#i’ve got to start playing the lottery or something because that is the only way achieving my dream of living in nyc is going to be possible

[ddaengju]

currently daydreaming about living in manhattan again. about how my free time could be spent wandering around window shopping or reading at a park. finding cute cafés and bookstores. just really absorbing the sounds of the city finally feeling content.

[fisshbones]

Strawberry Shortcake 🍰

A/N -> I don’t really like the ending :’( Slight changes to Aven’s back story. I’ve also never had strawberry shortcake so sorry if it’s inaccurate, i had to ask my gc for a  description. First attempt at cakeverse :3 Incase you don’t know what cake verse is: it’s basically where (cakes) are people that have scents that only (forks) can smell. And (forks) are people who can’t taste anything besides (cakes.) (plates/normals) are just normal people.

(Basically you eat Aventurine)

Cw: gn!fork!reader (no description) possibly ooc aventurine, cakeverse!Au, consensual cannibalism, gore, body horror, torture, mentions of slavery, slight aventurine backstory spoilers, slightly suggestive, death. !!DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!

Oh Aventurine tastes lovely. Just like the tasty shortcake sold in the cafe just down the street! His eyes have the texture and crunch of strawberries. His blood tastes just like the streusel topping. His scent is intoxicating. It’s reminiscence of the strawberry shortcake toys, but along with a splash of vanilla.

It’s dizzying consuming him like this. He knew that this was just apart of nature, but he wonders why it had to be him. He was a slave, but now he’s realized he is also cake? Every part of the genetic lottery he’s lost. He’s not upset that he’s a sigonian, but people see him as less than because of it. So it’s technically a loss. Then him being a cake is just insult to injury. He had worried for years that he was because of all the people that would smell, lick, and bite at him. But now as he lays in indescribable agony being eaten alive by his (im)perfect lover.

It’s love that allows him to give in to your whims of wanting to taste him. In fact when you mentioned you wanted to taste him he got super excited, but tried to play it cool. Foolish is how he currently felt. He thought this was about to be a rare good sexual encounter. But no he had mistakenly agreed to be someone’s dessert. Even when he realizes this he continues onward. He wouldn’t allow this to go on if you were anyone else, but you’re not. You’re his beautiful lover who just wants to be even closer to him, as close as possible.

You’ve suffered for years not knowing what sweetness tasted of, and Aven’ was glad he would be the one to fulfill your desires. If it wasn’t for how delectable he was this torture would’ve ended long ago. He screams and screams till his vocal cords fry. He feels his skin being torn off like the wrapper in the way of the cake. He can feel your eyes staring down at him as you eye up his beating heart. It beats so hard it worries you if it’ll stop altogether.

For a second there’s a pause, he’s still sobbing in pain from being ripped apart. But this pause gives him hope that it’s over, that you’re finally satisfied. Unfortunately for him there’s a small mumbled “sorry” in his ears, then there’s an extreme increase in pain. His eyes shoot open immediately, locking eyes with your own. But before his vision starts to fade away he’s able to make out the shape of your face biting into something, his heart. His heart stutters and stops beating. And he dies in your arms, content that he was able to satisfy someone he loves.

©2024 fisshbones do not translate, copy, modify, nor repost.

As always likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated <3

[chaosfairy18]

So I was going through WIPs and found that I had written almost 3k for a highschool AU. I'll just share most of this here I suppose because it is so funny and cute ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thinking about his boyfriend, Mush grinned widely into his locker, getting all the books he would need in the day out. Just a few more minutes and he’d get to see him. The last time had been on Friday before Blink got to his orchestra rehearsal and he himself had to get to soccer practise. They hadn’t had time to meet during the weekend with all of their homework and families, but they had been together for long enough that it didn’t matter.

Of course he loved being with Louis, but it wasn’t a need to see him everyday to make sure they still loved each other anymore. He knew that was the case.

Still, Mush hadn’t expected to see Blink grinning like a madman with a red-faced Race trying to get in his way as much as he could, elbowing him, pulling him by the arm, but not accomplishing much to deter him. “Nick, Nicky you won’t believe- Ouch! Why’d you got so sharp elbows, man? Mush, come here, I’ll have to tell you before I get stabbed to death, quick!”

Not one to refuse his sweetheart anything – and also intrigued what could possibly get Race to resort to almost killing Louis – he got closer, Race only doubling his efforts to shut Blink up without much success. “Don’t you dare, Louis Ryan Balletti, I’ll leak those photos of you I swear to god-“

“Do it, I dare you, I don’t care, this is better. Nick, Nick, guess what happened on Friday-“

If this was something from last Friday, it must have happened in their orchestra rehearsals. If Mush wasn’t wrong there was something special happening in these ones, he just didn’t quite remember what. “Racetrack, come on, let my boyfriend live, he’ll tell me sooner or later.”

“Not if he’s dead he won’t.”

“Race. No murder in public places, even your family can’t get you out of that.”

Race rolled his eyes at the implications. Race’s Italian family being part of the mafia had been a running joke for years, since they first found out about his heritage. But at least he stopped, leaving Blink to grasp his shoulders and grin like he’d just won the lottery. “Race, our dear little Tony, has a crush on one of the theatre kids.”

“It’s not a crush-“

“And how it happened is the best thing I’ve ever seen, I swear, Nick-“

“It’s not that important, Blink, you’re makin’ it out to be way bigger than it was.”

While the two kept bickering, Mush remembered what had been so special about Friday’s rehearsals. This year, the theatre club did a musical and instead of using pre-recorded music they wanted to include the school orchestra for the tracks. It was very ambitious, in his opinion, but if someone could do it, it would be Ms. Medda. She was an angel of a woman and responsible for both clubs, even though she shared the orchestra with someone else, who was also the conductor.

“Stop for a sec.”, started Mush, “It was the first meeting with the theatre kids, right? Because of the musical?”

Race, looking resigned, and Blink, looking manic, turned to him again. “Yeah! And for the first fifteen minutes Medda and Hannah were discussing some stuff so we were left alone and could just talk, you know? And apparently one of the Delanceys is in theatre.”

"Anyways, if this is happening, I may as well explain it. So Oscar was being really annoying, arguing with one of our girls, Stray, she’s playing the flute, and I don’t even know if he was trying to flirt or just plain arguing but it was getting loud and she was yelling at him to leave him alone.”

“And then comes Race’s knight in shining armour-“

“Then comes a guy from theatre I don’t know and pulls Oscar away and as he’s not backing down, so he punches him square in the face.”

“Race was practically swooning.”

