#i have realized even if i can open into a normal new tab i still wont be able to download it as a gif bc fucking webp files

[leopardsealz]

thought i might try & make a stimboard for fun but tumblr hates me

[am-i-interrupting]

Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.

Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink

He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.

Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.

He was angry.

He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.

Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.

He recognized you. Why?

He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.

Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.

He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.

You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.

He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.

He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.

Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.

It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.

He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.

“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.

“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.

“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.

“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”

He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”

You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.

You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.

“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”

“To have a good time.”

“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”

The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.

“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.

“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”

“It’s one I play often.”

“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”

Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.

He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.

Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.

“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.

“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”

“I am not—“

“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”

For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.

He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.

He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.

He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.

He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.

He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.

He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.

He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.

“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”

“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”

“Contracted?”

“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”

You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.

“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”

“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”

He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“

“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”

You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.

His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.

You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.

“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.

He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.

The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.

Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.

“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said.

“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”

“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”

“True, but—“

You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.

“Oh, fuck.”

“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”

“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”

“I could be.”

You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.

You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”

You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.

You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.

He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.

He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.

You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.

“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.

“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”

You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”

He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.

You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.

“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”

“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.

Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.

“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”

You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.

“Good,” he choked out.

You hummed against his skin.

He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.

You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.

“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.

A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.

He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.

He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.

You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.

“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”

“Oh fuck.”

You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”

His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”

“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”

You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.

You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.

You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.

Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.

He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.

Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.

He could cum from just this alone.

However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.

“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.

“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”

The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.

He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.

You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.

You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.

Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.

You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.

“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.

His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.

When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.

He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?

God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.

“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”

“Fuck, please don’t.”

“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.

“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.

You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.

You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.

“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”

“Fuck.”

He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.

He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.

You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.

The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.

A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.

You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.

“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”

You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”

He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.

He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.

“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.

Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.

He rolled your clit between two knuckles.

“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”

He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.

He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.

Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.

“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.

He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?

“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.

“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.

“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.

“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.

He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”

“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.

A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.

That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.

The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:

I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction

You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention

I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be

He’s down on his knees begging me with please

Better than any of his fantasies

Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction

[modelbus]

Hello!! I LOVE your writing, like I’m obsessed! So, I can’t tell if your requests are open, buttt if they are, I would DIE for some fluff turned to angst of a fem!reader who is in a group with cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy nicknamed the chaos squad by the fandom, where she is the least popular in the group and a rumour spread that shes only in it for the popularity, so they slowly stoped inviting her to streams and vlogs and ghosting her.

it could start with like three two sentence stories about the group (or something), how it was formed just fluffy moments, and then be like “but it didn’t stay like that for long..” and explain why she was subtly kicked from the group before a scene where shes streaming and gets asked about why shes not been in any videos anymore.

PHEW that was ALOT, if its to long you can obviously shorten it or just not do it- but if requests are open and you like the idea, I would love to see something like this!! <3

PS. You are super cool, keep up the amazing work!! (When you want to ofc)

-✨🌌🌙 Anon

Thank you so much! I tried my best to include everything :D This literally took me out of my writing slump

Part 2 :)

Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Cut Chaos

The feeling of belonging was something nearly everyone chased after. After all, being out of place was simply… lonely. And, somehow, you found yourself slotting into the weirdest place in the world.

A handful of stupid friends.

You always found yourself drawn to dumbasses, in the most affectionate way. Like looks for like, you suppose. And shit, did you find some people that could make you cry laughing even on the worst days.

Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, Tommy. Four people that made the sun rise every day, that dragged you out of bed for the stupidest vlogs to ever exist. Fans adored the five of you together so much that you got a group name for the first time in your career: the Chaos Squad.

Truly, it was a fitting name. The things that the five of you got up to, you’re certain no normal sane person would do. But, well, your job as a streamer already set you apart from the category of “normal” a long time ago, so you definitely didn’t mind the messes you got into with them.

From Tommy dragging the group to an abandoned island, saying it’d be fun to try to escape (you fell out of a tree and Wilbur sprained his ankle), to screaming along at Lovejoy concerts, it felt like the five of you were unstoppable.

And God, did you love them. It didn’t matter how many times Ranboo hit his head on things, you’d still laugh. It didn’t matter that you literally passed out from laughing so hard once, you were still happy. Pure, unfiltered love.

The five of you against the world, forever. You could see it, in those sunny days where you grinned so hard your cheeks hurt (they were the first ones to make you do that—the realization only made you grin harder). The perfect idea of happiness.

Was it any wonder things didn’t stay that way, that perfect, for long?

A rumor.

It always seemed to start with one of those, nowadays. A simple murmur among fans that grew and grew, until you were closing out of twitter at 2, 4, 5 AM, debating if you should just delete the app and put your status on “Do Not Disturb.”

You accepted the fact that being a female content creator was going to be a struggle a long time ago. It was a fact, something you knew you couldn’t avoid, especially in gaming. Having rumors about you online wasn’t new. It would never be new, not as long as you were yourself.

But you thought you’d be past caring about them by now. You thought the tight panic that gripped your heart, made it hard to breathe, was a thing of the past. So stupid.

One private account turned into multiple threads, turned into trends on the trending tab.

Everyone thought you were using your friends, the chaos squad as a whole, just to boost your career. To leech off anyone’s subscribers, just for some money in your pocket.

The idea made you sick to your core.

How dare they? How dare they ever think you didn’t genuinely care for the four? That they were anything less than the lightness in your heart, the freedom on your mind?

Rumors.

You ignored them. Even the thought of addressing them made you feel pissed off like you’ve never been before. It was such an absurd idea! At the very least, you knew your friends would see past the hateful people.

Right?

It starts with an unanswered message in the group chat.

Unanswered messages weren’t new. A stray comment tended to get lost in the general mess that the group chat was, so you weren’t concerned. Just laughed to yourself quietly; it wasn’t important anyways, just a photo of a cat you saw.

Until it happened again. And again. Until more of your messages went ignored than responded to, until the group chat had less and less messages each day.

When the first vlog comes out, the process repeats. It’s on Tommy’s channel, of course. Him, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Wilbur. The chaos squad, just without you. It surprised you, because you never even realized they filmed a video, and normally all of you share upcoming videos.

All the warning signs were obvious, and you were too much of a damn fool.

You filmed one vlog with them after that, exploring a supposedly haunted house, before you woke up a month later and realized you hadn’t talked to them in a week.

One week turns into two, two into three, until you’ve realized what’s happened. You were gone, out of the picture. Happiness had slipped through your fingers faster than you could’ve ever comprehended, and now you were in a dark room—literally.

But what could you do? If they didn’t want you, there was nothing you could do to stop the unraveling of your universe.

So you did the same thing you did before them, defaulting back to what was safe: streaming alone.

Today, it’s just a mindless game. Yesterday was the same, and fuck, this isn’t the same anymore. Not when you don’t have Tubbo in the chat sending messages, or Wilbur using Text-To-Speech.

But you’re here, still streaming. Still going, no matter how tempting it is to just shut off your computer and pretend the last months of your life never happened.

There’s always fans though, and if anything cheers you up, it’s them. So your donations are on, allowing them to be read aloud while you play the silly little unpacking game.

“Where am I putting the diploma guys? Where does this go?” You ask, mouse hovering over the virtual object. “Maybe I’ll just put it under the pillow…”

“StarEmojis donated $15! If up is down and yes is no, how many sides does a triangle have?”

“Thank you, but… uh...” You narrow your eyes at the message. “None, it’s a circle?”

Shrugging, you drag the diploma in the game to under the pillow. The riddle sounds familiar, but not one you know the answer to. It sounds like something Wilbur would send in the group chat at 2 in the morning, honestly.

With that thought in mind, your eyes flicker over the user that donated it. StarEmojis. Not Wilbur.

You’re so stupid for hoping. For the jump in your heart, for the frantic searching.

“StarStarMoon donated $20! Why aren’t you in any Chaos Squad videos anymore? Love you!”

Air catches in your lungs, dread swelling in your chest as your hands still on the mouse and keyboard. That shouldn’t have gotten past the moderators, but it did.

And now you have to answer it.

It wasn’t like you could tell the truth: that you weren’t good enough. That even your best friends didn’t believe you over rumors from strangers online.

Any lie would have a chance of getting back to them though. Not that you can imagine them caring, not anymore.

You swallow past the lump in your throat that’s killing you, taking a breath in before answering. One chance to get the fans to move on, one chance to find the impossible balance between the agony inside of you and cool indifference.

“We’re all just busy.” You say, forcing a smile on your face.

It’s true, at least. Everyone is busy. Everyone except you, that’s it.

“Just scheduling problems. Wil- Wilbur has Lovejoy practices and performances.” You stumble over his name. Did you even have the right to call him Wil anymore? “And Tommy is just always busy. He’s the busiest person, I swear.”

Is that true anymore? You don’t know. He used to be, but you used to help force him to take breaks. Was he taking breaks? You’ll never know.

With another forced smile, you give a half-hearted shrug. “So yeah, just busy, don’t worry guys.”

It’s with baited breath that you wait, eyes scanning chat to see if they bought it. From what you’re seeing, they have.

“Now we need to reorganize these clothes, because they’re killing me like this—“

Your discord pings quietly on another monitor, and you scramble to open it. Just your mods apologizing for letting the donation go through. You send a quick message back to them before pushing the donation to the back of your head just like everything relating to the group you’re no longer part of.

What could you do, anyways?

This was out of your control.

[miel-ji]

All I Ever Wanted

Genre: fluff, roommates to lovers, one bed trope, gets kinda angsty for a second

Paring: Non-Idol!Felix x Reader, Friend!Changbin and Hyunjin

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: slight jealousy, some language

Summary: Your roommate Felix has the idea to take his best friends on a beach trip. You instantly agree, loving the idea and you quickly plan it all.

A/n: I thought it’d be fun to try writing more from the member’s perspective this time, and it was so fun that I might’ve gotten a little carried away. It was originally supposed to be pure fluff, but the writing process had other plans lol

Felix has been craving a beach trip with his best friends (you, Hyunjin, and Changbin), so he jumped at the first opportunity that all of your schedules aligned. He grew up by the beach, so he often longed to be there. Even though the beaches here weren’t the same as Australia, they still helped combat his homesickness just a little. Some of the best memories he has are of him at the beach, and he wants to make new ones now with the best people in his life.

He approached you first with the idea since being roommates meant you were only a door away. His steps were light as he practically bounced down the hall to your door, and he rapped his knuckles against it a few times before calling out to you, “y/n!” His voice held a sing-song quality to it as he said your name.

“Yes?” You called out from your spot on your bed. It was getting late into the night, and you had already settled down. You were fresh and bare faced, and you were wrapped up in your blankets with a plushie resting in one arm and your laptop resting on your lap. You were trying to finish up some work, but you couldn’t help but lose focus as you switched between tabs that were completely irrelevant to the work.

“Can I come in?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Felix had an impossibly wide smile as he was buzzing with excitement from what he was going to propose to you. It didn’t even cross his mind that you might say no because the only thing that was filling his mind were all the things he wanted to do with you there. He stepped into your room and softly closed the door behind him before turning on his heel to face you. When you peered up at him from your laptop, he noticed how cozy you looked which momentarily relaxed his racing heart.

He noticed the plushie that you were cuddling and recognized it as the one he got you for ‘Palentines Day’. You had been a bit upset about not having a Valentine this year despite the guy down the hall having a very obvious thing for you who would’ve jumped at the chance to take you on a date. Not that Felix wanted you to go on a date with him since he was simply not good enough for you. Still, Felix wanted to do something nice for you, and when he saw the cat plushie with its rosy cheeks and playful smile, he immediately thought of you. He prayed you wouldn’t read too much into it when he gave it to you, and he prayed you wouldn’t notice that he just gave his other friends a home baked cookie as their gift. But the long hug you gave him when you opened it and the sight of you cuddling it now was worth the risk.

“What’s up, Lix?”

He realized he’d been staring when he let himself get lost in that memory, and he felt a little heat bloom across his cheeks. “Um,” he huffed out a little laugh, trying to shake away the flusteredness. “I have an idea…” he wore his big signature smile, showing off his pretty teeth again.

You mirrored his smile, always loving any idea that he came up with. “Lay it on me,” you patted the spot beside you on the bed to signal for Felix to join you. Skinship was normal in all of Felix’s friendship, so it really didn’t seem like a big deal when Felix made his way over to the bed and crawled in with you. But Felix’s heart didn’t flutter with his other friends the way it did now when you rested your head on his shoulder, nor did his stomach do flips with his other friends the way it did now when he felt your legs brush against his.

“Let’s go to the beach,” he breathed out, not wanting to wait any longer to finally spill his idea. “You and me…” He paused without realizing it, “and Changbin and Hyunjin, of course… the whole friend group.” He gulped while waiting for your response just now realizing that rejection could be imminent.

But then you replied in your sweetest voice, “I’d love that,” and Felix could feel everything falling into place. He giggled and turned to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, placing his chin on the top of your head.

“We’re going to have so much, I promise. I gotta go call the others now.” But Felix didn’t make any moves to get up from the hug for a second longer as he gave you one more squeeze. Finally, he released you and climbed out of your bed before slipping out of your room. He paused at the door, “goodnight, y/n,” he said softly.

