#i've been staring at this so long i can't tell what it is anymore tbh

[delta-piscium]

the inherent intimacy of lighting your cigarettes with the same flame etc

(click for better quality + still version under the cut)

been procrastinating writing by trying to learn digital art so have this, will return to regular scheduling of rambly HC posts and occasional fics soon

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 8

from here on out this series is just going to be Lockwood and reader bonding and being annoyingly good together while coming up with steadily more ridiculous ways to piss off the bitchy cousin bc she's trying to get revenge

with that said lockwood does have a brief sad moment :(

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: swearing, references to sex (both mild and slightly less mild), sleepy lockwood, he can't talk properly when sleepy, the whole morning thing is just what I want to happen in my own life tbh, Steph (the Bitch), lockwood remembers his childhood (might make you sad), brief mentions of murder?? hypothetical murder though (that will make sense I promise), a really intense snowball fight, (can you tell I'm an archaeology student from the way I describe building forts and mud huts?), lockwood gives all the teams in the snowball fight names and they are very basic but I love them

That night when Y/n and Anthony went to bed, they stood staring awkwardly at the bed for five minutes.

"Well that armchair can't be comfortable," Y/n said, glancing sceptically at it. She wasn't sure where Anthony had slept the night before after their argument, or even if he'd slept at all, but she didn't feel right about taking the whole bed for herself anymore now that their situation had changed.

She would do it if he insisted, of course, but there would be a very tiny part of her brain telling her to be the better person. It was unlikely that she'd listen to it.

"I got used to it, and I've slept in worse places. You take the bed again. The bath surely couldn't have been nice to sleep in."

"It was actually a lot more comfortable than you'd think." They kept on looking at the bed, both in their pyjamas (Y/n had stolen one of Anthony's t-shirts already, and when she'd first walked out of the bathroom in it he'd kissed her for a good few minutes in a way that left them both breathless). "Maybe... maybe we could share? I don't know if that's too soon or anything but honestly if we've been supposedly dating since April then I think we're way past that."

"If you're happy with it then I am, darling."

"Alright. I'm having this side though." A couple of minutes later the two of them were under the covers and settled in, and Y/n reached over to turn off her bedside lamp. The room was immediately shrouded in darkness, and suddenly it felt a lot colder than before, despite the fact she was buried under the duvet. "Ant?"

"Yeah?"

"... Can I move a bit closer to you? I'm cold." She didn't get a verbal response, instead receiving the sounds of the sheets crumpling and a body shifting, and a few seconds later Anthony's warmth was surrounding her as he took her into his arms and laid her on top of him. She tangled their legs together and wrapped an arm around his torso, and he brought both of his arms around her to secure her in place.

"Is that better?" he asked, and from where her head was resting on his chest she nodded.

"Much better. Thank you."

Her breathing evened out not long after, and she fell asleep to the slightly faster than usual beating of Anthony's heart.

~~~

When morning came (or rather when the sun finally rose over the horizon, since it was just after 8 AM), Y/n woke up and tried to turn over to stretch, but found that her movements were restricted by a weight on her side.

An investigation of what was happening lead to the discovery that Anthony was now lying on top of her instead of the other way around like they had been when they went to sleep, and that was why she couldn't turn over. She went to shift him off of her, but as she went to move him she caught a glimpse of his face and realised that he looked so peaceful asleep she might just let him stay that way. He barely got enough sleep as it was, so why cut it short when he was finally getting some rest? God knew he needed it with how hard he worked to keep the company going, although that had been much easier in the past year as they had gained more popularity among the people of England (their name had been spread far and wide by happy clients).

He wasn't entirely on top of her, more lying on his stomach next to her while he rested his head on her shoulder and spread his arm out over her middle, but the weight was enough that movement was restricted. A light knock sounded from the door, making Y/n look away from her new boyfriend's face to see who it was. For some reason fear gripped her as the handle turned, but when the door opened a few seconds later to reveal her father she let out a sigh of relief. She had been worried that Stephanie was starting her research into how she was going to get her revenge already, but Y/n's cousin was almost certainly still asleep at this hour.

"Just got some tea," he whispered after Y/n put her finger to her lips, pointing down at the still-sleeping Anthony. "Where should I put it? Just here? Alright, there you go. I think we're all just going to lie in bed for as long as we think we can get away with, so don't worry about coming downstairs yet if you don't want to."

"Thanks, Dad." He crept back out the room, wincing slightly when the door hinges protested as he pulled it shut, and then he was padding down the hallway back to his own room. Soft sounds from just below her head made Y/n look down at Anthony, who had apparently been woken by the door closing. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking furiously as he attempted to properly shake himself awake, and pushed himself up a little to sleepily smile down at her.

"Morning, darling," he murmured, dropping his head to press a small kiss to her lips. "D'ya sleep alright?"

"Mmhm. Did you?" Anthony only nodded in response, eyes drifting shut every few seconds as he tried to stay conscious long enough to hold a conversation with her.

"You can go back to sleep if you want, although Dad just brought tea in if you want it."

"Ooh, that would be brilliant. D'ya want me to pour it?" Y/n stifled a giggle at his slightly slurred speech, and starting to move into a sitting position.

"Don't worry, Ant. I've got it." She poured out the water, making sure to add the honey and sugar to his at the right times, then carefully handed over the mug. "Have you got a proper hold on it? Because if you spill tea in bed then I might have to kill you."

"I can't spill tea? But how else are you meant to know that George and Flo have definitely fuc-" he was cut off when Y/n hurriedly reached out to steady his mug, the liquid inside nearly sloshing over the edge as he had been leaning in in a conspiratorial manner, forgetting he was holding a large cup of steaming hot liquid in one hand.

"Anthony! Watch what you're doing!"

"Sorry," he said, faint blush coming on to his cheeks as she scolded him. "Was jus' trying to make a joke. Although what I said about Flo and George wasn't a joke." He made a point to look her in the eyes with as much seriousness he could muster, as though it were of the utmost importance that she knew all about her colleague's sex life.

"Alright, thank you for that," she responded, making sure her tone was gentle, and when he smiled dopily she felt her heart skip a beat or two.

How the hell is he so pretty?

"You're pretty too, darling." His smile had turned smug, and she realised with a start that she'd said her previous thought out loud. Her face started heating up, and Anthony did a good job of hiding his laughter were it not for the amusement dancing in his eyes as he sipped his tea.

"Shut up," she mumbled, wanting to jab him in the side but not trusting his capabilities of holding his tea steady this early in the morning.

~~~

"Good morning, lovebirds!" Will chirped when Y/n and Anthony walked into the kitchen, and he sent a smirk their way from where he stood at the hob frying eggs. "Sleep alright?" He seemed to be asking something else though from the way his eyebrows were moving.

"Is... he okay?" he whispered instead, leaning down slightly to reach Y/n's ear.

"I talked to him in the library yesterday. After... you know."

"Ah. Right." After they had argued and then made up and then made out. "Does that mean he's up to date then?"

"Yep."

So Will knew about all of that. This could be interesting.

"They must have slept fine," Ben started, pulling out the toast that had popped and putting in more slices. "Y/n looked like she'd only just woken up when I went in with tea, and Anthony was fast asleep."

Anthony felt a blush rise up his neck and cover his face at the realisation that Ben had seen him draped over his eldest daughter, but the fond smile that appeared on Y/n's face made it worthwhile. She was wearing one of his jumpers again (she had really leaned into the habits of being his girlfriend already, which meant that many of his t-shirts and jumpers were suspiciously not in the drawers he had originally put them in), and was cosying up to his side as he leaned back against the kitchen island.

Y/n looked like she was about to say something, but at the exact moment she opened her mouth another voice was already filling the room.

"Morning everybody! How are we all today? Isn't the snow just gorgeous?"

Emma grimaced slightly before she turned around, sharing a glance with Anthony before greeting her niece. "It is, Stephanie. I take it you slept alright?"

"Oh yes, thank you!" She was weirdly chipper for somebody who had been acting like a raving lunatic the night before, and Anthony couldn't help but feel unease creep up his spine at her wide grin.

What was she up to?

"Hello, you two! Are you looking forward to going out in the snow later? I shall have to drag you out, Y/n/n, since you hate going outside!" Anthony frowned. Y/n wasn't the biggest fan of the outdoors, but whenever they gained even the slightest amount of snow she was out of the house in a flash, laughing and spinning around the street while it fell. Anthony had always accompanied her, giving the excuse that he wanted to be nearby if she tripped and fell so he could laugh (to which Lucy, George, and Holly had looked at him dubiously).

But really it was because it had been so long since he had seen anyone so carefree.

He had loved the snow as a little kid, running around trying to catch the snowflakes on his tongue, building snowmen, making snow angels, having snowball fights with his family.

Then he had been on his own, and suddenly the snow was no longer a source of warmth for him. He had looked at the roads paved in white and felt as cold as the outside air, good memories being brought up and tainted the longer he stared at it.

He could see where he had set up a fort in defence against his father and sister's attack, crouching behind the wall with his mother while they laughed so hard their sides hurt.

He could see where the four of them had laid down in the thick snow, spreading out their arms and legs and sweeping them back and forth, back and forth. Jess had deliberately laid down close to him so they could hit each other playfully.

He could see where he and Jess had made their snowman (although they called it a snow ghost), carefully picking through the undergrowth to find the perfect stones that were just right for the features.

He could see all of that when he saw snow, and eventually he had stopped looking.

But then Y/n had come along, bright and burning, and when she had experienced her first snowfall at 35 Portland Row she had shrieked with joy. Within moments she had shrugged on her thick coat and boots, hat haphazardly shoved on her head and gloves neglected as she shot out the front door, and the other members of the agency were left behind to wonder what on earth was happening.

The other three were quick to follow, leaving Lockwood inside to watch from behind the glass barrier, and for the first time in years he looked outside and saw the snow.

He also saw Y/n fall on her ass incredibly dramatically, and immediately good memories were being created again.

It took him another year to actually go outside in the snow again, and by this point he was deeply entrenched in the hating game that he had with Y/n that he used his excuse of wanting to see her fall over.

He didn't admit to himself for a while that the real reason he was in the cold with her was to make sure that she didn't fall over too hard, or get knocked over by a car that hadn't realised anyone would be on the road (really, why couldn't she have gone in the back garden?), or even because being outside when she was this happy was making him forget that he couldn't feel various parts of his body due to the biting air.

So hearing Steph say that she was going to have to drag Y/n, the girl who loved snow, outside into the snow, didn't make sense to Anthony. He glanced at Y/n where she was stood at his side and realised that she had told her family she didn't enjoy the snow, because there was nothing on her face that said she was confused like he was.

He really hoped they could leave this place soon, because while Y/n's parents and siblings were wonderful, her aunt (who had been sat in the corner sneering at the couple) and her cousin were not. The constant remarks about Y/n's body, how she acted, how she ate, her job, her life, what she enjoyed doing and what she didn't, it can't have been healthy for her to grow up with those comments, and apparently Y/n had been lying to them about herself to get some of it to stop. Anthony suddenly felt even more awful for the things that he had said over the years, and he dropped his head to meet the top of Y/n's to press a kiss there. She looked up in surprise, a question on her face, and he only shook his head and laced their hands together.

He wasn't going to hurt her again, not now that he had a chance with her. And if anyone else hurt her? Well, he would just have to ask which one of them was picking up the shovel, and who was taking the body bag.

~~~

After breakfast everybody wrapped up as warmly as they could and headed out into the snow. It really was insane how much snow they had had, given it was England and they were unused to the sort of snow they saw described in other parts of the world. Anthony had grabbed Y/n's hand after Stephanie tried to get there first, and when she had tried again to be the one accompanying Y/n outside he pulled her out the front door where John and Sam had started clearing a path.

"Ant, slow down! You're gonna pull my arm out of its socket!"

"You'll be fine. I'll give you CPR."

"Ant, you can't give me CPR to fix my arm not being attached to my body anymore."

"Oh. Well I might as well do it anyway, just in case it does help." He was tugged backwards when Y/n came to a stop behind him, and turning around he realised they had travelled quite far from the house.

"Anthony."

"Yes, my darling?"

"Do you just want to give me CPR because it gives you an excuse to kiss me?" He tried not to blush too hard at how quickly she had figured out his ulterior motive, but recovered just as fast with a smug smile.

"I don't need an excuse, darling. I just need to know you consent." She pushed forward, hand still linked with his, and planted a kiss on his mouth.

"Unless I physically assault you, Anthony, then consider me always consenting to you kissing me."

"Perfect."

He kissed her again, trying not to smile too much since it stopped them from kissing more, and wrapped both arms around her waist. She was smiling too, her cold nose pressing into his, and she let out a joyful shriek when he suddenly bent slightly and picked her up off the ground, twirling her while not ever taking his lips off of hers. When he finally put her down again he sighed in content, resting his forehead against hers and just revelling in the knowledge that they had worked through it all, and he was happy.

Then a snowball hit them square in the face, and he was spluttering while Y/n looked for the source.

"That's enough kissing, love birds! You can do that later!"

"Will." Y/n's eyes narrowed and the smile on her face was downright wolfish, and Anthony desperately hoped that she considered him a team mate or he was going to get pulverised.

"Darling, can I just ask, is it the two of us against your brother?"

"It's the two of us against them all, Ant." He knew she meant all of her family, but he couldn't help but think that she meant that it was the two of them together against the world, too. "Oh! You've never had a snowball fight with us before, have you? Basically instead of a kill-or-be-killed scenario, we combine it with capture the flag. Nana Jean has a collection of items that she gives each team, and you have two hours to build a fort and any defences you want. Then when Nana Jean says go, you've gotta get all the items in your fort, and then get all the way to Nana Jean on the front porch. It's very important that you get all the items in the fort first, because otherwise you get accused of cheating and get disqualified. Ultimately, though, nobody can trust anybody, but everyone always tries to get Steph and Linda because nobody likes them."

"So... if we can't trust anyone...?" He left the rest of his question in the air, but luckily she knew what he meant.

"Don't worry, I'll pair with you. Normally I'm with Olivia, 'cause we're meant to be in pairs, but my brothers never care about that rule. Mum'll throw at anyone, and so will Dad, my grandparents are on the porch watching from their chairs, so they'll get some good photos I imagine, Olivia is far too busy trying to look good all the time, and we need to duck!" She grabbed the front of his coat and yanked him towards the ground just as a large chunk of snow sailed through the air where their heads had just been. "Right. We need to start making some sort of defence, which shouldn't be too difficult because of how much snow there is, and then we need to start making weapons, because Nana Jean has obviously just started the timer for two hours building. Sabotage is also allowed during this time." It was both terrifying and weirdly attractive how quickly she was getting into the spirit of an all-out snow war, and within seconds Anthony found himself being put to work building walls.

He had done a similar thing with his family.

London never really had that much snow on the ground at any one time because of all the people and cars that needed to move around, and since agents still had to go out at night the roads and pathways were mostly clear to prevent any unnecessary deaths or accidents. One year, though, there had been too much snow for people to shift enough of it in one day ready for the night, and weather officials had said that temperatures would be rising anyway and the snow would melt in a couple of days. Anthony's parents had woken him early (back when he slept without an issue) and pointed out his window at the snow, and he had been so excited he had gone and jumped on Jess' bed, not caring when she swatted at him with a pillow. The four of them had then spent the day building forts in the back garden and getting their defences ready, and he and his mother had tried planning their walls strategically for the best possible advantage.

"You can't just put it all on top like that, you need to build it a bit like an igloo, or a mud hut. And make sure you've got the proper dense snow, not this superficial flaky stuff. Add some sticks and rocks and things for a bit of integrity, and pack the snow around it. That's it!"

His parents had taken fort building seriously, no matter what the material they were using was. Pillow forts were always complex too, but when finished Anthony had a castle to be king of.

"What are you doing?" Y/n asked, pulling him out of his memories. He'd been crouched down behind a bench that was in their front garden, clumping bits of undergrowth together and starting to build up the walls.

"You need to add sticks and rocks and things for integrity," he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Oh. That makes sense I guess. Can you-" she stopped herself for a moment to hurl a hastily made snowball at someone, and Anthony made a mental note to get her to teach George how to throw when he heard a yelp from somewhere in the garden and a cheer from Y/n. "Sorry, needed to get John. Can you like, show me what you're doing? Then we can both do it and get these walls up faster. I really think it's unfair that Will, John and Sam always team up because they all play fucking rugby, so their walls are basically done already."

"True, but we fight ghosts, darling. We know better than anyone how to win a fight, because if we lose, we quite literally die. Here, take some of this," he said, placing some of the stones he had found in her outstretched hands. "Stack them up a little bit, like I've done, yeah, that's good. Then take a whole load of snow and pack it around. It makes it a lot stronger."

"Where did you even learn how to do this? You literally never join in when we have snowball fights back home." His hands slipped when he realised that she had called Portland Row home, but he quickly recovered.

"My mother."

"Oh. Ant, I'm-"

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry. It's... it's nice, actually. Remembering her. Sad, because she's gone, but nice." He could feel Y/n watching him and he cleared his throat. "I don't know if you were in London when we had that last big snowstorm, but there was about this much of it. My parents took me and Jess outside all day and we built forts in the back garden, and then had a snowball fight. It was me and Mum against Jess and Dad. We won, of course. Mum had a really good throwing arm and Jess was complaining about the cold." He smiled at the memory of his sister's squeals when he had snuck up behind her and stuck snow down the back of her coat, running away with a gleeful laugh. An idea struck him then, and he sat up a little. "I've just had a brilliant idea on how we can piss off Steph," he said, and Y/n mirrored the shark-like smile he had on his face.

