling. His voice is soft and almost surprised. "Wow, you saved Louis. How nice of you." But the way he looks at him, it's as if he's saying, "I know this is all a lie and you're the one behind all this, but I'll play along for now." I mean he could have easily just asked Louis if all of this doesn’t seem weird to him, driven that point forward more like at the beginning of the episode or last episode, but he just says “but not her” and that small sentence nearly broke the bubble of ignorance around Louis but oddly enough Daniel stops there, does not push a bit more. (I guess we’ll wait and see if this remains the same next episode).

As for Armand…I mean, I love him, and I think he’s a is brilliantly written character because he didn’t just isolate Louis; he stripped away everything in his life, turned his heart further against Lestat, and crafted scenarios where, even if Louis confronts the truth about his manipulations, he’s still trapped. Because what can Louis do? Abandon the only semblance of connection he has left? Lestat remarked in this episode that anything is preferable to loneliness for a vampire. Consequently, Louis would rather turn a blind eye than sever the last tie he holds. Even when Louis considered ending it all—something he already tried before—Armand wouldn’t permit it. Louis can’t even challenge Armand, given the disparity in their power. So, what else can he do!!

As for wether or not Armand is a villain, I can’t really say without watching the last episode, but I will say that know it’s easy to label him as merely evil and manipulative—traits he undoubtedly possesses—but I beg to differ on the notion that he feels no remorse. Yes, he’s orchestrated some truly horrible acts, even gave himself a front-row seat to watch it all go down, but to say he harbors no regret? I don’t believe that’s entirely accurate. I think, in his own warped way, a part of him believes he’s helping Louis, possibly as a coping mechanism for his own guilt.

As for what he did to Madeleine and Claudia, it was downright horrible and he 100% meticulously planned it all, still, I suspect a sliver of guilt does linger within him—not specifically for what he did to them, but for the essence of his actions and the hatred towards the loneliness that’s shaped him.

I mean, we have to remember that this is a man who endured unimaginable horrors even before he was turned, and has lived in solitude for 500 years! Lestat, at 150 years old, moved a man to tears by sharing his loneliness. Can you imagine the depth of pain, loneliness, self-loathing, sadness, anger, and a myriad of other emotions this man has borne for half a millennium?

This isn’t to say that Armand’s actions are justified—far from it. But it does highlight the devastating impact of loneliness on vampires and how it can profoundly twist their minds. For 500 years Armand has been alone and the only light he saw through that darkness was to take this half broken man, take everything he had and make him as broken as him to make sure he would always be his. Again, this does not justify his actions, but merely explains them.

All of this being said, the presence of guilt, albeit slight, likely twists inside him. Armand might reinterpret this feeling as ‘helping’ Louis, keeping him blissfully unaware of the harsh truths as a way to alleviate his own conscience. Kind of like, “I know I did this horrible thing, but there was no way around it, and I hate myself for it—for being this way. But I have to keep this man by my side for his own good and my own, by any means necessary.”

Also, just adding this, can we take a moment to discuss the lighting in this shot? Notice how Armand's face is partially shadowed when facing Louis, yet the side that's illuminated is turned towards Daniel. Honestly loved the lighting in this entire episode.

Anyway, this is precisely why I believe Louis DID asked Armand to erase those memories in San Francisco

And why he remove the torn pages from Claudia’s journals. Because he prefers a life of blissful ignorance over the agony of truth.

Of course Armand willingly, and easily went along with all of this because it keeps Louis by his side, so it plays nicely into his manipulations. Still, I do believe that Louis did in fact ask him to erase those memories. Does his consent to all of this make it any better? If anything, it makes it worse. This is a man so ensnared and without any escape that he’d rather erase painful memories—those that remind him of the grim reality of his situation—than live with them. And Armand’s mind is so twisted that he probably convinces himself it’s all right. In his mind, as long as he has consent, he isn’t doing anything wrong.

Anyway, that’s all I have for now but honestly, Louis’s only real escape now is through Lestat. Otherwise, he needs to figure out how to outmaneuver the master manipulator himself—because I doubt Armand will let go without a fight.