“Night Lix,” you offered a small smile and returned to the position you were in post- Felix. His eyes drifted back to the plushie in your hold, silently wanting to replace it with himself, but instead he closed your door and padded off to his room.

~~~

Today was the day that you were finally going to get away. You’d all planned to go early in the morning, and Felix was struggling more than he thought he would. You had made him some coffee when he stumbled out of his room and into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. His black messy hair was sticking up everywhere, and he could still barely open his eyes as you handed him the warm mug.

He flopped down in one of the chairs at the small kitchen table and accepted it gratefully. You waited to speak to him as he slowly sipped his coffee and let the warmth settle in his bones. He hummed in appreciation and slowly opened his eyes, now fully awake. “Better?” you asked playfully, but he just nodded, the strands of his hair that were sticking up danced along with the movement.

“Much, thank you,” the sleep still in his voice making it sound even deeper. Fondness overtook you, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching across the table to place your hand over his that still rested against the warm coffee mug. Somehow you missed the way Felix stilled under your touch, and he looked into your eyes. You stayed like that, sharing the nice peaceful moment in the kitchen until a knock at the door interrupted you.

Felix cursed his friends in his head for ruining this moment for him while you pulled away and stood up to answer the door. “I’ll get it. You just worry about making yourself pretty.”

“I’m already pretty,” Felix rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself.

“Of course you are, Lix,” you ruffled his hair as you walked past him, and his pout immediately changed to a smile. Felix sighed and slinked off to his room to get ready while you greeted your friends at the door.

When Felix joined you in the main room with everyone a little later, the first thing he noticed was how close you were sitting to Changbin who was showing you something on his phone. Rationally, he knew that you and Changbin were just really close friends. You’d all met in university and managed to maintain a friendship that only grew stronger over the years. But he also knew Changbin was extremely attractive and such a gentleman that he couldn’t blame you if you had developed feelings for him. He really admired Changbin, and he even took inspiration from him in many ways. You deserve someone like him.

Felix thought how silly he was for assuming things though. You were all friends here, and he should stop reading into things just because he caught a little crush on you. Except was it just a little crush if he’s been feeling this way for almost a year now? If you’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last thing he thinks about when he sleeps? If he could spend every moment with you and never get tired, and miss you the second you weren’t with him anymore?

He longed to tell you all of this, but he couldn’t help but think about what would happen if you didn’t feel the same. He didn’t want to ruin your safe space that was the apartment by tainting it with the awkwardness of unrequited love. Knowing you, you’d have let him down softly and found a way to keep being friends, but he also wasn’t sure he was ready for things to change.

So he kept all of this bottled up inside and strode fully into the room to make his presence known. He greeted Hyunjin, but his eyes kept sliding back to you and Changbin that were still in your own little world. “You finally ready, Felix?” Hyunjin teased and stood up to hug him.

Felix laughed, “I didn’t take too long, did I? Had to look pretty per Y/n’s request.” You were finally looking his way, so he took the opportunity to wink at you before greeting Changbin. “Is the car ready?”

“Yeah, just need to pack your and Y/n’s things. There’s not much room since Hyunjin needed to pack two bags.” Changbin shot Hyunjin a glare.

“Two bags? We’ll be gone for literally two days,” you said incredulously.

“Um, yeah, but I need to make sure that I have day outfits, night outfits, books, journals, paints, different pairs of shoes-“ Hyunjin said as if you were being the ridiculous ones before Changbin cut him off.

“And that was after negotiating down from three!”

Now you were all laughing as Hyunjin just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you’re still buying me coffee in the mornings while we’re there since you’re basically asking me to rough it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s your bag Y/n? I’ll help you carry it to the car.” Changbin offered.

“Thanks, but I got it, Binnie. I’ve been hitting the gym too, see?” You flexed your arm with your practically non-existent muscle, but Changbin still poked and prodded at it pretending to be impressed.

Felix lips tightened into a line. He couldn’t keep feelings this way. “Already on it!” He called before rushing to both of your rooms to grab the bags before anyone could protest. He groaned a little at the weight of both your bags he bore on his shoulders, of course you both weren’t light packers, before trudging his way to the car.

You followed behind him, feeling a little bad that your hands were free while he carried everything, but he just smiled your way. “We should go to the gym together sometime.”

“Okay, we should,” you agreed, and the weight on his shoulders suddenly felt a little lighter. You finally made it out to the car, and you called out ‘shotgun’ at the same time as Hyunjin. “Rock, paper, scissors,” you suggested while already holding out your hands in position. Felix hated it, but he was secretly hoping you lose so you’d sit in the backseat with him. The first round was a tie, and Felix chewed his lip as you both shook your fist preparing to throw the next one. The second round was another tie, and Felix practically whined from the tension while Changbin raised an eyebrow at him to question why he was so invested. On the third round, Hyunjin threw rock as you threw scissors, and Felix was doing a little victory dance in his head.

Hyunjin broke your scissors with his rock, “ha, I win.” He taunted proudly. You just stuck out your tongue at him as he cackled and climbed in the passenger seat.

“Guess you're stuck with me,” Felix gave you a lopsided grin and lightly nudged your shoulder with his.

“We’ll have our own fun,” you linked your arms briefly, narrowing your eyes in Hyunjin’s direction before walking to the other side of the car to get in. Felix just laughed to himself. Your and Hyunjin’s friendship consisted of bickering like a married couple, but he knew it was all just out of love.

“Okay, is everyone ready?” Changbin adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and looked around to check everyone had on their seatbelts. He threw the car in drive, and Felix was feeling more energized than coffee could ever make him from finally taking this trip.

You, however, were still sulking in your seat a little with your lips pursed as you stared out the window at the world going by. Felix scooted a little closer to you from his seat and poked you in your side to get your attention, “Y/n, you’re pouting.” You jumped slightly when he touched you making him giggle before you turned to him.

“I just wanted control of the music…” Changbin always let whoever was in the passenger seat be the DJ, and while Hyunjin’s taste in music wasn’t bad, you just thought yours was better.

“I have an idea. Here, let me see your phone.” You handed over your phone hesitantly while Felix fished in his pocket for something. He pulled out a wad of white cord that you recognized as wired earbuds and wrinkled your nose teasingly. “What? They’re for the aesthetic,” Felix said while plugging the lightning adapter into your phone.

“They really are,” Hyunjin remarked from the passenger seat.

“Oh, you just hush and listen to your music,” you answered.

“Kk,” he blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch in midair, and threw it back at him. He shrieked and pretended to dodge while turning back around.

“Hey, stop throwing stuff in my car!” Changbin played along.

Felix was glad to see that you had thrown the kiss back instead of keeping it, but then he shook his head at how ridiculous the thought was. Once he untangled the earbuds, he handed you one and stuffed the other in his ear before handing you the phone to play music. The cord had a good distance to be able to sit in your seats respectively, but you still slid a little closer in the seat; your pinkies occasionally brushing each other.

You chose a song, and Felix knew it was the song that you’d been playing all the time around the apartment that week. The memories of you dancing around to it as you cooked or cleaned, sometimes even coaxing him to join you, playing in his head, and he turned it up just a little bit louder. The rest of the car ride was spent like this, your heads tilted towards each other with the shared music playing in your ears. Somewhere along the way though, your pinkies had become entwined not even remembering who had made the move to close the distance.

~~~

When the car came to a stop, it was about midafternoon, and everyone was feeling stiff from having spent a couple hours in the car. When you had stopped for something to eat earlier, you all decided to head to the beach first before the hotel to really soak in the first day of your trip. “We’re here!” Changbin announced to the car as you sat up and handed back the earbud to Felix. You looked down at your pinkies linked together, and you wished that you could take a picture of the moment.

“Thank god!” Hyunjin swiftly exited the car, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped to his knees and started kissing the ground. Instead he stretched by the car and urged everyone to hurry up.

Felix didn’t want to be the one to unlink your pinkies, so he waited for you to move. However, after Changbin had also excited the car and a stifling silence entered, you still procrastinated leaving. He wasn't even sure if you were aware of the position of your hands as you seemed to be just admiring the beach from your window. That was until you squeezed his pinkie with yours to signal you were before finally exiting the car and thoroughly leaving Felix speechless.

You had all walked to the edge of the shore as a group, but Hyunjin plopped himself in the sand a few feet away from the water to draw while Changbin did the exact opposite. He practically threw his towel and shirt on Hyunjin as he rushed into the ocean laughing and splashing in the water. It wasn’t exactly summer yet. It was the weird weather inbetween that was warm enough to go for a dip, but the water was still ice cold. That didn’t seem to bother Changbin who waded out in the water up to his thighs and waved at you from the shore. You forgot to wear a bathing suit (which was a great oversight on your part as you thought about it tucked away in your bag), and you just opted to remove your sandals and dip your toes in the sand instead. You stood there, and let the tide wash over them and cause you to sink further in. You closed your eyes and basked in the fresh sea breeze through your hair and the warm sun on your face when you felt an even warmer presence by your side.

You looked over at your perfect view that was Lee Felix. He was gazing back down at you, and you studied the constellation of freckles that dusted his face. You had the urge to take his face into your hands and press kisses to every last one, but instead you continued to admire him. The soft lines of his face and the upward curls of his lips. The way his black hair still shined under the sun and his bangs that framed his dark cat-like eyes.

You were so entranced by him that you almost didn’t notice the way he was admiring you in the same way, and the beach was left forgotten in front of both of you. You reached your hand out to take his pinkie again, and Felix didn’t hesitate in wrapping his around yours. The smile that lit up his face once you were in his hold again was enough to make the sun jealous. Your own smile played across your lips, and you gazed out at the clear sparkling water that stretched out into the horizon. The view was consistent peaceful scenery until Changbin’s muscular frame cut through the water, still splashing around and having fun.

You heard a ‘click’ come from behind you, and turned around to be greeted by Hyunjin squinting through his camera lens that was pointed at you both. “Don’t mind me, go back to looking at the water holding hands. It was a cute scene. Changbin, get out of the frame! You’re ruining the shot!”

Hyunjin walked off to continue yelling at Changbin who just argued back to take pictures of him instead. Felix looked down at your pinkies still hooked together, partly trying to conceal the pink tint on his cheeks Hyunjin’s words caused, but he disagreed. The scene was perfect, and he made a mental note to ask for the picture later from Hyunjin.

~~~

When you all arrived at the hotel that night, the moon had taken its shift in the sky with a blanket of stars joining it. You had spent the rest of the day at the beach modeling for Hyunjin’s photography, burying Changbin in the sand, and then having a sand castle building contest with you and Felix as a team. You still believe that you won since Felix had helped you find the perfect shiny little seashells in the water to decorate it with. Felix was more than satisfied with the day knowing that he’d get wonderful sleep tonight replaying all the events at the beach. His favorite by far was when the sun had started to set, and the whole scenery had changed from a bright blue to warm oranges and dusty pinks. Everything had taken on a golden glow, and when he saw it reflected in your eyes, he felt nothing but pure happiness in that moment.

You were going to stay and look at the stars on the beach as well, but everyone was ready to find somewhere to eat dinner and get to the hotel to shower off the sand. When you arrived at the hotel, you made it a point to get out of the car before all the rest to grab your bag before anyone offered to carry it for you. You were a grown woman, dammit, and you were perfectly capable of getting your own things. As your group shuffled into the hotel lobby, you could tell you were all a little exhausted from your sagging shoulders and droopy expressions. You all agreed beforehand that in order to save a bit of money, you’d share rooms. You decided it was easiest just to keep the roommates how they already were: Changbin and Hyunjin, and you and Felix. You didn’t mind having to share with Felix because he was a considerate roommate, and he was very respectful of boundaries. Besides, when you had booked the rooms for everyone, you made sure the bathrooms would have plenty of space to get ready in and you each had your own bed.

Everyone checked in at the front desk, and you slipped the keycard into your pocket, not trusting Felix to keep up with. You weren’t much better with not forgetting things, but Felix managed to lose it or get locked out every. single. time. It was honestly cute how he’d blow up your phone pissed off about how they made the keycards so small and forgettable. Other times, he would FaceTime you and want you to keep him company until someone would finally let him back into his room. These were the nights that you stayed up late to talk because he would use the excuse that you were already in the middle of something, so you should just stay on the phone.

You were all silent as you made your way up to your rooms that were only a couple doors away from each other, lost in thoughts about a warm shower to cleanse the sea salt still lingering on your skin. You said your goodnights to each other by uttering agreeing mumbles and nodding from your door ways before pushing them open and slipping inside. Felix let you enter first following close on your heels in the narrow hallway that led to the rest of the hotel room, and he crashed into you as you came to a sudden stop. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Felix quickly grabbed your hips to steady you, letting his own bag fall from his shoulder, when he noticed your expression. He followed your wide-eyed stare into the room, and he realized what caused your reaction.

There was only one bed.

Felix froze behind you as well, and his brain shut down, not thinking about what this would mean. You cleared your throat and turned to face him not realizing he was still so close that there were barely inches between you. You took a step back which caused Felix to do the same scared that you were feeling uncomfortable. “I- I swore I booked a room with two beds…” You spoke softly with your gaze cast on the ground and your brows furrowed.

“Oh…I- It’s totally fine. I can just go bunk with Hyunjin.” Felix quickly scooped his bag from the floor already backing away towards the door. “Don’t even worry, we’ve shared one befo-”

“You can stay…” You cut him off, and Felix’s mouth was slightly parted, still stuck on his last train of thought as he processed what you had just said. “I just mean, it would be unfair to ask that of you…” you gestured to the bed behind you as you said this, “There’s plenty of room, and their room would be too crowded with three people. Just stay…” You smiled at him reassuringly and Felix could feel his apprehension dissolve slightly.

“Are you sure? That chair doesn’t look too bad. I could just-” Felix was referring to the flimsy office chair parked under the desk in the corner of the room.

You laughed slightly, “Felix, it’s fine. We’ve fallen asleep on the couch together before. It’s not like you do taekwondo in your sleep, right?” Felix chuckled at this, and he was glad that you weren’t bothered by the predicament you were in. You were being your usual positive self, making Felix laugh, and relaxing him as always. However, it wasn’t like that time you had fallen asleep together on the couch at all, and you both knew it. The couch was on the smaller side, so you were able to share a blanket; however, you both slept at opposite ends. This time there will only be an arms length in between you, and Felix chose not to think about that right now.

However, he could no longer avoid it. You’d both taken longer than necessary showers to try to procrastinate the inevitable, and Felix had to place two fingers against his neck several times to check his pulse as he listened to you blow-dry your hair. He was sitting in the office chair in the corner trying to focus on the game on his phone when the noisy blow dryer ceased. A couple of minutes later, you walked out from the bathroom finally ready for bed, and Felix had to fight even harder to keep his eyes glued to his phone screen. He heard the rustling of the sheets as you climbed into the bed, and the light from your side of the room blinked out. He wondered how you could just go to bed just like that. But you rolled over on your side to face him, and he saw in the soft lamp light from his side of the room that you were looking at him.

“Are you coming to bed soon? It’s past midnight at this point,” You tried your best to say that flippantly, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t just as flustered at the idea of sharing a bed with Felix.

Felix cut off his phone, and he slowly nodded before dragging his feet over to the edge of the bed. He swallowed continuously and hoped his hands weren’t shaking as he peeled back the covers. He couldn’t help the snail-like pace he was moving in because he really couldn’t even believe what was happening. But there was no denying it as he slid into the bed next to you where the smell of your sweet shampoo greeted him. You were still turned on your side watching him calmly with your hair splayed across your pillow. “Do we need to do the whole ‘put pillows in between us’ thing?” Felix asked and laughed nervously.

You laughed at his comment, and Felix was already trying to think of another one just to hear that sound again. It was his favorite song after all. He shifted on his side to face you as well, making sure to be as close to the edge without falling off as possible. “No, no. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” You smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair before your arm disappeared beneath the blanket once again. From the simple touch, Felix felt a wave of calmness wash over him. “Do you mind turning off the light, Lix?”

“Right, my bad,” he smiled sheepishly and turned off the lamp that was on his bedside table. The room was immediately plunged into darkness. Felix’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the shadows that were swimming in front of him slowly took shape of the hotel room, the bed, and you. “Hey, Y/n?” A small smile crept up on his lips as he tasted your name on his tongue.

“Hm?” The blankets were pulled up over your shoulders, and you had a hand resting under your cheek as you were still turned on your side to Felix.

“Did you have fun today?” The question held vulnerability and sincerity as Felix genuinely wanted you to have had just as much fun today as he had with you.

“Actually, can I tell you something?” You asked with the same vulnerability in your question.

Felix’s heart sped up as he dared to hope, “always.”

“I’m not the biggest fan of the beach,” Felix’s hope was momentarily shattered. He felt bad for dragging you to the beach if you really didn’t want to go. Maybe he should’ve considered that his friends would want to go somewhere else. “But, I had the best time today… I love going anywhere with you, Lix.”

Felix was surprised that he hadn’t melted right then into a puddle. “Me too. I love it too,” You didn’t have to see Felix’s face to know he was smiling because you could hear it in his voice.

Talking with Felix was always the easiest thing in the world, and that night was no exception. When you met Felix, you were still very reserved and assumed that no one cared enough to hear the thoughts in your head. Felix always cared though, and he helped you come out of your shell more. Now, you were completely comfortable sharing anything on your mind with him. That night, you both talked about all your favorite moments you shared that day, and all the memories you now shared before talking about life and what you wanted in the future. You’re not sure how long you and Felix stayed up talking before finally succumbing to sleep, drifting off mid-conversation.