~~~

Around an hour later, pretty much everybody's forts were complete.

Will, John and Sam had taken Tom into their team (to which Y/n had complained further, since it was meant to be a pairs team situation) and their fort was huge, with walls that took up an entire corner of the garden. Steph and Linda had a pathetic looking fort since neither of them wanted cold hands or to touch the snow, but it was good enough to provide a small amount of protection for now. Emma and Ben's fort was surprisingly decent, and they had added a little turret on one side just for fun.

Then there was Anthony and Y/n's.

"What is that meant to be?" Sam shouted at them, his tone mocking. Taunts were always called out at this stage, Y/n had told Anthony, since everybody had made their defences and weapons and now they were just waiting on Nana Jean to say when they could start. "It looks like a mud hut!" John yelled, clearly thinking that they would be an easy target.

"Good," Anthony muttered, smile decorating his face. "Mud huts are weirdly strong if you build them right."

"You are so random," Y/n said, but she was looking at him with stars in her eyes. "George I would have expected this kind of knowledge, but you? Never would have guessed you knew this much about mud huts."

"My parents studied them, Y/n/n. Of course I know this much about mud huts."

"So random," she whispered under her breath, looking back out at the playing field. Each of the four teams had taken a corner (Olivia had chosen to side with her parents after they threatened to take away her tv privileges if she didn't join in), and Anthony and Y/n were in the opposite corner to The Brothers Grim (he had named them that in his head). The Bitches (Steph and Linda) were on their right, and The In-Laws (Emma, Ben, and Olivia) were on their left. That meant that they, The Love Birds, were most likely going to get attacked last. Everybody was going to be aiming for The Brothers Grim or The Bitches, since they were the strongest team and the most horrible team respectively, and Anthony and Y/n had come up with a plan.

"Are the names really necessary though?"

"What do you mean?!" He did his best to look appalled. "Of course the names are necessary, darling! How else are we meant to quickly and effectively communicate which fort we're going for?!"

"You're ridiculous, Anthony Lockwood."

"We've covered this already, Y/n L/n. I'm very aware of how ridiculous I am."

"I mean, what kind of person pretends they're a whale when drinking orange juice?"

"Yeah, but that only works if you have the orange juice with the bits in it, because then you can filter it through your teeth and-" She had cut him off with a kiss again, and while he had been in the middle of a very important explanation, he didn't mind that this was how he was being cut off. "You really need to stop interrupting me like that, darling," he said after she pulled back, but he didn't mean it. She knew that he didn't mean it either, because she was smiling softly up at him in the brief silence that they had before the fight started.

"Go over the plan one more time?" she asked.

"Sure."

~~~

Nana Jean had taken her place on the front steps, wrapped up in about ten blankets as she sat on her chair next to Gramps.

Y/n was tense, a pit of nerves forming in her stomach as she crouched next to Anthony. Their plan was supposedly foolproof, but they only had her knowledge of previous snowball fights with her family to discern what the other teams would try and do, and they could always have new tactics. The one thing they could rely on, however, was everybody attacking Steph and Linda first.

Each team had been randomly allocated an item from Nana Jean's collection, and had placed it in their fort. Their job then was to protect it at all costs, and not let it reach any of the other forts. Once in a fort, provided the thief didn't have all four items, they could be taken back along with any other items in the fort.

The Brothers Grim seemed to have the advantage, what with their huge walls and numbers, but Anthony and Y/n had spent most of their lives fighting far more threatening opponents in far more dire situations, and so this would be a breeze. With her knowledge of how her family fought (extremely dirty) and Anthony's weird knack for planning intricate extractions of items, they were sure to win.

They would even end up with time to spare to get under Steph's skin.

"Ready?" Nana Jean called out, receiving multiple affirmations in reply. "Three!"

Anthony shifted beside her, and she got ready to move.

"Two!"

The pit of nerves was filled to the brim, spilling over and making her limbs shake.

"One!"

Anthony's face was set in determination, and his eyes were flicking over the playing field as he waited. She was sure that she was doing the same.

"GO!"

Immediately action brought the front garden to life, with people running everywhere and snowballs flying to and fro, mostly missing but occasionally finding their marks. Anthony had already shot off while Y/n stayed behind with their item: Nana Jean's scarf that was too old and tattered for her to actually be kept warm by it anymore. She knew that Will would try and sneak around the back, and John would be left at their fort since he had the best aim and strongest throw. Sam would be the decoy, and Tom was just running around hitting everyone. Steph and Linda were getting annihilated, crouching down and shrieking loudly when snowballs from all directions took the top of their fort walls off. They had used the soft flaky snow instead of the proper solid stuff, and as such their fort wasn't much protection. That's what Anthony had said, anyway, and she decided that he knew what he was talking about. Y/n spotted her mother attempting to creep up behind her, and she chucked a snowball right at her face. It missed, hitting her shoulder instead, but it was enough of a threat that her mother backed off for now.

Anthony had disappeared somehow, and while she searched for a while she couldn't spot his skinny beanpole frame anywhere. That was probably a good thing, she thought, because if she couldn't find him, then their first target definitely couldn't.

Olivia made for Y/n then, battle cry piercing the air, but before Y/n could even take aim her sister was taken down by someone else's snowball, quickly followed by a "YES! HA HA!" that told her it was Tom. She looked through the gap in the bench that Anthony had left while building their fort, and saw her youngest brother doing a victory lap of the field, getting hit by snowballs but carrying on anyway.

"Got it," Anthony said, making her jump and nearly hit him. "Woah! It's me!"

She did hit him then, hissing her response. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, darling, sorry. Got it though!" He smiled triumphantly, looking very proud of himself as he lifted up the woollen hat that had been the item belonging to The Brothers Grim.

"Excellent!" She planted a kiss on his frozen lips and he grinned even more widely as he put the hat down. "Did they see you?"

"Nope. I told you earlier, I'm like a ghost myself." He had said something to that effect earlier on, but she hadn't really been paying much attention because she was too busy thinking how gorgeous he was when he got excited. He was like a puppy, and she could practically see his tail wagging while he looked at her with those brown eyes.

"Yeah, you certainly look like one right now," she snorted. "I'm pretty sure you're the same colour as the snow."

"Oi, my ghostly complexion is going to win us this thing, alright? Anyway, it's your turn to go out. Here." He handed her the large rock that they had found, and kissed her on the cheek. "Go get 'em," he winked, and then she was off, leaving him to guard their fort while she made for her parents.

Unfortunately they saw her coming immediately, but purely because Tom was still running around like a headless chicken and had screamed "Y/N'S COMING! Y/N'S COMING!"

"Dammit, Tom," she muttered, frown on her face. She had hidden the rock in her coat pocket since it was the right size (She and Anthony had made sure they would fit properly), but she still had to get the large gloves from their fort. The stone didn't matter now, because they had seen her, so all she needed to do was snatch their item and get back without being brought down. Luckily the gloves were tied together, which meant she only needed to grab one and she could be off again. Her parents were already tiring, she could tell, but years of being an agent and building up the stamina needed to run away from Visitors all night meant that Y/n was only just getting started. She dodged the snowballs that were thrown her way, and slid behind The In-Laws' walls, taking part of it with her. "I'll take those, thanks!" she said, picking up the gloves and immediately running off again, trying to ignore the snow she could feel melting down her spine. "Here," she huffed when she got back to her own fort, nearly knocking Anthony over.

"Oh, perfect! You alright to stay here while I get the last one? Or did you wanna pause for a moment? I don't think The Brothers Grim have noticed their item is missing yet, but your parents are definitely going to start making their move on us soon."

"Just gimme a moment to catch my breath, and I'll be good to go." She had collapsed into his side, clutching her stomach and trying to control her breathing, and he wrapped his arms around her briefly.

"As much as I would love to stay like this all day, darling, I do also need to throw snow at your family because they're coming this way."

"Oh, yeah. Go for it," she replied, sitting up again. Anthony picked up a snowball in each hand and chucked them over their walls, and although Y/n couldn't see who it was she did hear an "oof!" a few seconds later. "I've still got the rock from The In-Laws attempt in my pocket, so I can go and get The Bitches' item if you wanna keep throwing? You're better at it than me 'cause I can only use one arm. The other one is shit at throwing."

"You sure?" he asked, picking up another snowball. She nodded. "Alright. You know what you're doing, yeah?"

"Yep. I'll see you in five, Schmoopie."

"Why are you calling me Schmoopie? That's my name for you!" he called after her, playful frown on his face. Her only response was laughter, which she quickly stifled as she hid behind the thick oak tree closest to Steph and Linda's fort. Their item was a snowshoe, although where Nana Jean had even found one of those was a mystery. The rock she had in her pocket wasn't really big enough, but if she covered it in a bit of snow then it would be good enough to fool them. Anthony's intricate extraction plan for getting all the items had been to use decoys after sneaking up on each fort, and so far their first target, The Brothers Grim, hadn't even noticed. They were too busy fighting off Olivia, who had turned slightly feral over the course of the fight, and Tom, who had apparently decided that no team was better than the team he had created for himself, and was throwing snow at everyone including himself. Y/n crept forward slightly to assess how long she had before either her cousin or her aunt turned around, but then snow started hitting their nearly-destroyed fort again and she knew that Anthony was working on the distraction for her. Tom started attacking Steph and Linda again too, and while her Dad had joined Olivia in attempting to break down the walls of The Brothers Grim's fort, their attack was weakening.

She needed to move fast.

Y/n made her move then, bending down to grab some snow in one hand, and readying the rock in her other, and headed in the direction of Steph and Linda's backs. They were too busy trying to remake their walls, which meant they had left their snowshoe unguarded behind them. She dropped the rock in the snow, then picked up the snowshoe, and in the next five seconds had shoved the snow in her other hand down the back of Steph's jacket and sprinted away. Her cousin's screams followed her the short distance back to her fort, and Anthony didn't need to ask how it had gone when he heard them. "All four items, safe and sound. Now we've just got to get to Nana Jean without them getting taken off us."

That was the hardest part, since Nana Jean was sat on the front porch nearly completely opposite them. They would have to cross the entire playing field and pass The Brothers Grim fort to get to her.

"Alright. You take these. You can't put them in your pockets, which is annoying, but otherwise we'll be disqualified for cheating. You ready?" she asked Anthony after loading his arms with the items. He nodded, fiery determination in his eyes.

"I'm ready. Remember the weak spots in their walls, yeah?"

"Yep." She had memorised the points that Anthony had pointed out to her earlier, and thanked his parents for showing him how to build excellent forts.

"Okay. Three, two, one, go!" They stood up from behind their walls and started running, Anthony's long legs carrying him across the field while Y/n periodically stooped to grab more snow and compact it into a good enough shape that she could throw it far. He nearly made it, and then Will appeared out of nowhere to take him down. Anthony twirled out the way (always the fancy one), and Will missed catching him by a hair's breadth, but now there was more of a distance between Anthony and Nana Jean.

"THEY'RE GONNA WIN!!!" Tom shouted, and suddenly all of Y/n's family members were closing in on her and Anthony with snowballs in their hands.

"RUN!" she screamed, begging her legs to respond. They were slightly numb from the cold now.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?!"

Nana Jean had her arms outstretched from where she sat on the porch, and Y/n was momentarily blinded by the flash of her Gramps' camera just inside the window. She threw what snow she could at both people and forts, picking out the points where Anthony had said were weakest and aiming, and sure enough within moments part of The Brothers Grim's fort had collapsed, and the brothers themselves were crying out in anger.

Time passed slowly and in a blur, and before she knew it Anthony was up the steps and shoving the items into Nana Jean's arms and collapsing at her feet, then letting out a small cry of pain when Y/n landed on top of him. "Did we do it?" she asked, expression wild as she tried to catch her breath. Anthony didn't say anything, his face not revealing anything.

Then he cracked a smile, and it was like the sun had come out. "We did it!"

"You did it, love," Nana Jean said from above them, looking fondly down at her granddaughter where she was lying on the floor.

Y/n immediately pushed herself up (that made Anthony make another "oof" since she had braced her full weight on his chest) and turned around, pointing at all her gathered family members who were stood looking sorry for themselves (apart from Tom, he was still running around and throwing himself in the snow) and shouting "HA! WE WIN, SUCKERS!"

~~~

"Thanks," Y/n said, gladly accepting the mug of tea that Anthony handed her. He smiled down at her, one of those soft secret smiles that he kept for the people he loved, and sat next to her on their loveseat.

She wasn't sure when she'd started calling it their loveseat, but that was what it was, she supposed. Nobody else sat on it apart from them, and now they were cosying up like they always did. She had slung her legs over his and made sure not to spill her tea while he adjusted.

"That's nice and warm," he said, holding it under his face to heat up his frozen features. Y/n hummed her agreement, sipping on her own tea.

Everyone was snacking on random bits of food from the still-extensive collection (despite how much had been eaten at the party), and Anthony had brought over a bowl of bits for the two of them to share. Despite the slight chill that still sat in her bones, she was warm, and as she watched Anthony converse with her Gramps she realised that it was him making her warm.

Not his body heat, although he was surprisingly warm for somebody who had been running around in the snow all day, but rather the feelings he was stirring up in her. He made her feel warm just by interacting with her family, just by allowing her Gramps to tell him jokes that the rest of them had all heard a million times, just by even being here with her. He hadn't needed to come with her, and in fact he had argued against it and compromised, saying if she couldn't find anyone then he would do it and be unhappy, and yet he had done it anyway with a smile on his face. She'd genuinely believed that he wouldn't come with her, or would go back on his word because he thought it would be funny to watch her suffer.

But he was here, cuddled up on a loveseat with her in her family's house, talking to her Gramps about trains or something (she suspected it was more her Gramps was talking at Anthony), and he was hers.

Steph hadn't stopped watching them like a hawk since the snowball fight, but Y/n couldn't find it in her to care because she was with Anthony, and they had achieved a sliver of revenge themselves earlier. Her cousin was rightfully pissed about having a bunch of snow chucked down her back, but then again she had spent her whole life making Y/n miserable so really she deserved it.

He was her home, she realised. Not this house, not even Portland Row, despite the fact that she regularly called it that. No, neither of those places were her home.