[archie-sunshine]

sorry i love thinking about rodimus and drift's relationship and all it's complexities.

because like. it's not healthy. in the slightest. rodimus is actively using drift to justify his more negative behaviours. he literally talks about how he doesn't listen to either magnus or drift because one is too negative and one it too positive so he ends up being able to do what he wants.

there's also that one scene in the shadowplay arc where it's implied he starts calling drift slurs if he doesn't pick up his phone fast enough.

this scene btw

like obviously rodimus could be calling him anything but considering drift literally ends that statement with "anyways, let's move on" it's probably not the nicest thing. which is not indicative of a healthy friendship

but the thing is it kinda goes both ways. the lost light is a ship away from the rest of cybertron, drift is able to put some amount of distance between himself and his past and there's a sort of buffer that likely comes from being around rodimus

cause like. the thing is. drift isn't some sort of hippy chill guy. that's an act he puts on for everyone else. like he's still spiritual, that's a big aspect of his character, but he's still very much a morally grey guy. he's shown to have zero issues with throwing himself headlong into combat. there's one scene where he literally gets pissy at rodimus for kill stealing him

and in the sound of breaking glass which is the in between scene after the tyrest arc, we learn that drift doesn't leave for rodimus' reputation or his sake, he leaves for the rest of the crew.

quote

"When I put this sword through my spark, I saw something."

"What, like a vision?"

"Kind of. More a sense of how thing would play out. It was abstract and it was fleeting, and every time I call it to mind it becomes harder to interpret, but something is around the corner, Rodimus - and a year from now, or 50 years from now, that something will arrive, and we won't be able to stop it unless we find the Knights. And I don't care if you thin, 'Oh that's just Drift being Drift,' because I'm convinced that you need to remain in charge. People can come and go - they can die - but you have to be here, otherwise we will fail. And so the simple the solution - the only solution - is that I take the blame for this."

"I won't let you do this for me."

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for everyone else."

End quote.

i don't know. i feel like this conversation is really important to understanding drift and rodimus' friendship that a lot of people miss because sometimes they don't read the interlude's.

drift and rodimus are not a healthy friendship but neither of them are actively trying to hurt the other. it's a mutually destructive relationship not just rodimus trying to take advantage of drift while drift is blissfully ignorant. (i really hate how people woobify drift. he's not some uwu spiritual hippy who is ignorant of how bad of a person he is. he's putting on a persona for everyone else to make them more comfortable around him, even if it makes him miserable and/or devalues him as a person in the eyes of others. that's why ratchet is good for him, because he doesn't care. he likes drift for drift.)

and that's a thing a lot of people seem to misunderstand about rodimus. he's not like, willfully ignorant. he's painfully aware of how badly he's fucked up on so many levels. that's a key aspect of his character arc. he recognises that he needs to grow and change

anyways hopefully this doesn't come off as annoying. i just really like thinking about the characters in mtmte and i think that a lot of people tend to conflate a lot of fandom personalities with the canon ones. something something, that every 3 months people should have to reread the source material

I have said this to literally everyone i've asked to read mtmte, and i will say it again:

RODIMUS STRAIGHT UP SUCKS.

LIKE FOR A REALLY REALLY LONG TIME.

The whole point of the story is that rodimus is a less than great guy who demands too much of people, disregards them, uses them, etc. and then he LEARNS. through having a thousand rocks thrown at him! that he needs to stop sucking!!!

They both enable each other's worst qualities. they are FULLY bad for each other. I have a soft spot for that kind of thing sometimes.

... BEFORE they go through their own separate character arcs.

I agree with everything you've laid out, because you ARE right, however, I argue personally that POST CANON driftrod can be healthy. I have a whole fix it fic planned about it, i believe they should kiss, etc etc

Like i'm a driftrod defender and i can say for certain that their initial friendship is very very bad for both of them, but I can SEE the POTENTIAL of them both growing as people, having to do that separately, and being able to come back together happily.

BUT GENUINELY PLEASE DONT FIGHT ME ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS IM SCARED I DONT WANT TO BE INVOLVED IN SHIP WARS-

[lenacosse]

False god

pairing; jake peralta x reader

word count;

cw; smut, arguing

summary; reader gets extremely insecure and jealous, instead of talking it through her and jake argue which leads to fucking.



a/n: im backkkk. so sorry for the lack of posting for the last two months, ive been so preoccupied but i hope to get properly back now. also omg try not to make a post about a ts song mission= failed. can’t resist.

‘and you can’t talk to me when i’m like this

daring you to leave me just so i can try and scare you

you’re the west village

you still do it for me, babe.’