“No I wasn’t, shut up.”, denied Race, already getting red in the face again.

~~~~~~ I skipped a bit of scene setting from that Friday pov ~~~~~~

With how Race had to look back to talk to Blink he didn’t notice Oscar Delancey, Mr. Wiesel’s nephew, come up to their front row and talk to one of their flute players, Stray. Even if he’d seen it, he probably wouldn’t have thought much of it, he and the rest of their friend group didn’t like the Delanceys much, with Jack fighting them regularly, but he wouldn’t have let that influence his orchestra experience. He’d at most have wondered why Oscar was in the theatre club. If he wanted to talk to someone that wasn’t their business.

Well, just talking wouldn’t have been their business anyhow.

Everything happened pretty fast after that. Race heard it get loud, registered Oscar and Stray arguing about God knows what and he’d had half a mind to get to the front and intercept the argument, as it didn’t have a place in today’s rehearsals, as another theatre kid got up to them, pulling Oscar back and sternly talking to him, much quieter. He had thought that was that and already wanted to turn back to Blink to ask him whatever had just been going on, as the expression on the unknown blond boy turned furious and he punched Oscar square in the face.

Race would later never admit it, not under torture or anything, but the moment he reeled back for his punch, as he was halfway turned in Race’s direction, it almost seemed like time slowed down.

He hadn’t seen much of the blond boy before, but the only thing that came to mind as he fully saw his profile was the word pretty. He had a kind of petite features, making him seem like one of the fairies in stories that would lure you into eternal damnation or something with a wrong word, with bright eyes whose colours Antonio couldn’t quite see from this far away that burned with an anger that made it more seem like he was some spirit of vengeance that had descended on earth for revenge and-

As the punch collected Race slightly shook his head. What had just gotten into him? He already knew he was very much attracted to men but that had never happened before. Even as Oscar tried to hit back, and as Medda got in between the boys, he could only think that whoever that was looked really pretty. And could probably kill him if he ever found out what kind of weird ass thoughts he’d just had about him.

Being absorbed in different renditions of ‘damn, he’s pretty’, Race didn’t notice that Blink had seen each and every reaction his friend had shown upon witnessing the scene and was already planning out his interrogation. For whenever Race returned to the real world.

Mush laughed at the explanation, obviously siding with Blink. The traitor. “Love at first punching a Delancey, that’s a first.”

Absolutely done with the assholes he called friends, Race intended to turn around and sulk or search for any of his other friends who hadn’t been present at Friday, but as he saw something – or someone down the hall he quickly turned around to blend in with the other chattering students in the hall.

Naturally, his asshole friends noticed. “What’d you see? Snyder? Or-“ Race could see the exact moment Blink recognized Race’s predicament as his face split into another gleeful grin. “Oh, who have we here?”

Mush, who hasn’t been subtle a day in his life got onto his tiptoes and leaned on Louis’ shoulder to balance himself while he looked around. “Is it that blond over there? Wait, I know him.”

“You do?”, slipped out of Race before he could stop himself. Goddammit, he was already a pathetic mess, and he didn’t even know anything about the guy.

While Blink’s smile turned into a grin Mush either hid his maliciousness better or wanted to be genuinely helpful. “We played against each other in soccer in Middle School, he played for a Brooklyn school. Everyone called him Spot, I think his last name was Conlon.”

Spot Conlon. That would make it a lot easier to find his accounts on any socials, just to see what he- no, no, don’t be a stalker, you don’t even know him, the crush will pass, don’t be weird.

Naturally, the universe hated him – or loved him, depending on when you ask him about this occurrence– so when Race got lightly tapped on the shoulder he had expected Jack, or Crutchie, or David asking him to compare their physics homework, not the object of his affections who shouldn’t even know he existed.

Standing opposite of Spot-the-blond-theatre-club-member he noticed that he was only minimally shorter than the other, which didn’t happen often, usually he had at least half a head less in height than everyone else, which didn’t help the fluttery feeling in his stomach. Spot’s eyes were also grey or a very light blue, which made it seem like he was unravelling every thought Race had just had about him. It didn’t make him any less pretty.

“Um, hi?”, he stuttered, not quite sure what could have prompted the other to talk to him. What if he’s a psychic and just heard all the things he thought about him-

“Hi, you’re Tony Higgins, right? Play the first trumpet in band?” And Mush must have been right with him being from Brooklyn because you could definitely hear that. Racetrack tried to concentrate fully on not turning red because he was forced to talk to a crush he hadn’t even really processed yet and god he was such a bi disaster, this wasn’t even funny.

“Yeah, that’s me.”, he said lamely. He heard quiet snickers from behind him, undoubtedly from Mush and Blink. He’d kind of forgotten they were still behind him.

“I’m Sean Conlon, I play Dracula in the production, I wanted to ask you somethin’ about a song I’m pretty sure you got a solo in, but,” he looked down at his phone for a second, “It’s gettin’ pretty close to first lesson, you got time after school to meet up?” Whichever higher power was at fault for this happening got both a thank you and a curse, because this wasn’t in his plans, he wants to meet me, shit what do I do?

“Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything going on.” It would mean he wouldn’t be able to drive Blink and Mush home, but he was sure Jack or David had some free seats, this was more important, and they only deserved it for how they laughed about him. Who’s laughing now? Well, not Race, but not them either.

Race wasn’t prepared for the small grin Sean – Spot, whatever – sent his was shortly before turning around. “Cool, see you then.”

Managing for another ten seconds to look like he was totally normal, he promptly fell into himself as he turned back around to Nick and Louis who were cooing in his direction. “What the fuck was that. You saw that too, right? I didn’t just hallucinate talking to him?”

Mush, with a far too sappy expression cooed: “You’ve already fallen so hard, it’s adorable.”

“And yeah, he was here, must be your lucky day, Racey. Should I already plan the wedding?”

Grumbling, he rolled his eyes. “That’d imply he’s interested.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah this is all but I do think it is funny and cute. It was supposed to be fake dating :3

[the-himawari]

A3! Outing Event Translation - You're my first and last love. (4/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Sakuya: And so, gathering together all our ideas from today… A sweets making class, a flyer and costume exhibit, a hands-on makeup experience, and selling merch. We have a lot to work with here!

Azami: Maybe we can pull off somethin’ decent if we combine them with the other teams’ ideas.

Sakyo: Hold it. There’s still one more guy who hasn’t contributed an idea yet. Oi, Usui. Don’t you have anythin’?

Masumi: …

Misumi: Anything’s fine, Masumi~.

Masumi: …What about a letter writing corner?

Sakuya: That sounds great!

Sakyo: Huh? You just wanna write one for Director, don’tcha?

Masumi: So what? What about your idea? You just want to make sweets for Director, don’t you?

Sakyo: Don’t lump us together. It’s not about Director. Sweets are a classic for White Day, aren’t they?

Masumi: In that case, letters are a classic way to express your gratitude.

Sakuya: P-Please calm down, you two!

Misumi: Nooo fighting!

Masumi: We aren’t fighting.

Sakyo: I’m not even touching him.

Hisoka: …They’re like kids.

Azami: For real. By the way, we could’ve just used our troupes for the teams this time. Why’d we go outta our way to choose through a lottery?

Sakyo: This is an event for MANKAI Company’s fans. Seeing as all the members are participatin’, it’s meaningful if we do something that transcends the borders of our troupes. Well, we also thought that stayin' in our troupes could lead to biased opinions. That’s why Director suggested we do a lottery with all of us mixed together this time.

Sakuya: If we all work together, then I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful event!

Azami: I mean, I guess so. But it’s pointless if our efficiency also drops because of that.

Hisoka: Zzz…

Sakyo: —Tch. We’ll disband for today. All of you, give some more thought into what you wanna do, got it?

-pause-

Masumi: … (What I want to do for a White Day event…) (Director is the first person I want to express my gratitude to. That’s why I want to do something that makes her happy.) (But I’m sure Director will like anything I do. She complimented me and gave me the okay for the letter writing idea I came up with earlier.) (But that’s not what I want. I want something that will make her happy from the bottom of her heart—) …The only thing I can think of is a play. *Sigh*…

-pause-

Sakuya: —And so, we’ve come up with even more plans…

Azami: Just like our first meeting, none of ‘em feel quite right.

Hisoka: …Nothing sticks out.

Misumi: Hmm… is the triangle shop no good after all?

Sakyo: We never said it’s no good. But that alone ain’t gonna fill up the whole day.

Masumi: … (Maybe a play is our only option…)

Azami: I’ve been thinkin’. Is doin’ a play like usual off the table? I mean, we’re a theatre troupe ‘n all.

Sakyo: I understand what you mean, but we’ve got 24 members… We were fortunate enough to line up everyone’s schedules. It’ll be hard to prepare the script and costumes for all 24 of us if we start now.

Sakuya: That’s very true. Our invitation to the event also came on such short notice…

Sakyo: Right. And even though it’s called a hall, I don’t think there’s any area that’s like a stage.

Hisoka: Is there not much space?

Sakyo: The layout is kinda complicated. Given the structure of the building, the organizers probably wanna use this event to see how it can be used.

Azami: Once again, I’m amazed at how flippant they are about this…

Sakuya: In any case, I’ll make a note of the play. If there aren’t any more ideas, then let’s close today’s meeting.

Hisoka: …Sure.

Masumi: …

---

previous | next

[withallthingslove]

The Phantom of the Opera Broadway Thoughts/Review - April 4, 2023

The main trio was Jeremy Stolle, Julia Udine, John Riddle and it was my first time seeing all three of them in these roles! Unless I win the lottery tomorrow for the final performance this was my last time seeing Phantom on Broadway before it closes and it proved to be the performance I needed to have closure.

Nehal Joshi continues to add something every performance as Andre. During Hannibal, he linked arms with Piangi during a choreography bit and then he went to stand by the elephant to sing like he was a member of the ensemble. 

Julia really comes alive during Think of Me it’s obvious that her Christine loves performing once she gets over her initial nervousness.

As the candles rose during the title song, Jeremy was feeling himself and he spun the boat pole in a circle like it was a lightsaber before starting to row again and it was ~ hot ~

When Julia got out of the boat, he grabbed her hips and kind of spun her to look at him and it was also hot. His cape twirl and the way he throws it down onto the bed boat while not breaking eye contact with Christine is also hot. His phantom definitely has some Leo somewhere in his chart he is a slutty showman

I had seen some reviews on here saying that in recent months Jeremy’s voice has sounded strained while playing the Phantom. Vocally he struggled with the “I have brought you” part of MOTN, the end of AIAOY reprise, and “deep as hell” in Down Once More but those were the only parts he had to adjust the notes.

The Phantom and Christine almost kissed while leaning up against the portcullis. Which made the phantom chasing her to that corner of the lair in STYDI feel like a cruel parallel

During I Remember... Julia starts singing while lying down which seemed more realistic.

John’s Raoul is so so so earnest. That’s the best word to describe him. Right before Primadonna when the managers said Christine would play the page boy his head jerked up like “say what?”

When they are scrambling to read the Phantoms note from Madame Giry Firmin dropped the note to the ground

Jeremy’s Phantom really shines while messing with Carlotta he soaks up taunting her and is having a ball stealing the attention away (again there is Leo somewhere in his chart)

During the ballet scene, all of the ballerinas were adding little extra things in their performance while the shadows and murder are happening like adding lines saying “Did you see that?” and playing up the humor and fear. 

John’s love language as Raoul is definitely physical touch but before kissing Christine for the first time he seemed so hesitant and nervous even though it was so apparent he wanted to.

During Wishing, it comes across like Julia’s Christine has been compartmentalizing or was in denial about her dad’s death. And her “her father promised her” is very pointed like she’s angry at her dad for dying

In Wandering Child, Jeremy isn’t really paternal he’s more of a patronizing “I know you have daddy issues” and he caressed his face during “far from my fathering gaze.” Julia was actively trying to resist it like physically trying to fight against the trance which I appreciated

John was ready to FIGHT in Wandering Child he charged up to the grave and it seemed like if Julia didn’t stop him he would have climbed up the wall to the Phantom. 

An overall note about John… he seems to really pay attention to what the Phantom does. He keeps glancing at the chandelier during Il Muto and he notices the Phantom almost as early as Christine does in Masquerade. And while he’s protective of Christine he seems to be analyzing the Phantom, possibly sizing him up or trying to figure out what he’s going to do next. And I think this works really well in the last half of act II where Raoul is leading the charge because of course he is. He’s like “I’ve been studying this guy I have an idea” which also plays into the earnestness of John’s portrayal.

Jeremy’s vocals I think were strongest during PONR and his character really leans into the horniness of the song. Once Julia realizes it’s him she performed the most over-the-top sexy I’ve seen Christine do but it seemed to be to taunt the phantom. Like fully flashed her entire leg when she put her foot up on the bench.

When the Phantom proposes, Julia gently shook her head with her eyes pleading “please don’t ask that of me” and god it was such a subtle acting moment but it stood out to me so much. And then she ripped off his mask to get him to stfu

Jeremy’s Phantom has a strong attachment to his mask. As soon as he gets it back in STYDI, you can see his whole demeanor change. In the Final Lair, when he sang “A mask my first unfeeling scrape of clothing” he started to cry as if he was truly remembering his first mask. And then he realizes he’s being vulnerable in front of Christine and he gets mad at her pitying him 

John is the only Raoul I’ve seen act like he’s being strangled the whole time during the final lair. Some eventually stop struggling but he kept it up the whole time. His energy was just really refreshing.

At one point Julia tried to put her arms around the Phantom’s shoulders to plead with him, and Jeremy ducked out from her (I don’t know how since he’s so much taller) 

Jeremy was scaryyyyyy when he leaned over Christine before “you try my patience” and even after he turned around Julia was still frozen terrified. I think that was the first time I’ve ever watched it live and actually felt really really scared for Christine. Her fear was just so palpable.

After the kiss, when the Phantom walks up to Raoul, John started breathing really hard like he thought the Phantom was going to kill him and Julia’s desperate “No!” showed that she thought the same.

Because of how much Julia’s Christine wanted to be free of the Phantom it surprised my how sad her Christine seemed during the ring return. It did seem to be the mostly out of pity though. 