Anthony Lockwood was.

part 9

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

[gemini-sensei]

older!miguel x college!fem!reader where he’s got a kid about 4-6 and he needs a baby/housesitter so he hires reader. But one day he comes home fr whatever job you want him to have and hears the reader talking to her friend about how hot he is, her fantasies, and and how she would literally have his baby to give him a second kid. When he hears that, his breeding kink goes crazy. As a couple days goes by of him teasing her, he’s finally coming on to her and saying “i heard what you said to your friend” They literally fuck everywhere since the babys gone so they be as loud as they want. Shes LITERALLY begging, shaking, and crying for his cum inside her. 🤗

DILF!Miguel? Is that what I'm seeing?

Older!Single-Dad!Miguel Diaz x Babysitter!Uni!Reader

Chubby!Fem!Reader ○ dilf!Miguel? 👀 ○ I gave Miguel's son a name, hope you don't mind

I love this and it got so much longer than I thought it would tbh lol.

a/n: I don't speak Spanish and I don't trust Google Translate, but I firmly stick by the idea that Miguel speaks Spanish during sex, so fill in the blanks with some sexy Spanish ;)

"I'll have to show you a picture of him because I can't describe how hot he is... No, I'm telling you, he's really hot. He's one of those super fit, sexy dads. He teaches karate part tike at his old dojo and stuff."

Reader giggles as she talks on the phone, likely to one of her friends, but Miguel couldn't be sure. He's just walked in through the garage instead of the front door, but it seems he's walked in on a private conversation between his babysitter and her friend. He sees Reader sitting pretty on his couch, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she paints her nails, and can't help but listen in as he stays in the foyer.

"It's not dorky. I've seen some of his moves and it's really hot... I'd let him teach me some karate if it meant he'd pin me to a mat," Reader giggles. She stop everything as her cheeks warm up and she smiles hard. "Hell yeah, I'd let him fuck me. Fuck, I'd give him another baby..."

Miguel has to stop himself from walking in there, biting back a groan as he felt something deep inside of him stir. It had been a while since he'd actually been with someone, his son having become his number one priority. He had not dated anyone in a while, though some people caught his eye. However, hearing his babysitter say such things about him makes him want to walk in there and tear her clothes off.

She's a beautiful girl, curvaceous and plump. She has fat in all the right places, pretty hips that look so easy to grab, big tits that she hid in her college hoodie along with a soft belly, thick thighs that he wants wrapped around him as he fucks her. He loves when she arrives in tight shorts and a hoodie, hips and thighs on display. When she bends over to pick up his son, he can't help noticing her ass and how it must jiggle when slapped.

He'd be lying if he said this was the first time he's thought about how gorgeous she is, but he's never let those thoughts run rampant before. After all, she's his babysitter, she's in celloege. She shouldn't want a man like him, but his hunger for her is ignited and all those thoughts of her not wanting him go out the window. He won't worry with them anymore.

○●○

Over the course of a few days, Miguel makes it a point to work from home. He has Reader coming around to mind his son while he works, but took long breaks often so he'd have time away from work. He plays with his son, of course, but he also plays with Reader. He wore tight shirt that showed off his arms; sometime he catches her staring while she was tidying up some toys. When she's in the kitchen getting snacks ready, he walks by her and let's his hand slid over her voluptuous ass. She never says anything about it and he gives it a firm squeeze one day as he passes her. While his son naps, they have little chats over drinks. Nothing too fancy, just tea or coffee depending on the tike of day. He learns more about her beyond what he already knew, beyond her college courses and the surface level things. He makes her laugh and blush, making sure to show her he's interested in her before he makes his move. The more time he spends around her, the more he falls for her, especially when she talks about how sweet and funny his little boy is. He practically stares at her with hearts in his eyes as she beams and tells him about how well his boy is doing learning his ABCs.

"Damián wanted to watch this documentary on sharks and I was worried it would be a little to much for him. I didn't know if it was going to be graphic, but we watched it together and it wasn't. He loved it and when we went to the library the next day, because I had to pick up a book for one of my classes, all he wanted were books about sharks. I think we cleaned out the library of all their shark books," she laughs as she tells him about her week. He smiles, admiring the gleam in her eyes and the giddiness in her voice. "He made me read him one as a bedtime story."

Miguel chuckles, deep from his chest. She's so cute when she's telling him such things, though it only adds fuel to the fire burning him up inside. "That explains all the books scattered across his bedroom then."

Her smile drops and she stares at him wide eyed and pretty. "I'll get that eaned up soon. It's just so hard to pick up after him sometimes. He loves to strough all of his toys across the room sometimes."

He laughs again. "Most four year olds do. Don't worry about cleaning up after him, it's about time he starts learning to put his toys away when he's done playing with them, though I can't help thinking part of the problem may be that's he's lonely..."

"Lonely?" she asks softly.

He hums and nods. "Sometimes I wish I could give him a little.brother or sister to play with."

Reader smiles at him kindly. "What's stopping you? Surely there are pretty women throwing themselves at a guy like you all the time? None of them catching you eye?"

"No," he tells her with a shake of his head. "I've had my eyes set on someone, actually, but it wasn't until recently that I found out they feel the same. I mean, I'm attracted to her, and I think I can really fall for her. I just hope she wants to fall in love, too."

"Oh really?" Reader asks, ears perking up at the mention of a love interest. Her heart sinks, thinking it mustn't be her. She's just a babysitter, someone who comes when he's not around, minds the house while he's away. "I bet if she finds you so attractive, she'll more than likely fall in love."

He smirks, getting the impression she thinks the same of herself. The conversation stops there as a little timer goes off and Reader stands from her seat. She walks into the kitchen to pull something from the oven and Miguel watches her until she turns the corner, then stands to follow.

Only when she's put the hot pan down does he come up behind her. However, this time he doesn't just graze his hand over her ass. No, instead he stands right behind her and gently puts his hands on her hips. She jumps as he makes her presence known and looks up at him over her shoulder. "Mr. Diaz-"

"You know, I heard your little conversation the other day," he mumbles, looking down at her lustfully. He presses his hard on again her ass and she lets out a small, shocked squeak. "The one where you were telling your little friend about how sexy I am."

"You- you heard that?" she asks, cheeks growing warm as she looks away from him. She's a little embarrassed that he overheard such a conversation. One where she gushed about how attractive he is and even fully admitted to wanting to bear his next- "Oh."

"Oh," he repeats back and slides his hands up her waist, feeling up her curves. Of course she can say no at any time and he'll stop, but as she melts into his touch and leans back into his chest, he gets the impression she doesn't want him to. "You're not too bad on the eyes yourself."

He gropes her belly and rolls, mapping out every inch of her he touches. Every curve, every roll, every little detail he can find. He slips a hand up her shirt and rests it against her lower abdomen, thinking about what she'll look like plump and round with his baby.

He grunts. "You have a perfect, strong body. Wide hips, pretty thighs, fat tits, and this soft pouch of belly..."

She whines softly, eyes closed as he touches her. The feeling of his hands on her makes her burn from the inside out and she wants him to touch her everywhere. "Please..."

"Please what?" he asks her, searching for her consent.

She looks up at him. "Please, Mr. Diaz, I want you."

He chuckles, cock throbbing against her fat ass. "You can have me, just don't call me Mr. Diaz."

She smiles and turns to face him, his hands gripping her tightly and pulling her close. Her hands brace on his chest and she leans up to kiss him, smashing their lips together in a heated and needy union. It's quick and hot, so she can pull away and say, "Whatever you want, Miguel."

He pulls her in for another kiss, this one longer and steamier. He starts undressing, having little care for the fact that their clothes are on the kitchen floor, no one else is around to find them. They're alone, his son away to spend time with Uncle Robby and his kids. So, he leads Reader to the island, never breaking their kiss until he turns her around and bends her over the countertop.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he tells her, voice low and deep. He pulls her pants down along with her panties and let them pool around her ankles, his fingers finding her fat, wet cunt moments later. He teases her for a moment before shoving two fingers into her tight hole, scissoring them to stretch her out in preparation for his cock.

Reader moans, holding onto the edge of the counter because it's all she can manage. Her pussy gets wet as he plays with her, opening her up for him. "I-I feel the same way."

Miguel smirks, feeling her arousal drip down his hand. He fingers her for a while longer before pulling away from her to undo his belt. He only shoves his pants and boxers down far enough to free his cock and brings the tip to her folds. She whines as he teases her, pushing the tip in and out of her until she can't take it anymore, which doesn't take long.

"Please, Miguel," she moans, looking at him over her shoulder. "Please fuck me. I need you so bad."

"I will, don't worry," he grunts, taking hold of her hip in one hand as he pushes the tip in again. She bites her lip and as he sinks into her before screaming with pleasure as he buries the full length of his cock into her. Once he bottoms out, leans over her and lets out a loud groan in her ear. "You told your little roommate you'd have my baby... that still true, hermosa?"

Shivers run up her spine and her cunt clenching around him. She nods, turning her head to look at him again, eye half-lidded in lust and pleasure. "Yes."

He mutters in something in Spanish and draws back, only to quickly rut back into her. The force of his thrust pushes her hips into the edge of the counter and she moans at the pressure of being sandwiched between him and the island. He drops his head and starts kissing her neck, making sure to leave a hickey and mark her up so people know she's his now.

She was in pure bliss as he fucked her, the thrill of it making her hot all over. It was her wildest dream come true, all their back and forth little flirting over the last few days finally worth something. She wasn't even embarrassed anymore that he had overheard her little phone conversation; it was clearly worth it. He knew what he was doing, one hand holding her waist and pulling her into his hard thrusts whilst the other toyed with her clit. She moaned loudly, but every time she said his name he made a particularly rough thrust into her that hit deep and hit a special spot inside her.

As he neared close to his orgasm, he rubbed at her clit faster. "Fuck, gonna fill you up. You're gonna give me another baby, right? Let me breed this tight, young pussy? Let me fuck you again and again until I've put a baby in you?"

"Yes! Yes, please!" she whines, feeling her end nearing. She tries pushing herself back into him, but he wraps and arm around her and pulls her up. She braces herself on the counter, leaning on her hands as he hold her around the waist and plays with her clit. "Oh God! Miguel! Miguel! I'm coming! Oh my god!"

"Do it, come on my cock so I can come in you! Come on my cock!" he grunts. His thrusts begin to slip into uneven ruts and his has a tight grip on her, seeking out his high as her walls squeeze around him.

She cries out as she comes and he lets out a string of curses as he feels her gummy walls constrict around him. He brings his hand up to her face to turn toward him and kisses her passionately, still fucking into her as she comes. She creams on his cock and it leaks down his shaft, making a mess of them as he pushes himself to the end. He comes not long after her and slams into her, ensuring he comes deep in her cunt as she milks him for every drop he can give her. They moan into each other's mouths, never parting as they experience their highs together. Her body begins to relax and he holds her close to him, letting her rest against his chest.

He finally pulls away from her when the need for air burns. He pants hard as he drops his head onto her shoulder, letting out her name in huffing breaths. When his orgasm subsides, he slowly pulls out of her. Their mixed cum leaks down her thighs, but it's the least of his worries as he turns her to face him. He's quick to pull her into another deep, heavy kiss before he's fully caught his breath and she throws her arms around him, holding him close.

The next time he pulls away from her, it's barely at all, and he grunts out, "Want you to hole onto me." He slips his hands behind her thighs and she understands, quickly making work to kicks off her pants. He does the same before she jumps and he wraps her legs around his waist. She starts kissing along his jaw as he carries her to the living room, planning to breed her on the couch next.

He has big plans for them the rest of the night, making sure she has his next baby.

[jellybeanium124]

Ok something I've literally never seen anybody talk about ever is the fact that Izzy apologizes for his little "insane, unpleasant, shell of a man" speech in episode 4.

To quote: "I said some things I regret last night. I don't think you're a shell of a man... or a twat."

Ed responds: "You were right man, about all of it." Imo the most common explanation for this line is buttering Izzy up to agree to his Stede-killing plan, which is something I agree with. Izzy turns and looks at Ed after he says this and Izzy gives him this look that tbh I can't fucking decipher.

Sad? Confused? Blank stare? ?????? idk

Anyways, what are the possible interpretations of that line? Let's start with the least charitable one and work our way to the most charitable interpretation.

Option 1: Izzy is lying and intentionally manipulating Ed.

I don't agree with this because like most people I agree that Izzy does a lot of things without understanding the consequences/implications. To agree to this option you have to think that Izzy has intentionally been abusing Ed for however long they've been working together, and imo Izzy isn't doing that on purpose here. I think he isn't doing that most of the series. At this point in the show things haven't gotten serious enough. Also he's not that smart and doesn't tend to think about things in the long-term, and to imply Izzy has been playing the long con for years abusing and manipulating Ed on purpose is just something I have trouble agreeing with.

Option 2: Izzy is lying, but just so he and Ed don't part ways on a bad note.

Izzy is trying to leave when he says this. Is he just trying to make sure Ed doesn't hate him after this? Ed's kind of an important connection in the pirate world, and Izzy could just be trying not to burn that bridge with the most powerful pirate. (and also he doesn't want Ed to hate him, I think, for some very repressed reasons.) I think this is a plausible interpretation. However, as I've posted about a loooong time ago, Izzy isn't a big liar. He tends to be weirdly truthful about his own emotions, with some exceptions (lying to Stede so Stede can die "doing what he loves).

Option 3: Izzy is telling the truth and means what he says.

Oh man. Dude. The implications of this one. The way Izzy hurts Ed over and over and doesn't even fucking realize it man. The way Ed acts when Izzy gives his little speech implies that this has happened over and over again and ed hardly notices it anymore (until the decade of repetition gets the better of him in episode 10). Izzy loses his cool and apologizes. Izzy loses his cool and apologizes. Izzy loses his cool and apologizes. Over and over and over. And if he's being honest, what does that even mean for Izzy? We know he cares about Blackbeard. How much does he care about Ed? Is there a difference between Izzy in episodes 4 and 10? I think there might be.

By episode 10, Izzy has doubled down over and over and over. He succeeded in getting rid of Stede, and Ed is, to him, behaving more differently/"weird" (bad, soft, effeminate) than ever. In episode 10, Izzy goes after Ed's clothes. He doesn't make a remark about Ed wearing Stede's clothes once in episode 4. Would episode 4 Izzy bully Ed into being the Kraken? I don't think so. I think it takes all his successive loses throughout the series building on each other to get to that point. In episode 4, Izzy is, at the very least, trying not to end his relationship with Ed on a sour note. In episode 6, in his mind, it has totally ended on a sour note and he has a vendetta against the man who stole his man.

I guess this post is part of my ongoing impromptu exploration of early-series Izzy and why I think he's fucking fascinating. Because early on we see more of an Izzy who, while of course still being an asshole, is a little more human. He's having fun in the woods with Stede. He's apologizing like a grown up to Ed. Starting in episode 5, he gets crueler, targeting Lucius because he's the most effeminate person on board besides Stede (with his most human moment in that episode being his perplexed and strangled "fuck off" at Lucius's come-on). In episode 6 he says "I'm good thanks" (or something like that) to Stede offering a draw and tries to kill him. By episode 8 he's bringing the ocean cops to Stede and Ed's doorstep. And of course, in episode 10, he's verbally attacking Ed and threatening him with murder unless he becomes Izzy's version of Blackbeard. Strangely enough, at the end of episode 10, we have another human moment. Izzy seems very conflicted just underneath the surface after the toe scene. The way Con's acting in that scene makes it seem like Izzy is just barely repressing "oh God what have I done oh fuck oh shit I'm in over my head fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck."

Well... like a lot of my metas (can this be called that???) this has been a stream of consciousness.... thing.... that I don't know how to conclude. I guess I'll say I lean more towards option 3 but if you read it as option 2 that's valid, but I don't think it's option 1. I also can't wait to see what this bizarre little man gets up to very soon. What a guy.

[barkspawn]

lol then can we get "i love you, no matter what that means to you, i'm going to take care of you, even if you dont want me to" prompt from the romantic quotes prompt list with elliott? <3 i love your writing

Thank you, I'll never get used to the fact that people like my stuff. it's wild.

and tbh, I'm realizing the things I enjoy writing the most, which is suuuuuuuuuuuper helpful. so thank YOU and the others who send in prompts.