~~~

When Felix slowly woke up that morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was no longer in the same position that he’d fallen asleep in. He was now in the middle of the bed, engulfed by your body. You were still fast asleep with your head resting on his shoulder and one of your arms tucked around his body. Felix blinked a few times just to check if he was still dreaming as he looked at your peaceful features. Your face was completely relaxed, and your eyelashes gently rested against your smooth skin. Your lips were slightly parted while the hair that cascaded in front of your face billowed in the small breaths that left from them.

With the arm that wasn’t trapped between your bodies, Felix very carefully tucked the hair back behind your ear. You stirred a little in your sleep, and Felix held his breath hoping he hadn’t caused you to wake up. But you just nuzzled further into his shoulder and adjusted your grip more securely around him. Felix released the breath he was holding in relief and returned to admiring you draped over him. He hoped you were having good dreams. He hoped you were dreaming of him.

It had been a little more than a false alarm though because in the next moment, your eyes softly fluttered open. He could see the thoughts rouse awake in your mind as your eyes wandered up from your bodies to Felix’s eyes. He tried to keep his expression calm, but his breathing became slightly more labored as he waited for what you’d do next. You hesitantly lifted your head from his shoulder and your arm from around him. You brought the back of your hand against your cheek as if to help cool down the heat from a blush.

You were propped on your elbow still by his side when you finally spoke, “sorry… I guess I’m just used to holding something in my sleep…” You trailed off not meeting his eyes. Should he have tried to move from your grip when he first woke up? Would you have been able to look at him then?

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” Felix spoke so softly that he almost couldn’t hear himself over the sound of his own heartbeat. Sure you were the one who took him into your arms at some point in the night, but he was the one who knowingly stayed in them the morning after. Had he messed up?

You didn’t say anything for a minute before completely sitting up in bed. “Let’s just… get breakfast, yeah?”