There was no second “I love you.” When Jeremy was standing watching Christine and Raoul ride off on the boat together, something about his body language really captured the finality of his loneliness in that moment.

When I saw Phantom in December after so many years away all it did was reawaken my love of the show, and when I saw it in March the performance was so chaotic I was distraught (an understatement) when it ended because I knew I needed to go again. Something about this performance brought a lot of closure and as soon as it ended, I didn’t cry like I did in March. I just felt content. 

I think that’s partially because every cast member is just doing the most so there were so many small moments to savor, but I also think it’s because I got to see Jeremy’s Phantom. I met him twice back in 2013/2014 when I was deep in the Phandom and him being so involved with fans was a huge part of my formative love of Phantom in high school. And when I wasn’t following the show as much I still kept up with a lot of backstage stuff through his Instagram. So it felt very full circle to finally catch him as the Phantom.

[jimblejamblewritings]

luck be a (leading) lady | part 13.

[Posted 2022.10.29]

Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?

Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff

Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

You turned around on the porch to see Ricky. He noticed you were still in pajamas despite the pointe shoes. You ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck. A smile appeared on Ricky’s face as you pecked his cheek. 

“Happy Birthday! I’m sorry I was supposed to surprise you with everyone else but then Dewey let me check my phone because of auditions and I j—”

“What part did you get?” 

You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter right now, it’s your birthday.” 

Ricky squeezed your waist a little. “It matters to me.” 

“Lucy.” 

“Seriously? That’s amazing! Were you just running her part?” 

You nodded before resting your head against his chest. “I think I just got nervous. I’ve never played principal two shows in a row. What if mess up and they n—”

Ricky grabbed your face. He squished your cheeks together. “You will be amazing and I will be right there to support you. You get nervous just look at me. Okay?” 

He laughed when you nodded your head. Ricky slung an arm around your shoulder as he told you about Big Red showing up and his 18th birthday bucket list being almost complete. He just needed a lottery ticket which you both thought Big Red would bring… he didn’t bring it. You both caught up with Gina who was introducing young Emmy to Ms. Jenn. Your drama teacher surprised you by actually knowing your name and giving you a hug. 

“I’m so excited for tonight. We need to talk more when you kids get back. I have a lot to say to Y/N but for now, congratulations on Narnia. I’m so proud of all my babies.” 

Gina and Ricky gave you side hugs while your eyes just widened. Ms. Jenn tilted her head. She was a bit confused by your seemingly lack of enthusiasm. 

“How do you know? They don’t announce cast until closer to the show.” 

“Honey, it’s all over TikTok and every casting director I follow on Instagram. They’ve already announced a New York City showing. No one knows if they’ll be recasting or not but it’s a big deal. Disney Plus! You’ll be next to Hamilton on the homepage!” 

Your nostrils flared. “What?” 

Ricky grabbed your shoulders and moved you away from Ms. Jenn, saying you all would see her when the show started. He talked your ear off until you both made it back to his cabin. You sat on Ricky’s top bunk. He put a hand on your knee, keeping it there while he looked for something. He held up his makeup bag. 

“I finally learned how to do eyeliner.” Ricky smiled when you visibly relaxed after laughing. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“I have!”

“Richard, I’ll be doing your makeup until the end of time.” 

He interlaced his fingers with yours. “So you’re saying we’ll be together for a long time.” 

“I don’t plan on breaking up with you.” 

“We’re in this together… Okay, down, we’ve got a show to hold.” 

You guys stopped at your cabin to get your stuff before making your way backstage. You tried to ignore Channing as best as possible. That man bothered you to your core. Even if he was technically responsible for you and Ricky getting together, you would never like him. Not even a little bit. The only good news was that he was filming the show and you guys doing your hair and makeup. It was impossible to cause drama from doing hair and makeup. 

You weren’t even bothered by his announcement of the live-stream. Live-stream was basically the same as live performance— one extra camera didn’t take away from your nerves or add to your nerves. What did make you— and the rest of the cast— nervous was the fact that Channing was going to be throwing random things to shake it up. Why did he feel the need to be insufferable? The show would be fine and the documentary would be great if he just let you guys be. 

EJ finally put his foot down and insisted that you guys do the show your way. That’s exactly what you all did. You ran off stage after ‘Do You Want to Build a Snowman?’ to change from regular ballet shoes to pointe shoes. Ricky, who wasn’t on stage for a solid fifteen more minutes, sat in your makeup chair while you were banging your shoes on the floor. He organized your makeup bag. 

“Do you think it’s weird we’re gonna be famous?” 

“Famous seems like a stretch.” 

“Think about it. The actual musical, the documentary. Everyone has Disney Plus and you have Narnia after. Do you think it’ll feel weird to be famous and still just in high school?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t think much will change… aside from money.” 

Ricky laughed and pulled you to your feet. You thought he wanted to practice the dance but he just wanted a kiss. It was just a peck, both of you careful not to smudge any makeup. You rested your hands on his chest. Ricky gave you a smile. 

“I can afford an opening night present for your ballet.” 

You shook your head. “Ricky you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Not just because of the stuff you and Gina got me. I like giving things to people when I can. I’d love nothing more than to give my girlfriend things… I love saying that. My girlfriend.” 

You patted his chest. “Well, boyfriend. You have minutes until you’re on. I’ll meet you on stage in a minute.” 

Ricky pecked your lips. “Thank you, five… Dude!” 

He left your hold to approach Channing who had been filming for who knows how long. Ricky took the camera and turned it off before shoving it back into Channing’s chest. Knowing he wasn’t wanted, Channing went back outside to find other ways to ruin the show. You still had some time before joining Ricky on stage as a pretty snowflake. A feminine voice called your name as you sat down to reapply your blush. You turned to see Nini. She gave you a wave before just going in for a hug. 

“Hi… Oh my God, you saw the trailer. I—”

“Oh no. Me and Ricky are totally done. I’m happy for you both, I think. Are you guys together?” 

You nodded and she smiled. 

“Then I am happy for you… I actually came to ask for advice. I already talked to Ms. Jenn but I’m still not sure.” 

You listened intently as she explained everything about her summer in LA. Nini just looked at you. She wanted to hear from someone who was professional— as professional as you could get in high school. You went to grab both of her hands. 

“If it’s for you, it’s for you. East High isn’t forever. Sometimes, we outgrow a place before we’re ready. I think you’ve outgrown Salt Lake… And, frankly, I think that’s a damn good thing.” 

Nini gave you a hug, satisfied in her decision. She handed you two envelopes before standing up to leave— she was going to go back and watch the show before darting out. Nini stopped at the door. 

“Make sure Ricky gets that. It’s a lottery ticket.” 

~~

You high-fived Ricky as he came off the half-pipe. Like promised, you were at one of his skating competitions. Life was definitely different since the musical. But you weren’t sure how different. You wouldn’t know until school started on Monday. You did notice the increase in auditions. An agent was practically thrusted onto you and it was basically decided that after Berklee, you were going to New York or Hollywood. Carlos was the most excited. He was the only one living the celebrity life to the fullest. 

“Is it just you and me?” Ricky asked as he got off the podium, large silver medal against his chest. 

You grabbed the skateboard from him. “Yep, Big Red and Ash are stuck at the lake. Gina’s still meeting with the Rockettes. Can you believe that? She’s going to be so big.”

“You think she’ll get us front row seats?” Ricky joked as he threw his arm over your shoulder and started walking with you. 

You guys were in New York on a friends trip and for his skate competition… And the documentary premiere was yesterday. It was the first time you guys had flown first-class and it was epic. Instead of going to your sister’s restaurant, the two of you got food from a bodega and decided to picnic in Central Park. You rested your head in Ricky’s lap. 

“Did you get a callback?” 

He shook his head. “I got one but bombed the other. You?”

“Same. Well, I bombed three more and haven’t heard back from two others. Big time casting directors are kind of scary.” 

Ricky laughed in agreement. “Which callback did you get?” 

“The one for the new princess movie. Chemistry read on Saturday at two… What?”

“That’s the callback I made.” He leaned over until he was centimeters from your face. “Are we going to have a showmance?”

You rolled your eyes. “We have to get the parts first, Ricky.” 

He smiled before pecking your lips. “But if we did. Showmance is kinda hot.” 

“Richard.”

“Yes?”

“Just kiss me.” 

“Gladly.”

(part 14)

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[smolzaddy]

My brother took his life on the 7th of January. I feel like my world has been crumbling around me since. It’s been incredibly hard to talk about, talking about Kyle in past tense is not something I ever fathomed and it makes my heartache. Every interaction with anyone but my family feels pointless or full of pity.

I miss him so much.

When my mom’s long term boyfriend Zach passed away unexpectedly in 2016 it was so fucking hard for me; I thought I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose anyone else. Zach felt like the closest thing I’d ever get to a father figure, the only man to date my mother and make me feel like a daughter and not just an obstacle to secure my mom’s affection. Everytime I drink a yuengling beer (Zach’s favorite) I think about how he passed before I could legally drink one with him.

I was at an all time mental low before Zach had passed. I wished for death like people wish for winning lottery tickets. I, in a way felt responsible for his death. I felt like the death I wished for had missed its mark and took him instead. My mental health worsened. But I saw how the grief affected my mother and decided I never wanted to make a decision that would put her through that kind of grief again.

But it didn’t make the sadness and sense of loss go away. It just made me try to find a purpose to focus on. I decided that purpose would be my family and their happiness. Cause if I could find my own happiness, I’d love to aid there’s. I thought, 2024 is the year I focus on my family. Get us a spacious house we can all feel safe in. Make enough money that my mom never has to worry about rent, enough that Kyle and Kania would never have to work unless they wanted to.

But now with Kyle gone, I’ve lost a huge sense of my purpose in a way. Now that he’s gone, it’s harder to use my family’s happiness as motivation to not give up. Are they even actually happy? Are we all just suffering silently, with a few laughs here and there? Everytime I had a shitty shift and wanted to quit my job I’d think, you gotta keep at it to keep the family safe. To keep them sheltered and worry free. Everything I do now feels pointless. It won’t bring Kyle back, it won’t bring Zach back. I feel like since Zach passed, I was always trying to prepare myself for one of my grandparents to pass not my little brother. He was just 22, he was still just a kid to me.

Kyle always moved so fearlessly and recklessly, even if he was good at talking himself outta trouble. I always worried that he’d encounter the wrong cop or substance. I was so relieved when we moved from Richmond because I thought, no more cops that recognize his car and he won’t be anywhere near that guy who purposefully got him hooked on drugs. Prayed he’d never overdose again.

And yeah, there was still some rough days since we’d left Richmond 2 years ago. But the past year -the past 6 months especially had been so progressive I just feel like I’ve been blindsided.

Kyle used to be so private. But lately he was leaving his bedroom door open so he could talk/interact with us more. He’d leave the house and hang out with me without me having to persuade him. I was trying to build a home gym for us since he didn’t like going to the public gym and he was excited about the new weights. He was helping me get into weight lifting. We were playing video games together like every other night. We talked about the future and traveling more than ever. I told him I’d get the stuff to start up his GameCube and challenged him to seeing who could raise the strongest Chao on Sonic A2B. He agreed as long as he got to raise his Chao “dark” using Shadow. Feels like we just walked around the mall for hours so he could find our youngest sibling a good Christmas gift. Yes, Kyle was depressed, about not having a job (among other things) but he seemed like he was making his way in a brighter direction. He’d just applied for a grant to take welding classes.

Was it all just the quiet before the storm?

The night before, I had just put him on my phone bill because he had these meetings he was doing for a sales job his “friend” was trying to help him get. He met me at my job and it was raining, he hopped out my mom’s truck to put an umbrella over me cause I just pressed my hair. He told my mom my that he wasn’t sure what I did but that my hair looked really pretty and he had to protect it. We teased him and told him he looked like turnip head from Howls Moving Castle when he shielded Sophie from the rain. We set his phone up, then when we got home he was trying to help my fiancé set up their PlayStation. They talked about the games they should get and what they were excited to play together.

I just don’t know.

Later that night after we all fell asleep my mom says she vaguely heard him arguing with someone and assumed he was playing video games online with someone. He came to her room really upset and said that “friend” that was helping him with a job was a bitch. My mom woke up enough to ask him what was going on but he didn’t answer and left and she fell back asleep. We found him the next afternoon. My mom realized she hadn’t seen him all day and went to check on him and found him. I’ll never forget the cry she let out.

I feel like that “friend” said something that tiggered Kyle and it just happened that we were asleep and not there to talk him down. Kyle’s had episodes before but we’d talk it out, go for a drive, whatever and he’d calm down overtime. Kyle was impulsive though, I wonder how much that played into this.

Kyle and I used to bicker a lot, it took me growing up and learning the signs/behaviors to realize we were just siblings on the spectrum that had/needed different types of communication/care. But we meshed more than ever recently. But even when we didn’t mesh I never wanted this.

I love you, Kyle.

[the25thviolence]

Its 5pm (Year in Review etc)

I’m tired from the pizza I ate.  I just enjoyed watch my brother’s favorite football team win with him (they never win).   And I’m double listening to a playlist I made to fight god with.  

Now is the time I’ve decided to write my end of the year write up.  This moment.  Right now.  I am about to start writing it. 

Any.

Moment.

It’s.

About.

To.

Start.

One.

Second.

I.

Right.

Now.

I’ll.

Start.

Writing.

I switched jobs 3 times.  From retail (which I said I would never go back to after the retail job before that).  A Plastics factory job thing . And now I cut giant sheets of metal with a laser (not as cool as it sounds, as heavy as it sounds though).  

We’ve moved past the “mom has cancer” part of the storyline and now she’s just kind of hanging out.  Past the delusions of failure and depression.  We have moved onto the “I will grab life by its weak skinny neck and snap it in half if it dares to make the people I care about sad.” arc of the storyline.  