Amelia had been struggling for the past few weeks. Her depression took a turn for the worse when she heard of her father falling ill and after receiving a spiteful email from an old "friend" explaining how selfish and idiotic she was for leaving the city. It was hurtful enough to wear her down. 

Amelia was keeping up with the crops okay and was trying extra hard to make the animals happy. She knew he was picking on her, but when Shane visited with a new chick and made a comment about how the crops seemed small and dinky, she felt herself hit a low. She knew he'd feel horrible if he knew, so she decided not to tell him. 

Elliott was an entirely different situation. They'd been together for a year and a half and she couldn't stomach letting him see her like this. He knew something was wrong right away and decided to give her space for a few days, deciding today to be a little more persistent. 

Amelia looked down at her phone as it rang. She sat on the couch with her knees drawn to her chest, just staring at the rustic painting on the wall in thought. The third time the phone started to ring she sighed, answering the call. 

"Hello?" She winced, not even recognizing her own voice. 

"Hey, love," Elliott started, trying to keep his tone as normal as possible, even if he was sick with worry, "I've missed you. I was thinking I'll bring some food to you this evening. We'll curl up and watch a movie."

The idea seemed nice to her, but she genuinely believed it wasn't what she deserved. Before thinking, she spoke, "Actually, I wanted to talk to you, El. Can you come by soon?"

He paused for a long moment before answering, "of course. I'll leave now. I love you."

"I love you too," she responded too quickly, hanging up and letting tears fall as a sob escaped her. This is how it had to be. 

Elliot was a brilliant man with a bright and happy future ahead of him. She could not let herself be the one responsible for holding him back. It wouldn't be fair. She loved him with her whole being, which is why she had to stop this. He deserved so much more. 

After a moment, she stood to clean herself up, pacing until she heard his footsteps on the porch. He gave a light knock before opening the door, his smile brightening up the entire room. He looked as handsome as ever, a small container that could only be from the saloon in his hands. His smile and his general presence lifted her spirits a bit. For a moment, she wondered if this was a mistake. Quickly, she resolved that it needed to be done. It was for him, not her. 

Closing the door behind him, he set the food on the counter and moved to wrap his arms around her in a tight, loving hug that broke her heart. When she didn't hug him back, he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. 

"Amelia? What's on your mind?" He searched her face, not oblivious to her tear-stained eyes and cheeks. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

"Elliott, I don't think we should see each other anymore."

His hands fell from her shoulders as he looked over her face once more. Something was wrong and she wasn't okay. He knew that. Still, his heart ached. 

"I see," he responded after a long moment, "may I ask if it is something I've done or-"

"No, no, El," she interjected, tears unable to be stopped, "You've been perfect in every way.. I just can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending I'm right for you when I'm so clearly not."

He flinched at that, cursing his own eyes for going misty, "if that is what you want, Amelia, I will not fight you. I am never far.. should you need me for anything."

He made his way to the door before stepping through, the sob that came from behind the door ripping his heart to pieces more than her leaving him ever could. 

His chest tight and his eyes red, he turned back to town. 

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Elliott sat at the small fire outside of his shack, checking his phone for the millionth time before sighing and shoving it in his pocket. He poured the rest of the wine into his glass, noticing a dark figure at the end of the pier as he went to take a drink. When he focused, he saw it was Sebastian, sitting quietly on the edge. 

Elliott stood, glass in hand, and headed down the end of the pier to stand behind the younger man. 

"Sebastian, right?"

Sebastian looked up at him, sarcastic remark locked and loaded, but bit it back as he saw the man's face. Elliott was a little bit of a mess himself. Sebastian just nodded and stared back toward the ocean. 

"You.. you're Amelia's friend, aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah," Sebastian started, his expression twisted in confusion, "why, aren't you her boyfriend?"

Elliott looked down at his glass, tracing the rim, "as of this morning, no. I'm not."

Sebastian deflated, frowning as he moved aside for Elliott to sit. He really didn't care enough about Elliott in the equation, but about how Amelia was. They'd been best friends for a year and she was head over heels for this guy. 

"Sorry to hear, man," he stared ahead, his frown deeper still than usual. 

"Me too," Elliott started as he sat beside him, "I just.. I wanted to ask you," his voice was quiet, almost feeling guilty for asking, "have you spoken with her in the last few days?"

Sebastian turned to give the man a confused look before his expression softened, "yeah, I guess. She canceled plans we had and she said she wasn't feeling good. Why?"

Elliott pinched the bridge of his nose, "when I saw her today, it was like she was a different person," he started, voice still shaking, "she was cold and distant. But she looked like she hadn't been eating or something of the like," he paused again, turning to look at the other man, "I'm worried about her."

Sebastian's brow knit together as he stared, deep in thought, "and, if you're cool with telling me, what did she say?"

"She said she couldn't do it anymore. She told me it wasn't me and that I was great.. she said she wasn't right for me."

Sebastian sat and thought for a long moment, frowning before he sighed, "I know her dad is sick," Elliott nodded, his frown growing deeper, "and she got this letter from an old friend. She wouldn't tell me more.." Elliott sighed as Sebastian turned to look at him, "did she seem depressed? Like what you see in those shitty commercials, but real and not forced?"

Elliott thought for a long moment. He thought about every word she said, how she seemed so tired and thin, and how she looked and sounded. 

"Yeah, it was a lot like that."

"There's your answer, dude," he pulled out his cigarettes, "I'll check on her later, but she adores you. She was talking about it last week ."

Somehow, Elliott felt worse hearing that. He gave a small nod, taking a long drink of his wine, frowning as the dregs swirled around the bottom of his glass.

"Is it an awful idea to reach out to her the day she left me?"

Sebastian nodded, taking a long drag of his cigarette, "I'll swing by tonight. I have your number and I'll text you how she is. Swing by in the morning and just… do your poetic… artistic… romantic shit."

Elliott gave a small chuckle before shifting to stand up, "thank you, Sebastian. I'm very glad to have gotten your insight."

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Elliott woke up earlier than he usually would have, gathering some different things to take with him to the farm. He created a care package of sorts, picking up her favorite hot tea, some ingredients for different meals he knew she loved, a pair of his most comfortable pajamas (as he couldn't go and buy her a new set before going over), and a journal. He had opened up to a few pages, writing little affirmations on some pages. 

He felt horrible for not recognizing how much she was suffering. He'd been there before, but not in a long time. Once he gathered everything, he sighed, heading toward the farm. 

As he made his way there, his confidence waned a bit as he grew closer. He hoped she wouldn't be mad at him for coming, but Sebastian's text made it pretty clear that Elliott coming over would help her, so it was the plan. He walked up the steps, taking his time before knocking lightly on the door. 

His heart dropped as he saw her open the door. She was exhausted and pale like she hadn't slept for days. 

"Elliott?" She started, her voice cracking. 

"May I come in?" He gestured to the bag he held with all of the stuff he had. She paused for a long moment before sighing and opening the door, allowing him to pass. 

"I'm not sure why you'd come," she frowned, her arms wrapping around herself, "I'm not your responsibility. You don't have to care anymore."

He gave her a gentle look as he placed the bag down before walking over to her, his voice quiet but firm, "Amelia, I can see you're struggling. Whether or not being with me is a part of you getting better, I love you, no matter what that means to you," he started, shifting to gesture to the bag, "I'm going to take care of you, even if you don't want me to. Because you should never be alone when you feel this way, no one should."

Her gaze fell to the floor as she failed to stop her tears from falling. After a long moment, she gave a small nod. 

"I'll never force it, but tell me if you should like a hug. Sometimes such a small– oof," he was cut off as she wrapped her arms around his waist almost too tightly. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back with as much emotion as he could show. He felt her shaking, like a string had snapped that was holding her up, leaving her a crying mess in his arms. His heart broke for her, but he was so glad he was here. 

They stayed like that for an incredibly long time before he pulled back to grab the pajamas from the bag and brought them to her.

"Go ahead and take a nice, hot shower. I'll make you some food. You can call me if you need me."

After a few hours, she had eaten, explained everything, and broke down once more in his arms. He just sat beside her, intently listening as she cried and spoke. She couldn't seem to look at him when she finished. 

"Amelia, that woman who sent that is no friend. She is simply jealous that you were able to escape and make a new life for yourself," he started, moving to take her hand but stopping himself, "and I'm so sorry about your father. If you'd like me to be, I'll be here every step of the way. If you want me to remain at a distance, Sebastian will definitely be here as well."

She wiped away a new wave of tears, letting herself lean into him once more, "I love you more than anything. I know it's not my place to say it, but I can't just not tell you how loved you truly are."

After a long moment, she stood on her toes and pressed a small, painfully gentle kiss to Elliott's lips. 

"I.. don't want to leave you, El..," she started, "I just can't stand the idea of holding you back or bringing you down.."

The small kiss gave him the push to take her hands in his, "you couldn't do either of those things if you tried. I'm right here if you still want me. And even if you don't, for that matter. I won't leave your side until I know that you're okay and happy. Now, would you like to watch a horrible movie?"

She cracked a small smile for the first time in days before pulling him into one more tight hug. 

"You deserve so much better than me, you know," she sighed, "I've always considered you out of my league, but-"

"None of that," he pulled back, hushing her, "you deserve the world and I intend on giving that to you, whether you believe me or not because I love you."

She stared up at him, her smile growing for the first time in days, "I love you, El," she shook her head, "thank you for not… giving up. It would have been the biggest mistake I'd ever made.."

"So you don't want to stop seeing me?" He couldn't help the hope in his voice, relaxing when she shook her head. He continued, "I'm happier to hear that than I can begin to show," he smiled and pulled back toward the couch, "now shall we watch shoddy animatronics try to fight each other?"

She laughed, the feeling almost unfamiliar, as she moved to curl up beside him on the couch with a blanket. 

This is where she belonged and she was endlessly glad he didn't give up on her. 

With people who care for her this much, how could she not see herself being okay?

She rest her head on his shoulder, laughing at the movie with her hand in his.

[oneirataxia-girl]

⇝ DRABBLE -- The Faeries In The Woods

this is the first piece of writing i've done in MONTHS, @ariparri the cardverse au has me in a chokehold and this is the product of annoyed & tired alvita doing everything she can to get her mind off schoolwork, ended up writing the first draft in one day (???! i am astonished by this too) and uh yeah, it's rough it's not my usual style but hey, my writing skills are basically the equivalent of sandpaper in terms of roughness so it's definitely going to be bad no matter what lol quick author's note before we get started though: for those who've known me since my hphm phase, you might recognize the "faeries in the woods" as the arcane-zheng family who i criminally ignored in favor of building the alvina/talbott ship (yes i am aware that it was a mistake), but while the basic setup of the fae family is still the same, they all have completely different names which i hope i'll be able to introduce to you guys in a later piece; this is more like "setting the vibe" word vomit than anything tbh. but hope you guys enjoy!!

You're a child, barely able to run without stumbling once or twice; you've met the kids on either side of your house and the ones a little further away too, and you've all got the thirst for information your parents say is natural for a Club to have.

The forest has been off limits ever since you remember, but that doesn't stop you from running with your playmates to the clearing barely a one-minute walk in the woods, nor does it prevent the answering frenzy your parents were in to get you back to the village.

"Don't ever go near the place!" Your papa yells at you, "If the fairies --"

Your mama makes a noise you can't understand, and Papa stops talking in favor of trapping you in a big bear hug. You giggle and wrap your own arms around him too, and you forget all about the silver stars staring at you from the edge of the clearing.

You're older now, knobbly knees decorated with scrapes and bruises from your frequent meetings with the stony ground; your friends are older too, and you all start to wonder why the forest is always shrouded in the dark, even when the sun shines high in the noon sky.

Ma cuffs you on the head for asking, but you keep at it, chipping away at her resolve and Pa's in search of an answer.

Eventually, Pa tells you that all will be revealed when you're eleven.

Eleven? You're barely half past the age of eight! It's going to be ages until you learn anything about the forest.

Pa and Ma are always telling you to fight in your chase for knowledge, and this is something to learn, no? So in order to find your explanations, you gather your best friends and pool your wits together to pursue the thing your family and kingdom puts so much importance on: answers.

Your merry troop marches on the pebble-lined path into the forest as soon as your best friend and a boy you don't like come up with a plan.

You come out of the forest drenched in red; some of it yours, most of it from the barely-breathing boy being rushed to the medical building.

You're not a kid anymore now, scrapes long faded into light scars; not all of your friends are older, and you wonder if the one that is gone was taken away by the faeries.

Faeries, not fairies, because you know now that the things lurking in the trees aren't sparkling-winged fairies ready to grant you a wish, but monsters with silver eyes and teeth stained crimson with the blood of their victims. Pa tells you this while Ma rolls up her left sleeve for the first time in your memory to show you the scars she got from the fae family -- probably the mother of the current set of spawn, she tells you.

"How do you know?" You ask her, leaning your head on her lap.

Ma lifts her arm, the raised skin of the healed wound darker than the rest of her skin, "No animal has claws that can do this kind of damage, Darling."

Your forehead wrinkles as you take in this information, and presently you ask whether it could be a weapon.

Pa shakes his head this time.

"If it was a person, they would've been found soon after they went into the forest," He tells you.

"Maybe they're very sneaky," You argue, "Or maybe they always get in and out from the Spades' side of the woods."

But even as you speak the words, you know that they were just that: words.

No human has stayed in the forest for over a day and survived. The longest surviving one was Ma, trapped in a bog for about sixteen hours on a forage for herbs.

Pa pulls aside later to tell you that when they found her, she was muttering about silver-eyed fae and how they gave her a "message to deliver."

She doesn't remember any of that.

You're tying your bootlaces by yourself now, mentally cataloging the plants you're supposed to provide to help make the prototype for a new distress signal; your friends have all grown up as well, some of them left the village for bigger things and some stayed behind with you, none of them are willing to go back to the forest without a weapon by their side anymore.

Can't fault them, you're the same, too.

The only stars you see are the ones in the night sky, fiery balls of gas that live light years away from the small village on this side of the Clubs-Spades border, and you're forcibly reminded of a time when silver stars plague your head.

You shake said head before you stand up to walk towards the academic buildings. The doctors said it'd get better in time, but sometimes you feel like it's only getting worse.

As you kick away stones in your trot, you bump into a girl -- short and thin, with a mane of dark hair that reaches her waist, she turns around and you take note of the dark shades hiding her eyes and the shaky step she takes to get away from you.

A green cape covers most of her top half and you frown when you notice that both the green fabric and the dark tights she wears are ripped. Did she run away from home? Why was she wearing dark glasses?

"Irene!" Comes a call, you turn to see a older guy with the same dark glasses stride towards the girl. His clothes were also worn, and you catch a few sympathetic glances thrown their way by some of your fellow villagers.

Not from the village, that much was clear. Maybe they were running away from Spades, you hear that they're in terrible turmoil and its people are leaving in whatever way possible.

All hearsay though, no evidence has ever come by to confirm this.

The guy throws an arm around the girl and you notice that he has the same twig-like frame, barely a head taller than the girl; he has the same messy hair though, and he barely spares you a glance before dragging his sister away.

You watch their backs retreat, and you notice that their feet don't make a sound on the gravel ground.

You shrug your shoulders and continue on your way, pebbles crunching underfoot as you walk.

Perhaps the refugee rumors are true after all.

You're finally allowed to drink in the open now, grin wide as you accept your first glass of beer from your ma and act as if you aren't used to the bitter taste linger after you swallow; your friends cheer and clap you on your back, even the ones that went to the big cities, for everyone still alive had come back to celebrate your birthday. You clink your glass with a shy smile at one of your best friends and tip your head back to chug the rest of the beer in one go.