Your relationship with Jake wasn’t perfect, although to the eye of many that wasn’t obvious. You seemed utterly head over heels, and whilst that was the truth you, like any other couple had problems. But to the extent was not normal, most couples talk it out, that’s never been your method. The problem was Jake’s friendliness, before you got together you loved that about him, it was after all how you got together. You loved how he would talk to everyone, you loved how he made people laugh, but now that you sit in a crowded restaurant gritting your teeth watching your boyfriend make the waitress laugh, he told a joke, a joke first told to you, your gaze was fixated on him, the crease by his eyes as he laughed, the nod of his head as she spoke, but worst of all the prolonged eye contact they held and how her eyes glistened as they done so.

Swiftly you finished your wine, you cleared your throat and the waitress turned to you. You nodded your head to the empty glass, right away she excused herself with the glass to get you another.

“She’s lovely,” you grinned, the sarcasm seeping through your words.

“It’s the Peralta charm, she couldn’t help laugh at my joke,” Jake teased, resuming his meal. You near scoffed at the audacity of him, deep down you knew he was being harmless- a mere joke, but you couldn’t help the insecurity inside of you get the better of your mind. You and Jake have been together for two years, the longest you’ve both been with someone, your biggest fear is that Jake will get bored of you, so interactions like this had your mind running wild- reaching to the worst possible scenarios.

For the rest of your meal you were barely listening to Jake enthuse about his week at work, he talked about his perps, his drug busts and the banter within the precinct. Instead you were in your head, imagining the end of your relationship, more specifically Jake leaving you for someone much prettier and funnier. He’s never not been loyal, he’s never given you an reason to feel this way, yet you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t turn off your self sabotaging mind and that was a slow undeniable killer.

“Are you okay?” Jake said, snapping you back to reality, concern written over his face, his eyes gentle and comforting.

“I’m fine.” You replied. “Just tired.” You couldn’t shake the coldness of your words. Jake reached over the table to grab your hand, you sighed and moved your hand away, feeling too indifferent to talk about it. You could see the disappointment building in his eyes.

“Let’s go then.” Jake said as he stood up grabbing his jacket and pushing his chair in, you paid the bill and got into his car.

A deafening silence fell over you both for the first few minutes of the car ride, you didn’t know what to say, you were worried that if you started to talk you would end up fighting. The car stopped at the red light, you found your eyes wondering over to Jake, one hand on the wheel the other tapping on the dashboard as he starred out the window, his eyebrows were knitted together in a frustrated manner and his body was tense. He glanced at you and instantly your eyes hardened.

“What did I do to upset you this much?” Jake asked, his voice firm.

“Nothing.” You mumbled looking down at your lap.

“Then why are you acting like this? I don’t understand the night started great now you’re distant. Do you not like me anymore or something?”

The emotion in his voice had you heart aching, you couldn’t understand why your mind done this to you, from a rational perspective the interaction was harmless- maybe enough for you to sulk over, but not to this extent and you knew that. You nervously picked at you nails as you replied.

“Of course I do Jake- you know I love you. But it’s just..” you sighed, “I don’t know.”

He turned to look at you now, “just what?”

“You’re too friendly! That’s the problem.”

“Too friendly? What does that even mean?!” He laughed, you looked at him and instantly filled with rage.

“Don’t be stupid Jake. Don’t do that, you were flirting with that fucking waitress.”

The light went green and Jake drove again, his eyes were focused on the road as he spoke. “Flirting? Seriously. This again.” He sighed, “I’m not flirting with anyone.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, “it’s so fucking obvious! The fuck me eyes she was sending you, you’re not blind Jake anyone could have sensed it.”

“You’re seeing things. Seriously, tell me why would I do that?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!!”

“Maybe for once it’s not me, it’s you. You are the one causing the problem here not me.”

“As I recall you were the one flirting!” You fumed.

“Flirting or simply talking? Should I just stay away from all woman from now on?”

“You’re infuriating right now. Just fucking apologise.”

“For what?!” Jake raised his voice, “I didn’t do anything. I made me waitress laugh, you’re acting as if I asked for her number.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” You muttered.

“Really? You think I’d cheat on you.” Jake said as he parked the car outside his apartment complex.

You got out of the car slamming the door after you and Jake followed behind you. “Well would you?”

He punched in the code to open the complex door, you stood with your arms crossed walking with him. “What kind of question is that? Obviously not.”

You pressed the elevator button and stood beside him, arms crossed again and your body stiff with anger. “That’s not what I picked up on looking at you and that woman.”

“Y/N. I did not flirt with her. Get that idea out of your head.” Jake groaned, clearly becoming increasingly frustrated with you.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have that idea if you weren’t so fucking friendly!” You practically shouted. Your face flushed red with embarrassment as a couple walked out of the elevator, by the looks of your face you could tell they heard everything. The man gave Jake a sympathetic look which made you roll your eyes, his girlfriend elbowed him in response to that.