“Yeah,” his voice slightly cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again, “yeah, you can get ready first.” You just nodded and made your way to the bathroom. When he heard the click of the door shutting behind you, Felix wished desperately he could know what you were thinking. Something seemed to have shifted this morning between you two, and Felix hoped this wasn’t the start of the end.

~~~

Felix felt his fears were confirmed when you spent the rest of the trip being as distant as possible from him. Others wouldn’t have been able to detect a change since you still spent time with him and joked around like normally. But Felix didn’t miss the way you would look away when you’d make eye contact or quickly pull away from a hug. It was eating him up inside, but he just wanted to pretend that it wasn’t happening. To keep telling himself nothing really changed.

On the way back from the trip, you took the passenger seat, and Hyunjin didn’t try to put up a fight for it this time. He compliantly sat in the back with Felix, and he offered to watch movies with Felix on his phone. Felix couldn’t focus on the screen though when you were in the front lost in conversation with Changbin, throwing your head back laughing at something he just said. Felix’s heart squeezed at the sight; had it really already been that long since you last genuinely laughed like that with him?

When Changbin and Hyunjin dropped you off at your shared apartment, the moon was once again hanging in the sky. For once there was silence that felt very close to awkward as you wordlessly made your way to the door. The whole building seemed to be reflecting your mood as nothing but overwhelming silence echoed through the halls. In reality, everyone was tucked away into their beds having a peaceful sleep, and Felix knew he should be ready to do the same with how late it was. But he was anything but tired.

You barely even acknowledged him once you arrived at your apartment, saying a halfhearted goodnight before disappearing into your room. Felix stood in his spot and stared at your door long after you went inside, wondering if this was the way things were going to be from now on. What had happened that morning? He should just talk to you. He chewed on his lip while contemplating this, taking a step forward, but ultimately steering away towards his room.

Felix abandoned his bag somewhere near his door, and he didn’t even bother unpacking. He was almost in a stupor as he changed into some pajamas and crawled into bed. He tossed and turned for what felt like forever before completely giving up on sleep and settled on staring up at his ceiling with one hand propped under his head. He replayed that morning over and over, mulling over every little detail. From the peace he felt in your arms, to the guilt when you moved away, to the disappointment after you eventually left. Felix was going to drive himself crazy ruminating like this, always coming to the same conclusion. He missed you.

He made up his mind that the first thing he would do tomorrow was talk to you when he heard shuffling at his door. As if his thoughts had managed to conjure you, there you were quietly slipping into his room. He watched you, confusion evident on his face, as you tiptoed your way over to his bed. “Felix?” Your voice sounded so small when you said his name.

“Y-yes?” Before he could even process what was happening, you had slipped into the bed, your arms wrapping around him and pulling him into you. Holding him exactly the way you had that morning.

“I couldn’t sleep…” you offered as if this could explain everything, and your voice was muffled by his shoulder.

“Fuck, Y/n…” Felix laughed but it came out almost like a scoff, and he didnt mean to come off so harsh. “You can’t just act distant all day, and then crawl in my bed like everything’s okay,” he softened his tone this time, and despite his words, he was relieved that you were holding him again. It was all he ever wanted.

“I-I can explain…” You looked up at him with eyes that were shiny and unguarded.

Felix, once again with the hand that was not tucked in between your bodies, reached over to tuck your hair behind your ear, taking the time to explore the emotions behind your eyes. “Please do, I’ve been so lost all day… Did I do something wrong?”

You were quick to grab his wrist as he pulled his hand away, sliding your hand down to take his in yours, “of course not, Lix… I was just scared.”

“Scared? I don't understand,” now he was confused as well as concerned.

“Scared of how much I liked it… Lix, I couldn’t sleep tonight because you weren’t there.” The confession lingered in the air, and Felix felt the seed of fear from before grow into hope. “Please don’t hate me when I tell you this but…”

“I could never hate you, Y/n,” Felix reassured and adjusted his grip on your hand more securely.

“It made me realize that I’m in love with you… that I’ve been in love with you,” You laughed airly like you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. “And it’s okay if you’re not, but I needed some time to come to terms that you might not-”

“What makes you think I’m not?” Felix asked instantaneously. He was so excited that he didn’t even have time to breathe.

“You are? Don’t play with me, Felix. I’m serious.” you said a little stern.

“I am too, Y/n.” Felix answered exasperated. “I am so in love with you.” You were still staring up at him wide-eyed, and your lips were slightly parted in incredulity. Felix smiled warmly at you and gathered some courage, “I’ll prove it to you…” His eyes flickered down to your lips. He turned on his side to face you and propped himself up on his elbow. He slightly leaned over you and unlinked your hands to softly cup your jaw. He delicately traced your plump bottom lip with his thumb, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” That was all it took for Felix to lean down and capture your lips with his. Your breath meddled together as your hand snaked around the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. Felix’s mind spun as you deepened the kiss, and he took the chance to explore your mouth further. The kiss was hungry and desperate, communicating a year’s worth of pinning leading up to this one moment. Your teeth clashed and tongues danced together as you tried to get as close as possible to one another. Felix tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away and met your gaze of matching blown pupils. “Okay,” you struggled catching your breath. “I believe you now.”

“Well, that was easy,” Felix softly laughed and kissed your forehead again just to reinforce his point. “I’ll make sure to keep proving it though.” And Felix meant it. He was ready to show you nothing but love. He settled down on top of you and hugged your waist. He rested his head against your chest and closed his eyes contentedly as you played with his hair. He wanted to enjoy being in the moment and soak in the new discoveries of that night. He knew that there was still more to figure out in this new territory, but that could wait until the morning.

[foptbw]

FOP The Big Wish AU Is Open For Asks

I have NO clue what happened to the original post it just disappeared??? I didn't delete it. I only realized it was gone when I was reposting from my main blog that this one was missing??? It had 2 comments 1 reblog and 33 likes before it randomly got deleted not by me? I still had a tab with it visible))

Timmy never leaves his apartment without at least 1 pink and 1 green thing, most the time stuffed animals. It's very very very important! Chester is always understanding and willing to wait for him. Even if they are running late to meet up with AJ!

Leaving the apartment building however there was something strange, piles of mail filled the room. Of course Timmy loved strange. After all strange things often meant something interesting is happening or going to happen or did happen! Maybe it was a bunch of mail for the new family that just moved in?

While Chester also noticed the odd state of the lobby of his apartment building, they don't have much time to dilly dally! Because AJ is waiting for them!

Of course he checks his own mail box before they leave. There was a letter from Chloe! Even though they call weekly, she still sends him letters with pictures of the monsters she's helping! Of course there isn't anything from his parents. It's been 12 years since he had last seen them. If it was up to them they would have gotten rid of him a lot sooner.

Timmy shook his head and took a deep breath. It was fine because he had AJ and Chester and they promised not to leave him. AJ was the one who bought him the lovely apartment where he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with! Even have sleepovers with his best buddies. Even though normal adults don't have sleepovers with their friends still. It's okay because AJ and Chester LIKED their sleepovers. They liked sleepovers so much that his two best friends lived together in their own house. Timmy even had his own room at their house for his bad days.

But, Timmy LIKED staying at his apartment because he can take care of himself. And he liked his apartment building because strange things often happen there. Not like at his friends' house. Strange things could lead to magical things. But, it felt like right when he was about to witness something magical he's gone and missed it!

[putellas11]

A/N:  Merry Christmas everyone! 🎁🎄 So happy to participate in the Christmas Writing Challenge alongside such an amazing group of writers. Thank you to @nytb for putting all this together! Check out @nytb’s fic that was posted earlier as well as @redhairedwolfwitch's fic coming out soon!

Small but Meaningful (Mapi Leon x Reader)

You’re not one to make impulsive decisions. It’s crucial to think things through and carefully consider all the pros and cons before making a final verdict. It doesn’t matter if it's deciding on a new job or a new pair of shoes, the process is the same. 

To you, this is completely normal. It’s the way you’ve always been. To others, however, it’s a little extreme. Everyone in your life, at some point or another, has encouraged you to be more spontaneous. To not think things through so much and to just go with the flow. But, they quickly realize that it’s just not in your nature. 

And yet, you managed to fall in love with one of the most impulsive human beings you’ve ever met. Unlike you, María Pilar León rarely gives more than five minutes of thought to any decision. If her heart calls for it, she will do it. Mapi doesn’t fear consequences. She knows she can handle anything and everything that is thrown her way. And that’s why you love her so much.

Her tattoos are a perfect example of this. One night, the two of you are just lying in bed, scrolling through social media and occasionally showing each other a funny video or meme. 

And then all of the sudden, Mapi sits up with a gasp, “me encanta!” 

On her screen is a tattoo design of a skull with an outline of a light bulb. The moment you see it, you know the two of you will be in a tattoo parlour in less than 24 hours. 

And just as you predicted, you’re now sitting next to Mapi as she discusses a few modifications to the design with the artist. Within seconds, Mapi made a decision that can last forever. She liked it, so she’s getting it. For her, it’s that easy.

You’ve thought about getting a tattoo before. The idea initially excites you, but once you really start thinking about it, you end up talking yourself out of it. Although Mapi’s personality and perspective on life have certainly rubbed off on you a little, just the thought of getting a tattoo gives you a headache. 

With the design finalized, Mapi can barely contain her excitement. “Do you like it?” she asks, looking at you with a sparkle in her eye. 

You may never actually get one yourself, but that doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate the beauty of tattoos. Not to mention how hot they look on your girlfriend. 

“I love it, babe.” 

Mapi, satisfied to hear your answer, leans back to allow the artist to apply the stencil to her skin.

“And when will I have the honor of tattooing you, Y/N?” asks the artist, still focused on her work.

Mapi stifles her laughter. She, of all people, knows the chances of you ever getting a tattoo are slim, if non-existent. 

“Por favor, don’t make me laugh,” Mapi shakes her head, a teasing smile on her lips, “I think her brain would short-circuit trying to pick out a tattoo.” 

You nod, in full agreement with Mapi. “Not an exaggeration.”

“You should have seen her last week trying to pick out a new toothbrush. She had like five tabs opened on her phone, just reading review after review.” 

You squint your eyes at Mapi, giving her a little kick. “Hey! It was a big decision and it didn’t even take me that long to decide, anyway.” 

“Remind me again how long it took you?” 

You look down at the floor, feeling a little warmth creeping up behind your neck, “I don’t know,” you mumble, “like 30 minutes.”

Mapi turns to the artist and gives them a clear and obvious, I told you so, look. “You see what I’m dealing with?” 

“I’ll get one, one day…” you say, trying your best to sound confident. 

“Sure you will, baby. Sure you will.” 

You and Mapi may be two very different people, that doesn’t mean you don’t share a few similarities. Like Mapi, you are very competitive. The very few times in your life when you’ve said, fuck it, without thinking of the consequences, have been for the sake of winning. 

“Go ahead, underestimate me. That’ll be fun.”

Mapi, noticing the change in your tone, blows a kiss in your direction. She loves to tease you, but also knows not to push you too much. Unlike so many others in your past, she never wants to make you feel bad for what some might consider a flaw. 

“You could always just be a little one, y’know,” the artist says, working on the lines of the tattoo “and if it means something to you, even better. Small but meaningful.” 

You remain relatively quiet for the remainder of the session, lost in thought. What the artist said resonated with you. 

Small, but meaningful. 

___________

For the first time in years, you don’t have to stress about what to get Mapi for Christmas. She has loved every gift you’ve given her in the past — no matter how simple or expensive the gift. But still, you agonize for months on what to get her. 

Now, just a few days before Christmas, you’ve never been so calm. Of course, Mapi has noticed how out of the ordinary this is for you. 

“Something’s not right,” she says, standing in front of the TV and blocking your view. 

“What do you mean?” 

Mapi looks you up and down, “you’re acting weird.” 

“How am I acting weird?”

“Two days before Christmas and you’re sitting here, watching TV, calm as a cucumber.”

“And what’s so weird about that?” you try to look past Mapi and at the screen, acting oblivious as to what the big deal is. 

Mapi snaps her fingers at you in an attempt to get your attention, “you should be freaking out!” she exclaims. “This is like the most stressful time of year for you. I mean, did you just decide not to get me a gift this year?”

“I already know what I’m getting you, amor” you tell her, brushing her off.

“You do?” 

“Mhmm.”

Mapi squints her eyes at you, one eyebrow slightly perked in suspicion. She knows you have something up your sleeve, but you know she’ll never be able to guess as to exactly what. 

For the next two days, you find Mapi snooping under the bed, in the closet, in every cabinet and every possible hiding spot in the apartment. If you were able to decide on a gift so quickly, it must be a good one. 

Now, sitting together under the Christmas tree, Mapi’s gift is still nowhere in sight. 

“I can’t take this anymore!” she says, tapping her knees impatiently, “come on, stop messing with me and give me my gift.” 

You’re just as excited to show Mapi her gift as she is to receive it. Her impatience is to be understood. This is the first gift you've given her that did not require any second guessing out of fear that she’ll hate it. 

Wanting to draw out the suspense, your movements are slow. Very carefully you tug up the sleeve of your Christmas sweater. Mapi can’t help but lean forward when she sees the reindeer band-aid on your wrist. 

“What happened?” she asks with concern. The gift is suddenly of no interest to her. 

“Go ahead, take it off,” you encourage her. Now only a few seconds away from the reveal, you can’t help the grin spreading across your face.

Mapi delicately pulls on the end of the band-aid until a small, number 4, can be seen. As soon as she sees it, she leans back. A puzzled look on her face. 

“What is that?” she asks, refusing to believe what she's seeing.  

“What do you think it is?” 

Mapi shakes her head, refusing to even believe the possibility. “No, I don't believe you” she says, leaning in again to get a closer look. “It can’t be real.” She wets her finger and tries to wipe away the number, but there it remains. 

“I know I tend to overthink everything and that it drives you crazy sometimes — even though I know you’ll never admit it,” you tug her chin so she’s looking you in the eyes, “but if there’s one thing, I’m hundred percent certain of, it’s you.” 

Mapi melts under your touch. She’s perfectly aware of how big of a decision this was for you and the fact that she’s the inspiration for your first tattoo makes it all that more special.

“I love it,” Mapi gives you a big smile and leans in to give you a soft and tender kiss, “and I love you,” she says against your lips.

Her reaction is everything you hoped for and more. 

“I have so many cool designs to show you!” she says, shaking you side to side with her hands on your shoulders. 

You put up your hand to stop her, “wait, don't you get too excited now.”

But it's too late. Mapi's already reaching for her phone.  

[codcosplayer]

Exam Week

For the past week you’ve been working on studying for your exams and keeping up with cleaning and making food for you and Simon. You have your first exam in two days and you're almost as busy studying as Simon is with work. 

One day Simon comes home from work and finally isn’t having a bad day, he's been working with new recruits and they had been recently pissing him off, but today was a good day! He walked in the door with the normal “Hey lovie, ‘M home!” Usually you’d be waiting for him at the door and greet him with a welcome home kiss. Today you were nowhere to be found, “Lovie?” Still nothing. Simon keeps calm as he looks around the house, “Where are they Damnit, Wait. Could they be- No its been 11 and ½ hours- surely they aren’t still-” Simon opens the door to their office that they use for filing reports, school work, etc. Low and behold their you were, Passed out at your desk head slumped on your propped up left arm, pencil still in hand, your hand was settled on your notebook. With your screen split, one side of your screen had your essay open that you’d been working on for the past two days, and the other side had a website you were taking notes from.

Simons face goes from worried to grateful, as he sighs a sigh of relief, but he was also a little upset that you were still working, You’d started working about five minutes before Simon left, he walked up to you as quietly as possible, slowly taking the pencil from your hands, saving your essay, and bookmarking the website you were on and your notebook. After closing your notebook and turning off the computer he gently picked you up and carried you to bed.

“Honey, hey love.” Simons gentle voice floods your ears as you slowly wake up. You let out a small “Mm?” as you sit up. “Babe? Where am- wheres my work?!” you panic a little as you take in your surroundings, “Hey calm down hun, I saved your progress and book marked your tabs and notebooks, when you go back everything will be the same as you left it, alright?” He reasures you. “Ok” You say hesitantly, “I have few questions your you love,” Simon says looking at you with a serious face ‘Uh oh’ You think but you respond with a small “Ok,” “Did you have anything to eat after the breakfast you had this morning? If thats even consdered a meal.” He asks, to be honest not really, the meal he was talking about was a cup of expresso and a bagel with cream cheese. “I had a cup of water..” You said not looking him in the eyes, “That’s it? At what time?” “Noon.” You still don’t look at him, You had eaten with Simon at 4:30, “That has five hours ago, its 17:00 love.”(5:00pm for those who don’t know military time.) “Oh” you said finally looking at him, you genuenlly didn’t know how much time had passed by, you’d been hours for hours on end everyday to get ready for you exams, you hadn’t cleaned the house in four days, but it didn’t really matter because you hadnt gone anywhere other than your guys bedroom and the office. “I’m gonna make some food, Then were gonna eat and we can talk about this later.” Simon says as he gets up from where he was sitting on the bed and exits the room. 

*Fifteen minutes later*

Simon walks in with two plate of Chicken alfredo, “Here.” he hands you a plate that you except happily, now realizing how hungry you’d been, as you begin eating simon continues your original conversation. “So love, weve got talk about this, i love that you dedicated to working but this is going to far. You aren’t taking time for yourself, I dont think your eaten properly since last week. Also this isn’t the first time you’ve passed out at your desk for over working.” you look down at your plate and take another bite looking guilty,

 “I’m sorry, I’m just struggling in some of my classes and I didn’t want to fail my exams, I see why your concerned I just hate not being prepared for things.” You respond sounding a little upset, the warm feeling of Simons hands cupping your face brings you eyes up to his, “I know you like having good grades and you were always pressured to get good grades as a kid but I don’t need you to be ‘perfect’, nobodys perfect ok? Everybody is important to somebody and your important to me. I love you.” “I love you too Si..”