Pa gives you a suspicious look. You try coughing to pretend that it didn't go down like water. It doesn't seem to work, but he only brings a finger to his lips and turns away.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Second, third, and fourth mugs of beer come and go; you toss jokes and barbs at your friends and shrug off their laughing sneers. Conversation flows like your drinks and it eventually follows dirt-strewn trails to the shadowy woods just a few steps from the village borders.

"You remember the faeries our parents used to scare us with?" One of your friend asks, cheeks ruddy from the alcohol.

They've come back from the city just for your birthday, so you bite your lip and stifle the urge to correct their mistake.

Another one of your friends does it for you, this one having lived in the house a five-minute walk from yours for their whole life; it sparks a debate whether there is anything in the forest other than the typical trees that make one lose all sense of direction and odd creatures.

Silver stars blink on the very edge of your vision. You turn around and see nothing but yellow light bathing your party. You turn back and ignore the feeling of something watching you.

Feelings -- such fickle things, you muse, making think there hid things when there are none. No wonder why your kingdom stresses the importance of logic and reasoning.

A fist punches your shoulder, it's your best friend, smile as lopsided as the day you two met, "What do you think? You reckon faeries live there?"

The rest of the chatter dies, eyes waiting for your answer expectantly.

Licking your lips, you hesitate to give an answer. You still recall the silver stars bursting in your head and the wails of your friends, but they seem sharper than they should be, and the stars now just seem like normal migraine-induced sights.

The window allows you to look out at the forest. It's as dark and gloomy as always, not a lick of life shakes its leaves.

Then, your mug crashes onto the floor.

Three -- no, four -- figures emerge from the depths of the woods, three of them with silver stars for eyes; the last one to emerge stands still while the six silver stars blink in unison, the only one to have the faint outline of their silhouette be the only thing separating them from the night.

You hear an exhale close to your ear and you realize that everyone has piled up behind you. It's your ma, she has a hand on your shoulder and you spot the scars running down her arm when your turn your head to look at her.

Her grip on your shoulder tightens and her face goes pale. Whirling your head back to the clear glass, you see six silver eyes pointing directly at you.

A drum starts pounding in your head, so you close your eyes for a fraction of a second to shush it. You open your eyes to meet a sea of black outside your window.

Nothing was left of the four creatures, not even a crunch of a footstep.

A beat.

"What," Someone finally says, "Was that?"

You want to say it was the faeries, but those are anything but fae.

You're woken up by the sound of shouting now, and you leap out of bed when the iron tang of blood assaults your nose.

Bootlaces untied, you run out to carnage: you think someone screams when you see Ma lying on the floor motionless, and you follow the direction of the scars on her arm to see Pa.

Their fingers just barely brush each others'.

Your throat burns a white-hot pain and you crumple to the floor and you crawl to the window to see bodies on the gravel ground. You slide down and close your eyes and beg for this to be just a beer-induced nightmare.

A resounding boom shakes your eardrums and your stomach drops further when you register where the sound came from:

The distress signal. The one you helped to make.

Shouts turn to cries and whimpers and gasps, and then even those are cut off. You glance at Grandma's door and decide you don't want to open it.

Nothing disturbs the gravel path before the front gate squeaks open. You press yourself closer to the wall.

Moonlight bleeds into the room as the front door clicks open, you wonder whether you'll be able to make a run for it.

"Swear I could hear a heartbeat in here."

"Don't these --" You watch as someone seemingly nudges your ma's top half -- "have a kid? You two saw them before, right?"

You think you would remember seeing monsters with silver eyes --

oh.

You did see them before, they just weren't dumb enough to show their eyes.

A cry leaves you as the collar of your jacket yanks you up. Six silver eyes blink at you.

"Sorry," No flash of fangs glitter from the speaker's mouth, "Blame your friend for this."

You struggle and claw at the vice grip on your collar tightening.

You sputter as you suddenly drop to the ground. You think you see white lights and you wonder if you've joined your family as shouts grow near.

Something is shoved in your mouth and you want to wail as the bitter taste of the thing infects your mouth.

A blinding glare shoots through every opening your home has. The three creatures hiss and crouch down to escape the light. They start talking, and you work on getting the foul-tasting thing out of your mouth.

A growl jerks you from your endeavor. You see the smallest of the three standing.

"It's the only way." One of the other two states simply.

The small one scoffs and the light turns her dark hair into a rippling waterfall, "Don't tell me you think we can't take a couple more humans out."

The other speaker turns her head to look at you -- silver stars framed by wide eyes, no flash of teeth when she opens her mouth to say -- "There's only going to be more of them the longer we stay."

"So we should all go!"

"Too dangerous," It's the guy, the one who dragged his younger sister away that time you bumped into her. She's the one they're convincing to do something.

You don't catch the rest of the conversation, your eyes are getting heavier by the second, everything's gone out of focus...

The last thing you hear is a chilling howl, and the last thing you see is Ma offering her scarred arm for you to grab.

[dausy]

We had a crappy week I guess. I feel kinda guilty. Husbands current assignment was supposed to be finished last thursday and he was supposed to be home for a little bit. Took vacation from Aug1st-10th-(ish). Army told him no and extended his assignment another 2 months and cancelled his vacation. So he semi rage quit and came home early on Tuesday with the intention of the long 4 hour trek back to work today (Sunday). Unfortunately, I had already agreed to work last week. So he spent a lot of time pouting at home alone. I did leave work super early on Thursday and probably looked like a douche doing so. But I did tell my boss that my husband would be coming home that day so I wouldn't be able to stay all day anyway (before I knew he'd come home tuesday instead). I feel guilty I always have to balance work and husband and I'm mad at work for reasons and this is a primary reason. The good news is we only have a short time of this left. I'm not unsupportive, I just wasn't surprised this happened to him. In fact I knew it was going to happen and I'm sorry he's upset and theres nothing I can do to fix it.

We had some other minor daytrip plans for his original vacation dates but we can't do those anymore. We did drive down to Birmingham Alabama and he was in a poopy mood the whole time so I'm not even sure if it was worth it. The good news is the weather was really despite the weather radar saying 100% thunderstorms..we didn't see that. I'd never been to Birmingham before so I don't know what I was expecting it to look like. Looked a lot like Asheville NC tbh. I did find these twintone pastel markers. I'd seen these every day at all the stores and never got them because...whatm I going to use them for? now I have an obsession with decorative art pens and I want them and can't find them anymore! I found them and got them now. I also ordered another custom journal to test another companies products to see how I like them. I'm thinking spring next year I want to buy some products in bulk and try my own boothe at a farmers market..so I'm just testing products right now. I like the other ones that I got before better. But I like the paper in this one better. Either way, personally I plan on using this one for my self-taught spanish studies.

Anyway, I haven't been able to paint or even go to the gym all week. I've been out of the house or probably having not been sympathetic enough to my husbands plight..and I don't know what to do with him.

I am 1/3rd way done with another project I'm making a video on but its going to take me a while to finish it.

I have a little drawing I keep staring at. Its the best I got for painting but its anatomy is not what I wanted so I may work on it some. But I gotta go back to work this week also so...I'm being forced to do an overnight on call shift which is against the contract I have...so thats nice.

[nathank77]

4/6/24

6:04 p.m Added to/ Edited 6:24 p.m

So I took a half MG last night and passed out really quickly at like 7 a.m or so. I woke up at like 12 and took benadryl cause I had to pee. I ended up sleeping until 4 p.m...

I had dreams like I used to, where I woke up and went to the fridge and grabbed a drink. Then I grabbed a Think Protien Bar the Brownie one and I sat in bed. It was like 4:30 p.m. I really thought I was awake. This time I knew I slept though... maybe I'm healing a little from my microsleep trauma... idk...

I woke up at 4 p.m thinking wait wasn't it 4:30? Where is the brownie Protein bar? And I realized It was a dream.

Nonetheless I still keep a sleep tracker that has turned into a sleep tracker/every calorie I consume diet tracker/pill tracker/ and eventful things about that day tracker such as muscles spasms or heart palpitations.... it's really thorough... I know it helps me cope with the trauma of microsleeping and makes sure I don't forget important things.

Anyways I took a shower and now I'm going to set up my sleeping pill... then all I got to do is brush my teeth after my second meal...

Idk what to do with the rest of my day... maybe I'll game. Maybe I will stare mindlessly at my TV and not hallucinate.

I was thinking about streaming on Twitch some Minecraft or something but I know I won't have viewers... I wish someone would start a chat with me there......

I actually scheduled that account for deletion months ago bc I thought it was hacked, and my auditory hallucination convinced me to reactivate it... I wouldn't have but I'm glad it did. It said something like, you worked hard for those followers, you should keep it instead of making a new account. That's the one thing I'm thankful for from my voice auditory hallucination, it would have been gone if it didn't tell me to reactivate it within that time frame.

I've made a decision about my glasses wearing.. I'm going to wear them alone cause my sight is challenged and my eyes feel weak.... if I go out on a date, I'm going to take them off... if I do meet ups, I'm not going to wear them. I may not even wear them during my videos anymore....

I won't take selfies with them anymore... I'm going to redo my entire dating profiles without glasses once I can take good photos without them... tbh I like how I look with glasses.... so I take these photos and I'm like you'd look better with your glasses. That one is okay but where are your glasses... I got to get one thats good enough that the glasses don't need to be there and then get like 3 or 4 more.

I'll get contacts or adjust to what my vision is... I can't see myself touching my eyes to put contacts in..the weird part is I tried to take my glasses off on my bimoji but I looked naked.... my face looked so empty... much like my face in real life without them. When I first started wearing them, I mean I felt nerdy but I didn't care cause I could live life with and without them... then I got adjusted to seeing myself in them and now I look weird without them..

You can see the, "bags," or "black lines," under my eyes... I mean yet if I look at anyone else without them these things aren't noticeable..... I think once you start wearing glasses full-time, you just look weird without them...bc they draw your attention and change how your face looks.

I'm sure I'll adjust eventually... people can't see me in them. But why struggle to see or have weak eye sight when I'm alone in my room or in a dark car.

I'd also like to say if Elise were to show up on my stream as long as she doesn't open the chat box her name will never show up on my end.... ever. But if she were to click the chat box and never type a word, I would know she was there.

[metalbuckaroo]

hihi!! maybe “you’re lying to me again. why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?” + “you’ve changed” for roommate!bucky? or any bucky tbh!!

Maybe Tomorrow

Summary: "You gonna talk to me or are you gonna come up with another excuse?"

Warnings: lil angsty, lil fluffy, maybe implied smut, mention of alcohol, cursing

AU: Roommate!Bucky x Fem!Reader

AN: Prompt from this list

Requests and asks always open so feel free to send one or more in. Feedback and reblogs appreciated

MASTERLIST

Gif not mine

You opened the door to Bucky's room, going to the end of the bed to grab the blanket and jerk it off of him. "James, it's 3pm. Wake up." You sighed. He rolled onto his stomach and groaned in response.

Bucky had been acting different for nearly 2 weeks. Flaking out on movie nights and dinner with some piss poor excuse. In all the months he'd lived with you, he never passed up movie night or the chance to eat dinner with you.

You huffed out a breath and pinched the back of his thigh. "Hmm, go a little higher." He grumbled into the pillow he face was in. "I'm not touching your butt. I made you coffee, let's go."

"Please? I touch yours, it's only fair."

"I never asked you to. C'mon, Buck. You never sleep this late." You sigh, tickling the bottom of his foot lightly.

He rolled back over and sat up, palming at his nose. "Wanna go see the new movie tonight?" His jaw clenched at your question and he shook his head.

"No, uh, I've got plans with Steve tonight. Maybe tonorrow." He mumbled, reaching for a shirt that laid on the floor. You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head; yet another excuse that wasn't even true and made your teeth grit together.

You missed spending time with him. Although, he always got handsy during movies or annoyed you to play with his hair and scratch his back, it was always comforting to relax with him after a long day.

Bucky stood, pulling the shirt on as he turned to face you, seeing your aggravated expression. "What?" He chuckled, lightly. "Steve is out of town. You're lying to me, again. Why can't you just tell me the truth for once?"

He shrugged and turned towards the door. "Don't know what you're talkin' about." He said as he walked down the hallway. "James, stop avoiding me." You huffed, following him to the kitchen.

"Oh, no. The first name. I've done something." He joked, opening a cabinet. "You've changed. You don't kiss my cheek in the mornings anymore, you're sleeping until the afternoon. Something is up."

"I've been... busy." He shrugged, not turning to look at you. "You skipped on Sunday morning Garfield. You watch it with me every Sunday."

Bucky breathed a dry laugh and shook his head, finally turning to look at you. "One time. I skip one thing, one time and all of a sudden, I've changed?" His eyebrows knitted together and he crossed his arms over his chest.

You glared at him, he couldn't be so oblivious to not notice that you weren't believing him anymore. "More than one thing, James. You make every excuse you can to not be around me anymore. You're skipping everything we usually do together!"

You watched his jaw flex as he clenched his teeth together before his words came bubbling out. "How about you skipping over where you had your tongue down my throat?! Huh!? Don't wanna talk about that, now do you?" He snapped, his icy stare burning into you.

You had completely blocked out the night on the couch, you both being a little more handsy than usual and you ending up on his lap in a heated kiss.

"Buck-" He shook his head at you. "No, no. Don't Buck, me. The sweet voice isn't working. Just- leave it. We were drunk, I get it." He said, going back to pouring his coffee. "I didn't thi-"

The glass pot clanking against the machine rougher than usual stopped you; Bucky glancing at you as he tried to walk back to the hallway. "I said leave it alone."

You grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him from going any further. "You're not going to avoid me over one drunk incident." You huffed.

He sat his mug on the counter and turned to you, looking down at you with a completely blank expression. "You gonna talk to me or come up with another excuse?"

Bucky inhaled a deep breath through his nose, lifting his hands to hold your cheeks gently; cold metal a wonderful contrast to his warm right hand.

"James-" A soft kiss was pressed to your lips, cutting off anymore scolding you could give him.

He tilted your head up more to deepen the kiss, the taste of coffee flooding your tastebuds when his tongue pressed into yours.

You reached your hands up to his wrists, pulling back to look at his hooded eyes; his lips chasing the air between you. "No, no. Come back." He mumbled, shaking his head as he slotted his lips over yours again.

"You have got to quit cutting me off." You said against his lips. He broke away for a moment and shrugged. "So much better this way though."

[bontens-new-executive]

Reasons why I'm down bad for Haitani Ran and Sanzu Haruchiyo

"Currently very upset that I cannot date ran nor sanzu :/"

- me

No bc sanzu and ran can respectfully step on me. Therefore, I will now share my reasoning on why im down bad for Haitani Ran and Sanzu Haruchiyo.

Warning: hot men, a bit of cursing, simp behavior

Requests Masterlist

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Ran

Before timeskip:

Can we collectively agree that ran looks so fucking hot with his sleek braided hair style???

Like it has that little something that makes me go brrrrr, yk

Then his lazy, droopy eyes??

Why exactly is that hot, sir? Bc it most definitely fucking is <3

He looks like he has the power and status to just sit there and feel untouchable. And yk why? Bc he can. He has the power, he has the status, he has the popularity

Nobody can touch him so why would he be bothered to care,,

he's just swag like that :/

His grin. His fucking grin.

Just that face, bored eyes and that cocky, teasing grin

And honestly, I'm 10/10 here for it

He gives me vibes that he'd be the type to tease you endlessly, flirt with you (nobody knows if it's for fun or if he actually has a thing for u), being playful and cocky, and just be joking around a lot

He probably has a soft side for people he cares about and I can physically not cope with that bc that's so cute :/

After the timeskip, bonten:

Tbh I'm a bigger fan of his long braided hair but I can't even be mad abt his short hair,,

Why? Bc he's just mad fine either way.

The more I look at his short hair, the more attractive it looks :/

He looks so classy and fancy??? I support.

Why is it so hot/cool/attractive that he's high ranked in bonten?? Like he's no underling nor some dumb-wannabe-yakuza, he is an executive??

He has the power to order others around and tell them what to do?? He's a boss??