I stopped pining away at night for someone to care about me and now do not care because I’m strong enough to care about myself and everyone else around me.  If the world were to shatter I would simply wrap my hands around it and hold it in place.  If the sun were to fall out of the sky I would simply catch and toss it back where it belongs.  And if it all becomes too heavy for you I would simply pick up what you can’t carry and throw it on my back.  You are worth loving because I love you.  Is that not enough of a reason? 

I thought this writing writeup thing of words etc was going to be a lot longer but this playlist is really solidifying my emotions and shaping them into raw muscles that can lift heavy rocks. 

I made a long late night rant (ok I’ve made 100s of those but I mean the most recent one).  It was about understanding the needs of other thru there own pov instead of your own  It was very long and deep but I only wrote it because I thought my friends wanted me to stop playing overwatch and not that THEY wanted to stop playing overwatch.  Because every time they brought up it I heard it thru a lens of me.  I think people really thought it was something deep but it was just that my friends were super tilted and wanted to play minecraft instead of overwastch and I didn’t understand that because I was fine playing overwatch. 

I guess like this is important or like life affirming.  I finally got with a dentist to fix my team.  99% of my mouth is in ruin from the years, decades, of depression.  like 22 fillings, 2 root canals, a cap, and a completely dead tooth or two.  My advice is see a therapist before its too late and all the emotional pain you have physically ruins your body. 

I stopped writing stories, poems, words in general because I started feeling better.  I’ve always had this desperate need to escape myself when in deep painstaking trauma.  Coping or therapeutic either way it helps me feel better.  And for awhile now I haven’t felt the need to feel better.  I still fall into a fit of depression every other weekend.  But I’m doing the best I’ve been doing in over a year now.  

The past is gone.  The hill has been climbed.  I’m standing on the top of it all now.  Even still.  Even after all this pain.  I still grin while lifting my arms up.  Daring the world to stop me from leaping off.  Daring it to stop me from finding out if I can fly or not.  One more time.  One more try.  The last hundred didn’t kill me.  What’s one more fall from the mountain top to the ground below.  

My current worries are christmas.  I gotta spend at least $100 on friends.  Probably around $75 for my brother and his 4 children that I live with.   Than another $40 for my mom and brother.  And who knows how much on my team nephews.  Maybe $20 or $25 each.  I just gotta find a way and do the math.  

To the wind swept roads of tomorrow.  The sad winner of the Justin lottery.  Probably been waiting a few decades for this lost soul mate to appear.  I’m sorry but I mite never show up.  The world has had a firm grasp on my existence since I was a child.  If you somehow find me in the deep overgrown underground that is my permanent living hell.  I’ll be ripped and cut from the motion of it all.  The great spinning and falling of this life.  A torn tragedy.  I’ll hate you with every breath I take.  I’ll ignore you before I even begin to deny you.  Its not a hill.  Its not a mountain.  Its a flat cliff face.  You mite notice a shortcut permanently covered in fresh winter snow but I advise you ignore that.  Making me care about you is a quick way to get me into your heart.  But it does nothing for the locked gate on my heart.  Frigid like concrete.  Sadly not dramatic like a block of ice.  I cannot be melted.  Only warmed under the hot beating heart of the warm summer sun.  And as soon as you leave, even if only a moment, the coldness will seep into my body freezing it again.  I may be talking to a ghost but I would love a tree if it desired me so.  If a tree loving me made its life happier than I would love a tree.  Splinters and all.  

Well this was far shorter than I expected.  I know I have zero readers and mostly write for myself.  Even if I’m the writer I can also be the reader and I am very grateful to have myself in my own life.  Being alive is so fucking hard.  And dying seems like a fairytale.  But no one ever killed god and permanently smashed opened the waters of grace without first defeating life in a 1v1. 

[sukirichi]

request: megumi and yuuji with a really touchy touchy affectionate s/o but gets easily flustered if you reciprocate their actions please 🥺 — megumi ver!

pairings: fushiguro megumi x touchy! reader

notes: just pure fluff~ i really loved this concept, thank you for the request!

masterlist ! requests are open

[3:10 PM] you hate movie nights with megumi.

why, you may ask? it’s because megumi’s couch is too spacious for the both of you, and your boyfriend is so dense that he doesn’t interpret your frown when he gives you separate blankets. you even have your own bowls of popcorn, all because megumi has had enough of you eating his precious popcorn before the movie even begins.

he acts like he’s annoyed, but the fact that your bowl is bigger than his says otherwise.

nevertheless, you’re annoyed. megumi sits an arm’s length away from you, happily cuddled to the pillows on his side with his toes almost jabbing your side. he’s so invested to the movie – one that you chose but can’t be bothered to watch now – that he doesn’t notice how you endlessly huff with your arms crossed on your chest.

“stupid gumi,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his legs harshly off the couch with a glare. “you enjoying the movie?”

he doesn’t pick up on the sarcastic remark, only nodding while pressing his legs on his chest. “yeah, it’s a good one. you’ve got good taste in films. i don’t think i’ve seen this before.”

yeah, you haven’t seen my fist either, you want to tell him, but then you sink back into your seat, the frown so deep on your face it might as well be permanent. fifteen minutes later, you’ve had enough that he still remains so unaware that you just want nothing but to cuddle with your precious boyfriend. why does he like the movie more than you? it doesn’t make sense, and your body grows warmer and warmer with irritation.

unable to help it, you slam the bowl down on the coffee table and kick off your blanket, turning to megumi with moist eyes. megumi immediately pauses the movie when he sees a stray year run down your cheek, but he makes no movement to wipe it away.

he stays frozen on his spot, lips slightly open in shock. “what’s wrong? did something happen?”

“you’re stupid,” you glare at him. megumi opens his mouth to ask just what the hell is going on since you’re not making sense, and you know this; you know you’re being childish and immature yet you can’t help it. not even giving him a chance to speak, you plant yourself in his lap, your arms burying in his hoodie before you hide your face in the hood, refusing to let him see your face.

megumi is already aware you’re very touchy, but that multiplies tenfold when you’re needy. it’s not even that you have sexual thoughts about him; you just want to be as close to him as because it’s the best place in the world.

he’s so warm and soft, especially when he relaxes in your hold, awkwardly tapping you on the back as a silent response. he immediately understands; he always does, though you still can’t shake off the feeling of embarrassment. you’ve always been a touchy-feely person; it’s your love language, and even though he never voiced it out, it’s been difficult for megumi.

he likes his space and to not have his personal bubble invaded. it’s practically torture when you first started dating. it took him two months before he allowed you to hold his hand, and even then, his palms grew so clammy and shaky you just retracted it.

megumi is beginning to get more and more used to your habits by now, but that gnawing feeling of regret still brews in your groin. “i’m sorry,” you slowly loosen your hold on him once you’ve calmed down enough at his scent. no longer wanting to make megumi uncomfortable, you’re about to go back to your spot, hands suddenly turning sweaty. you’re too scared to face him, to see that he’s probably really annoyed by how you’re always like this; always wanting to be near him and touching him. perhaps you’ve crossed the line and –

his hand tugs your wrist, and you let out a small squeak when you feel something warm and soft on your forehead. you stay there shell shocked, staring at the knotted strings of his hoodie before you gain the courage to look him in the eye. did he just...?

“did you just kiss me?” you slap a palm over your forehead, feeling your body heat spike at the way megumi nonchalantly hums while he gently rubs a thumb at your neck. “i thought you didn’t—”

megumi sighs, and your boyfriend takes you by surprise for the hundredth time that night when he drags you closer to him. it elicits a soft whine from you when your bare legs run over his thigh, your hands reflexively reaching out to steady yourself on his shoulders. megumi seems to be equally flustered as you are because he rests his cheek on your shoulder, making sure his face is turned away so you don’t see him.

“i didn’t mean it that way,” he begins, too lost in his own thoughts to realize that your breath began to hitch as he caresses your thigh. “i’m not good with words or actions and i know i’m not the most expressive. i’ve always...” megumi shifts closer to you, close enough that you can smell his mint shampoo and be intoxicated by it. “i’ve always wanted to be close to you too. i’m just not as confident as you are when it comes to that because i’m afraid i’ll do something wrong.”

“megumi—”

“keep doing that,” you feel him smile through your shoulder, and only now have you realized you’ve started playing with his hair, softly tugging at it before massaging his scalp. “keep holding me. keep being close to me like this – i’m now surrending to the insanity of what i feel for you.”

tears begin to cloud your vision at his words. this whole time, you’ve been so worried you’re making megumi uncomfortable, totally unaware that he’s unable to resist at how special it makes him feel when you’re so open about wanting him and liking him. it makes him feel like he’s won the lottery because of how romantic and precious you are – but this time around, he’s the one making you feel that way, and similar to what him, you’ve also completely surrendered to the unexplainable insanity that is love.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hades

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades

Lucifer

Well… this is awkward…

He’s actually met Hades multiple times for business reasons (Underworld-Devildom relations are amiable if not a little odd. Hades was something of an uncle figure to Diavolo as a wee demon lad, which should speak for itself really). He’s a gloomy fellow and not much for chit-chat, but he never thought they’d end up taking one of his kids by accident…

He had to send a formal apology letter to the Lord of the Underworld immediately, but thankfully he didn’t seem very concerned for his offspring - if anything he appeared to think the Devildom would suit them nicely which was… concerning.

And he was not wrong. The darkness, demons, ghouls, and frights of the Devildom hardly seemed to faze the MC, if anything they fit right in. He’d dare say they were thriving if not for one thing…

They were So. Damn. Bleak.

Getting a smile out of this one AT ALL was rare. For once he felt the need to check up on someone constantly just to be sure they were alright... They’d keep assuring the House that they’re not actually as sad as they look but it’s hard not to assume…

He was a little mortified at first when they first met Cerberus cause… well they called him “Cerbi” and the massive demonic guard dog rolled over for them like a Golden Retriever! 

Apparently he and the Cerberus that they knew are from the same litter and they must have smelt familiar... He would have probably limited their interactions just to keep his dog on his side but after seeing the MC smile for once while they played with the big oaf well…

Cerberus got a new playmate and the MC got a massive, three-headed therapy animal. Win-win. 😌

Mammon

Do ya really gotta be such a downer all the time, MC…? 😔

He thinks they’re nice, like really nice. They’re always super concerned when his brothers attack him or when he gets injured, but he’s pretty sure it’s because they’ve seen people die before so…

At first, he had no idea why he had to be saddled with this depressing wisp of mortal but over time he started to understand that they weren’t all that sad. They had… Resting Gloom Face? Is that a thing? 

They also had a different way of seeing things. He could win the lottery and they’d tell him to stay inside so he wouldn’t get hit by lightning or if he pissed off the wrong people, they’d joke about him keeping his fingers and toes. Dark stuff, but not intended to be so… well morbid.

However, what he eventually found out that the REAL advantage to having a Hades kid in the Devildom was that nothing scared them. Literally nothing. Not even the ghosts - which to reiterate, are terrifying!

Cue Mammon getting dragged to horror movies nights with his brothers and pulling the MC along to be his personal security blanket. He’ll hold onto them for dear life as they just pat his head or something, watching and not even flinching at the jumpscares.

The first time the House had an unexpected power outage he clung onto the back of their shirt like a lost child while they calmly looked for the circuit-breaker...

If he could jump into their arms every time something scary happened like Scooby-Doo, he absolutely would. His brothers make fun of him, but after seeing the MC handle Cerberus like a puppy any time something frightens them they hide behind the mortal as well…

Leviathan

In some ways, he totally relates to their moodiness but come on! Who can still look so sad when watching The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl?? Ruri-chan can make anyone smile! 😠

When he first met the MC, he was a little confused about why they didn't find him intimidating at all. He even reverted to his demon form and showed his fangs but no dice! All they said was, "I've walked along the edge of Tartarus. You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that, buddy…" 

That was probably his first sign that the "human" wasn't normal…

After Mammon told him who their Dad was, things made a lot more sense. A child of Hades in the Devildom? That's ironic enough to be its own anime plot!! They certainly felt like an angsty protagonist at times. 🤷‍♀️

Truth be told, they could relate to each other in a lot of ways. You wouldn't think that an offspring of the Underworld and a demonic shut-in would have much in common but the one thing they share between them is that sense of never really fitting in.

Turns out that Hades kids are black sheep, even among other demigods, and Levi? Well, he's had trouble relating to others since his angel days. He and the mortal were like off-beat kindred spirits!

Which, I mean, you wouldn't get just by looking at them together. Levi being the impassioned super-otaku rambling their ear off while his somber companion would just go along with him quietly, but hey, there's more beneath the surface. Probably. 

Now if he could just get them to cosplay as the Lord of Emptiness with him… They'd be perfect! Perfect he says!!

Satan

Highly considered drugging their food with antidepressants for a while… 

This was before getting to know them better, of course, but for the first couple months he honestly couldn't shake the feeling that the mortal looked miserable! 

Now, he's one to particularly care for the comfort of strangers, but just looking at them like that every day would sour his own mood quite considerably. It was very irritating...

It was only on closer inspection that he realized there was something else at play, though.

The mortal was different - even for a demigod he imagined. They took to the Devildom easily and the realm almost accepted them right back!

The flora looked better in their presence, the hellish beasts that roamed the wilds would roll over for them, and they even seemed to be welcomed in by the never-ending shadows… 

It was fascinating. Like the effects of the Underworld were baked into their DNA and mingled with the environment around them… Two layers of darkness coexisting within one person.

I mean, what other creature - other than Lucifer - could ride Cerberus around like a pony??

Had they not been so kind, they'd probably scare him shit-less... Their potential power was too great to ignore. But after getting used to their gloom, at least they made for pleasant company. 🤷‍♀️