Jake walked into the elevator, you followed and pressed the floor number. “I don’t want to have this stupid conversation anymore. I didn’t flirt with her! And I’m not too friendly, there’s no such thing.”

“Oh yes there is. You are a prime example,” you scoffed as the elevator doors closed.

“You want to know what’s exhausting? This. I’m sick of you being so insecure.”

“Then break up with me.”

“What? No. Are you insane?”

“Go on. Do it. I know you want to, do it Jake break up with me.”

“I’d be crazy to break up with you.” Jake moved closer to you.

“I think you want to.” You starred into his eyes, deep down you’d be distraught if he broke up with you. But the thrill of keeping him on his toes outweighed that.

He grabbed your arm pull you closer to him. “Don’t say anything like that again. Ever.”

Your face flushed hearing him being so assertive, when Jake got this way you could swoon. You smirked and looked up at him. “Why? Does it bother you?”

“Everything you’re doing right now is bothering me,” he got even closer to you, your chest was pushed up against his front. “Trying to scare me off?”

“Is it working?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, you could feel Jake’s breath on your face, furthering the heat rising to your face.

“No.” Jake responded. He pushed you against the elevator mirror, your back hitting the rail. His hands firmly gripped your hips, sure enough to leave a bruise, your breath quickened as he lowered his head and smashed his lips to yours.

You got caught up in an intense moment, your hands went to his hair, pulling him closer as your leg rose to wrap around his waist. You were pushed right up against the mirror as you shared a hungry make out, his tongue fought and won dominance as it explored your mouth. One of his hands moved from your waist and hiked up your thigh and skirt. His finger edged to your panties, and started to slowly circle your clit. You gasped at the sudden pleasure, breaking the kiss. Jake kissed your neck however quickly stopped and moved away once the elevator door opened. You tried to fix yourself up and walk normally to his door, you impatiently waited as Jake opened the door, you could’ve swore he was being slow to tempt you. You walked in first, wasting no time you grabbed his tie, a rare thing to see Jake in and pulled him to you.

His hands met your waist, he smirked. “Eager?”

“Shut up.” You replied.

As you kiss Jake backs you into his room, pulling down your top to reveal your bra and down onto his bed. Using his tie again you pull him on top of you, you remove his tie and make a start at unbuttoning his shirt. His lips meet your neck as he marks you, his hand travels down your body resting in between your legs, he moved your underwear aside and shoves two fingers inside of you. You cry out at the abrupt movement but quickly it turns to an override of pleasure, Jake moves from your neck and watches your face as he roughly fucks you with his fingers, curling them to hit that perfect spot, as if that wasn’t enough he circles his thumb on your clit. The pleasure making your legs shake and vision blur, the sounds coming from your mouth were incoherent, your whole body was trembling in pleasure. The pleasure continuing to build you knew you were close, you felt yourself ignite and be overcome with pleasure but just as you were about to finish he pulled his fingers out.

“Jake-” you whined but was quickly stopped by his fingers going into your mouth. You sucked his fingers, you couldn’t help but heat up at the taste of yourself on his finger. Jake removed his fingers and kissed you hungrily, his hand moving to your breast and rolling your nipple in between his finger over your lacy bra. You pull his shirt off and break the kiss, to mark his collarbone.

“Marking territory?” Jake teased as his hand slipped under your and effortlessly undone your bra. As you pulled your head back he removed your top and bra.

“Seems as if I have to.” You scoffed, Jake grabbed your jaw.

“As I’ve said before I’d never cheat on you.”

You rolled your eyes in response, he let go of your jaw and moved to your ear. “We’re not leaving this bed until you realise it.”

His voice was enough to make you squeeze your thighs together but the words spoken had you stifling a moan. Jake kissed down your neck, you arched your back pushing your body up onto him, desperate for pleasure. You grab his hand and bring it in between your thighs, hoping for pleasure from him.

“What do you want?” Jake asks, his eyes bearing into yours.

“You.” You responded, biting your lip. You could see it in his eyes, he was tempted to take you right there but resisted, much to your dismay.

“Be more specific,” he slowly moved his finger to brush against your clit, you hissed at the sensation.

“I want you to make me cum with your fingers. Then,” you moved your hand into his hair, tugging. “I want you to fuck me.”

“So demanding. Not even a please?”