@starryylies

[sadnightforus]

RINGING YOUR LINE  (CTY)

ex-turned-bf!taeyang x gn!reader 

SYNOPSIS: The breakup was almost a year ago, but he still can’t forget you. It’s very much expressed through the song he produces and posted out of impulse, secretly hoping that you’ll listen to it. 

WORD COUNT: 3K.

WARNINGS: hinting that the reader is a cold person (even though they’re not), one cuss word. In the song, the artist uses the she/her pronouns but the reader’s gender is never specified. Not much tbh but it can be a bit emotionally draining. Mentioning Shota as the MVP friend (thx q 💪🏻). 

INSPIRED BY: LESSON (โค้ชลงเล่น) BY YUNGTARR.

A/N: well…. I’m not so proud of writing these short stories instead of working on the ones for my series but my brain is not working. Also I deeply apologize if the translated lyrics are not correct. I use google translate for it. 

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

 In the dimming room of a small studio room, there sits Taeyang, whose headphone is glued to his ears while his eyes cannot tear itself away from a folder that has only one song in there. 

 He is hesitating, rather more anxious than anything combined as he clicks on google, then looks at the opening tab, displaying his YouTube channel with over 360K subscribers on the site of YouTube studio. 

 He knows it’ll be a bad idea, a terrible idea even. His mind screams at him to not do it, but the need of expressing his honest feelings is eating him up. 

 Normally, when his friends ask him how he has been doing, he’ll simply answer with the usual ‘I’m fine.’ but he knows he’s far from being okay. The breakup with you has been hard, even though it was a mutual agreement that you guys are better off not being partners and parted ways on neutral terms that is. Everyday since then, he feels like he doesn’t want to live anymore because he regrets that decision so much. 

 He should’ve stopped you. 

 Just like how he should’ve stopped himself from uploading the new song onto the YouTube channel where you can obviously see that. Heck, he thinks you’d think he’s weird for still being unable to get over you. 

 But too late for that as the new video ‘THEO - Ringin’ Ur Line (Official Audio)’ being posted and he just sighs in defeat, realizing that he makes such a fool of himself with the way he didn’t think of making the video unlisted or even private before it uploads onto the account. 

 And at the same time, you’re mindlessly scrolling through some apps when you see a notification from the channel called ‘THEO’ uploading a new song pops up on the screen. As much as you pretend not to care, you click onto it, ready to get your heartbroken, knowing that he most likely will never mention or even talk about you in his songs. 

 Who would get over someone who makes music and especially a catchy one anyway? 

 But what surprises you is the fact that he makes the song and sings with his own voice in this one, mainly because he’s a music producer. Although his appearance screams very ‘celebrity-like’ due to how good looking he is, he claims that he just wants to lead a normal life with no pressure that comes between his personal life and professional life. He chooses to work behind the spotlight and produces some of the greatest hits for well-known names in the industry. Never once does he put his own personal works out like this. 

 So what changes? 

 You sit up to hear the lyrics and observe the song more carefully. 

และสุดท้ายรักมันคืออะไร baby เธอตอบฉัน

And finally, what is love? Baby, you answer me.

 You scoff at the thought of him having someone new he might be possibly singing about. Clearly, he wouldn’t really sing about you, would he?

บทเรียนสุดท้ายและครั้งที่สองเธอไม่พลาดพลั้ง

The last and second lesson, she didn't fail.

 You wonder what he could possibly refer to. What does he mean with this exactly? Love lesson that gives him the kind of pain that is unforgettable? 

 It’s your cue to go because it’s not even about you. 

 You feel pathetic for ever assuming that it was about you, the person he sang about. You feel foolish and you’re mad at yourself for that. The cold wind doesn’t help much with warming your body either. 

 Somehow, you continue to listen because of the charming lyrics and melodies. 

เธอตั้งใจทำอย่างนั้น

She did that on purpose.

เธอตั้งใจให้ผมเจ็บ

She intended to hurt me.

 You wonder which girl really hurt him and how she managed to do so. Deep down, you wish to have the same effect that whoever did to him in this song. 

 You sigh as you continue listening. 

baby เธอเองก็รู้ว่าใจดวงนี้มันสามารถซ้ำ

baby, you know that this heart can repeat itself.

เธอหยุดได้มั้ย baby ถือว่าผมขอร้อง 

Can you stop, baby? Consider that I'm begging you.

 Taeyang looks at the time on his phone and realizes something, he’ll forever sit alone and let you slip away from his life for good if he didn’t do something tonight. 

 He needs you in his life. He needs your love. He doesn’t want to continue to imagine the way you could only say those ‘i love you's' that his brain could only replay of the way you said it so much in the past that it deeply engraved in his mind like a clockwork. 

 He doesn’t want his heart trembling at the way you look so beautiful in the well kept polaroid of you two in his wallet anymore. He is done with torturing and lying to himself. 

 Grabbing his car keys, he impatiently waits for the engine to start working and looks around for the blind spots to make sure that the parking spot is empty before driving away. 

pretend ว่าตัวผม strong

Pretend that I'm strong

ในสิ่งที่ทุกๆวันขณะในใจผมเจ็บขนาดนั้น 

For something that every day in my heart hurts that much

 He stops at a flower shop, owned by one of his good friends, Shota. Shota has a talent in rearranging flowers, although he wouldn’t need to utter a word for the customers to roll in because he’s adorable. Taeyang remembers that his first flower ever given to you was from Shota’s flower shop and now that he wants to reconcile you both, he figures that he should do that too. 

 He pants, upon the hurried travel to his friend’s store. Shota eyes him blankly, but continues to say nothing, waiting for the other person to speak first. 

“I need a flower that says forever love. Not roses, obviously.” 

“Was that for Y/N?” He questions, although he already knows the answer. 

“How do you know that?” 

“You can pretend that you’re fine and be strong for our sake, although you’re not really. You still think of them.” 

 Was the pain so obvious that even Shota, who normally just doesn’t comment and not caring about things most of the time can see? 

 He really realizes that you’re his better half. 

 And as for you, you find yourself relating to the lyrics he sings in this song. You truly dislike how reflective it is to your state of mind because you’ve been pretending you’re strong and you’re not hurting everyday. 

 Both of yours and his heart are aching for one another, wanting to belong as one again. 

แค่เห็นที่ต้องเจ็บซ้ำ

Just seeing it hurts again.

เป็นเธอไม่มีสายใยแม้ไม่มีเธอเองก็ไม่ต่างกัน

It's you, there's no connection, even without you, it's no different.

 There’s something you can never admit to your friend or anybody else. You’re ashamed to still confess out loud that you’re thinking of your ex boyfriend and that you read both of your text messages with each other.

 You can’t understand it. Why can’t you get him out of your mind if he’s not exactly the most ideal man there is? 

 You sigh, it’s truly unpleasant to be having these late night thoughts where it betrays what you stand for. 

 Similarly to Taeyang, who also does look at the text messages you both shared, but with a different thought. 

 He used to take you for granted, but with you gone, he realizes that he had a gem but he was too blind by his own insecurities. 

 And if there’s no you, then nothing will make sense to him anymore. 

“Hyung, your flower is ready.” Shota places the flower on the table, in front of where Taeyang keeps zoning out. The producer grabs the flower, amazed that the younger florist chooses pink asters, knowing that it represents eternal love, innocence and devotion for a person you deeply care about. He then stands up, slams the 10$ and 20$ on the table and screams out before exiting the shop. 

“I know you’re gonna charge me 25$ but just accept 30$. Keep the change.” 

 Shota just shakes his head, sighing before going back to work. 

I think about everyday, baby we used to talk.

Now you run away.

But baby I'm still walk.

 Driving as fast as he can, he makes it his mission to place his vehicle in a place he knows it all too well. Nighttime has never looked more unexpected and almost scary to him because he can’t predict what is going to happen next. He can only hope that the music he mistakenly and might be posted under the influence of his idiocy conveys what he truly feels about the seperation. 

 Just only a month and 19 more days until it’ll be marked since a year you both break up. But yet in those days before it approaches, you occupy his thoughts every day and night. 

 Frankly, you’re the first and last thing he thinks of every single day. 

 He’s thanking the universe that he didn’t just crash and die right here with the way he’s speeding to you. 

คิดถึงแต่โทรหาไม่ได้

I miss you but can't call.

อยากจะเรียกเธอมาช่วยเชียร์แต่ว่ามันทำไม่ได้

I want to call her to cheer me up but I can't.

 Whenever he’s having a hard time, he wants to call you. But he can’t. 

 Whenever he’s happy, he can’t also call you. 

 And whenever he thinks of you, he can’t do that because you guys are not together anymore. 

 He wants to hear your voice, soothing his worries or cracking some jokes and laughing out so delightfully. 

 This trip to your house might be the last time he’ll get to see you. Or his wants will finally be granted. 

Baby เธอตั้งใจ broke heart

Baby, you accidentally broke my heart.

 You’re supposed to hate him, with the way he sings in this song. This line, a particular line, just like he said, it accidentally breaks your heart into pieces too. 

 You’re gritting your teeth in anger, were you never that important to him? 

 Had he never loved you enough that his heart could possibly break at the thought of you, of this too? 

 Were you the only one feeling this way? 

 You feel really start to resent him. God, what a fucking scumbag. 

 The love has never been reciprocated, so why can’t you let the thought of him completely slip out of your mind? 

ย้ายความเจ็บปวดเข้าไปที่ broke heart 

Move the pain into a broken heart

 It’s only around 10 minutes, if without speeding up, until he’ll be at your door, making a fool of himself, without knowing if you still want him back. He doesn’t know if you’re seeing someone new. Because if you do, that flower in the passenger seat that he is meaning to give it to you will be left to rot, as a proof of his undying love. 

 He doesn’t think that he can ever move past the pain of not having you if the rejection comes through. 

I'm still ทิ้งลงถังมันไม่ได้ baby

I'm still can't throw it in the bin, baby. 

ทำลงไม่ได้ baby

Can't do it, baby. 

Standing in front of the trash bin, you’re facing the most difficult of your life; whether to throw or not to throw every polaroid of you both together. 

 The song keeps playing, you’re holding 6 polaroids of you and him, which are taken on his birthday. There was a whip cream on his nose that he didn’t bother to wipe before taking the photos because he wanted to look cute and have fun, which you let him. It’s one of the fondest memories, out of every celebration you both had done together and you’re about to throw it away. 

 But your hand freezes, gripping onto those small pieces of pictures a bit too tightly. 

 And what happens if you throw it away? Would it only exist in your memories now with no physical evidence? Is that what you’re looking for? 

 And would you be happy to only have events that exist in your heart now? 

 What good would it do if you do anyway? You’d still continue to see the ghost of him everywhere you turn. 

 You can’t throw it away, you really can’t. 

มันตัดใจไม่ได้ baby

I can't get over it, baby. 

 He can’t get over your smile, your voice, your personality, humor or you. 

 He almost feels sorry for himself that he acts like this, let alone letting you know how he feels. 

 It’s what he thinks as his car has come to a stop, safely parking itself in an open space era. He then opens the car door, holding the flower bouquet to his chest before closing it and locking the car door. 

 Something in your mind tells you to stop standing still and keep the polaroids hidden away if you’re not gonna throw it, burn it or even destroy it. 

 So you listen to your guts as you gently tuck your upper lips, anxious and confused on why did you back out on it last minute. 

 You know the answer way too well to that question. But you didn’t want to accept it. 

เพราะผมรักจะตาย baby

Because I love you to death, baby.

“Ding!” 

 Your doorbell rings, startles you out of your trance when you’re so busy putting the polaroids back into a hidden box. 

 You’re confused on who would come to your door this late at night. It’s almost midnight, just only roughly 19 minutes to be exact as you look at the time displayed on the digital clock. 

 A gut feeling tells you that you might need to open the door as it’ll reveal the answer to everything you’ve been hoping for. 

 You’ll regret it if you don’t. 

 Most importantly, you’re hoping it’s him who is behind that door, ringing your doorbell, asking you to be back in his life. But you shake your head at the ridiculousness before you stand up, taking slow steps to get to the door. Your palm grips tightly onto that doorknob, not knowing if you want to do so. 

และสุดท้ายรักมันคืออะไร baby เธอตอบฉัน

And finally, what is love? Baby, you answer me.

 Is the last phrase you hear before your phone dies. You sigh as you twist the doorknob and you’re met with the man you thought you’d never get to meet again. 

 Choi Taeyang standing in front of you. With a bouquet of pink asters in his hands. 

 He wears a white sweater for tonight, a casual look but it makes him look almost breathtaking because he is simply the most beautiful guy you’ve ever known. He looks anxious, not knowing what to say at first as he hands you the asters and you gladly accept it. 

“Did you hear my new song?” 

 The question catches you off guard. Because what game does he want to play now? 

“I do.” You nod, face lack of any expression, opposite to the male in front of you who looks unsure and almost on the verge of tears. You can sense the anxiousness radiating off him but you choose not to ask about it. 

“Well- what do you think about it?” He looks at you, hoping you’d respond to it differently than you do now, because it’ll kill him if you continue to be standoffish like that. 

“It’s nice.” 

“The song… it’s about you.” He confesses, observing the way your eyebrows quirk in confusion and the gleam in your eyes that plead him to almost repeat whatever he just said. 

“Ever since we broke up, it’s never been easy on me. I want to call you so bad but I know you wouldn’t pick up those calls. Every day that I live, the memories of us haunt me so bad, it’s like you intended to hurt me and to make sure that I’ll never get over you. It’s lame that I can’t move on and I’m still in love with you. And now, here, making a fool of myself, asking you to be mine again.” 

 You stare at him, a bit dumbfounded and losing yourself in the moment that all of this happens in real time and it’s not your imagination anymore. You let each of the phrases that escape his lips sink into your mind and process itself into your brain as you can only admire him, no words being exchanged. 

 Taeyang is scared, preparing for your rejection already as you go absolutely silent. He could die right now, if not for the fact that he hasn’t heard the final word that determines whether he’ll continue to live in misery or start a new chapter with absolute happiness. 

“Y/N, please say something. If you’re gonna reject me, please do it fast!” 

“Idiot, I never stopped loving you.” Your face breaks into the biggest grin he has ever seen and every tension and worry just completely escapes from his body. 

 He takes a step forward to hug you, losing himself in your embrace. He misses your love, your warmth. His home, his livelihood all just connects back to you as he feels like the happiest man in the world. 

“Thank god because I thought I’ll live with regret for my entire life.” He mumbles, feeling so content by the physical contact for the first time in months. You try to gently peel yourself off from him, he pouts at you sadly, pleading to be in your embrace for a little longer but before allowing that to continue happening, you scold him. 

“Get off of me! What kind of house owner would I be if I let my guest stand outside for this long.” 

 He smiles, showing off the adorable eye smile that you love so much. 

“Is that your way of inviting me inside?” 

He teases you back, taking off his shoes as he observes you and every corner of your living space, happy to have you back in his life again. 

“Oh shut up before I kick you out.” You give him a stern stare, with your now boyfriend trailing behind you to chill in the living room. He only grins at you teasingly before responding back. 

“Fine.” 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2023

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv! I appreciate your recs so much, even as I am constantly weeping at your feet for increasing my Marked For Later list at an exponential rate.

I'm curious to know what fics you would rec that are deliciously depraved, debauched, and downright dirty. Smut so filthy and/or kinky that you can only read it from between your fingers as you cover your blushing face with both hands. My guilty favorite that has lived in an eternally-open tab is The Curse of Wanting by nothing_left_sacred, and I am ever on the hunt for something on that level of perverse indulgence. Help a degenerate out?

Hi anon! Lmao I’m sorry (or am I 😏) for your ever increasing mfl list, I am very familiar with the feeling and have given up on being up to date with my reading 🥲 @pennygalleon and I were just talking about this and I’ve considered deleting everything and starting a new mfl from scratch but am too lazy to do it right now, will prob try it later this year!

As for your depraved ask, I love it so much hehe let’s push the debauchery agenda forward pls and thank! My answer might be underwhelming but full disclosure: I actually haven’t read much filth in the Drarry fandom, or at least not a lot that makes me blush and cover my face (that rarely happens these days…). I am listing below a few Drarry fics that I find very hot and here’s a shoutout to Lokifan as one of my favorite smut authors - but tbh my followers might be more knowledgeable than me on this topic! Oh and thanks for reccing The Curse of Wanting, I’ll definitely check it out :)

Utter Cockslut (A Worthy Cause) by Lokifan

Harry sells Draco’s arse to all comers for a night. After all, it’s for a very worthy cause. Fluffier than it sounds.

Keep your hands on me by tenthousandyears

Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).

The Adventures of a Pureblood Slut series by asphodellic

Draco Malfoy is arrogant, selfish, sarcastic, and let's be honest, drop dead sexy. But sometimes purebloods aren't as pure as they appear. A series of adventures involving Draco and the things that get him off.

It Started in the Shower series by chickenlivesinpumpkin

When Harry finds Malfoy in his shower at Grimmauld Place, the two boys struggle to keep their hands to themselves, not realizing that their 'enemies-with-benefits' relationship will eventually become considerably darker and more powerful. That relationship will influence the search for the horcruxes--and the war--in unpredictable ways.

Toeing the Line by shiftylinguini (Drarry + Teddy)

Draco wasn’t sure why watching his partner fuck Teddy until he screamed was somehow less morally iffy for Harry than just doing it himself, but Draco wasn’t about to judge. Not when he was balls deep, anyway.

+2 long angsty fic with lots of hot smut:

Another Mask Behind You by lettered

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)

Unhook the Stars by jad

For HP Sexstars 2012. - "Love is like a Rubix Cube: there are countless wrong twists and turns, but once you get it right, it's perfect no matter how you look at it." Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words.

[blue-bujo]

Bowled Over (Roy Kent X Reader): Chapter Six

You work at a bowling alley and a young girl named Phoebe has a birthday party there. You catch her uncle's eye.

Roy Kent x female reader

Will try to update roughly every two weeks

Chapter Six: A Disastrous Date

(5.9k words)

Warnings: Roy Kent-level language (you know what you're in for), periods, past medical trauma, injury

Summary: Phoebe crashes a date night, and you decide to take her and Roy bowling. Nothing goes smoothly.

For the next few weeks, you settled into a comfortable routine with Roy. He would call every few days and texted every day. About once a week, he would take you to dinner in a cozy little mom-and-pop restaurant, which you took turns choosing, followed by a walk in a quiet park somewhere. You were quite happy. Roy seemed to genuinely like you, and you loved to feel wanted by someone. His gruff exterior hid a sensitive, insecure side that he was very slowly revealing to you, and with each revealed layer, you were falling a little bit more for him.