Satan likes them well enough, but even still he has to wonder just what they were capable of… you know?

Asmodeus

Oh. My. WORD. What a buzzkill!!!

Really, the new mortal was no good at parties or pictures for that matter!

Not because they looked bad, or even because he couldn't get them to smile, but because GHOSTS would always photobomb any pictures they were in!! 😫

One time he got a selfie with them on the couch and a creepy ghost child could be seen hiding behind the cushions so NOPE. No more photos with the mortal around!!

Aside from that, he couldn't say the mortal was all bad or anything…They were pretty friendly, despite their general look and feel. 

Though, personally, he thought they wore far too much black... Even in the Devildom, there's normally a pop of color, you know? Was that just the Hades dress code?

And you want to know the weirdest thing? Despite everything about them screaming "Doom and Gloom," they're straaaangely popular among the RAD dating scene…

Like. Not as some heartthrob, "Love'em and Leave'em"-type, but he's found that there's a LOT of his demonic classmates who think they're cute or have a crush on them in some way…

Naturally, he can see the appeal of the mysterious, moody demigod with a dark, troubled past. It's just the demigod in question is completely oblivious to it! 🤷‍♀️

He tried to give them dating tips or play matchmaker from time to time but eventually gave up when it was clear they weren't interested. Alas, students of RAD, this is one forbidden fruit that refuses to be shared…! Such a tragedy… 😔

Beelzebub

They remind him of Belphie… like. A lot.

The similarities were obvious. They had a similar feel, made similar jokes, and even the same somewhat dreary attitude about them...

If he were being honest, at the beginning there were times when he'd open up to them a lot more than he intended because he'd forget that he wasn't actually talking to Belphie…

Thankfully, he knew better than to try and treat them like his replacement or anything. They were two different people after all. But it didn't stop him from feeling extra protective around them for a while.

Besides, there was ONE thing that set them leagues apart from Belphie and that was the fact they were a shit cook. Not quite as bad as Solomon but uh… Actually no, that's a closer call than it has any right to be...

Apparently, Hades kids don't need to eat as much and when you hang out with shades and skeletons for most of your life, you don’t really worry about making food that's any better than… "Well, technically it's edible." 🤷‍♀️

Their food won't kill a person like Solomon's, but you WILL start seeing stuff you probably shouldn't. He tried their "soup" once and swore he saw the ghost of his mother… and he doesn't even have a mother!!!

He swears that if he ever sees the MC and Solomon working together in the same kitchen he's skipping town… Whatever culinary abomination the two of them could create would probably gain sentience and eat HIM instead. He's always figured he'd go out with Death by Food, but not like that!! 😫

Belphegor

Ever meet someone who’s like looking in a mirror? Yeah, he’s getting those vibes…

He never expected the "human" to be so similar to him, it was kind of uncanny.

Upon first laying eyes on each other there was a pause… then a squint… and then… a nod.

Honestly, their combined dry wit, dark humor, and pessimistic outlook played off of each other surprisingly well. Too well for him to hate, really.

Not that it mattered because they didn’t believe him for a second when he tried to trick them (they had dealt with loads of lying monsters before). He hated to admit it, but they had a good head on their shoulders and knew better than to trust a locked up demon…

And yet, they seemed to stick around with him anyway. Because of the good conversation or just empathizing with his loneliness was anyone's guess. 🤷‍♀️

Sometimes they'd come up and sit outside the door in comfortable silence… Or they'd talk about whatever:

MC: *sitting out by the attic with their back against the door* So what happens to demons when they die…?

Belphie: *laying on the floor on the other side, staring at the ceiling* Depends on the kind. If I die, I'll just reform later.

MC: Like a reincarnation?

Belphie: Eh. *shrugs* Maybe. Haven't died yet.

MC: You could die in there, you know.

Belphie: *throws a side glare* Well thanks for bringing that up…

MC: *shrugs* What? It's true. But don't worry, I won't let you. *small-ish smile*

Belphie: *stares at them wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before turning on his side quickly* Ugh… whatever…

They did their word, somehow. They eventually got the door open and let him out, but by that time the anger was gone and he was just happy to finally talk to them face-to-face...

And good thing too, because apparently it's not smart to fight a death-child in what is essentially their element - as he saw when they summoned an army of skeletons to kick Levi's ass when he cheated them in Devil Cart...

He would not have lasted in that fight... Dodged a bullet there. 

[alchemisoul]

I am a pure comedian.

I think I’m one of the best comedians of all time. But here’s the thing. It doesn’t matter if you believe me. It really doesn’t matter.

The important thing is that I would pass a lie detector test.

I like to test myself by joking about horrible things and nothing but. One of my favorite ways to test myself, I like to joke about tragedies the day that they happen.

The day they happen.

I don’t believe in too soon. I’m on a tight schedule. And I’m good at it. I’m good at it. Like, the day of…the day of the Aurora, Colorado Batman movie theater shooting. The day it happened, I went online, I went on Twitter, and I tweeted

“Other than that, how was the movie?”

(Laughter)

Right? Right?

Nailed it.

Nailed it.

And the reason I get away with stuff like that is I’m just the guy who does it. People are used to it from me. It would be weird if I didn’t make a joke the day of a tragedy. Which is why I was very surprised when I got in a lot of trouble the day of the Boston Marathon.

Now, I don’t follow the news regularly. But I know the second a tragedy happens because I get 25 text messages saying, “Don’t do it.” And whenever I see that…

...Whenever I see that, it makes me sad. It makes me sad ’cause I know something horrible has happened. People will say, “Anthony, what’s funny about Aurora? What’s funny about the Boston Marathon? What’s funny about your grandmother’s funeral?”

Nothing!

Nothing is funny about those things.

That’s where I come in.

So I see these texts and I’m like, “Oh, no, what happened?” But I also think, “I’ve got a job to do.” So I go online, I start reading about it. I don’t want to watch the footage. But I’ll read about what happened. And I think, “How can I make someone laugh today?”

And then I think, “I got it.” I go back on Twitter. And I tweet, “Guys, today, there are just some lines that should not be crossed.” “Especially the finish line.” And again, I think,

“Nailed it.

U.S.A.!

U.S.A.!”

But then my phone starts to ring. And it’s my boss. Or should I say my former boss. And they say, “Anthony, this is unacceptable. You are not just a comedian today. You’re also the host of your own TV show, with your name in the title, on our network. 

You take this joke down right now or you’re fired.” And I say, “Go fuck yourselves.” And I meant it. I didn’t get into comedy for money or fame. I know that sounds wrong, because I’m dripping with both.

I only got into this business so that no one could tell me what to do. And they said… Sure. They said, “Well, Anthony, you don’t understand. You don’t understand at all. If you don’t take this joke down right now, if you don’t delete this joke right now, not only are you fired, but the entire cast and crew of your television show, about a hundred people, they’re also out of a job.”

And I’m ashamed to tell you this. I’m embarrassed to admit it. But in that moment, I folded, and I deleted the joke. ‘Cause I’m happy to fight for what I believe in. I’m happy to take the consequences for what I’ve done. But what I could not do, cannot do, is walk up to my cameraman and say,

“Hey, buddy, no work for you on Monday. I had this sweet tweet.”

Couldn’t do it. But as soon as I hit delete, I got mad and I regretted it. I would fire every single one of those fucking assholes now, I’ll tell ya that. And I got mad for betraying myself and everything I believe in. I’m just as mad today as I was then. Just as mad. So mad, I had to have a meeting with the network, where they called me in for a little lecture. They’re like,

“Anthony, we’re family.

Why are you so upset?

Can’t you see we did you a favor?

Don’t you worry about your career?”

Let me ask you, San Francisco:

"Do I seem like I worry about my career?"

No.

You know why people who win the lottery always end up going bankrupt? Because if they’re worried about their money, they wouldn’t have played the lottery in the first fuckin’ place.

I do not worry about my career. And they said, “Anthony, the problem is when you make a joke on Twitter the day of a tragedy, it seems like you’re making fun of the victims, and that’s wrong.”

But that’s not what I’m doing.

Because, you see, the day of a tragedy, victims are not on Twitter.

Am I wrong?

Tell me I’m wrong.

No.

The day of a tragedy, victims have got victim shit to do.

No one is ever… No one is ever putting on a tourniquet, asking, “Hey, are we trending?” No. This is who I’m making fun of when I make a joke on Twitter the day of a tragedy.

The people who see something horrible happen in the world and they run to the Internet. And they run to their social media, Facebook, Twitter, whatever they got. And they all write down the exact same thing: 

“My thoughts and prayers…” 

“My thoughts and prayers with the people in Aurora.”

“My thoughts and prayers with the families in Boston.”

Do you know what that’s worth?

Fucking nothing.

Fucking less than nothing.

Less than nothing.

You are not giving any of your time, your money or even your compassion.

All you are doing, all you are doing, is saying,

“Don’t forget about me today.”

“Don’t forget about me.”

“Lots of crazy distractions in the news, but don’t forget how sads I am.”

Those people are worthless and they deserve to be made fun of.

They’re like a wedding photographer who only takes selfies.

You understand?

- Anthony Jeselnik, Thoughts and Prayers

[heyeva]

slipknot reaction: you confess your feelings for them first

:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟ

corey:

- you didn't even realise you said you had feelings for him until corey stopped and stared at you with a shocked expression

- "fuck, I shouldn't have said that. what the fuck do I do now"

- laughs at how panicked you look

- "you should have said it sooner. I have feelings for you too"

- you think he's playing with you until he gives you the biggest smooch you ever got in your life

- goes pretty well for you eheh

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

joey:

- he was in a middle of an existential crisis and was really starting to feel like he was worthless and nobody cared for or loved him

- and you didn't even think, you just said it

- "if that's true then why do I love you joey?"

- "you what?" he asks you

- poor boy, he felt so shy when you said that

- you proceeded to explain that you do actually have feelings for him

- "i've also had feelings for you too... for a while now... I just didn't know how to say it"

- happy boy joey, will love you unconditionally

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

chris:

- you both are drunk and it just slips out as one of those typical drunk confessions

- so you're just like

- "dude, you're attractive as fuck. i think i fell in love with you"

- and then he's like

- "dude, I think I love you too"

" dude"

"dude"

- and that's how it starts, he's so chill about it

- lowkey feels proud that YOU confessed to him

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰 mick:

- you could definitely tell mick was into you but you knew he wouldn't confess first

- not even if the world was ending tomorrow... he just wouldn't do it

- so you decided to take the lead and do it yourself

- you just told him

- "hey so, please let me know if I'm wrong but I think you have feelings for me... if that's the case then I would like you to know that I have feelings for you too. if not, then please pretend I never said this"

- mick was the happiest guy on earth

- the relief he felt when you said that

- "thank GOD you said that, I was dying for you to figure out"

- becomes the softest guy towards you <3

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

jim:

- you're friends but you guys always flirt and tease each other

- and people do actually think you're in a relationship

- so when people ask both of you go like: "us? together?? never in my life"

- well, both of you are certified liars

- you guys are absolute simps for each other

- one day you just decide to say it yourself

- "listen, I think it's enough with the games. I have feelings for you and I want something serious"

- happy jim because he genuinely likes you so much and now he knows you're his ehehe <3

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰 sid:

- this fucking weirdo

- you guys were playing truth and dare

- of COURSE he asked you the question

- "y/n is it true that you have feelings for me?"

- "yes sid, it actually is"

- that SMILE HE HAD ON HIS FACE, LIKE HE HAD JUST WON THE LOTTERY

- straight up kisses you, he is so so so happy

- his ego went high high up

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰 shawn:

- drops you hints every single dat that he's into you but he just doesn't want to say it in case you don't like him back :(

- but you do

- "I let you play this game for awhile now because think you're cute... I'm really into you Shawn"

- his reaction was priceless... his heart was full <3

- couldn't stop bragging about it to the guys...

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰 craig:

- this is the other way around, you kept dropping hints but of course craig wasn't gonna do shit about it

- you genuinely thought he didn't like you... at all because he always seemed to be avoiding you

- only talked to you unless he really had to, and if you guys were in the same room he would be far away from you

-so, Craig is one of these people when he is into someone... it's his way of showing it

- once you say it he will open up and obviously let you know he feels the same for you

- also apologises for making you feel like he hated you when in reality he didn't

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰 paul:

- most people already think you have something going on to be fair...

- always holding each other at all times

- always taking care of each other... sweet words... dates...

- one day you guys were just cuddling and you just felt the need to let him know

- his heart quite literally melt, he could swear he was the happiest man on earth

- gives you so many kisses after you said it

- he was waiting for this moment for so long :(

[sunder-soul]

I’ll start off by saying I adore this blog due to how amazing ur writing is & how active u r, it makes me so happy. I’m hoping you could write some tom smut where he’s the virgin & the reader (preferably a hufflepuff) is the experienced one? (cause I really can’t imagine Tom being popular or caring about sex in hogwarts). Like I can just imagine him having no idea what to do & letting the reader take in control and he’s highkey loving every minute of it (like he’s secretly just a sub).

You cannot imagine the effect this had on me. I… I am a changed person.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Nox

Summary: You’re trapped in a closet with Tom Riddle playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. What happens in the dark, stays in the dark. Word count: 4.8k Content warning: explicit sex scenes. Underage drinking I guess?

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

It had taken some convincing to get you to come to the party, but you’d have to admit that it had been more fun than you’d expected – the Slytherin common room was the perfect place for a post-Quidditch game blow out, hidden away under the lake where the Professors wouldn’t hear the music blasting from enchanted gramophones, the creepy light filtering in through the tall glass windows leading into the dark waters of the lake giving the perfect background under the dim green lanterns illuminating the party.