“Are you going to or not?” You raised an eyebrow, Jake smirked and inserted two fingers into you.

You senses once again filled with pleasure from Jake roughly moving his fingers, you moaned his name feeling the pleasure override you. Your legs trembled as using his thumb he rubbed your clit. A continuous thread of moans left your mouth as you came undone, you vision whitened as you released, your body going into a state of utter bliss. Jake removed his fingers and took your skirt off, your hands made quick work of removing his belt and trousers. You watched eagerly as his cock sprung out with the removal of his boxers.

You moved your hand down to slowly stroke him, he softly groaned in response. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders as he slid into you, your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you adjusted to him. Right away Jake began to pound into you, one of his hands held your thigh as the other gripped the headboard making him completely tower over you, you watched his face contorted in pleasure. The room filled with the sound of your bodies joining together and your lustful moans, you knew trying to conceal them wouldn’t work, so you let it happen, not that anyone would complain Jake loved the sound of your moans. Jake fucked you like he’s never done before you wouldnt’ve been surprised if your bodies left a permanent dent into the mattress, that was only furthered when he moved your legs to rest over his shoulders allowing him to go deeper. Your mind became numb with pleasure, the only thing you could focus on was the immense pressure between your thighs.

Jake pushed your chin up to look at him, your eyes were pricking with tears as you got closure to release. “Believe me now?”

“Not quite.” You moaned.

This only fuelled Jake more to the point where the bed was slamming against the wall and tears of pleasure were streaming down your face, you felt the pleasure override you.

“So close.” You moaned.

“Cum for me,” Jake said, his voice dripping with pleasure, that itself sent you over edge.

The euphoric sensation washed over you yet again, your vision blurred as your entire body shook, never had you felt this way before. Jake continued, cashing his own release as you slowly came down from that high, however it wasn’t long until you felt it building up again. Jakes movements got strained as he got closer, again you came and white hot pleasure overcame you. Jake came inside you, moaning into your ear. Slowly he pulled out and lay beside you. You both starred at the ceiling, catching your breath. He turned to you and tucked your hair behind your ear, you couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto your face as you turned to face him too.

“Believe me now?” Jake teased, stroking your cheek.

“I always did I was just in my head, totally worth it though,”

“Totally worth it though; title of your sex tape.”

“Jake.” You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him.

[khaleesiofalicante]

The blonde boy walked into the room, quietly humming a tune under his breath before plopping face-first onto the bed.

Kincaid stood there for a moment, watching Arthur. The long lines of his body. His gorgeous golden curls. His beautiful face buried among the dozen plushies on his bed.

Watching Arthur was one of his favorite things to do. Even when they met in the forest, sometimes Kincaid would simply sit there and watch while Arthur went on and on about something or other.

Kincaid didn’t mind. He wasn’t much of a talker. He liked listening to Arthur’s voice. He liked looking at Arthur’s face. He simply liked being in the same space as the other boy. It always made him feel like everything was alright in the world.

But it didn’t feel like that anymore. His world was crumbling because Arthur wasn’t there anymore.

And Kincaid was going to change that.

He stepped from behind the curtains, deciding to put an end to his lurking, and cleared his throat. “Arthur.”

The boy on the bed screeched, sitting up and throwing a toy in Kincaid’s direction. Kincaid caught the purple squishy octopus and awkwardly put it away.

“Kincaid!” Arthur gasped, putting a hand over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Kincaid explained, taking a careful step forward.

“So you broke into my room?” Arthur asked.

“The door was actually open,” Kincaid muttered. “But what else am I supposed to do, Arthur? You won’t talk to me.”

“Kincaid, we can’t—”

“We can’t even talk anymore?” Kincaid asked, his voice breaking.

Arthur didn’t respond. He simply looked away.

“I understand that you don’t love me anymore,” Kincaid said quietly, even though he didn’t understand it at all. “But you won’t even talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered, still not looking at him. “I’ve been busy. With school. And all these new people at the institute—”

“Is that it, then?” Kincaid asked, trying not to sound hopeful or relieved. “You’ve been busy?”

Arthur pulled at his scarf nervously. “Yes, well, there is also the fact that Lance doesn’t—”

“I don’t care what Lance thinks!” Kincaid groaned in frustration.

“You mustn’t say that,” Arthur shook his head worriedly. “The prophecy isn’t real, Kincaid. So, you two need to make up.”

“I don’t see that happening,” Kincaid snorted. “Especially from his side.”