Roy was so gentle. He cussed like a sailor, but never said a mean word to anybody who didn’t deserve it. He was remarkably observant, picking up on all of your little quirks and reactions. And above all, he was respectful to the utmost degree. He asked before any new form of physical contact, and let you set the pace. You could tell he was holding himself back; you’d realized that physical touch was a love language of his, and he seemed starved for it. Whenever you met, he surrounded you in a huge hug, and since you had answered “yes” to his first request to hold your hand, he had done so often, taking your small hand in his until they both got so sweaty that you had to break apart and wipe off your palms.

Yes, you were quite happy with Roy. When he kissed your cheek at the end of each date, you concluded that you could stay this way forever.

About a month after your first date, you were realizing that your feelings were getting very serious. You were in your flat, getting ready for him to pick you up for an evening out, when your phone rang. His name was flashing on your screen, and you answered with apprehension. He normally didn’t call this close to picking you up.

“Hi, Roy. Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, babe, his voice rumbled through the speaker. “I was calling to let you know that we might need to change plans. The hospital where my sister works had somebody call in sick, so Sofia picked up the extra shift. I’m on uncle duty tonight, so I don’t know if you’d still want to do dinner with an 11-year-old tagging along. Might be fucking weird.”

“That’s a pound, Uncle Roy,” you heard a young voice interrupt from the background. Apparently Phoebe was already with him.

“We can do dinner another night,” you said, and hoped that your disappointment wasn’t noticeable in your voice. “Are you okay seeing me with Phoebe?”

If he wasn’t, you’d be discouraged. His world revolved around two things: football, and Phoebe. Your heart skipped a happy beat when he replied.

“Of course I still want to see you. And Phoebe has wanted me to introduce you properly for weeks. Do you have any idea what she’d do to me if I kept hiding you away for myself? She’d go fucking mental.”

“Uncle Roy!”

“Put it on the tab, Pheebs.” There was a pause on the other end of the line before he addressed you again. “We’re ten minutes away. Sorry I didn’t give you more warning. I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded, which he couldn’t see because you were on the phone. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised. “Be thinking of what we can do with Phoebe. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Cheers. Be there soon.”

Roy disconnected the call, and you went back to getting ready. You already had an idea of what you wanted to do with him and Phoebe, and it was something that you could treat him to, for a change. When he drove up a few minutes later, you were already outside waiting. He leaned over and pushed open the passenger door for you. You climbed into the ridiculous vehicle and squeezed his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Roy smiled, squeezing your hand back. “Sorry about this.”

You waved him off with your free hand as you turned to look into the backseat. “Don’t be sorry. Hi, Phoebe! It’s good to see you again!”

Phoebe grinned at you. “It’s good to see you, too! I told you Uncle Roy thought you were fit.”

In sync, you and Phoebe both shot smug looks at the man currently frozen uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. He glared at both of you in return.

“Fuckin’ hell, you two are insufferable,” groaned Roy. “We talked about this, Phee. I take you along, you keep your mouth shut. I thought we had a deal.”

“We did, but I like Miss Splits. Besides, you also promised you’d take me out for ice cream, and I haven’t seen any ice cream yet,” Phoebe countered. She looked at you. “He does like you. Just in case he doesn’t say it to you. He’s said it to me a few times.”

Roy looked at you from the corner of his eye and gave you an embarrassed little shrug. He was uncomfortable with Phoebe being vulnerable for him, and your heart warmed a bit.

“I do like you,” he rumbled.

Giving his hand another little squeeze, you replied, “I know, Roy. And I know where we can all go tonight!”

The tiniest bit of tension left his shoulders. “Finally. Where am I driving us three tonight?”

You leaned over and whispered your destination in Roy’s ear. He immediately navigated the car into traffic. Phoebe was looking expectantly at you, but you just smiled at her.

“I hear they have ice cream where we’re going,” you said cryptically.

That was good enough for Phoebe. She settled back into her seat and looked out the window as Roy drove to your destination for the evening.

It didn’t take long to drive from the flat to the bowling alley, Roy reflected as he parked. Phoebe was smiling as he opened her door for her and she hopped out.

“Are we bowling?” she chirped.

“What does it look like?” teased Splits.

It made Roy really happy that she and Phoebe seemed to get on so well. Not that he was surprised; Phoebe was a good kid, and Splits had obviously dealt with a lot of kids working here. He leaned over to her to mutter quietly in her ear.

“Are you sure you want to be here on your day off? We can find something else to do.”

She shook her head. “Are you kidding? I never get to actually bowl for pleasure; it’s always in league competition. Tonight is going to be great.”

She strode confidently to the counter, and Roy was once again smitten. This was the first time he’d been here and she hadn’t been working. She was in her element, chatting comfortably with all the staff and checking out guest passes for him and Phoebe from the older woman he’d encountered when he’d shown up last month. This was Splits in her natural habitat, and her smile was lighting up the whole fucking place.

Phoebe had sidled up without him noticing, and she was watching him watch Splits.

“You’ve got heart eyes, Uncle Roy,” she giggled.

“So?”

“I like seeing you happy, that’s all.”

Roy tore his heart eyes away from Splits to look at his niece. She did look like she was pleased. But as he sized her up, he noticed that she didn’t seem as chipper as she had earlier. He took a knee to be face to face with Phoebe, to show her that she had his full, undivided attention.

“Are you all right, Phoebe?” he asked.

“I’m okay. My tummy is just a bit upset. Maybe I should skip the ice cream tonight.”

Phoebe loved ice cream. Choosing to skip it was unusual, and raised red flags in Uncle Roy’s mind. Although it made both of them sick, he and Phoebe never skipped ice cream dates.

“We can go home if you need to,” he offered, not hiding the concern in his voice.

Phoebe looked horrified. “I’m not making you end your date! I’ll be fine, Uncle Roy, really.”

Splits came back before Roy could argue. She had two pairs of rentals shoes in hand, one for him and one for Phoebe, who had already fixed her face and chosen to soldier on. She was a fucking trooper, Roy though as he fought to stand up again.

“All right, I have your shoes, and we’re set up on Lane 24,” called Splits as she bustled forward and handed off their shoes. “I don’t like the end lanes, but I figured it keeps a bit of a buffer between us and anybody that might recognize you, Roy. We can use my employee discount for anything at the snack bar, so order whatever you guys want. I’ll go get the lane set up while you find balls.”

“You’re the shit, you know that?” Roy said quietly. As Phoebe ran off to find a bowling ball, he took the opportunity to wrap an arm around Splits’ shoulders and kiss her temple. He hated being recognized, and she’d done everything she could do to prevent it happening here.

“No one has ever called me that before,” she laughed softly. “I’ll gladly accept it, though.” She leaned into his kiss, then put her temple against his cheek. “Sorry it’s not the most exciting night.”

“Are you kidding? I get a night out with both my girls. That is a fucking great night in my book. “What?”

Splits had left his embrace and was looking at him with an unreadable expression. What had he said?

Oh, shit, he’d said his girls. Plural. Which was how he view Phoebe and Splits, but he hadn’t actually asked Splits to be his girl, officially. He had planned to do it tonight at dinner, before he’d been called for uncle duty. Roy was a muppet. That was a major slip.

He started to reach out to her, to say something, but Phoebe chose that moment to walk up to him carrying the heaviest bowling ball she’d been able to find.

“Here, Uncle Roy. I got you a ball.”

“Thanks, Phoebe.” He accepted the ball, which was much heavier than expected, and looked to his date to apologize, but her back was turned as she was entering their names in the computer. “How about we find a ball for you, and order dinner?”

Hopefully, giving Splits some space fore a few minutes would show her that he was sorry. Besides, Phoebe was still looking a bit… off. Roy couldn’t say why, but Phoebe wasn’t as bright as she usually was.

As he ordered their dinner and followed Phoebe back to Lane 24, Roy had plenty of time to reflect on how much of a fucking idiot he was. Having Phoebe with him would make it harder to apologize, but he would do it. He didn’t want to mess up this thing with Splits; he cared too much.

They got back to the lane, and Roy was about to open his mouth. But Splits was in coaching mode, hyping Phoebe up the way Roy assumed she did for the youth leagues she’d told him she volunteered in. Only a secret smile, done behind Phoebe’s back while she bowled her first ball, told Roy that he didn’t have to worry about his earlier words for now.

The trio bowled. Phoebe used the bumpers, but she didn’t seem to need them, as her score was decent. She was having fun, but she was starting to get a bit droopy. She didn’t eat much dinner.

Roy was awful He managed to knock over some pins in the first few frames, but the harder he tried, the worse he got, and he didn’t understand why. It was becoming embarrassing, especially compared to Splits.

She was amazing. She had all this extra shit that she used, like a towel, and sandpapery tapes that went inside finger holes, and a wrist brace. Not to mention three fancy bowling balls that she said all did different things. But even without all of that, she would have been perfect as she glided gracefully across the wood floors and threw the ball so silently you could miss it.

After their first game – in which she beat Roy by over a hundred points, which she said was a low score for her – Splits went to pick up their dessert from the snack bar. Roy instantly interrogated Phoebe, who was now drooping quite badly.

“Are you sure that you don’t need to go home?”

Phoebe sighed. “I don’t want to end the night early. I’ll be fine, Uncle Roy, I promise.”

Roy didn’t believe her, but she had the Kent stubbornness, so he knew pressing her wouldn’t do anything. “All right. But you let me know if that changes. You hear me?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Roy grunted in response, and watched as Splits came back with giant cookies.

“I got us warm cookies,” she smiled. “They’re easier to eat while you’re bowling than ice cream. Are you guys up for another game?”

“Only if I don’t play like shit this time,” grumbled Roy.

“I can coach you, if you want. There are easy changes you could both make to your forms. I can probably get you both breaking 90.” Crossing her arms, she continued, “I just have to warn you, I’m a tactile coach. I’ll be moving your arms so you can feel the way you’re supposed to do it.”

A sanctioned way for physical contact? Yes, fucking please. “I’m okay with that. Let’s play.”

They started game two with Splits embarrassing Roy by making him get a lighter ball. Then she told him that, if he wanted to actually throw it straight, he needed to keep his arm straight and not bend his elbow. For the next three frames, she tapped his elbow before and after every shot. He secretly thrilled at every touch, and somehow managed to keep the ball out of the gutter.

Phoebe took the same tips and got better as well, but decided to sit out the second half of the game. Roy took notice, as did Splits, he thought, although she kept talk to the subject of bowling.

“Are you ready to try some footwork?” she asked.

The man nodded. “You, why not? And what do you think is wrong with Phoebe?”

“I don’t know. She seems like her stomach hurts. Maybe she overate? Did she eat before you picked me up?”

“I don’t think so. This came on after we got here. I don’t know what to do.”

Both looking over to the seats, it was evident Phoebe wasn’t feeling well. She was hugging herself loosely and kicking her legs in the air. Roy felt so bad for her; he hated seeing his niece like this.

“I’ll try talking to her again after this turn. What is this footwork I’m supposed to do?”

He listened attentively as she explained how bowlers took four steps and finished with a slide, and attempted to do it. He ended up winging the ball straight into the gutter and twinging his bad knee. He glared at Splits as he sat down.

“Go on, then, throw your fancy ball and make it look easy,” he growled.

Appreciating the view as she did, Roy put an arm around Phoebe. “How you doing?” he whispered.

“My stomach really hurst,” she whispered back.

“Have you gone to the bathroom? I know it’s gross to talk about, but sometimes that can help.”

“I can’t get up.”

Concerned, Uncle Roy turned to face her squarely. “Why not?”

Phoebe was reluctant to answer, but this time, Roy did press her.

“Come on, tell me.”

“…There’s blood on my skirt.”

Oh. Oh. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuck.

Phoebe was on the verge of tears, so Roy did his best to keep his face and his voice soft. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It happens. Come on, don’t be embarrassed about it.”

“But Uncle Roy,” she tried to interrupt.

“I know something about all that. I have a sister, you know, and past girlfriends. It’s natural. It happens.”

“But Uncle Roy, I don’t know what to do.”

Oh, fuck.

Roy bolted up and met Splits on the lane approach.

“What did she say?” asked Splits.

“She just got her period. I think it’s her first one, because she said she doesn’t fucking know what to do. How the fuck am I supposed to help her? I can’t go in there with her, and I don’t have any of the supplies. She needs Sofia for this.”

Splits waited for him to be done before speaking. “Do you want me to show her what to do?”

“… You would do that?”

“No offense, Roy, but you can’t help in this situation. You said so yourself, you can’t go in there and show her what to do. I’ve been through this, and I have supplies. Let me help.”

Roy could have kissed her, but he restrained himself. Phoebe needed Splits more than he did at the moment. “You’re the shit. Thank you.”

Splits gave him a small smile. “I’m aware. Now let me get Phoebe set up.”

She grabbed her backpack and put on a dorky set of bowling shoe covers. Roy couldn’t hear what was said, but Phoebe got up and followed Splits to the other end of the bowling alley, where the women’s toilets were.

“Practice while we’re gone!” she called as they walked away. “Bowl mine and Phoebe’s frames, and see if you can’t get a strike by the time we get back!”

They disappeared into the women’s room after that, and Roy forced himself to focus on bowling rather than how worried he was. He tried to keep his elbow straight, and to take four deliberate steps before he threw, and to not aggravate his knee during the slide, but it was a lot to remember. He made it into a mantra as he breathed through each shot.

Straight. Step. Step. Slide…

Straight. Step. Step. Slide…

Straight. Step. Step… Sticking. No. Fu-

It took you a few minutes to comfort Phoebe in the bathroom, on opposite sides of the stall door. It took a few more minutes to talk her through what to do. You felt sorry for the poor girl, but also a bit frustrated. Wasn’t Roy’s sister Sofia a nurse? Hadn’t she done anything to prepare this sweet child for the horrors of Aunt Flo’s monthly visit? Why had this responsibility fallen on you?

You coped the same way you did with anything else uncomfortable: through distraction. You got Phoebe chatting eventually about her school football team, which Roy apparently coached, and then moved on to the topic of favorite foods. The girl came out of the stall at that point, and surprised you with a hug.

“What is this for?” you asked.

Phoebe replied, “For helping me. I didn’t know what I was going to do, and I couldn’t ask Uncle Roy. And for giving me what I needed. Thank you.”

“Well, I’m not done yet, but you’re welcome. I still have to introduce you to the miracle cure. Now wash your hands, and we’ll get ourselves some dark chocolate.”

Phoebe released you from the hug and did as she was told. You were waiting quietly to hand her some paper towels when you both clearly heard, from across the bowling alley, an explosive, deafening “Fuck!” followed by several more in quick succession.

Looking up at you as she took the offered paper towels, Phoebe observed, “That doesn’t sound good.”

No, it did not. You rushed out of the bathrooms and back to your lane, leaving Phoebe trailing behind you. Even from a distance, you could see that Roy was on the ground, scooting toward the couch behind the lane. He was steadily cursing.

“What happened?” you demanded as you got close. He had turned bright red, either in pain, embarrassment, or both.

“There was sticky shit somewhere that I fucking stepped in, and then my shoe didn’t fucking slide and I fucked my shit knee. Fuck!”

“Can you get up?”

He shot you a glare and growled through clenched teeth. “If I could, would I still be on the fucking floor?”

Behind the rage, you could see how wounded the man’s pride was. There was a panic in his eyes, too. Your heart hurt for him as you held out a hand. “Here. Let me help you up.”

Roy’s hand was shaking as he took yours. With him bracing against the couch, you were able to help pull him onto one leg. He completely avoided putting weight on his bad knee. You were shocked at how strong he was; he was using you to steady himself more than pull himself up, powering himself up with the one leg while holding the injured one straight out.

Roy was issuing a steady stream of obscenities that didn’t even make sense, and some of them were new to you, but you tuned him out as you helped him sit down. First Phoebe, and now you had to take care of Roy! He wasn’t going to be able to walk, you suspected, judging by the horrible way his knee seemed to be on the side of his leg rather than the front.

You sat down on the couch next to him, and Phoebe sat at his other side to nestle into his ribs. His face was drawn now, and his leg beginning to shake.

“Fuck, I am so sorry, this was meant to be a fun night out.”

“Don’t apologize, Roy. We’ll take care of this. What do you normally do when something like this happens?” you asked.

“Well, normally I would pop it back into place, but my physio told me I had to stop or I could damage the fucking nerves and never walk again, so I’m not doing that shit.”

“Okay, so no popping back in.” You were honestly a little relieved; you didn’t want to imagine what that would look and sound like. “So let’s try to relieve the pain, then.”

Even in his present state, Roy furrowed his eyebrows at you in a glare. “The pain isn’t that bad,” he lied.

That had you mad. “Bullshit, Roy!” It was the first time you’d sworn around him, and he sat up a little straighter looking shocked but also proud. “You’re trembling like a kicked puppy, and I can already see that your knee’s swelling. I’m getting you ice, and Tylenol, and then we’re figuring out what to do next. Don’t move.”

Roy put his hands out in surrender. You marched to the snack bar and forcefully scooped a bag of ice. You were overwhelmed, and panicking a bit, and didn’t know the first thing about recurring knee injuries, or how to treat a headstrong footballer who denied that he was obviously in pain. Once you had the ice, you brought it back to Lane 24 and held it out silently for him to take, which he did. Then you silently packed up your bowling gear and stowed it in your locker. You were embarrassed now by your outburst; you’d been raised to be respectful, and you’d seen Roy recoil under your sharp tongue. You’d freaked out because you cared, but it hadn’t made it right. After making sure your stuff was safely locked away, you went back to Roy and Phoebe.

“I’m sorry I shouted,” you apologized. “I was panicked because I didn’t know what to do, and this wasn’t how I expected my night to go. But I have a plan now. Roy, we need to get you to an emergency room. Can you walk at all?”

The man considered his propped-up, iced leg. “Fucking scared to,” he admitted, “and I don’t trust it enough to drive. You’ll have to drive us.” He dug in his pocket – which was difficult with Phoebe on top of it – and tossed you his keys. “You can drive, right?”

You scoffed. “Just because I don’t have a car doesn’t mean I don’t know how to drive. Are you ready to go?”

He grunted, and hopped up on one leg before you could even offer your help. You quickly tucked yourself under his left arm so you could support him as he hopped carefully toward the car park. Getting him into his black monstrosity of a vehicle was difficult, as was getting him out of it at the emergency room. He was forced into a wheelchair once there and rolled away to have his knee properly reset, leaving you and phoebe to kill time in the waiting room watching videos on your phone.