You’re drunk on Firewhisky that a group of cheeky-faced seventh-year Gryffindor boys brought to bribe their way inside, and by the time the party is winding down at around two in the morning you’re laid out across Ruth Willows’ lap on one of the black leather couches by the fireplace, giggling and very unwilling to move.

“Alright you two,” one of the Slytherin boys you don’t recognise says, smirking. “Clear out – this is strictly Slytherin territory again.”

“Aww, come on, Hartley,” Ruth says teasingly, “don’t tell me you’re done for the night – out-partied by a couple of Hufflepuffs, are you?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Willows,” Hartley says seriously, pointing at her.

You sit up, the room spinning around you in a pleasant, warm way. “We can take you,” you say cheerily, resting your head on Ruth’s shoulder.

There’s a smattering of laughs from the circle of lingering party-goers – You and Ruth are the only Hufflepuffs left, but there’s a couple of Gryffindors too, and you recognise some sixth-year Ravenclaw boys whispering to each other next to the fireplace.

“A game, then,” Hartley declares, looking around the circle with a grin.

“A game!” you and Ruth echo cheerfully, lifting your drinks.

“Alright, who’s playing? Scott? Peters? How about you, Avery?”

You glance over your shoulder to the far corner of the Slytherin room at the only group left in at the party – the gaggle of Slytherin boys who had spent the whole evening sitting at the circular table looking disapprovingly at the revelry as they sipped their drinks and evidently thought themselves far too mature for such nonsense. You share an amused look with Ruth.

“No thank, you,” Avery says aloofly, turning up his nose.

“Too good for a bit of fun, are you?” one of the Gryffindor boys snickers.

“They’re just trying to show off,” another smirks back, “think they’re acting all grown up and responsible –”

“I’ll join you,” says a very unexpected voice.

The whole circle looks around in shock. Tom Riddle has stood from the table and approaches the couches, his acolytes staring after him looking surprised. “What are we playing?” Riddle asks pleasantly, taking a seat on the couch opposite you – Ella Scott from Slytherin scrambles to the side to make room for him looking like she’s just won the lottery.

“That’s the spirit, Riddle,” beams Hartley, “not like those hoity-toity friends of yours, are you?”

Riddle smiles with far too much charm as he laces his arm over the back of the couch and crosses one long leg over the other, his Slytherin boys sliding into spare places around the circle and casting him perplexed looks of surprise.

“So?” Ruth asks expectantly, grinning at Hartley. “What’s the game?”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Hartley smirks.

The circle erupts; the Gryffindor boys whoop with cheers as the Ravenclaws groan and roll their eyes, and you laugh softly as your head rolls back against Ruth’s shoulder, the alcohol still making the room spin slightly.

“I don’t know this game,” Riddle says quietly through the cacophony – though everyone seems to hear him with ease all the same.

“It’s the best game ever invented,” the first Gryffindor boy grins – you think his name is Rory but you can’t remember his surname. “When it’s your turn, you spin your wand on table and whoever it points to has to spend seven minutes with you in the broom closet.”

“What is the point of that?” Riddle frowns.

There’s a smattering of snickers and Riddle’s frown vanishes at the sound, his face going strangely blank.

“Making out, of course,” Rory smirks, “catch on, Riddle.”

Riddle’s face remains expressionless but there’s a coldness to it that the others don’t seem to notice as they continue to chuckle quietly. He clearly doesn’t like being laughed at.

“Who’s going first?” you say quickly, looking around the circle to distract them.

“Hartley’s the one who suggested this, he should start,” a Slytherin girl (April…? Avril…?) smirks.

“Only because Willows goaded me!” Hartley accuses, pointing at Ruth.

“I’ll happily go first,” Ruth says with an easy smile, “since Hartley’s too chicken.”

There’s a low murmur of amusement as Hartley’s eyes narrow at Ruth leaning forward and spinning her wand on the table – only to explode into raucous laugher when it comes to a stop pointing directly at –

“Looks like you’ll be going first after all, Hartley,” Ruth says breezily, standing. “After you,” she gestures theatrically at the wooden door to the broom closet in the corner, and Hartley gets up from the couch looking extremely gobsmacked.

“Make sure you return him in one piece,” April/Avril snickers.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Ruth says without missing a beat, grinning as she slams the door to the closet shut behind them.

“Hufflepuff’s got a set of claws on her,” the other Gryffindor boy laughs.

“Badgers are a natural predator of snakes,” you sigh, lying back on the couch and throwing back your arms in a content dizziness. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

You lie there listening to the group talk and laugh, the reedy music wheedling away in the background, and by the time the closet bursts open again it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all – though perhaps that’s the alcohol talking.

“And that,” Ruth exclaims, falling back onto the couch beside you, “is how it’s done.”

“How’s Hartley?” you ask her, laying your head back on her lap.

“He’ll never be the same,” she says smoothly, inspecting her nails.

The group is still laughing when Hartley sits back down on the floor beside the table, his hair dishevelled and his expression rather shell-shocked.

“Have fun mate?” Rory smirks, clapping him on the shoulder.

Hartley nods blankly, and the laughter only grow.

“Alright then, who’s next?” Ruth says loudly, looking very pleased with herself.

The turn passes counter-clockwise, and April/Avril gets landed with one of the reluctant Ravenclaw boys before Edgar Peters spins Rory. Scott casts Tom next to her a very unsubtle hopeful look before she spins her wand, but when it lands on Lestrange she has the good sense not to look too disappointed.

“Alright Riddle,” Rory grins, his arm now around Edgar’s shoulders (who is blushing violently). “Your turn.”

There’s something strangely blank about Tom’s face as he leans forward and sets his wand on the table, and you let your head loll to the side to watch with interest as Tom’s long, pale fingers deftly spin his wand. You cast an eye around the circle and fail to hold in a laugh; nearly everyone is watching in utter rapture, mostly leaning forward expectantly. Your laugh is drowned out by the noise that erupts across the group when Tom’s wand comes to a gradual stop pointing directly at your face.

“Is that me or you?” you ask Ruth languidly, looking up at her from her lap.

“That’s you,” she smirks down at you, “I’ve had quite enough Slytherin for one night.”

“Alright then,” you sigh, sitting up and stretching before swinging your legs off the couch and sprightly standing.

Tom is looking up at you blankly, unmoved from the couch.

“Well come on then,” you say in amusement, waving your hands at him. “The clock doesn’t start until the door shuts, you know.”

Riddle blinks and then smoothly stands, and you totter around the couch and stroll towards the door to the closet, still buzzing from the Firewhiskey. Riddle follows you silently, not looking at you as you hold the door open for him.

“Have fun!” someone shouts from the couches to general giggles.

You roll your eyes and let the door fall shut. Darkness and utter silence immediately falls, and you realise at once that at least one of the previous players has cast a muffling charm on the door to stop any potential eavesdropping.

“Lumos Volant,” you murmur.

A little ball of warm yellow light springs from your wand and hovers happily above the two of you, casting the inside of the closet into view – it’s small and cramped, a table stacked with boxes of books and old parchments beside you and shelves crammed with all sorts of things on every wall, hedging you in. Tom is standing in the middle of the closet, his dark, even gaze on you. There’s something suddenly very funny to you about the fact that he’s still wearing his uniform, impeccable as always.

“I thought lights were not permitted,” he says quietly.

You lift yourself up onto the edge of the table, feet swinging slightly. “I thought we might talk for a moment,” you say casually, looking around the closet.

Tom hesitates. “Talk?” he asks slowly.

“You’ve not done this before, have you?” you ask him, meeting his gaze with a tilt to your head.

“I believe I made it quite clear that I’m unfamiliar with the rules of this –”

“Not the game,” you interrupt, shaking your head with a soft smile. “This.” You gesture between the two of you.

Silence returns. Tom looks at you with an impenetrable expression as you wait for his reply, your feet still swinging lightly.

“And why would you think that?” he eventually asks, very evenly.

You shrug. “Just my read on you, I suppose. Am I wrong?”

Tom just leans back against the shelves, his hands pushing back his robes and sliding into the pockets of his slacks. For the first time you take a moment to appreciate exactly how good-looking he is; the black waves of his hair, the high cheekbones, the elegant curve of his lips – and the naturally regal quality of his features only augmented by the calm composure he always seemed to radiate. It was easy to see why he’d been made prefect, why Slughorn always fawned over him, why everyone said that he’d be Minister for Magic one day.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you say conversationally.

Tom arches one of his dark brows. “What do you mean?” he asks in wry amusement.

“A stranger in a closet at a party?” you smile. “With a time limit, no less… Not exactly a very romantic setting.”

“I’m not a romantic,” Tom says lightly, looking away.

“No,” you say quietly. “You’re not, are you?”

Tom’s eyes flash to yours. For a moment you think you see something almost annoyed in his eyes, like your comment rubbed him the wrong way, and then the look is gone and his attention returns to the closet. “Your read on me appears to be quite extensive,” he says distinctly.

You laugh. “Does it bother you to be so transparent?”

His lips curve into a rather unsettling smirk. “Transparent,” he echoes, looking up at the ball of light floating above. “I must say, that’s a first…”

“You don’t like being laughed at, do you?” you say nonchalantly. “Specifically when you’re being excluded – oh! Is that why you spend so much time with those horrible blood supremacists even though you’re a half-blood?”

Tom’s eyes narrow on you and his smirk vanishes immediately. Something sharp has taken over his face, and you think that perhaps if you hadn’t drunk so much Firewhiskey, you’d find it scary.

“You tell those boys what to do, don’t you? They listen to you even when they don’t want to – Avery didn’t even want to play tonight but he followed you the second you came over. Are you in control all the time?” you ask curiously. “Is that why you dress all…” you wave a hand at his absolutely perfect uniform, shoes charmed to a shine, hair set into tidy waves, Slytherin tie dead straight and his prefect badge gleaming on his robes. “Well anyway, I suppose that would explain the grades, too.”

“Extensive indeed,” Tom breathes, tone very cool. “Is there more?”

“Yes,” you smile, holding the edge of the table lightly. “I don’t think you’re one to be coerced into doing something you don’t want to do.”

“Is that so?” Tom asks icily.

You nod. “Which means you want to be here.”

“I’m regretting it already.”

“You are not,” you scoff, “or you would have left.”

“I’m considering it,” he snaps.

“Come here.”

Tom’s expression falters, his brow furrowing. “What?”

You lift a hand and motion him closer with a casual wave. “Come here,” you repeat softly.

Tom huffs disapprovingly and looks away. “If I were really so transparent you would know not to give me orders,” he says coolly.

“Tom.”

His eyes find yours immediately, and you tilt your head again. “I’m not ordering you,” you say quietly, “I’m inviting you.”

Tom frowns slightly, something very calculating about the way he looks at you in the ensuing silence. After a long moment, Tom gently pushes off the wall and takes three slow steps towards you, stopping a respectful distance from where you’re sitting on edge of the table, his hands still in his pockets.

You smile, amused. “Closer.”

The blankness has returned to his face. You wonder if perhaps that’s how he looks when he doesn’t know how to look.

Tom takes the final step towards you, just barely brushing your knees, looking down at you with impenetrable eyes. You slowly reach forward and gently take his wrists, pulling his hands from his pockets and placing them lightly on your thighs. Tom doesn’t react, he only keeps his eyes on yours, his hands utterly still where you’ve placed them. You let your own remain on top of his as you look up at him, watching his face curiously as you gently guide his hands to push your knees apart.

He blinks, the barest flicker of his eyelids, a seemingly involuntary reaction – but that was what you’re looking for. Something beyond the composure. Something out of his control.

Slowly, you glide your hands up his forearms, keeping your eyes on his face and watching for his reaction. You can feel his warmth through his robes, his body beneath the impeccable layers of his uniform, your touch traveling up to his shoulders, down across his chest, and in a single, unbroken motion you lace your fingers around his tie and pull gently.

Tom’s eyes flicker again, but he lets you pull him down towards you, smooth and slow, and you feel anticipation thrumming in your chest as he gets closer, those dark eyes fixed on yours, his expression still blank and inscrutable. He’s less than an inch from your lips when you stop. Tom pauses at once, bent to you with his hands still resting on your thighs, your knees brushing against his hips. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath warm on your face.

“Are you quite sure I can’t order you around?” you ask softly, leaning up and very gently pressing your lips right next to his mouth. Tom exhales slightly, his eyes closing. You smile and then press your lips up against his neck, right in the most vulnerable point under his jaw. “I think you might like it,” you murmur against his skin.

Satisfaction curls in your stomach when you feel his fingers press ever-so-slightly harder into your thighs. “What would you have me do?” Tom asks quietly, and he’s almost entirely successful at concealing the slight thickness in his voice – but not quite.

“I’d have you move those hands of yours,” you say softly, your lips trailing back up his jaw. “I didn’t put them there to stay still.”

Tom exhales again, tense and measured, and then very slowly his hands slide up your thighs. His hands are warm and reserved, travelling to your hips as you press your lips against his pulse point and listen to his breathing, the deliberateness of it, the brittle tension in it. Tom is trying very hard to remain in control.  

You pull away and Tom’s hands fall still on your waist. His eyes have gone hooded and dark, and a flutter of excitement swells in your stomach at the sight. “Keep going,” you say quietly, gently pulling on his tie again, bringing him down to your lips and holding him there, barely a breath away.

Tom hesitates only for a second before his hands start to move again, sliding up your waist, your ribcage, the side of your chest – you nearly smile at how obvious he’s being at avoiding touching your breasts – up your collarbones, your neck, coming to a halt on either side of your jaw.

For a moment he holds you there, and you hold him there too, your hand on his tie anchoring him in place mere milimetres from you. His gaze is level but you can see the hesitation behind his eyes, feel the reservation in his hands.

“Nox,” you whisper against his lips.

The light above you goes out.

In the darkness, the warmth is all-encompassing, the sound of his breath louder, the heady, rich scent of him more potent, and the feeling of his hands on your skin more overpowering, and you lean without hesitation, kissing him slow and smooth, and…

Your stomach twists. He’s kissing you back just the same, restrained at first, hesitant like you were expecting, but when your arms slide up around his neck to pull him closer, drawing him into you, some of Tom’s restraint starts to falter. His hands against your face hold you more firmly, his breathing getting sharper, and his head tilts to the side to kiss you deeper. When you lock your ankles together behind him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips he breaks the kiss and you look up blindly into the dark.