“Then maybe you should try harder,” Arthur took a step closer to him, making Kincaid’s heart quicken.

“You do know you’re the only thing stopping Lance from ending my life?” Kincaid swallowed, trying to inhale sharply just so he could smell the citrusy scent on the other boy. “You’re the only reason I never fight him back.”

“Which is exactly why the two of you need to make up!” Arthur groaned. “I’m not going to be here forever.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kincaid frowned.

“Nothing,” Arthur turned away again. “I only meant that there is so much going on in the shadow world right now.”

“Arthur,” Kincaid whispered, reaching out for the boy and gently holding his arm. “It doesn’t matter what’s going on. I would never let anything happen to you.”

Arthur swallowed at that, his eyes dropping to where Kincaid was holding him. “Kincaid.”

“I would rather die than ever see you hurt,” Kincaid told him, wanting Arthur to know how much he still loved him. Would always love him. “You know that, don’t you?”

Arthur let out a shuddery breath, chewing on his lower lip. “I... You... You shouldn’t be here.”

“What?” Kincaid asked, unable to remove his eyes from the boy’s mouth.

“You shouldn’t be in my room,” Arthur explained nervously. “If my parents find out—”

“I’m not scared of your parents,” Kincaid huffed.

“Really?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Okay then. DAD—”

Kincaid put a hand over the boy’s mouth to shut him up immediately. The feel of Arthur’s lips against his hand made Kincaid feel a little dizzy. He wondered what flavored lip gloss Arthur was wearing today. He wondered if it would be too weird to remove his hand and smell it.

“Please don’t call your father,” Kincaid whispered, removing his hand and desperately trying not to do anything weird with it. “He threatened to turn me into a jellyfish if I spoke with you again.”

“I like jellyfish,” Arthur noted. “They’re cute.”

“What about me?” Kincaid couldn’t help but ask. “Do you still like me?”

Happy Summer Solstice and Happy Birthday Kincaid 🧡

[ninyard]

Darling as much as i support you going crazy over those fbi octonary characters I'm going to need more kevillison headcanons ok? Thanks

my gift to you:

- I mentioned before that they go to the banquets together post-TKM. Did I mention they match their outfits? Allison in a gorgeous long emerald green dress and Kevin with a green tie and handkerchief. The only colour that they don’t match is the one time Allison decides to wear a red dress - Kevin refuses to wear red with his suits, even if it’s on top of a white shirt instead of a black one. Not just at the banquets - if Kevin can at all avoid it, he doesn’t ever wear red.

- When it comes to hooking up, they have no shame around each other AT ALL. They have that kind of relationship, and they’re so on the same page about the FWB situation, that there’s literally nothing they won’t do or try with each other just for the sake of it. Worst one was when Allison was curious what it would be like if he spoke French to her. She INSTANTLY got the ick and had to stop. (Best one was sitting on opposite ends of the room and-)

- There’s a thousand different pics on several of the foxes phones of Kevin 1) carrying Allison because she got too lazy to walk 2) carrying Allison’s heels because they were hurting her feet and 3) wearing no jacket because he gave it Allison when she got cold.

- One time Kevin asks Allison to coverup his tattoo with makeup. He stares at his unmarked skin for so long before he has to ask her to take it off. He hasn’t seen his face without something on it since he was a kid.

- They’ve been each others new years kiss two years in a row. They’ve both promised it won’t happen again but. When the countdown starts and they’re standing next to each other? What ELSE are they supposed to do?

- (Most of the foxes pretend not to know that they’re hooking up. But they all know.)

- Allison is one of the only (if not the only) fox outside of Andrew or Neil that has ever actually asked him exactly what happened when he broke his hand. And not “oh Riko kicked it until it stopped working the end”. She asks him to talk her through the day, while tracing over the scars on the back of his hand. Kevin tells her too much (in his opinion) but she listens to every detail. She asks him about Jean, about the drive to find David, about the healing process afterwards. He hardly looks at her at all when he talks about it, but he doesn’t feel uncomfortable sharing it with her.

- She’s talked him through a panic attack once or twice.

- When Kevin starts getting into hobbies outside of Exy, and tries his hand at photography, she is ALWAYS willing to model for him. Granted, he mostly just takes photos of mundane life and beautiful things, not staged photo shoots, but she will never, ever tell him not to take a photo of her. Yes mostly because she loves photos of herself, but she also sees how his face lights up when he takes a nice one, and she loves seeing him passionate about something other than Exy.

- This is an actual picture of them. got sent it via the interdimensional portal I opened.