When Roy was wheeled back out an hour later, his knee sported a giant black brace, and he had orders not to put weight on it for a few days, which he accepted with a growl. He was strangely subdued, not saying a word while being discharged, struggling once more into the car, or watching as you drove to his house for the first time; Phoebe had to navigate for you. He didn’t even have any fucks to give once you were all inside and had gotten him situated on his couch. Only when Phoebe went to bed did he break his silence to say goodnight to her before she went to the room he kept for her. That left the two of you alone together for the first time all night, and although you wished it were under better circumstances, it was still nice to sit down next to him without Phoebe around.

“Well, that was an… interesting night,” you probed.

“Tell me about it,” Roy grunted. “I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

You both looked at his knee, in its brace and propped up on a mountain of pillows that Phoebe had built for him. Roy looked so tired, older than you’d seen him before. He looked defeated.

“Is there anything you need before I leave?” you asked.

His dark eyes snapped up to your face.

“Leave?” he said incredulously. It’s fucking late, and dark! What if something happened to you?”

His outburst made you realize just how deeply he cared for you, as did the arm he put around you to pull you closer.

“You have to stay,” he whispered. “I’d never forgive myself if something fucking happened to you. I’ve got plenty of space here for you, especially since I’ll be stuck on this couch tonight. You can have my bed, if you like.”

It was a loaded offer. You craned your neck to look at him.

“That’s a big offer, Roy. I don’t know what I’m doing with you. I really like you.”

“I really like you, too.”

“Then what are we, Roy? What is this?” you demanded, motioning between you and him. “We’ve been going out for a month, and you say you want to do this right, and I do, too, but I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours! Especially tonight; I’ve had to deal with a lot tonight, and I was happy to do it, but it was way more than you could have expected from a normal acquaintance. And now you’re asking me to stay the night! I’m sorry I’m yelling, but I’m tired, and I’m stressed, and this is a lot to process. Do I mean something more to you or not?”

Roy let out a long, tired sigh. “Is this about the fucking ‘night out with my girls’ comment? Because I’ve been kicking myself for it since I said it.”

He looked to you for some sort of reaction, but you didn’t give him one, despite how eagerly you were hanging onto his words. Not getting what he wanted, he reached for you and took hold of your arm before continuing, almost like he was afraid you were going to bolt.

“Right… Before I got landed with Phoebe for the night, I had this grand plan to… but then my sister called, and I had Phoebe underfoot, and everything happened with her, and then my idiot self went and dislocated my fucking knee… It was going to be a much better night.”

You got the sense that he was being vague because he was struggling to allow himself to be vulnerable.

“What are you trying to say, Roy?” you pressed.

He slid his hand down the arm that he was still holding to interlace his fingers with yours. Staring at your hand in his, he murmured, “This past month has been fucking amazing, and it’s because of you. Before the bullshit of tonight started, and the plan changed, I was going to tell you that I really like being with you. And after everything tonight, I feel it even more strongly. That was girlfriend-level shit you handled tonight, and you didn’t even break a sweat.”

Roy finally looked up at you with the softest, sweetest, most insecure expression on his face. Your world narrowed until it consisted of just the two of you, face to face.

“Would you be my girlfriend? Officially?”

You’d waited a long month to hear those words! Nodding happily, you breathed, “Yes. I would love to be your girlfriend. That’s all I’ve wanted since our first date.”

He grinned his dazzling grin, although this one was a bit sleepy. Then he wrapped both arms around you and pulled you into the tightest, warmest hug you’d ever felt. Within those strong arms was somewhere you could stay forever, you mused as you pressed your face into his shoulder. The hug lasted almost forever, but he ended it and turned you so that your noses were almost brushing.

“Can I kiss you? Properly?”

You gave the slightest of nods, and then he tucked a hand behind your neck and closed the distance between your lips and his. His kiss was deep, filled with more longing than you’d ever been kissed with, and long enough that you both had to break away to breathe.

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Now will you stay?”

Roy’s eyelids were heavy. He seemed to be basking in a self-satisfied happiness, but also looked so tired. You couldn’t say no to him, laid up as he was. He would need help when he woke up.

“Okay, I’ll stay, but I feel bad taking your room.”

“Don’t. It’s upstairs, so I couldn’t get up there if I wanted to.”

“All right. Do you need me to get anything from up there before I go to bed?”

You watched him do his adorable head tilt as he thought. Then he answered, “My pajamas are hanging on the back of the door, and there’s a pair of crutches in the downstairs hall closet. I should have everything else I need in the bathroom down here from the last time I seriously injured myself.”

“Okay, I’ll go grab those. Just a sec.”

You went to the hall closet by the front door first, taking in the décor now that you weren’t supporting a hobbling Roy. The house was much homier than you’d expected of hm. There were tons of pictures on the walls, of his old teams, scenery shots from traveling, and a family that possessed such distinctive eyebrows that they had to be the Kents. Most of the family photos were older, and they depicted Roy as a young child or a surly teenager in a Sunderland uniform. These were the only pictures he was in, which led you to infer that he had taken the rest.

The crutches were in the back of the hall closet, hidden underneath a black Richmond parka and multiple other dark articles of clothing. You fished them out and brought them to your boyfriend – how surreal that word felt! – sprawled on his dark brown leather couch.

“Where do you want these?” you questioned.

Scowling at the hated crutches, Roy gestured to the arm of the couch and the end table next to him. “Just lean them here so I can reach them later. I don’t want to see them.”

You teased, “Obviously. I knew that from how far you’d buried them in the closet. Have you thought of anything else you need from upstairs?”

“I dunno. Maybe my pillow and the book on my nightstand?”

“How will I know which pillow is ‘your’ pillow?”

“It’s the only one that looks used. Trust me, you’ll know.”

“Whatever you say. And how do I find your room?”

Roy pointed abruptly at the ceiling above him. “Take the stairs and make a U-turn. It’s directly above us.”

You found his room easily following his directions. His pajamas, consisting of a gray tee shirt and, rather embarrassingly, boxers, hung neatly on two hooks on the back of the door, which you grabbed before really taking in the room. There were books stacked up on the dresser, as well as the one he wanted on the nightstand. All of the furniture was old and of dark wood, the bedding plain and charcoal colored. More family pictures hung on the wall opposite the bed, and a picture of AFC Richmond at a goodbye party for Ted Lasso.

Roy’s pillow was indeed easy to find. There were three perfect identical pillows on the bed, and then there was a lumpy old thing that had obviously been with him for a long time. You grabbed it and trotted back downstairs, where Roy was watching for your return.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I was that carefree on stairs, even before my last game,” he said. “I’ve gotten old as shit.”

“Not old for a normal person,” you replied, handing him his things, “just for a footballer. How old are you, anyway?”

“42,” he moaned. “Fuckin’ ancient.”

Your mind flashed to a book you’d enjoyed, and you cracked a joke hoping he’d also read it. “That’s not ancient, that’s the answer! You’re at the age where you just need to know the question, and everything will fall into place.”

Roy puzzled it out for a moment. “Hitchkiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?”

You nodded and watched as he tilted his head back, rolling his eyes as he did so. “You’re suck a dork,” he sighed.

“Hey, you got the reference, which means you’re just as much of a dork as I am.”

He smiled tiredly. “Fine, we’re both dorks who’ve read Douglas Adams. Happy?”

His eyes and head looked heavy as he gazed at you, and despite the chaotic night he’d had, he seemed content. You decided to go to bed for the night. Before you did, you found the kitchen and got him some water, as there was a prescription you’d picked up on the way back that you knew he hadn’t taken yet.

When you walked back into the living room, he was pulling a well-loved blanket off of the back of the couch. He took the water you offered appreciatively with one hand and grabbed your arm with the other, pulling you closer.

“That really was girlfriend-level shit tonight,” he rumbled, “and I’m really grateful. Good night.”

He tugged your arm, pulling you close enough that he could kiss you. Sleepy Roy’s kisses were gentle, tender, and when he broke it to sink back into the couch, you kissed the top of his head. Then you went upstairs, stole an extra gray tee from his dresser to sleep in, and climbed into your new boyfriend’s bed. It hadn’t been the date you’d expected, but despite the chaos, it had been a very good one, all things considered.

Tag list: @preciousbabypeter @harry-bowie-mercury @amieinghigh @onceuponaoneshot

[genericpuff]

Hi! So I'm really liking your LO AU so far, but I do have a few critiques. For one thing, the art is inconsistent in some places (ex: Hades has a long nose in the first panel, but then every appearance after, it's ordinary; ironically, I've heard this be said as a critique about the original too), and when Hermes explains why he got a job in the Underworld, the text is really hard to see when the red text is set against a black speech bubble, even when zooming in. This might also just be a Tumblr thing, but some panels also appear slightly blurry compared to others.

Aw I'm glad you like it! And thanks for the pointers! I am going to respond to them in my own defense a lil' if you don't mind (but rest assured I do recognize them as issues):

1.) That first episode was my first time drawing a Rekindled episode in full color (before I had even decided I wanted to stick with color, back then I was planning on just doing black and grey with color gradients) and it was more of a tribute to S1 LO/a coloring test that doubled as a potential opening for Rekindled (due to how it does diverge slightly from LO and is still relevant to Rekindled's plot). So that was before I realized looking back on old LO material that Hades' nose is, in fact, normal in the original pilot version of the comic! So I decided "Yeah, I'm gonna give him his normal hooked nose back" and it wasn't until I was on episode 2 or 3 that I realized that meant Episode 1 still had Pinocchio nose Hades 🤣 So that's something I may go back and fix later on but that's just like, the context of what happened there LMAO

2.) Yes, I've had someone else also point out to me that text issue and I've been neglecting going back and fixing it, that will be something I try to get to tonight!

3.) That's unfortunately a Tumblr thing, my way around it is just to crop each panel individually as much as I can to ensure they show up clearly in the feed, but not every panel will show up equally (despite all being drawn and exported in the same resolution). So my best recommendation for the user end is to either click it open on mobile or on desktop, click it open then right click "Open Image in New Tab". Tumblr doesn't display images vertically quite as cleanly as WT does but I have no plans to upload to WT (as I would get crucified by RS, WT, and the LO fanbase) so this is the only workaround for now until I find some kind of alternative. Sorry about that 😅

Thank you for taking the time to leave those points! Regarding #1 and #2, those are just things I can find time at some point to go back and tweak, #2 is easier than #1 but I'm sure I can still find a way LMAO In the meantime, I hope those responses clear up your questions or concerns!

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead In a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 22

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3. If you don’t want to wait for new chapters, the complete story is on Patreon for only $4 with bonus stories! If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

Damián was true to his word. They arrived at Dorothy’s before there was a large crowd.

Alex could feel the music through the floor, up through his legs and into his chest. It made him slightly nauseous. His teeth rattled. He didn’t know a gay club would fill him with such sensory issues.

Damián took his hand and weaved them through the crowd. He shouted something at Alex which he couldn’t hear over the music blaring through the speakers.

Alex shook his head and shouted back, “What?”

“Do you want to get a drink?” Damián repeated, pointing behind him to the bar.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

“What do you want?”

“What do people drink at clubs?”

Heavy bass started again with a new song seamlessly beginning a few seconds before the second one ended. Another widely-acclaimed gay anthem. Another song that made Alex walk a little off balance up the few stairs to the bar.

Damián got them close to the bartender. All of the seats were occupied by people at least 10 years younger than Alex. He began to wonder if he had missed out on something during his younger years. Maybe he had missed out on some major queer developmental stage because he hadn’t had any other gay people around him. No one besides his younger sister.

There was never anyone to talk to about how certain things worked. No one to ask where men met other men or what places other queer people liked to hang out. He couldn’t even ask anyone how gay sex worked, and his frame of reference only ever came from articles from gay journals and—though he knew it was totally inaccurate—porn.

He worried, as Damián handed him a whiskey sour, that he had missed his chance at being young and carefree. Sure, his 30s weren’t old. He wasn’t knocking at death’s door. But seeing the younger people surround him in rainbow tube tops and lace shirts, he felt there was never going to be a chance for him to experience that.

There had never been a group of 20-somethings that he had partied with and made dumb decisions only 20-somethings made. All Alex could do, with a little bitterness settling in his chest, was be with one other 30-something and make the dumb decisions 30-somethings made.

Damián led him towards the back of the club. The music was still loud, but it wasn’t deafening anymore. They slid into an empty booth together.

“I’m going to give you a second to chill,” Damián said. “And I usually don’t drink all that much, but I did open a tab. So, if you want anything else, let the bartender know it’ll be on my card.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! This is your first time out at a place like this! Let me take care of you!”

Everyone looked like they were having fun. Damián watched the people around them.

Damián reached out to lay his hand over Alex’s. He looked really nice. He did wear the promised crop top. It was tight and showed off the wonderful way his waist pulled in like a triangle.

He was gorgeous, who was Alex kidding? He was so beautiful, it made Alex’s heart ache.

Alex eventually felt the pleasant warmth of a buzz. He wouldn’t call himself tipsy, but he did definitely relax. Sometimes he felt like he was born with tension in his shoulders, like his the stress there rivaled Atlas’. But it was all gone then. And maybe it was because of the drink or maybe it was because Damián was rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

“Want to check out some of the front?” Damián asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to. But if you want to see what the other gays are up to, it’ll all be up there.”

“Can I get another drink first?”

They abandoned their seats, and Damián ordered him another whiskey sour and, at Alex’s insistence, closed his tab. Alex didn’t want the temptation of easily accessible alcohol there if he got nervous. He didn’t want to risk getting too drunk, too sloppy in front of Damián. It wouldn’t look good. Even worse, he didn’t want Damián to be forced into taking care of him.

Damián took his hand and led him through the crowd to the dance floor. Most of the “dancing” consisted of arms up in the air and butts to crotches. Alex thought he would be overwhelmed by the display, but he was intrigued.

There were two butch women with their arms around each other partially out of affection but also partially so they could support one another. They wore baggy clothing and clunky boots. One wore a bowtie that Alex really liked. Their beers sloshed around, and they sang into one another’s mouths.

A young man, thin as a rake with a binder visible at the armholes of his tank top, was grinding against another man. Laughing, the other man spun him around and pulled him into a kiss.

A handful of people had climbed on stage where drag queens were supposed to perform at later hours. They hyped each other up. They danced and screamed along to the song, absolutely not caring at all that they looked silly.

And then there was a streak of gray hair that shocked Alex. A streak of gray hair off to the side, nestled close to a salt and pepper beard. Textured hands held cocktails. Little, subtle lines creased when mouths laughed.

Alex held his breath. On the packed floor, they were the only people Alex could see. They were laughing and holding each other and enjoying themselves, firmly in the place they knew they belonged. Flashes of teeth pressed against each other, disappearing for long seconds at a time.

The bass thundered across the floor. Alex licked his lips. He tasted the sweetness of sugar and a touch of lime that sent a shock through his tongue.

Damián wrapped his arm around Alex’s waist and pressed his lips to Alex’s ear.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” he shouted. “I know that look you have.”

It was beautiful. The beautiful knowledge that Alex was having a moment every other queer person had and that knowledge that Alex belonged in that club. He hardly felt like he belonged anywhere and yet there he was. In his space. With his people.

The bass died under his feet. A new song began playing. Quick strumming, rapid lyrics, and then a dive into new a new bassline. Alex left his drink on an empty table, feeling sorry for the staff who would have to clean up after him, and they made their way into the crowd.

Damián had turned his head towards the sky and was singing. There was a large smile on his face. The spinning lights on the ceiling played around on his face. There was a blue cast over his features and then yellow and then purple and then blue again. It all made him look much softer than Alex had noticed before.

Damián was singing his heart out, and Alex was surprised to realize that he also knew the song. He had never sung in public before, but he started to. His voice blended in with the sea of everyone else’s. He knew he wasn’t a good singer, and it didn’t seem to matter. No one there was really trying all that hard.

He couldn’t even hear himself, but Damián still noticed he had joined. He looked down at Alex with pure glee and stepped around so that they were facing each other. A bachelorette party bumped into him while trying to slide through the congestion. He didn’t pay attention to them. He just re-adjusted himself so he and Alex were closer.

Alex didn’t know what to do with his hands. Clumsily, he reached for Damián. He held his hands and then, not letting himself think about it too long, moved them to Damián’s hips. Damián matched him, and it was like Alex’s body was on fire.

He continued to sing through his heart racing and his head spinning. The music slowed, the instruments dropped out, and Alex could hear Damián’s voice deliver the next lines, off-key. And then, Damián’s hands were on his face, fingers wrapped along his soft jaw.

And fuck. He loved Damián.

Weighing how responsible it was to fall in love with someone he had just met would come later. Now, Alex was wondering who was going to make the first move.

It would have been expected for Damián to lean down for a kiss first. But it was Alex to lifted his chin and pulled Damián towards his lips. It was Alex who pressed his body even closer to Damián, somehow finding little gaps the close. He moved his hands up to Damián’s chest. Now knowing what to do with them after that, he let them roam over a few inches in circles.

Damián tasted like the burning of whiskey and sugar and citrus of his drink. It was a little sickly-sweet. Alex could smell his aftershave—it was subtle but earthy. A solid earthy smell. Not something watered down with a sting of alcohol. Damián had chosen something classy for the night. Something he knew Alex was going to catch when they were so close.

All of Alex’s senses were devoted to Damián, and he was overstimulated by how splendid it was.

A little sweat made Damián’s shirt cling to him a little, and Alex wasn’t sure if he was supposed to find that sexy. Surely, he was also covered in a layer of sweat and surely, that couldn’t have been sexy.

When Damián’s tongue started poking into his mouth, he stopped thinking about sweat.

Damián pulled away first.

“Do you want to leave?” he shouted. “Head back to your place?”

“Yes!”