“What?” you ask softly.

“I… you were right,” he says, still breathing slightly harder than normal. “I haven’t… done this before.”

“Do you want to?”

There’s a ringing silence. You frown in the dark. “You don’t have to, Tom.”

“You’ve already noted that I’m not one to be coerced into doing something that I don’t want to do,” Tom says smoothly, leaning back down to your lips.

“Right on that count too, was I?” you smile, kissing him again before he has a chance to reply.

Tom inhales and his hands pull your face closer to him, his mouth moving more insistently, and as you twist your fingers through the soft waves of his hair, you experimentally brush your tongue against his top lip. He immediately pulls away again and you laugh softly.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “too much?”

He hesitates. “I wasn’t expecting it,” he says evenly. Some of the restraint has returned.

“Shall I do it again? Now that you’re expecting it?” you ask with no small amount of amusement.

By way of reply Tom slowly leans in again and kisses you deeply, and then – exactly as you had done – his tongue traces your top lip, like he’s mimicking you. He is mimicking you, you realise as you kiss him back enthusiastically, he’s copying what you’re doing because he doesn’t know what else to do.

If you’re leading by example, then there’s only one thing for it.

You slide your hands from around his neck down his body, pressing your hands flat against his chest and sighing against his lips – he feels good. Down your hands fall, curving under his jumper, gently tugging his shirt from his trousers, and Tom is kissing you harder and harder, stepping in closer, a hand falling from your face and slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your fingers brush his warm stomach and Tom breaks the kiss again, his head falling onto your shoulder as you touch him, your hands travelling around his hips and up his back. His skin is soft and smooth, his body lean and warm, and you’re breathing hard yourself when Tom lifts his head again.

“Can I…” he says slowly.

“Can you what?” you breathe.

Tom slowly kisses you, full and open, his lips lingering when he pulls away. When he speaks, he’s so close that you can feel his lips forming the words against yours. “Can I touch you?” he murmurs.

You laugh softly again. “If you weren’t so opposed to being ordered around, I would have already told you to.”

Tom’s arm around your waist tightens and pulls you into another kiss, and this time when his tongue brushes your lips you reach up and take his other hand from where he’s still cupping your face, gently guiding it down your neck, down the swell of your chest – Tom’s breathing takes on that same brittle quality – down your hip, your thigh, coming to a stop where the hem on your dress rests just above your knees.

Your lips draw from his and there’s a ringing silence. Too quiet. You realise that you’re both holding your breath.

“Is this what you meant?” you ask softly.

Tom swallows, and he nods.

You kiss him again, sliding his hand up your thigh and under your dress. When you bring his hand up to the hollow where your thigh meets your hip, Tom exhales again, breaking the kiss as his head tilts down. “I… I’ve never…” he says slowly, swallowing again. “I don’t know what to do,” he finishes quietly, and you can hear the conflict in his voice, his pride battling with his desire.

“Would you like me to show you?” you murmur.

He takes a breath and nods again.

You guide his hand inwards, the touch of his fingers against the outside of your underwear making heat spread across your skin. Slowly, you push Tom’s hand into place and carefully press to curve his fingers. When he feels how wet you are Tom breathes out very shakily and then – to your surprise – his lips are against yours, kissing you as you move his fingers with your own, showing him what to do.

He’s a fast learner. Tom’s fingers slide gently against you, mimicking what you show him and kissing you the whole time – it’s too much very quickly, and you can’t keep yourself from moaning as searing pleasure burns at his touch, smothered by his kiss. Soon you draw your hand away, confident that he knows how to continue, and place your palm against his cheek to draw him closer into the kiss. Tom’s grip around you tightens, his tongue meeting yours, the pressure and speed of his fingers just barely increasing and making you gasp into his mouth.

“Like that?” he asks softly.

“Like that,” you breathe, your eyes squeezing shut as tension coils in your core. “Don’t… don’t stop…”

Tom’s mouth presses hot against your jaw and your head falls back automatically, his lips moving – just like yours had  – right on the vulnerable part under your jawbone.

You feel the pleasure hike, growing and growing, and then with your palm still flat on Tom’s cheek and your other curled into a fist around his tie, it hits you hard, gasping as the dark closet seeming to spin with lights for a moment before you slowly come down.

Tom slowly draws his hand from you, and over your own panting you can hear him take a long, tense breath that sounds suspiciously shaky.

“Now,” you say a little breathlessly, “it’s your turn.”

Tom is silent as you slide your palm down his neck, his chest, keeping one hand fixed around his tie as the other brushes his hip, slips under his shirt again and traces the top of his trousers.

With a small, sharp tug on his tie, Tom’s mouth is nearly against yours again and you hear his breath stutter. “Do you want me to touch you?” you whisper against his lips.

He swallows. Nods.

Your fingers curl around the button of his trousers, pull it open, and then slowly undo the zip. Tom reaches up and takes your face in his hands, taking another shaky breath as his forehead presses against yours, and you can almost imagine his eyes closing, the tension on his face, the wanting.

Slowly, knowing that you’re teasing him, you slide your hand against his skin just beneath the line of his trousers, feeling the flat warmth of his stomach, the sharp angle of his hip bone – Tom’s hands hold your face tighter and he’s trying to control his breathing as you push your hand lower, lower –

There’s a rap on the door that makes you both jump and you pull your hand from him quickly.

“Time’s up!” someone yells from outside, muffling charm broken. “That’s seven minutes!”

You suppress a laugh as you reach for your wand on the table next to you. Just when things were getting good… “Lumos Volant,” you say again softly.

From your wand the same ball of light erupts, and you freeze.

Tom is still standing in front of you, but he looks nothing like when you saw him last. The refined, impeccable, composed Tom Riddle has been replaced by a figure unlike any you’ve seen – Tom’s dark hair is tousled and curled, his eyes black with hunger, his lips slick and pink and his cheeks flushed. His tie hangs loose from his crumpled collar, his shirt untucked and his trousers still unbuttoned.

Worst of all is the way he’s looking at you.

Tom’s dark, ravenous eyes sweep over you in what must be the same way you’ve been looking at him, lingering on the sleeve of your dress fallen from your shoulder, the hem pushed up all the way to reveal your thighs where his elegant, pale hands are resting. Whatever he finds on your face catches his attention because his jaw tightens and he looks on the brink of leaning in again.

“We… should…” you say slowly, unable to look away from him.

He nods silently.

Neither of you move.

You clear your throat and force your gaze off his face, straightening your dress pointedly and standing. Tom’s uniform slides back into its usual perfection with a single wave of his hand, but as he moves to step past you, your palm flashes up and catches his chest. Tom looks down at you at once and your heart skips a beat at the heat in his eyes.

“Your… your hair,” you say sheepishly, nodding at it. “You might want to…” You reach up before he can and push your fingers through it, smoothing it out and returning it to its regular impeccable state.

Tom’s eyes don’t leave yours as you touch him, and your cheeks grow warm, pointedly not lowering your gaze to his as you work.

“There,” you say quietly, smiling at him as your hands drop.

He doesn’t step away. He just looks down at you.

Your face gets warmer still. “Listen,” you say softly, “do you… want to keep this between us?”

The barest hint of a frown appears on Tom’s face. “Why would I want that?” he asks evenly.

“I just thought you might,” you shrug.

His lips flicker into what might be called a smile. “Just your read on me?” he asks with the faintest brush of dry humour.

“So?” you smile, rolling your eyes slightly. “Would you like that?”

Tom’s expression falls sober. After a second he steps in a little closer and you can’t ignore the way your pulse spikes when he lifts his fingers and pushes your hair back behind your ear, so soft that you shiver. “Yes,” he says very quietly, “I would like that.”

You nod and quickly turn away before you can get distracted again, pulling the door open and humming absently as you step out. You know without needing to check that Tom is following you with that blank composure returned to his face.

“Oi oi,” Ruth calls, winking at you. “You sure took your time – longest seven minutes I’ve ever seen!”

“We just talked, Ruth,” you say with a wry grin, leaning against the back of the couch. “Tom is an excellent conversationalist.”

“Conversationalist?” she repeats, smirking. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“We should be going,” you say dryly, giving her a look. “It’s nearly three in the morning and we’ve got Apparating class tomorrow.”

“Merlin’s beard, if I don’t splinch myself it’ll be a bloody miracle,” Ruth mutters, standing. “Alright you lot, try not to do anything too irresponsible once we’re gone!”

You catch Tom’s eye as he sits back down on the couch, but both of you look away again.

“Good night lovely people!” Ruth calls gaudily, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you across the Slytherin common room towards the steps, “Oh – and Hartley.”

The circle snickers, and you chance one last glance over your shoulder at Tom – but he’s not looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the little table in between the black leather couches, on his wand resting there, still pointing at where you’d been sitting.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

To request sequels/being tagged in follow-ups, leave a reply in the notes!  💖

[youn9racha]

I Know (Part I)

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight adult content, swearing, suggestive actions, elements of stalker behavior

Extra notes: characters mentioned are all above the age 21 years, a lot of hatred towards the male figure lol. Also this is my first time writing on tumblr, so please bare with me, it may not be the best, but I still hope you enjoy it :)

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

part ii is up !!!

—————————————————————————————————

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised

—————————————————————————————————

Men…

Truly the scums of the Earth, who do no good for no one, and are an absolute menace to society. But oh, do I enjoy the looks of their faces at times. The way they would look at me with full hope and infatuation, with full beliefs that I would step down and give them all they want from me.

Hmph. How cute… and pathetic. How pathetic to assume and lower my standards for them. They all are the same. All but one however.

All that men hating… and yet, only one I’d be willing to go down to his level.

Yes, its him… He whom a lot would have not sought to be with, not many would expect a bombshell like myself would be with. But I do not see that in him, not an ounce of what many insecure individuals would see. I see something striking that not many could see, an underrated dignified beauty that anyone could wish to admire. A fanciable and irresistible personality and face.

He was a man.. but a pleasant one.

It all started when I moved in into a new flat for myself. I previously left the old complex due to the cramped environment I had that left me feeling uneasy and stressed, as well as it wasn’t even my apartment, it was for my partner, well, ex-partner. It was simply wasn’t working out, due to our seeming never ending conflicts. But enough of the past, let us move on..

I found this flat that is comfortable and the rent pays well, its only downside is that my room’s window is faced to the next door’s flat, however it’s not a big detriment or big turn off for me so it was fine by me, and also it was prone to have random, yet rare, blackout, but then again what neighborhood doesn’t have that. Anyhow, I was set to take the complex, but before I did, I have noticed something about the neighbor’s window next to me. It was a man. A really good looking one too. Giving his side profile, he was laying on his bed, his black hair covered head bopping with earphones placed in ears, laptop placed in his revealing shorts adorned lap. My eyes began started to stare into his arms then onto his naked well built chest, which indicates that he likes to keep up with his health, as his ring adorned hands was tapping away in his keyboard. I quickly looked away when I saw him repositioned his laptop, and walked out of the soon-to-be my room.

Great… I’ve entered Hell.

But I didn’t let it affect my decisions and got the apartment nonetheless, here I am now, weeks after the incident, sitting in my car, outside of the building, still thinking about the man in his laptop. Has he noticed that I was staring at him? Does he know that there’s gonna be someone living next to him? I hope not. And if he has, I must apologize to him. But before that, let me unload my car. I have gradually put my stuff into the complex as the days go by, it seems dragging, but it felt like the time went by fast, so I’m glad I have done that. However, today was different, as I took stuff more than I usually did, as I desperately do not want to go back to my ex. Typically, I never had assistance, as usually my best friend would join in and help out, but at a time I needed them the most, they had to be really sick. They still were willing to help, but I insisted that they shouldn’t and should rest.

After thinking, I sighed and got out my car, ready to fight the battle that is putting my stuff into my complex. I opened the trunk, eyes meeting my stuff, and I begin to groan. ‘Dammit, (y/n), why do you have that many stuff?!’ I thought to myself. I really should’ve had at least one more visit to my ex, but alas I picked to just take all all together in one day. I picked up a box until..

“Need any help?” I heard someone behind me asking me. I turned around and looked at the source. ‘God damn, is it just me, or does this town just bring out more attractive people?’ I thought to myself, as I see a man that looked like he could be at a museum. He had a sandy brown curly hair, slightly tanned skin, really plump and a crazy jawline. He donned a tank top that barely covered his side torso, and basket ball shorts that complimented his really nice, thick… thighs… yeah… Needless to say he was really attractive.

It seems that I was ogling him, rather than responding, as he shyly smiled and waved his hand in front of my face, “hello,” he softly said as I shook my head and looked back at his face apologetically.

“I am so sorry, I am just really tired, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I cringed at my pathetic way of justifying of me literally internally lusting over him. I really am turning into someone I dread to be. How can I forgive myself?

“That’s okay, I know how moving can get tiring, and I sense that you’re alone, so please let me and my friend help you out.” He said, sympathetically smiling a sweet smile, already grabbing a box out of my hand. God, if this man has a partner, then they’re the luckiest person ever, and if he’s single, I’ll gladly hand him a ring. What am I saying? (y/n), what the hell has gotten into you?!

“I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris or Chan, whichever you prefer is fine, what’s your name?” The generous man’s voice interrupted my inner battle and I found myself looking at him again. “(y/n)” I smiled at him, which he nodded back.

“Nice to meet you,” Chan said, looking back and see that his friend showed up, meanwhile, I went back to my trunk and got out more stuff from my car “oh, there he is!” Chan enthusiastically announced.

“(y/n), meet my friend and roommate, Changbin.” Chris said, while I got out the box and looked at the other man, my face shifted from contentment to horrific.

Its the man with the laptop.

“Hello? Chan, are you sure she’s okay?” Changbin looked at Chris with worry. “Yeah, she’s just tired, just nudge her.”