Tbh i get the vibe that even after the timeskip he'd probably be the same as before, personality wise

He'll forever be cocky

Lazy eyes, wide teasing grin with a soft side that only few people get to see

It's debatable if he'd get a lover anyway bc of his job but if he does get one he'd be so sweet abt it omfg-

Also, why tf are there like only 10 pics of timeskip ran??? I NEED MORE CONTENT

Sanzu Haruchiyo

Before timeskip:

I didn't notice him much during bloodly Halloween but once he appeared as a official side character(?),,

Man he looked so cUte

Whipped instantly

His mask is so mysterious and fancy and his his hair is so pretty

👉Soft vibes👈 and that he's so loyal to mikey is even cuter i-

The fact that other division captains couldn't handle him bc "they couldn't handle this wild horse" is so cute-

SOMEONE SEND HELP

YO the moment he killed mucho I was like, 👀👀👀 Im looking, I'm looking 👀👀

That move with his k a t a n a, no hesitation and that speed

"I've been waiting for this" yUH-

And then he toOK HIS MASK OFF

That shit sent me

After timeskip, bonten:

OKAY LISTEN I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE PLS HES SO COOL,, FOR WHAT

Y'all he looks so fine. He looks so fucking fine.

Simping stage: unlocked

No bc I will never get over this :/

His scars? Yes, just yes.

It's so unique and just so special and highkey hot- i-

His earrings are also so nice and fancy mAn. They're just so pretty and fit his style so well

AND his hairstyle is so cool omfg, I mean I generally love this kind of hairstyle but it looks so so good on sanzu I can't-

Sign me up for this shit man :/

And then, the thing I'm most down bad for: his psycho persona.

Hes insane and I love it

Y'all can't tell me that aint sexy as fuck.

Man the way his look is so crazy and insane- and that maniac grin on top of that is just- <3

Just that stare-

Nah I'm quitting- I can't with this-

u G H

In conclusion: this man FINE AS FUCK

For legal reasons the psycho stuff is only acceptable in fiction so pls don't come for me <3

_____________________________

[rayofsunas]

s/o who dies.

A/n: listennnn, I wasn't going to write something dark, but then I unregretfully decided to listen to edgy/dark audios and I was suddenly in the mood to write this so yeah lmao. also, guess what? I'm planning on making a discord server right after posting this! so, be on the lookout for that when I get it all sorted out. also, note for Scaramouche's that the reader inserts tend to lean more femininely versed (I hope that's okay), the only reasons why I do that is because one I simp and I'm female AND two since I am doing a mini-series for Scara, I've kind of based his imagines/fics around that universe (baby daddy universe). I haven't started his yet, but consider these part of that series' universe. anyways as always thank you for requesting anon and enjoy! <333

Summary: you die + how the boys cope afterward.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, poison, illness/cancer, murder, arson, obsessive behavior

Word count: 2.1k

Albedo

"You need to keep this on your head." Your lover said for the one-hundredth time, placing the cold cloth on your forehead once again after taking it off only seconds earlier.

"This is pointless," You said, no longer wanting to ignore nor hide behind the invisible thick curtains of the obvious death sentence approaching. "My body rejected the medicine the first twice doses, what's a third time going to do?" You asked, knowing Albedo wouldn't answer; your hope was to knock some sense into his thick skull. but he was too worried trying to ignore the obvious as you had previously been doing, not anymore though.

This was saddening to watch, both Albedo's unfolding and the girl who accidentally poisoned you, whimpering into Sucrose's shoulder. She was only a young girl, barely seventeen when she was chosen to work under Sucrose and your boyfriend. She was very good at Alchemy and luckily had a desire to practice the craft. But unfortunately, she hadn't paid much attention when it came to Surcrose's educational poison lesson and had unknowingly mixed up poisonous liquids and materials.

After tipping over some clutter in Albedo's office and knocking over a test tube laying unsealed on the counter, you had realized the contents spilled on your skin, bleaching into your pores. You had been tasked with bringing the famed alchemist and his assistant some vials and materials for the collection of a rare butterfly they had found. It was both telling and obvious that something was wrong when you never showed up with the required materials requested and it was already too late hours later when the chief Alchemist, his assistant, and Alchemist in training came bounding down the stairs of Albedo's home laboratory.

It didn't take long for the trio to realize something was wrong. Sucrose had found the vile on the floor, most of its contents spilled and in a little puddle, plus your state on a nearby lounge chair was obvious; slumped awkwardly, forehead visibly sweating, eyes closed, breathing raspily.

You accepted the first doses of the supposed nullifying medicine without hesitation, just wanting the numbing feeling to go away. But when it never kicked in you decided it would be best to save the medicine, because it wasn't working. Your time was coming.

"Since the medicine is taking immediate effect, you should try to get the contents out of your system," He said, reaching out for you. Badly you wanted to argue that the medicine wasn't working at all, but he wasn't listening and already has his lean arms wrapped around your middle, helping gently lift and guide you over to the sink.

You hear materials being shoved to the side and soon enough you had your head dangling over the sink, shaking hands gripping the metalled edge tightly. Soon enough, Albedo's hand was on your back rubbing up and down, hoping to comfort you, it wasn't working though. You could only think about your death, what the other side would look like. Could there even be heaven or hell, maybe a place in between, maybe nowhere...?

As soon as you felt the urge to vomit, you did, and despite it being utterly disgusting Albedo seemed to welcome it happily. He took this as something good, but it only worried you when you saw the reddish hues in the bile.

"I think they should leave." You muttered acknowledging Sucrose and Elizabeth, the taste of gooey, metal only becoming more apparent. The blonde agreed, nodding and muttering "Okay."

As Sucrose lead Elizabeth towards the stairs, the pair heard you say. "Goodbye Sucrose, Elizabeth." Which only seemed to make the young girl wail louder.

You sighed sadly once the silence was back. Just your thoughts of death, and Albedo's slowly crushing heart.

"You should probably leave soon as well. I don't want you to be here when I go." Albedo frowned at your statement, head shaking.

"Don't say things like that."

Of course, he'd say that. Why did he feel the need to ignore this when it would only come back to hurt him even more later on when you were gone?

"You're the smartest man I know and we both know where this is heading," You said, head feeling much heavier than before. It was getting closer to your time. "I'm going to die, and you can't do anything about it."

"I'm not leaving your side. We promised to stick together through everything, you can't ask me to leave."

"I guess... But promise me this."

"When I go, stop blaming Elizabeth. It was an accident..." You said sincerely. Albedo wanted to make a fuss about it, tell you he'd never been able to forgive her. But for you, he would try. If it was your list desire, your last wish, he'd make it come true. Though it would be difficult. Accidental or not, she was the reason you were leaving him here, alone.

"Okay, I'll try..." He said honestly.

"Thank you," You said, letting out a shaking breath you had been holding for a very long time. Now you felt much more peaceful. "And since I know you stubbornly won't leave," You started, finally turning away from the sink to look into his cerulean eyes. "At least hold my hand."

"Of course, love."

even a year after your death, no matter how hard he tried, there was still this nagging feeling every time he looked at Elizabeth

he wanted too badly forgive her, but he couldn't

she had, although accidental, taken the one person that meant so much to him and he'd never forgive

Albedo is gonna be distant towards everyone he knows and it's completely purposeful

he doesn't like the pitiful gazes that people send his way and he hates that all the captains stared at him at your funeral

obviously, some questioned if he was able to stay in the field

he hadn't taken any time off, even when Jean advised he was welcome and that it would be best

tbh, albedo's going to have a hard time for a while

Xiao

Why did it have to be you? Why not him? He'd feel much better knowing you could live another day, after all, he'd been living a very long time.

But no, the fallen Archons, Gods, Yaksha had chosen you to join them. He wished that weren't the case

Humans and their pathetic vessels... So weak, he thought. Allowing something like cancer to beat them.

No matter how harsh it sounded, he didn't despise you, no. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. He just knew that if you were a godly being this wouldn't have happened like this or at least not so soon; Xiao had known Gods that had terminal illnesses to live years. Why couldn't you be like them?

He hated watching you lie there in that bed, immobile, sickly, and tired, and all you could say was that everything was going to be alright, that he'd be alright.

But it wasn't. He wouldn't be okay without you. He would struggle daily, fall deeper into a hole. You were the light of his life, the only light in his life. And you were gone, just like that. Turning external scars into internal ones tattered all over his dying heart.

Xiao for the longest time has been by himself, so the people of Liyue know it'll be harder for him to overcome this, no matter what he says or does to prove otherwise

Zhongli in particular knows how hard this will be for his friend

his first and probably last love, dead, gone in the blink of an eye

he'll continue fighting all the monsters he crosses, becoming even more violent when he does so, trying his best to get rid of this stupid sickly feeling of heartbreak

but it won't go away, no matter what he does, no matter how absurd

he just wants the feeling to go away, he despises that feeling so much

if you have a secret place somewhere, like in the mountains, Zhongli often finds him there, wallowing in invisible self-pity

"You know they wouldn't want you to be like this." Zhongli would say, only trying to help

but it doesn't

it only enrages Xiao, even more, fuels him to push everyone out of his life again instead of letting them in like he'd done in your presence

Scaramouche

How dare you. How dare you leave him like this. Alone, nonetheless with a toddler to raise who kept crying for her mommy. He couldn't do this without you, he didn't know how to raise a child, speak to her with the gentle care that you did. That was your expertise but now he'd be doing it solo.

And never again would he entrust someone who he cares about, into ignorant, incompetent arms. Never again will he ever allow any member of the Fatui to watch after his daughter; no matter their rank or position. They had one job while he was away doing business in Liyue. Guard your home twenty-four seven, accompany you into Inazuma's port town should you need anything, watch after his daughter while she plays happily in the luscious Inazuma fields. And they couldn't do that. All he gave them was one simple task, watch and keep you and your daughter safe. Instead, they slacked off, probably drunk in some bar while you were being brutally attacked by murderous mercenaries, left to fend for you and your daughter, only to die protecting her and leave your home to be severely burned.

He knew those idiotic Fatui soldiers were incompetent the moment he stepped foot into the harbor and found that everyone seemed to quiet down. Especially the eerily silent soldiers flanked on each side to welcome him home; he was the highest-ranking soldier in the land of Inazuma after all. Not a single one bothered to step forward and tell him what was wrong, what they all criminally allowed happen. Scaramouche only realized what had happened when he was mere minutes away from arriving home, his daughter had come running from his widowed mother's arms, the sight of smoke rising in the air, from the direction of his home. You were nowhere to be seen.

It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye. His daughter was clinging to his shirt and his mother only stared with tears of pity.

It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to be put together and before he knew it, Scaramouche was standing in front of his home, part of it burnt to a crisp and black.

He didn't need to ask what happened, he didn't need to know where you were, because he already knew. What he didn't know was who exactly had done this. But he was going to find out, now.

Incompetent, selfish, bastards. They would all pay for this. The lazy piggish Fatui soldiers who he should've never trusted with such a simple task and the thieves who had murdered you. They all had it rightfully coming.

Scaramouche hates the world after he lost you

he hates it so much and can't understand how this had happened

he's not a good person, so he blames it on karma and those stupid idiots who couldn't protect you

ngl, he's not gonna be around much after your death... his mother would argue that he should be here to raise your daughter, because she's also in pain and doesn't understand that this isn't some game of hide and seek this time

instead, he's focused and driven by revenge

he doesn't listen to a word anybody says, he's much more dangerous than before, and he only trusts his judgment

anyone trying to get him to stop his mission, is someone who doesn't want to see him happy he thinks (though that's not true at all. they hate that he is obsessive over this) but he will personally put a stop to that

and he'll only return home to his daughter and mother when he finds who did this and they along with their bloodline is exterminated

while he's gone, the remainder of his family is relocated somewhere he knows they'll be safe, for example, even though he despises childe, he knows his mom and daughter will be safe with his family

sorry, but Scaramouche will hold this deep-rooted hatred and love for you after you die

yes, he still loves and misses you dearly, but he hates you for leaving him alone, hates that although it wasn't intentional and out of your control, that you were gone

no matter how hard you tried to fight, it was selfish of you to leave him like this

he's not going to stop until he believes whoever was behind this is dead

and in his case, he'll stop believing when he chooses, even if they are innocent/guilty, he'll keep going

3.19.21, rayofsunas

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

[semperama]

If I could request a directors comment: Would you consider the hotel scene after Max shows up at the race track for the first time again? 👀

You mean at the hotel in Imola, right? With the b**wjob? Lolol. I assume that's what you meant, so sorry if I'm misinterpreting! Also sorry for how long this is!! It was hard to choose a good start and end point, so this ended up being like a third of the chapter, haha.

Max should have rehearsed what he was going to say. Wordlessly, he steps aside and lets Daniel in the room, but when Daniel stands by the foot of the bed, silent and staring, Max starts to fidget, twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he says at last, when the silence gets to be too much. [One of the defining aspects of Max's personality for me is the way he generally refuses to apologize or....examine his own behavior, ever, lol. I think if it weren't for Daniel's public outburst, he may never have considered apologizing, even though it's Daniel, and Max never really wants to hurt him. But this is still the guy that thinks, like, you can bring someone a beer and everything will be okay. Doesn't work that way, dude!!]

Daniel's face remains blank. "Sorry for what?"

Max swallows hard. "For not telling you I was coming here. And for not texting you after the last time we saw each other.” He takes a deep breath, then adds, “And for ignoring your texts for basically a year."

"That's a lot, Max," Daniel says. He scrubs a hand over his face and blows out a long breath. "I'm not sure I'm ready to just accept a simple 'sorry' for all of that." [And yet that's basically what he ends up doing, because he's so weak for Max.]

"I don't know what else I can do," Max says, and for once he's being completely honest. He has no idea what to say, no idea how to even begin to fix this.

"You could start by telling me the truth."

"About what?" Max asks, but when Daniel's face darkens, he holds up his hands in surrender. "I...I want to tell you everything. I do."

Daniel sighs, then sits down on the edge of the bed and knits his hands together in his lap, staring down at them and picking at his cuticles. "Why are you here?" he asks without looking up. "In Italy."

That, at least, he can answer. "I'm trying to figure out what comes next for me. If I can't drive anymore, I have to do something."

Daniel looks up then, a furrow forming in his brow. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" [I do feel like there's a version of this where Max ends up being a WAG and that's it. That's essentially how it actually does work out, because realistically he's doing charity stuff a few times a year. Abolish the myth that your worth is derived from your productivity tbh.] Max paces a few steps toward the window. He has to resist the urge to start doing laps around the room. "I can't just stay holed up in my apartment forever."

"Forever? Max, it's barely been a year since your crash, and you're obviously still in pain." [I do love this scene, because as I've touched on before, Max is such an unreliable narrator, and he very much does need to be told that he doesn't have to be okay less than a year after having something traumatic happen to him. He reacts with such shock to being told he doesn't have to be doing anything, but...Daniel's right.] Max starts to protest, but Daniel stops him with a look. "Don't lie to me."

Max touches his temple self-consciously. If it's obvious to Daniel, is it obvious to everyone? [No, because no one else knows him like Daniel does!!!] "It's my head," he says. "It bothers me a little." A lot. Whatever. He's sort of telling the truth. It counts.

Daniel nods, like that's exactly what he was suspecting. "Do you take anything?"

"Yes," Max says through gritted teeth. He nods toward the bedside table, the prescription bottles sitting there in plain view. "Painkillers. Sometimes sleeping pills. If the pain is too bad, or..." He clears his throat against the fear that threatens to clog it up. "I didn't sleep much, when I was in the hospital. It's not as bad now, but sometimes I still need...help." [I think Max's relationship with sleep is something I didn't focus on enough after a certain point, because I had too many other threads to juggle, but oh well. It happens.]

"Okay." Daniel looks down at his hands, then back up. "Okay, so. So like I said, you're still recovering. You don't need to be worrying about coming back to the racetrack, or finding a job. You're pushing yourself too much." [Would Daniel be happy with Max just being a WAG and following him around the country and never lifting a finger for anything himself ever again? Absolutely yes.]