Alex wasn’t always great at taking hints, but he knew what that invitation meant. Damián took his hand again and pushed their way past another bachelorette party, earning dirty looks from the hoard of bleach-blonde women and a scoff from one in a sash that read Bride-To-Be. Fucking heterosexuals, Alex thought.

They made it outside to the almost-shady ally entrance to the club. The cold air was a relief, almost shocking. It brought Alex back to his senses just a little. Just enough to help him realize he was sporting a hard-on and that he was desperate for an Uber to show up soon.

“They’re seven minutes away,” Damián said.

They grabbed each other again and began a string of sloppy kisses. Alex had never kissed someone so much before. He hoped he was doing it right. He hoped it wasn’t gross to do it in an ally way where other people could see.

“Are you okay with this?” Damián asked, dragging his hand through Alex’s hair. “Are we on the same page?”

“Are we going to fuck?”

Alex liked the word “fuck.” It was good. It gave the impression he knew what he was talking about.

Damián laughed, and Alex’s lips were pressed against his teeth for a second. “I think we’re headed in that direction.”

[archive-double-knots]

life update since it’s 2:20 am and I can’t sleep.

In particular, I’m sure a lot of you remembered that Cider died a few months ago. I’ve been dealing with the grief, the recovery, etc. & I’m finally at a better place where I don’t cry every time I say his name. No, I’m not getting a new bunny right now. I’m not ready yet, and that’s okay. but hopefully by the time the 4H kids start showing their bunnies, I’ll feel more open to the idea. My hope is that I’ll feel ready a month after Easter, as that’s usually when there’s many more bunnies in need of homes. Reminder: don’t get a bunny for Easter :)

Beyond that, there was also the issue with my grandma. Who, again you probably remember, is basically my mother & got diagnosed with cancer. So the good news is that she’s halfway done with treatment, one of her 2 tumors has shrunk significantly, and she’s doing really really well. The less than good news is that she is on oxygen permanently now, which means that our whole routine & lives have completely changed. We’ve been calling it the ‘new normal’; ya know, doctor visits multiple times a week usually, trying not to step on the oxygen cord, family chores being split up differently, etc etc. again, all to say, we’re figuring it out. It’s going pretty well, all things considered. Definitely a better outlook than a few months ago.

Lastly, you’ve also probably noticed that I simply don’t do as much tumblr stuff anymore. And it’s not that I don’t want too. I’ve simply noticed that my mental health drops when I’m on tumblr a lot, and that’s obviously no one’s fault. It kinda just stems from the feeling of being on a lifeboat amongst other ships. It’s possible to reach out, but damn, it can be hard with the waves. And that feeling often leads to me feeling really disconnected from all of you, even though I don’t want to be. There’s also the feeling of just feeling like I care more than others about certain things, and that’s okay! But it gets disheartening after a while, especially when you think of someone as important to you, but you realize you aren’t to them the same way. It’s not a bad thing, but it can make writing here feel lackadaisical, especially compared to like discord one on one. Which is partially why I’ve sorta stepped back. I never want to be gone, but I wanna be able to do things by myself, for myself, or at least, not on tumblr. I still hang out on mobile, and check in when I switch tabs (which is probably why it seems so sporadic when I’m on lol), and when something like the new owl hour episode drops I’ll be here! But uh. Yeah, I am cooking a lot more, hanging out with friends, i help with the toddler during the day, I stream video games, refound my love of word-searches, and will be attempting to do origami more since i miss having hobbies ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ anyway, that’s about it, I think?

Oh also, grad school sucks lol that’s a thing too. I’m not good at school anymore and idk how that happened, but it turns out, I’m not good @ nonfiction writing lol who could’ve guessed

[shriekinghavoc]

Bad End (?)

Explanation under the cut.

A while ago, I got to thinking about the whole Monarch arc and how that was initially- in my opinion- a very good villain arc idea for Hank. It still sucked and being a dictator that thought he should personally control the behaviors and actions of everyone around him "for their own good" is DEFINITELY NOT anywhere near his brand of villainy if he were ever to turn to it, but the concept of a terrible, awful event ruining his view on the world and breaking him into a shell of his former self? Love that for any character, honestly, and I'd like to see it done more and done appropriately.

But villain arcs can be a bit of a cliche and honestly I think there are more horrible things you can do to a character than turn them into an outright villain.

Thus the Unity!Hank and Barter!Dawn aus came about.

Barter Dawn:

Dawn and Hank complete their stint in Druspa Tau as normal for the most part. They find T'Charr and Terataya, dying as they did in canon. Before this, however, Dawn confessed to Hank the truth of his brother's death: That the gods who gave them their powers took them from Don and gave them to her moments before he died- possibly taking away his power to defend himself and ultimately causing his death before bringing her to him. At hearing their story, he realizes the truth that his brother's death wasn't just an accident- they'd maliciously intended to kill him in such a way.

And this time, with that knowledge of how they'd manipulated others before- not just him, but Don himself and even Dawn- he resists T'Charr's temptations and manages to pull Dawn away before she can accept Terataya's necklace.

The Gods die, and Hank and Dawn remained trapped for some time until Ren- insistent on bringing them back along with her- asks Barter to bring them back to their world as well. Barter agrees at seeing they're now without power and that Druspa Tau is now without a diety, darkly commenting that this power vacuum can't stay open forever, and that he's sure this will be enough to cover Hank and Dawn's "tab."

Dawn says they have to go back and help- that Barter can't be trusted in such a powerful, ancient dimension- but Hank is adamant that he is done with the life of a super hero. He won't be a piece on anyone's board again, and that's final.

Dawn eventually is able to find her way back to Barter, and offers herself as an apprentice of sorts. Hesitant, he decides it would be way too fun to miss out on, and it isn't before too long he suggests to her that Terataya and T'Charr- along with the powers they once gifted her- aren't gone forever. She realizes his interpretation of ruling this dimension and filling its power vacuum was more in the way of whispering in ears and pulling favors than outright ruling it with an iron fist. This brings comfort, but it's not long until Rome finds and confronts her about her role as a servant of Terataya, and she resolves she will reclaim that power again in service of the people Terataya left behind. She spends years in that realm, aging a month to every day on earth in her mind, but her appearance never changing in her time there.

It takes a little over 223,000 years for her to go after Barter- only about 20 years on Earth. She drags him out into the light as the manipulator of the Druspa Tau people- the unchanging, immature people who demand ever more of not just their realm but their figure heads. Barter is disgusted at this betrayal, but pride shines through him as he taunts Dawn, "reminding" her before the new dimension that she did this for power and not for the people there. He gives her one final thing, one thing he asks nothing for in return: His curse.

With this curse- the curse to never be able to freely give but instead to only be able to give something you're fairly compensated for at the risk of death- he curses her further, letting her know it's his last wish that this power will corrupt her as deliciously as it once corrupted him into a servant of herself.

She returns to the mortal world, aging partially as if she'd lived there the whole time, and there, she makes her deals and takes up Barter's position. She vows it will be different this time- that not every deal must be made at the cost of the other person who asks something of her. With all of this power- Barter's shop, his titles, his old contacts- she now must find a way to help people.

But then she senses it: Terataya, alive and on earth, only a sliver of their original power in a new form... a new Dove.

A new Hawk.

A new deal.

Unity Hank:

Starting on a more gruesome day: Hank lays in the sand at Monarch's feet, watching as his partner was torn to shreds but still paralyzed from Monarch's attack. He wants to get up- to fight- but just as soon as the anger washes over him, it's replaced by a further paralyzing sadness.

He's seen this film before, and rather than finishing it out, he wants to turn it off. He allows himself to crawl into his sadness and accept it like a friend rather than push it away with more anger. Even as Monarch taunts him further, wishing to stir him into his rage, he can only sit there numbly, as unmoving as Dawn's corpse.

Eventually, bored or for fear of being caught, Monarch leaves him there and he's sent for by none other than Captain Atom and Doctor Fate, the two having tracked Monarch's signature and are surprised by the foe's disappearance until Fate checks the status of Hank as well as Dawn's wounds, a chaotic energy permeating them both, but at a less pure frequency than Hawk puts out. As Hawk eventually powers down into Hank Hall, he's returned and he's placed into jail without bail while awaiting his trial- the trial for his actions in trying to resurrect Don only a while before Monarch came to kill his living partner.

The testimony of several heroes gets him out of a guilty sentence, but the court of public opinion is more cruel. Ren tries to console him as he turns his back on his life as a hero, but ultimately, he can't lay next to her in bed without seeing Dawn's charred skin or see a threat on the news without tensing and the realization hits him that he's truly afraid of becoming Hawk again without a Dove.

After what happened with Don's attempted revival, he doesn't trust himself and doesn't believe anyone should. He thinks he should be arrested for what happened, but he also doesn't wish anyone into the role of being his babysitter.

So he finds Doctor Fate and learns more about the lords of order and those of chaos, hoping to find someone willing to both take his powers and use them for good, but he can only seem to find one or the other- most of the order lords not willing to touch it and those of chaos not delivering any promises he believes.

In his search, he finds a new Dove- a lead singer in a band named Wiley. He's stupid and funny and sweet... all of the things that makes Hank's stomach turn when he thinks about the kind of things powers like his own do to people like that.

So Hank decides to talk to Wiley. In actuality, he talks to Terataya through Wiley on the bet that Terataya is more present than the god made it seem they would be when asking Hank and Dawn to take them on. If a god can choose a new form, then perhaps they can be talked into letting that form go.

In his efforts, Hank offers Terataya the one thing they and T'Charr truly wanted: To be together.

He offers his own body as a vessel for them both- promising they can take him far away from here to the moon or Druspa Tau or the Chaos Realm or some other dimension where they won't be disturbed the the lords here and they can have their unity. He promises to live a long life if this offer is ignored- to chain T'Charr to him or allow some Lord of Order to chain him up somewhere so that he and T'Charr can suffer an eternity together while Terataya suffers an eternity apart.

And just like that, Terataya agrees, knowing that there is a sick kind of love between order and chaos on display in Hank's sacrifice alone- that he'd be willing to give himself away for a Dove he didn't even know.

T'Charr accepts as well, the two sharing Hank's body as they'd planned to share the child of a Hawk and Dove. The universe finally quiet, Hank does not return home. Wiley cannot remember the encounter. Ren does not know where he went.

This is a bad ending, but in Unity Hank's mind, it's the best he deserved.

He quietly watches other futures- not other dimensions necessarily, but possible futures to try and pick out one that could be better for all three of them. T'Charr and Terataya delight in their time together watching their final puppet struggle after he's already so carefully wrapped himself in their strings. He resolves not to interfere with other Hawks and Doves worlds away- those that exist by nature of his calculations- but he knows his tendency towards chaos may eventually win. Until then, he'll spend his time wishing for something he can't even name.

---

If you have any other questions- I've literally been thinking about these AUs for a little over two years and think about them way too often so I can probably answer them haha- do not be afraid to ask!

[vsnotresponding]

CHAPTER 11 - THE SILENCE AFTER THE STORM - KARMA II

masterpost

I fall, my foot stumbling with a pile of books and papers I don’t remember leaving under the desk, knees hitting the floor, then my back when I roll over. I allow myself to stay like that, temple against arm, eyes closed, the darkness around me comforting.

Sighing, I turn, still on the floor, and read the spine of one of the books. Myths and legends of the sea. It belongs to those I brought from the Umar’s mansion, the house of my mother’s childhood, and of mine. It’s one I was using for my project, discarded months ago. I don’t even know how long it’s been exactly, I’ve stopped counting the days.

I stretch an arm blindly towards the papers. Qudra, I read, an old word for creating.

I let the paper fall on my face and close my eyes again, allowing the night and breeze to surround me, cradling me. That was the name of the project I was working on, inspired by Jhai, or Khitji, or whatever. The legendary creator, that healed the earth with their thought; that, it was thought, was immortal.

Eyes open, I sit straight so suddenly that the world turns dark for an instant, my brain moving inside my head.

It’s a dangerous idea, reckless. But it could work, an improbable but not impossible “could work”—it’s, more than nothing, more than we currently have.

It might work precisely because of that, for the risk it supposes.

I stand up, slower this time, trying to avoid the vertigo sensation from before. It’s late, I know, as I know that Áine needs her rest, always keeping tabs on Ira when she’s not working with me, watchful, waiting for a change.

I might find her beside her now.

I pick the paper up, gather some more, and run to Ira’s room. The corridors dark in some areas, most of the imitations destroyed by Ira’s connection. They pass by me, the sound of my steps echoing on the walls, the silence of the palace eerie.

I can imagine what Áine will tell me, nothing new. Before nothing, that the shahin might have allowed me back with the imitators because they need me, but that he hasn’t authorized to work on my private project. And next, that this could kill her, which is, truly, what’s most likely to happen.

And it’s true, but it gives us a chance, small as it is, to save Ira. And I’ll take it no matter what.

I think about the chance of it all to calm me down, in the coincidence of picking up this paper amongst the rest.

I smile. My mom didn’t believe in chance.

I barely force myself to stop at the door, to contain myself from opening it too suddenly like a hurricane, to not shout that I’ve found a solution.

Instead, I pause. I allow myself some time to get my breathing back to normal, my lungs burning at the exercise.

I open the door.

The small room is in total darkness, except for the window, moonlight sneaking in to fall on the two khithi inside.

Áine turn on her chair, and when she sees it’s me, gestures to close the door behind me. I do so, and when I’m at her side, I let the papers fall in front of her, on the bed.

She has Ira’s hand in between hers, the left one, her hold sure and tense, pointer finger on the inside of her wrist. I let myself look at her face, her bright orange eyes closed, her permanently broken nose, hair framing her face—peaceful in her sleep.

The expression makes a shiver run down my spine, ethereal, so different to what she’s like when awake.

It’s better than the one she had when she screamed at the Iria.

Something in my stomach turns, and I realize I miss her. How she used to argue with Garvan about the smallest things, how she laughed at me when she called me little king when I was too bossy during the experiments; how she so easily started to like us, how we started to like her too, to understand her.

I shake my head, focusing. Pointing at the paper, I distract Áine, that was too looking at her face. Waiting, perhaps, for her to react.

She reads the first line, remembers the name.

I wait for her refusal, for her to tell me this is a terrible idea.

It doesn’t come. In its place, she gathers the papers in her hands, letting go of Ira. Stands up and gives them back to me, and for a second I fear she won’t even say anything, like when my mother died, that she blames me for what happened.

But I know the thought is irrational and intrusive, that we are okay, that she forgave me for that and knows that I’ve tried to fix my mistakes since. Blame disappears as soon as it arrives.

I know we both share a part in both accidents, that we bear it together, on our shoulders. It doesn’t make it lighter, but it’s easier to bear, in a way.

“When do you think it’ll be ready?” her voice is soft, tired. It breaks the static silence of the room. Like me, I don’t think she can remember the last time she had a decent night's sleep.

Her question takes me by surprise. I take a deep sigh, I think I understand her. Like me, she’s desperate, after all.

“It won’t be perfect, not by a landslide,” I whisper back, “but I can start with the numbers right now.” I look at Ira, her breathing weak. “I’ll make Garvan help me tomorrow. We should be done in three days tops. I think it’s the reckless limit I’m willing to accept.”

She rubs her face, chasing sleep away.

“I’ll go in a while to help you, but tomorrow…”

“I get it.” She has to take care of the khithi that get to the palace daily, captured or volunteers, doesn’t matter. I add: “You know this is risky, right? It’s not even finished, it’s, for starters, something barely theoretical.”

I guess I ask to make sure we are both willing to accept the consequences this might bring. I look at Ira, she follows my eyes. Sighs.

“It’s our only and last chance, and she’s already dying.” Another sigh. She rubs her face again. “I won’t stop you this time, Karma, if that’s what you are looking for.”

I smile at her, barely an elevation of the corner of my mouth, and hug her.

I walk to my study without pause.

I have work to do.

and that would be part 1. i'll take a one-week break before starting with part 2. in the meantime, lots of tag games with excerpt and also an ask prompt set two years after the end of púlsar

tag list (ask to be added or removed): @my-cursed-prince @on-noon @aquil-writes @dotr-rose-love

[forever--darling]

writer's workshop

Can we normalize the fact that even though fandom writing is so popular, it as well as writing in general is not always an accepted career?

Writing I believe is hard to be successful in and I praise people that can do it. However, I also look down on myself for believing that I could never make a career out of it. That thought led me to choose other career paths where I felt like I could find the most success. Though I don't regret the major I have chosen, I still wonder why I thought I had to give up writing fanfiction considering many authors in the industry started out with writing about fandoms.

I gave up writing on Tumblr and writing fanfiction at all because I thought there'd be no point doing it when I went away to college. I wasn't majoring in anything English or writing-based, so I believed that it wasn't worth my time. So to focus on my science degree, I stopped writing and pushed this passion to the back of my mind after having been doing it for over five years. Mostly because of a preconceived idea that writing fanfiction and writing any sort of fiction at all could only be something that was accepted when I was a child and a teenager. (Which is not true, obviously)

Now two years after giving up this part of myself, I got more inspiration and decided to open a new tab again. Posting on here, was never for validation, but to share a part of me that I felt I couldn't share with the people in my life. I have realized that no matter how I choose to live my life, or what career path I take, I shouldn't feel that I have to give up things that make me happy -- neither should you.

I guess I am just wondering if other people experience this conflict the older they get while trying to balance it with a future lifestyle and/or that same preconceived idea that you have to give up writing fanfiction?

a/n: I encourage all writers or anyone who has thoughts to leave them below for a detailed discussion. If you would like to reach out personally through a direct message because it is more comfortable, that is totally fine too. I just would love to talk about this with anyone who might be interested or dealing with the same thing.

@forever--darling