It’s like Chris knew me too well, despite meeting for less than 10 minutes, as Chris slightly pushed me with the box, not enough to hurt me, but enough to put me out of a trance.

“huh? I did it again, did I?” I looked at Chan, worryingly, which he nodded. I looked back at Changbin and the pathetic act was brought up again.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me.” I apologized once again, which Changbin only smirked. “Don’t worry about it,” He said, carrying a box. Something about that smirk and tone seems off. Not off in a menacing way, but off in a… coy way. Maybe not the best term to use, maybe I am just over analyzing, but I am for sure either winning the lottery tonight, or convinced that the sun will rise from the west tomorrow, since I have two very attractive men helping out, one of which is someone whom I may have an odd fascination for a while now.

~~

The two have been nothing but a delight to interact with, their help with the stuff had done me even more than just a solid. However, I still in a way feel a bit unsettled by Changbin. It wasn’t that he was a creep, or did anything to make me uncomfortable, its just this feeling of guilt I carry with me. Meanwhile, I didn’t attempt anything, and I just simply just admired him from afar, it still felt wrong that I was just looking at him while he was barely wearing anything, let alone while not him paying attention. Despite this, it seems that he doesn’t know that I did what I did, which is why I chose to confront him about it when the time is right, which is probably when we start getting even more comfortable. I have exchanged numbers with both men, even though I could probably just go out my window and yell out their names, but I’d rather not disturb the peace.

Two good looking men are now my neighbors… Who would have thought? Whichever entity that is in existence have decided to play with me, because to them, my humiliation would be their laughing stock, because they definitely would have seen what is to become of me.

Its been a week in since I moved, and interacted with the two Chans, and I am glad that a curtain was installed onto my room, just so I wouldn’t carry even more guilt than I already do. But the thing is, I would lie that I still haven’t thought of Changbin. While I would have thought that Chris fitting into more of my ideal type, Changbin however held a mysterious power that Chan didn’t.

Ever since the time I first laid eyes on Changbin, he has never left my mind. He has started to creep up in my fantasies and dreams in every way shape of form. I couldn’t stop thinking of how his arms would look around my waist, how his lips would feel in my skin, or how his hands would wander around, exploring places that many men often fail to find to make me feel good, or how his voice would be like when talking as he puts his mouth by my ear— God, this is getting out of hand, I would think.

What if he had a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to women in general? What if he finds you a creep?

So many more endless questions would come in to ruin me, but its not like i have a choice, he just happened to settle into my dreams and thoughts, and went with it.

I decided to take a shower to try and distract myself from these thoughts, which didn’t help at all, as the hot water cascading my skin did nothing but accelerated my lustful thoughts. I decided to get out of the shower, as it didn’t help my case.

Damn you, Changbin.

I sighed, put on some underwear and a robe while having a towel wrapped around my hair. I got out of the bathroom and back to my room. It was dark out, and in my room, the only light came out of it were my night lamp, which barely lit up the whole room. I checked the window, making sure Changbin wasn’t there, or at least not facing the window, only to see his window being covered with curtains.

Great timing, could’ve used that when I first saw you, dipshit.

But nonetheless, I was really glad at least he wasn’t visible. I laid back on my bed, and decided to look through social media, as anyone should. While in the middle of a instagram scroll, I see a caller popping through at the top of the screen…

It was Changbin.

[no-pucks-given]

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

[baecvlt]

Hello hello! I looove your work! I was wondering if I could requests Kazuichi taking his best friend(or lover! Just thought friend would make it more interesting) on a late night car ride to test some adjustments he made to it, could end up with some steamy car sex? Hopefully this made sense! I've been craving this kind of fic

Car Sex: Kazuichi Soda x Reader

a/n: It’d be an honor to write this. Hope you enjoy! ALso VERY WELL ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIP HERE + projecting my interests onto reader because I get selfish AND I feel like Kaz listens to rock/alt/indie music. K byeee. ALSO READER IS FEM, pls specify next time

It was a Friday night, you were out for dinner with your best friend, Kazuichi Soda. You were glad to finally get out the house. It got lonely, plus you got to catch up with him and see him personally. He offered to pay for your meal, you allowed it since this time you were tight on money. As he paid, you notice he was excited about something.

“I know this is so last minute,” he began,“But I was wondering if you’d come back to the shop with me”

You nodded, but remained curious. “Of course, I’ll go, but why?”. He leaned toward you and he was excited. His leg was shaking and hands slightly shaking. “I’m finally finished with my car!,” he cheered,“I want you to be the very first to join me for a test drive!”. You smiled. Kazuichi had been working on this car since high school. He almost gave up on it too, so you were happy he never gave up on it. “Of course I’ll go!,” you told him, just as cheerful as he was. You both has walked to the restaurant, now walked back to the shop.

His family was there, closing the shop up. You obviously greeted them. He walked right past them and to the garage. A sheet was on top of the car. Once you were in the room, he walked towards it. He grabbed the sheet, doing a small countdown. “3..2..1-”. He yanked the sheets off, revealing a new and improved car. “So, what do ya think?”. You were excited with him now. “Jesus, the paint job on this is amazing!,” you said to him. “‘May have taken me my whole high school and half my college experience to finish it, but it was worth it!”.

“Totally”

“What do ya say? Should we take it out for a spin”

“You don’t have to ask me twice”

He cheered quietly, opening the passenger door for you and hopping into the driver’s side. He opened the garage door, pulling out of the driveway. He had only driven down the street and you saw how nervous he was. You grabbed his hand, he gasped when you did. “Hey, I’m sure the car is fine, don’t stress out”. He smiled, putting his arm around you. You relaxed laying back. You drove around for about half an hour, going up some hill to a mountain. “Where are we going?,” you asked him.

“We’re gonna look at the stars”

“Ooo, nice”

He parked by the edge of the mountain. It was weird because no other cars were to be seen. Usually there were. “By the way, I wanna show you the coolest thing here,” he said, opening the glove compartment. He took out a CD, Slowdive's 1993 album Souvlaki, and revealed he had a working stereo. "Holy shit, it works?," you were excited. He nodded, popping in the CD. "I love Slowdive," you mumbled. He smiled, chuckling a little.

"I know. You were listening to it the day we met"

"Oh! I was...Yeah, I remember you came up to me that day. You were so awkward"

"Right? God, I feel like I acted like a douche"

"You were like,'Hey, we shouldn't be able to hear your music'"

"Yeah, yeah. Then you were all,'Oh, sorry!'. Then, I was like,'Don't worry, but anyway, Slowdive, huh?'"

You both laughed. "God, I felt that you were trying to hit on me that moment," You told him,"But you're just...you're really nice". Smiling, he shook his head. "Do you miss high school?," he asked. You thought about it for a moment. Did you? "You know what," you began,"Partially". He was confused. "What do you mean?".

"Well, we all had good times in high school. We had good friends, all those memories. We've kinda drifted away, but that's why I partially miss it"

"So why don't you?"

"I felt like I didn't belong"

He looked at you sympathetically. "You all had an established talent. I didn't," you told him,"Sometimes, I still wish I hadn't gone". Hearing you say so saddened him. "But you're good at a lot," he said,"You were better than everyone there". "You're just saying--".

"No! I swear, you are talented at a lot. It was just never put into one thing. You aren't alone either. Hajime never had an exact talent, Nagito won a lottery...you belonged there just as anybody else. You are a Jack of All Trades—"

"—Master of None."

"NO! You are the master of all!"

You smiled. "I care so much about you. I'm really glad we met. I just know that if we hadn't met my life wouldn't be the way it is now...," he said,"So, please, never say that again! You belonged there". You lay back in your seat, trying not to cry. For the first time in forever you felt like you had a place in the world, it felt weird, but not bad. You weren't used to feeling important. "Are you even happy with your life?". He looked at his thumbs when you asked him that. You were afraid of his answer, you didn't know why, but you were.

"There are somethings I wish I didn't have to deal with, but when I think about you, I realize that it's all worth dealing with...and that makes me the happiest man in the world"

"Kaz..."

He said your name, his voice low when he did. It interrupted anything you wanted to say next and your thoughts were racing. "I..I—". He sighed. You knew whatever he had to say next was not easy for him to spit out. "You know how important this car is was for me, it took up my entire high school year to work on. I know I had fun doing it, but I didn’t build it for me,” he sputtered and you could tell he was nervous,“I made this car so that...so that I'd have something to impress you with the day I had the courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I love you and I have for so long. I don't see myself being with anyone else and I wanted you to think of me as the coolest guy you'd ever met and now you probably think I'm a chump–"

You launched yourself towards him, attacking his lips and you felt his skin radiating. He felt as if he had been kissed by an angel. "I love you too, Kaz," you whispered. You really did. Crawling onto his lap, you pushed his hair back. "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me," you added, frowning,"We could have done all these cute high school couple things, then moved onto adult couple things". He kissed you this time, his hands on your hips as you nibbled his bottom lip. He managed to move you both to the passenger side in order to prevent your back setting the horn off. He stopped for a minute.

"'Adult couple things'?"

"Yeah"

"Well, we're adults now, aren't we? And who says we're too old to do what high schoolers do"

"You're not wrong either...but are you interested in doing adult things with me?"

He blushed and looked away for a minute,"I, uh- I've never done it before. I was waiting do it with someone who loves me, y'know? But- you love me, right?". You laughed, nodding. He laughed too, shaking his head as he reached up your skirt, his calloused and rough hands rubbing your thighs. "Hoh-okay, you asked for it". He leaned forwards to kiss you, grabbing the waistband of your panties as his tongue entered your mouth. He pulled them down, allowing you to remove the rest by making his seat go further back. You kicked them off, going to unzip his jeans and pull those down too along with his boxers. He was already rock hard and made you throb just looking as his cock. It was slightly above average in both length and girth, but what did you expect from a dork like him?

You took off your entire skirt before climbing right back into his lap right after pulling them down, he smirked and lowly praised you: "Good girl". He kissed you a little more before he grabbed his cock, ready to guide it inside you. "You ready?". You were shaking, but uttered a soft,"Yes...". Before he could, the Slowdive song you were listening to when you first met started playing and you knew this was meant to happen. You melted when he heard it too. It means it meant something to him and it meant as much to him as it meant to you. "You remember this song, baby?". He pressed light kisses on your forehead as you nodded. You felt his tip at your entrance and you whined. "W-Wait! Kaz, please be careful," you begged. He nodded and kissed you again. "I'll be soft," he reassured you,"Besides, I want to take my time with you. Okay?". You took a breath and relaxed.

"Okay"

"Uh, wait- I should probably ask. Did you wanna do this laying down? I don't think it's fair if you're on top during our first. Plus, I don't want your back to hurt"

"Y-Yeah, my back was starting to ache a little"

He nodded, putting the seat all the way back, now mimicking a bed. You switched positions, spreading your legs for him. He put the volume on the stereo almost all the way up before picking your legs up. He positioned himself again, pushing in just the tip. You gasped quietly, breaking into a very sweet moan as he pushed in all the way, groaning lustfully. He repeatedly pushed in: deep, but slow. He only felt his erection grow harder seeing you blush. Your little moans and soft whimpers when he'd hit that one spot you thought only you would be able to reach made him twitch inside you. He tried to keep his composure, but your walls constantly pumping him made it almost impossible. He leaned forward, desperately trying to kiss you. You could've melted right then and there, seeing how this man made love to you. "I-I love you..," he whispered against your lips. God, he was so cute too.

"I love you too, Kaz, but this is a little too slow now"

"Please, tell me what you need"

"I want you fuck me harder"

"Whatever you say, princess"

His thrusts went from "slow and deep" to "abrupt and very deep". "Like that?". You kissed him in response, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to you. His hips snapped inside you, making it harder to control your breathing. At this point, the windows as fogged up, making the air around you hot. He grabbed your breast, massaging them. You did him the favor of unbuttoning your blouse. You grabbing his hand and slipped it under your bra. "They're so pretty and warm," he mumbled. You could tell he didn't want you to hear that from how low he said it, but you heard it well. He pulled your bra down to your torso, ducking his head down to be able to suck on your breasts a little. "K-Kaz! I'm really sensitive there!". He didn't respond, so entertained by your boobs, knowing playing with them made you feel good.

Your stomach was in knots and it was hard to hold anything anymore.

It took one really hard thrust, making you squirt. He didn't even know it could do that. You didn't cum all the way through, making it uncomfortable now. You felt like you were being edged. "Kaz, it doesn't feel good anymore".

"Do we stop?"

"No, no! Just...I need to cum"

"I'll get you there"

His hands went back to your hips, slamming into you fast and deep. Your body trembled, shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again and again. "Is this okay?," his voice husky as he was nearing his orgasm too. You nodded, whining. "I-It feel so good..please don't stop," you cried,"It's so good!..". He went faster, grunting softly. You were near crying, about to release. "Are you gonna cum?". He was just as impatient as you were.

"I'm cumming, I-I'm cumming"

"I can't last anymore. C-Can I cum inside?"

"Please, baby"

He groaned you name, shooting his load in you. You knew it was a lot too, feeling it when you moved. He pulled out, laying on the other seat lazily. You were still so turned on, pumping your two fingers in and out of you, securing his cum inside you. "Good girl". You picked your braw up to cover your chest since it was getting cold. "You look so pretty," he added. You were blushing as he helped you with your clothes. Naturally, you helped him with his. "I hope this is a good time to ask, but...". "Yes?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend"

"I'm so glad you do. Yes, Kazuichi, I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Yes! Fuck Yes! Oh god, I'm so happy!"

You kissed his cheek, making him become even more giddy as he wrapped his arm around you and drove you to his home. Kissing on his bed, he hugged you tightly afterward as you shushed him to sleep.