"What else am I supposed to do? I can't sit around and do nothing."

Daniel shrugs, searching Max's face. "I’m not saying you have to sit around doing nothing. But you should figure out what you want to do, not what you think you should do. Even if you do still want to be around F1, you don’t have to make it a job. People do watch the races for fun, you know."

It seems silly now, but Max never even considered that he might find a way to enjoy F1 again purely as a spectator. [I'm not really sure if I think Max would enjoy watching F1 just to watch it. I think he enjoys watching (mostly rooting for) Daniel, but other than that, I don't know.] He never considered filling his days with things he enjoys either. He's spent so long wallowing in his own misery that he can't imagine doing anything else. It's felt like everything in him should be pushing toward some ultimate finish line where he could consider himself "better" or "recovered", but maybe it's not about pushing, and maybe it's not even about waiting. Maybe it's just about being. [If this fic has a theme, these last two sentences sum it up.]

"I don't like to feel useless," Max says. He can't look Daniel in the eye.

"No one does." Daniel stands up again and takes a few steps toward him. "You aren't useless, though. People care about you whether you can drive a car or not. People care about you whether you're perfectly healthy or not."

Max's eyes hurt, like months of unshed tears are pressing against them. He thinks about all the people coming up to him on the track today, all the genuine smiles on their faces. Why can’t he— Why can’t he just believe it. "You care about me," he says. It's not a question.

That wary expression returns to Daniel's face. "I do," he says slowly. "I don’t know how I can make that any more clear to you." [If Max hadn't reached out to Daniel after the encounter in the paddock, I really think Daniel might have tried to just avoid him from then on. He's just feeling too rejected.]

"It’s not—"

"Max," Daniel says, cutting him off, "I'm tired, and I have a race tomorrow. If you're just going to throw my feelings back in my face again, can we do it another time?"

"I wasn't going to," Max says. The thought of Daniel caring about him still scares him, but he knows that’s his own fault, not Daniel’s. "I never meant to do that. I just—"

Daniel tenses up. "I kissed you and you literally pushed me away."

"Yes, but." He tries to collect his thoughts, to come up with a decent excuse, but it’s so hard when Daniel is standing right in front of him, asking him for honesty. "I was angry."

"You were angry?" Daniel shakes his head in disbelief. "You were the one picking a fight. You were pissed off before we even left your place." [All of their fights boil down to Max just not acknowledging that Daniel's feelings are real, and Daniel not understanding that Max can't acknowledge that Daniel's feelings are real. Tragic!!]

"Then maybe you shouldn't have tried to drag me to a stupid club." This is a bad time to get defensive, but Max can’t help it. He feels cornered. "You said you could tell I was struggling. You sure didn't act like it." [Max would 100% have been even more pissed if Daniel babied him though. It's a lose-lose situation! Another trap! Daniel can't win!]

"I was trying to cheer you up." Daniel screws the heels of his hands into his eyes, then drops them again with a slap. "Fuck, Max. If this is your idea of an apology, it really fucking sucks, you know that?"

This is going all wrong. Max really did tend to apologize, but somehow he's fucked that up yet again. He reaches up and swipes at his face and realizes belatedly that some tears have slipped out after all. Daniel seems to notice at the same time, and he takes a step forward, lifting a hand like he's going to touch Max's cheek, brush the moisture away. [Even when he's angry, he's never too angry to make sure Max is okay.] But Max is tired of this—tired of fighting, tired of feeling like an asshole, tired of blaming Daniel, and tired of Daniel blaming himself and being kind to him when he doesn't deserve it.

He bats Daniel's hand away, wraps his own hand around the back of Daniel's neck, and drags him in, crushing their mouths together hard enough to bruise. It has no finesse, more like Max is trying to push himself into Daniel than kiss him. [I have this headcanon that Max is a terrible kisser and may someday write a fic where he asks Daniel to ~teach him, BUT that is neither here nor there.] Even this he's doing all wrong, but at least he's doing it. At least he's not pushing Daniel away again. That has to count for something.

"Max," Daniel says, muffled against Max's mouth. When Max doesn't immediately back off, he puts his hands flat on Max's chest and pushes a little. Max pulls away then, his face flushing, feeling stupid.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

Daniel puts his hands on Max's shoulders and holds him at arm's length. It seems like he’s searching for something in Max’s face, and for once, Max hopes he sees exactly what Max is thinking, the truth of how much Max wants him. All the other emotions, Max is still struggling with, but this—want—seems like a safe place to hide. [Ultimately, this scene is really about Max not knowing what to do about the conflict between the enormity of what he feels for Daniel and his absolute refusal to believe that Daniel could care about him the same way. He can acknowledge that maybe Daniel wants him, and maybe if they both "get it out of their system" they can move on, but of course, things never, ever work that way. Ever.]

"Do you still have that rule?" Max asks, wrapping his fingers around Daniel's wrists and gripping them tight. "About fucking before races?"

Daniel stares at him like he’s accidentally spoken Dutch. "How do you know about that rule?"

"I read things," Max says. He takes advantage of the fact that Daniel's grip has loosened to weasel out of it and get closer to him again. "I listen to things." [In real life, would Max pay attention to Daniel's interviews? I don't know. In my imagination does he regularly Google Daniel and read everything he can find? Yes.]

"Michael wakes me up early." [What a totally insane thing to say. Daniel is so frazzled right now.] Daniel's hands have settled on his waist, but a struggle is playing out on his face. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped an octave. "Max."

"Let me suck your dick," Max says, suddenly shameless. He knows Daniel wants him. He can see it. This could be so simple. [Narrator: No it couldn't.]

"Jesus." Daniel closes his eyes, tightens his grip on Max's hips to the point of bruising. "I thought— I thought you didn't want—"

"I want." Max falls to his knees. "I do."

Daniel grips Max's chin, holding him back, but looking up at him, Max can already tell that he's won. [Look. My thoughts about how Daniel can never and would never resist Max are multiple and unhinged, and I cannot even begin to explicate them here. They may be explored in more detail in future fics.] Daniel's eyes are wide and black, his mouth open. It feels fucking incredible to get to him like this. This is what Max wanted. A feeling like he has something to offer, something Daniel wants. His mouth. That's simple. He can give Daniel his mouth. [This is one of the first scenes I envisioned when I started writing this fic, for the simple reason that it made sense to me that Max would regain some of his sense of control and agency in his life through sex. Is it totally healthy for him to see this as something he can do to make Daniel happy again? Probably not. But it's still an important step for him, I think. It puts him on the path toward realizing he can still give and receive pleasure from the world generally and Daniel specifically.]

"I don't understand," Daniel says, so softly it might be that he didn't mean to say it out loud.

"It’s okay," Max says. Daniel releases his chin, and he presses forward, rubs his face against the front of Daniel's track pants. He can feel Daniel respond to him, twitching against his cheek, but when he looks up again, Daniel's expression is conflicted. Still.

"Max…"

"Please," Max says, and opens his mouth, taking the head of Daniel's nylon-clad dick into his mouth. [I realize Daniel doesn't exactly give enthusiastic consent in this scene and I'm sorry but I'm also not that sorry.] He can hear Daniel suck in a sharp breath, and it makes him groan low and close his eyes, willing them both to disappear into this moment. It doesn't matter if his head aches like it always does, a quiet pain he's happy to ignore for now. It doesn't matter if Daniel's has a race tomorrow, and he's worrying about how much sleep they'll get. They can forget all that, just for now. They can forget everything.

When he curls his hands around the waistband of Daniel's pants, Daniel doesn't stop him. And when he drags them down to mid-thigh, and Daniel's cock springs free, and Daniel still doesn't stop him, he almost whimpers with relief. He leans in again, pressing his face into the crease of Daniel's thigh and inhaling. [Max the freak wanting everything base and gross about Daniel is a universal constant!!]

"Max," Daniel says again. Max hasn't had any strong feelings about his name before, but he could listen to Daniel say it forever and ever. All he wants to do is make Daniel say it again.

He wraps his hand around Daniel, glides it over his slick-soft skin, and guides him into his mouth. He's not all the way hard yet, so Max can get enough of him into his mouth to almost sate the gnawing need inside him, the hole that needs filling. [I do again need to pat myself on the back for that sentence.] The sound Daniel lets out, soft and strained, makes Max want to stay there forever, not moving, savoring the way Daniel feels and tastes.

"Hold on," Daniel says, and he withdraws from Max's mouth long enough to take two steps backward and sit down on the edge of the bed again. He isn't even done pushing his pants down over his knees before Max descends on him again, licking up his length before taking him into his mouth.

Daniel is the best thing Max has ever tasted. He's never had a dick in his mouth before, but he doesn't fucking care. [I know we all think Daniel is good at sex, but honestly I think Max is good at sex too, by virtue of enthusiasm alone. He may not have all the finesse or whatever, but he has the lack of inhibition, and that goes a long way!] He forgets to worry whether he's doing it right and loses himself in fitting as much of Daniel in his mouth as he can, feeling the weight of him on his tongue, licking the salt from his skin. This is the first time he hasn't worried about anything in months. It's the first time he hasn't cared whether he's doing things right or living up to his potential. All he cares about is the sound of Daniel’s breathing, the way he settles his hands on Max's shoulders and then slides them up into his hair. It's the best fucking feeling, instinctual in the same way driving a new track is instinctual, the same way knowing when to brake is instinctual. [If I ever manage to write a Max POV sex scene without comparing sex to driving, assume I've been possessed.]

He screws his tongue into Daniel's slit, wanting to taste him, and Daniel jerks and groans, tightening his fingers in Max's hair but not pushing him away. He says Max's name again, barely a whisper, and Max feels that thrill again, like he's stepping onto a podium in front of a roaring crowd. [Damn, okay, maybe I was little heavy handed with the metaphors.] He takes Daniel deeper, doing his best to ignore the urge to gag. If he could, he'd swallow Daniel whole.

"Fuck," Daniel says, his hands drifting back down to the back of Max's neck, where they knead the muscle there. Max wants to tell Daniel to stop being so nice, to take what he needs, but he'd have to pull off to do that, and he'd rather die than let Daniel slip out of his mouth for one second. Instead, he tries to convey it without words, reaching up and curling his hand over Daniel's, taking him deep enough that he gags audibly. [Rereading this, I'm just getting ideas for PWPs I want to write in the future tbh.]

"I can't—" Daniel says, easing Max off a little, and Max has no idea whether he means can't or won't, but either way, he whimpers, disappointed. Daniel strokes the side of his face like he's trying to soothe him, but it's not good enough. He wants Daniel to fuck his throat until he can't think at all, can't feel anything else, won't think about anything for days.

All too soon, Daniel is gripping his hair and trying to drag him backward, but Max grunts his disapproval and refuses to go, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. Soon after, he's rewarded with a spill of bitterness over his tongue, a flood of wetness he struggles to swallow before it spills from the corners of his mouth and down over his chin. [An insight into the craft side of things: there's a fine line between repetition for artistic value and just...repeating a word so much that it's annoying, and I'm not sure I struck the balance here, haha.] He doesn't want to waste a drop of it, and even after Daniel starts going soft, he sucks at the taste of him, making sure he gets every last drop.

"Max," Daniel hisses. "Mercy."

Only then does Max pull away, but he can't look up, instead burying his face in the meat of Daniel's thigh. The hair there scratches at his cheek, but it feels good, and he rubs against it, back and forth, until Daniel's hand lands in his hair again, stilling him.

"What," Daniel says. "What was that."

Max doesn't know, doesn't care, doesn't want to talk about it. He looks up at Daniel, head still tipped against his thigh, and wills him not to make him explain. [Max would be a horrible FWB, because if he's not fully obsessed with someone before he sleeps with them, he certainly would be after the first time. IMO!]

Daniel puts a hand to Max's face and swipes his thumb across his cheek, then tugs at him. "Come here. Let me touch you."

That's not what Max wants. He's still hard, tenting his sweats, but it’ll ruin everything if he lets Daniel touch him now. [Sorry to ruin everything by reminding you this is Max's twisted way of apologizing and it's actually pretty depressing!] "It's okay," Max says, sitting back and rubbing his hands on his thighs. "I know you need to sleep."

"I've been here this long," Daniel says, trying to pull him closer again. "I can stay a few minutes more."

"Next time," Max says, because he has to say something to get Daniel to leave it alone for now.

"Okay." Daniel says it on the end of a sigh, like he’s trying to convince himself it really is okay. "Alright." [Max might beg, but Daniel is not gonna beg. Especially since Max hasn't exactly been gentle with his feelings generally.] He gets to his feet and starts to pull his pants back into place, and Max has to look away, the blood rushing to his face. "Come here," Daniel says, holding out a hand and then pulling Max to his feet too. He puts his hand back against the side of Max's face, forcing him to look at him, and the gesture is so unbearably tender in makes Max's chest ache. "There will be a next time, then?"

Max swallows against a wave of guilt. He should have known Daniel would latch on to those two words. [Max is way too confident in his own abilities to resist Daniel here. He has no idea that he's already too far gone himself.] "Are you going back to Monaco tomorrow night?" he asks, deflecting.

Daniel's mouth twists with something like regret. "I'm flying straight to the US," he says. "I wanted to spend some time in LA before I head to Miami for the next race."

"It's fine," Max says, because he can see Daniel getting ready to extend another impulsive invite, and that's the last thing he wants. [Max is 100% right here. Daniel would totally have asked Max to come with him here and have no shame about it, except that he's still worried about more rejection.] "Maybe I will see you in Barcelona."

"Max," Daniel says, and Max can hear the weight in it, all the things Daniel wishes he had time to say but doesn't because it's too late and there's a race tomorrow and they never should have done this in the first place. Next time, Max might not be able to hide behind the late hour. Next time, he has to have his answers ready, because he doubts Daniel will give in so easily.

"I’ll text you," Max says. He draws Daniel's hand away from his face and presses it between both of his own. "Or you can call me sometimes, if you want. When you're not busy." [Max is telling himself he's conceding to this to make Daniel happy, because that's easier than admitting he doesn't want to go without talking to Daniel that long himself.]

Daniel's eyes light up, and— Fuck, it feels so good to make him happy. [Just OTP things. D:] To say the right thing instead of the wrong thing for once. This makes for a nice change. Max could get used to it. He shouldn't, but he could.

"I'll call you then," Daniel says. Then, slowly—slow enough for Max to have time to pull away—he leans in and presses his mouth to Max's, a kiss so sweet and soft Max almost shatters all over again. [Look, I don't know if it's bad practice to wail over one's own fic, but I do write it to make myself happy, so. I'm just so crazy about them! Ahh!!] "Good night," he says, then pecks Max again.

"Good night." Max can't look at him. He'll cry again if he does. He knows he will. "Drive fast tomorrow."

"Only because you asked me to."

Max can't see the wink, but he can hear it in Daniel's voice. His gaze is fixed somewhere around Daniel's ear, and he keeps it there as Daniel turns away, opens the door, and finally it swings shut behind him. [I feel like every chapter of this fic ends either with a door closing or someone falling asleep. Transitions are hard, guys!]

[rosalesbeausderholle]

So, like... are you a terf? Can't tell tbh

Okay, so I've been staring at this ask for days, trying to decide to answer or not, because I knew if I answered I'd likely end up writing a lot about my thoughts on this whole thing, and that the effort wouldn't be appreciated, so I'd rather leave it or answer with a witty one-liner.

But you know what? This is also the perfect opportunity to actually lay out my beliefs, which have changed over the years, and get certain things off my chest, because I feel like I must, so I'm going for it. Obviously, this blog is not super serious, but I do talk a lot about politics and especially feminism on here, so I think it's important that the people who read it get a good sense of where I actually stand.

This may be long, so I'm gonna give a short answer for your benefit, anon, and then a long one.

So, am I a terf?

Short answer: no. I neither consider myself a radical feminist nor do I exclude trans people's experiences with gender from my analysis of gender, while I firmly believe that feminism is a movement for women's liberation and must center women, the destruction of gender roles would be helpful to everyone. I also, genuinely, don't have anything against trans people, even if I disagree with some stances on gender people tout in the name of trans rights. So no, I don't think I am one.

And if you mean it in the sense of "is this blog safe for trans followers?" Well, it's a blog, a blog can't physically hurt you or oppress you, or make you unsafe. It can upset you, sure, and I hope I don't upset people by blogging, but I don't post anything with the intent to hurt anyone, and I hope I don't hurt trans people either, I certainly don't go out of my way to do so.

Now, the long (long, long, looong) answer under the cut:

It is true that I don't consider myself a radical feminist, that is, I don't consider myself a radical feminist anymore.

There's many reasons why I drifted away, but mostly it boils down to the general atmosphere in the movement. During my years around online radical feminist spaces I've seen people become increasingly more and more cruel and increasingly more like the people they argue against. What led me to it in the first place was not only that it pointed out the flaws and problems on popular views on gender, sexuality, and feminism in general, but that they were proud of being "the rational ones", "the ones that don't ostracize people for wrong think", "the smart ones that act according to science and not obsessive beliefs that don't hold up to analysis" and over the years I've just found that to be untrue.

The sense of sisterhood is just… not there and it honestly feels like you're one wrong word of being metaphorically stabbed in the back (the same way I feel within mainstream feminist/lgbt communities, echo chambers proliferate anywhere). I've seen people piled on for the smallest disagreements and misinterpretations, I've seen women demonized over all kinds of shit, and for incredibly hypocritical reasons too (one notable example that I'm sure people familiar with the drama will recognize is the woman who admitted to having done BDSM and be a Domme… harassing and stalking a woman who was abused by bdsm as a teen?) The cruelty I've seen some radfems express towards other women is honestly astounding, and I'm not about that.

There's also a lot of bigotry. For one, yes, there's radfems that are transphobic (of course they say that they aren't, that transphobia doesn't exist, or that they consider transphobia to be something else entirely) and I don't even mean in the sense of using one set of pronouns over the other or not believing in gender, I mean in the sense of being outright cruel towards trans people who don't deserve it whatsoever. In the sense of immediately assuming that all trans people ever are fetishists and have awful intentions and want nothing but to hurt women and gay people, in the sense of constantly making fun of trans people's appearances, in the sense of talking about how the bodies of trans people are "broken", "mutilated", "deformed".

Not to mention the fact that so many have no sympathy whatsoever for what experiencing dysphoria is like. Then of course, there's a myriad of words like "troon" that just feel like "I want to call trans people slurs but I might get judged for that." I can't stand for that, no matter the disagreements I have with mainstream ideas about gender.

I've also seen many examples of ableism, homophobia, racism, and a lot, like A LOT, of internalized misogyny which leads to saying incredibly misogynistic things towards other women. Whatever the debate du jour is, it feels like there's always someone ready to call someone else a "dickworshipper", or to call lesbians "incels", or to express some seriously victim-blaming-sounding sentiments towards women abused by men.

This has become worse in the recent years because as more and more people find out about the feminist vs trans debate about gender, and more people self-identify as "gender critical" (a label that now makes me ashamed), more white conservatives have started to use these platforms to spread hate, and also, as the debate becomes viler and crueler on both sides, people, well, people get angrier, they get somewhat radicalized (again, this goes for both sides), they start believing it is acceptable to behave in a way they wouldn't have a year ago. The fact that this all happens across the internet just makes it worse, because it's easier to insult anonymously than to someone's face.

So, because of that, and because of not agreeing with stuff like political lesbianism and some level of biological essentialism (not in the way people use it, in the "men are naturally wired to be violent and misogyny is inescapable" way, which I don't grudge people for having these sentiments I get why they exist, I just disagree) I don't call myself a radical feminist anymore.

However, it is still true that I have a lot of problems with modern takes about gender and feminism, and that if you were to label my feminism, "radical feminist" would be what fit best. The fact that I disagree with a lot of how radfems/gcs act doesn't mean they can't also be right in certain issues and I've personally made lots of friends and met a lot of wonderful and incredibly smart people through these spaces. And the idea that anyone that so much associates with "terfs" is immediately an irredeemable demon is a flat-out fear-mongering lie.

There's a reason why these debates get so heated and so hurtful, and while sure, I recognize that it is true that most trans people want to live their lives happily as they feel most comfortable, I can't just ignore how there's a lot of misogyny and homophobia that so many people arguing for trans rights (both by people who are trans and who are cis) spout.

The cotton ceiling is a prime example, it will never be anything but incredibly homophobic to tell lesbians and gay men that we must examine our sexualities in order to change them so that they include trans people that we're not attracted to. And this has hurt people, a lot of us, and it has even lead of actual real instances of sexual coercion, because in a climate in which being attracted to someone means validating and respecting them, and not validating them is the worst you could do, it gets so so so easy for predators and abusers to take advantage of vulnerable people. And this, by the way, has nothing to do with anything inherent to trans people, but with that how predatory people have always been drawn to those who are vulnerable.

And you can argue in circles all you want about how "well nobody is telling you that you have to fuck X, nobody cares!" they sure care when they ask lesbians unprompted who they'd sleep with in order to make sure they're politically pure, they sure care when they make guides telling us step by step how we should get over our aversion to penis, they sure care when being only attracted to the same sex as yourself gets you immediately branded as a terf and that's the worst thing anyone could be ever, regardless of your actual stances on feminism and on trans issues. The moment someone has said "no, I'm not into that" and your response is "yes, ok, BUT you should ask yourself why" you've already lost, you've already become the bad guy in the situation, you're already trying to ignore someone else's sexual boundaries.

And the reason why lesbians and gay men care so much and get so angry about this is because we've fought for so long for our sexual orientation to be accepted and for us to be able to proudly be ourselves, and now, we not only have to face homophobia from outside the community, but from the inside too. We can't even rely on the people who are supposed to be on our side not to be disgustingly homophobic towards us. And yes, wanting us to change our sexual orientation so you, personally, feel valid is nothing but homophobic. We're not hurting people or disrespecting them by not sleeping with them, we're not fetishists or genital-obsessed freaks. We just happen to be attracted to one sex that's all. It's not evil, it's just how we are. And you know what? I don't deny that there's women out there who might be a, idk, Kinsey 5 and who'd describe their sexualities as "everyone who identifies as a woman", and you know that's fine, but the fact is that these women's sexuality doesn't work the same as mine, I'm attracted to female people, not to external femininity or a gender identity (something I can't even see!) and I'm not gonna apologize for feeling like that. It also doesn't have to be hurtful for trans people that there's people who are exclusively same-sex and opposite-sex attracted, while other people may be more attracted to gender presentation. We're just different, that's okay. And sex is not activism, so no one has to sleep with anyone so that person is respected, because sex =/= validation =/= respect, but rather respect of other people's personhood is the only thing that equals respect, whether you find them hot or not.

There's also a lot of misogynistic sentiments that come out of modern lgbt communities and liberal progressives, and who are tied up in debates about trans rights. Such as: the insane idea that biological sex doesn't actually exist or matter, people claiming to be progressive yet basing their gender identity (or other's gender identity) off of gender roles. So many parents who go to the doctor and get a diagnosis of gender dysphoria only become worried in the first place because their little girl played with trucks or their little boys like to wear dresses, because they find that behaviour aberrant. I don't think that is in any way progressive, and I don't think people saying "I'm trans because I fit the gender steriotypes of the opposite sex" is either and sure, not everyone does that, but it happens. I believe in abolishing gender in the sense of abolishing gender roles, I don't think there's anything inherently masculine or feminine, there's just people who, mostly, are of one sex or the other, and there's the roles that are imposed and assigned unto them from the moment the doctor says "it's a girl/boy" (please everyone read Delusions of Gender).

Basing one's identity on gender roles and misogynistic ideas of what it means to be a man/woman is just… misogynistic... plain and simple, and while everyone is free to do what they wish, I can't just pretend that I'm okay with the perpetration of misogynistic gender steriotypes, or pretend that my body doesn't make me part of a sex class which is who misogyny is aimed at, and that my only sense of "womanhood" comes not from pronouns or from an innate feminine essence but rather my body and all the experiences I've lived in it. And I can't deny that, or deny that other female people (or afab people, if you prefer) are also affected by misogyny because of their bodies and how they're interpreted, regardless of their gender identity. It's ridiculous to say that a trans man can't be part of feminism, or that he has the same status in patriarchy of a cis man, same with trans and cis women, it is ridiculous to pretend our bodies aren't real and don't affect our lived experiences.

Of course people experience is gender dysphoria and I want to be empathetic to that experience, and I believe that people have the right to deal with it however they feel more comfortable with, which yes, includes gender transition. But there's also people who detransition for a myriad of reasons, and people who are dysphoric but don't physically transition for medical reasons, or people who's dysphoria doesn't last forever. Because of that, what I believe is that there should be available methods of dealing with dysphoria that don't include only transition, and I don't think that's taking away from trans people, but rather giving people who are dysphoric more options. I obviously do not support conversion therapy in any way shape or form, but medical transition is still a huge, literally life changing process, and people deserve to be informed when they go through it and have more options to deal with their dysphoria if they decide not to (options that obviously aren't going to a conservative therapist and encouraging them to be a girly straight girl or a manly straight man).

There's not one way to be a man or a woman, gender roles are bullshit and not natural, homosexuality is real (and so is sex) and it's fine that it exists, trans people deserve the right to live free of discrimination, homophobia and misogyny can also come from people who aren't white cishet conservatives, and deserves to be called out for what it is, but so does transphobia. Oh, and burn the sex industry to the ground too. That's what I believe.

Now, you tell me if I'm evil.

[simpstar123]

More Than Friends || Callum Airey

Requested - No, but requests are open 💙

A/n - This is one of my fave things I've written lately tbh. Hope y'all like it 💕

Word count - 1,033

7.17.20

Y/n was over Cal's house again, of course. They had been in this type of relationship for a while, and neither of them really had anything against it. She had fallen for him but kept it under wraps well enough. He was in love too but hid it out of fear of losing her. They both chose to be satisfied with what they had going.

That was, until tonight. The two rarely argued, if you could even call it that when they did. However, things such as this are bound to blow up eventually. That just happened to be sooner than expected in this situation.

Y/n had come over and they had done their usual activities, which of course consisted of Netflix, cuddling, and eventually hooking up. It was normal for her to spend the night at Cal's, and, if it was at her place, Cal almost always stayed over. As the two were laying together, half-naked and relaxed, Y/n thought of something. "You think Cal heard us?" she asks, running a hand through her messy hair.

"Probably," he laughs, "I think he usually does, but he knows about us, it's fine."

She thinks about that for a minute, trying to figure out exactly what the relationship between them had become. She really had no idea anymore. On the surface, it seemed like friends with benefits, except those benefits were starting to include a lot more qualities of a romantic relationship than a purely sexual one.

"Cal knows about us?" she asks incredulously, sitting up quickly. Her chin rests in the palm of her hand as she waits for an answer.

"I guess, why wouldn't he?" Cal replies, still staring at the ceiling. He can feel her eyes on him and suddenly feels guilty, although he can't figure out exactly why.

"Because that's weird," she says, her eyes drifting around the room. She leaves it at that, hoping for a more intelligent reply from the man next to her. He doesn't say anything at first, obviously thinking about something.

"What's weird about it? He doesn't judge," Cal explains, finally turning over to face her. She blinks slowly at him and bites her tongue.

"This isn't even an actual relationship," she finally breaks, sitting all the way up and crossing her arms. She'd raised her voice, without even realizing it, and worried for a second that Lux could also hear her now.

"What do you mean by that?" Cal says, avoiding eye contact. Her anger surprised him as it was pretty unusual for her.

"This means nothing, right? Let's face it, I'm just one of your many booty calls!" She hisses. Without looking back at Cal for even a second, she stands up and walks out, heading straight for the other Cal's room. The two were close friends and told each other almost everything. Her plan was to rant to him until she felt better. She didn't even care if the other idiot could hear her.

"Cal?" She asks, knocking quickly on his door.

"Come in," He calls. Y/n doesn't even hesitate to open the door. She walks in, quickly shutting the door behind her, and flops onto Cal's bed next to him. He shoots her a look of concern, but otherwise stays quiet and waits for her to speak. However, she remains quiet and stares at the ceiling, clenching her jaw.

"What happened?" Cal finally asks, hoping to avoid upsetting her more. She scoffs and shakes her head. Eventually, she sits up and crosses her legs, facing Cal and studying his expression for a few seconds.

"Cal's a fucking dickhead," she replies simply. Lux sighs, closing his laptop and putting on his bedside table with his headphones. Y/n watches his actions and realizes he was most likely using the headphones while she and Cal were 'making noise' in the other room. Lux sighs and takes a deep breath. He'd known about the whole friends with benefits thing since it started and he had a good guess of where it would end up going. Actually, he'd assumed they'd fallen in love a long time ago when they had first met. Now, looking at the situation in front of him and knowing that Cal was more in love than he'd ever been, all he could do was shake his head.

"Are you sure he's not just... trying to hide his true feelings for you?" Cal suggests, hoping to sound inconspicuous. She laughs aloud and rolls her eyes.

"Yeah right. Our first rule was not to catch feelings. Cal isn't like me, he wouldn't break that rule," she says, dragging her fingers lightly across her arm as she's thinking.

"What do you mean 'like you'?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, isn't it obvious. I love him. He's a dickhead, but I love him," she groans, putting her head in her hands and closing her eyes. It was painfully obvious to everyone who knew the two of them. Although Cal opted not to mention that, he was thinking it very intensely at her as though she'd somehow get the message.

"So why don't you just tell him?" he asks, hoping that Cal could hear the conversation from his room. She shakes her head at him silently.

"Hello? I broke the first rule of being friends with benefits," she replies simply, her eyes trained on anything but his.

"And you think he hasn't?" Cal says, watching her facial expressions carefully.

"Has he?" she whispers, her eyes lighting up like Christmas lights. He nods in response, glancing towards the door and back to her. He had a feeling his friend was listening in on the conversation.

"Y/n, everyone knows you mean the world to him," he says, smiling. She returns the smile and gets up quickly. The door opens behind her, causing her to spin around, suddenly face-to-face with Cal. He meets her eyes, trying to hide his nervousness. She runs into his arms and they share a tight hug. Lux laughs and snaps a picture of the pair, sending it to the group chat. When he looks up again, Cal mouths the words thank you to him.

[cocastyle]

Change - Ch. 1 | T W O

Paring - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 4,863

A/N - Merry Christmas! I’m already so overwhelmed by the love and support this series has gotten with only one chapter out! it’s crazy tbh and we still have the whole series to look forward to! I can’t wait for you all to see what is in store! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

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T W O - New Friends

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Stanley's voice was all Y/N could hear as she quietly played with the hem of her yellow dress while her cousin practiced the readings he would have to cite from the Torah. She didn't quite understand all that he was saying due to the fact he was stuttering and mispronouncing a few words, but she understood the gist of it and that was all that mattered so she was proud to say the least.

Y/N always had loved listening to her cousin, his voice holding a soft and warm tone to it that made her relax every time he opened his mouth. But just when a small smile had begun to play on her face as she listened to the boy, her uncle, Donald Uris, had stopped him, a deep frown on his face as he said, "You're not studying, Stanley."

Y/N glanced up from her dress to look at her uncle who stood above the two on the level above. She glanced at Stan who had lowered his head ever so slightly, his shoulders tense as he stared at the book in front of him.

"How's it gonna look. . .the rabbi's son can't finish his own Torah reading," his father frowned, shaking his head slightly at the boy. "Take the book to my office. Obviously you're not using it."

Y/N winced at the harsh words before looking over at Stan again, the boy nodding numbly as he picked the book up. His eyes flickered over to lock with her own and she offered him a small smile which he returned with a weak one before he disappeared from the room to put the book up.

"Y/N," her uncle called out and the girl was quick to look up at him. "I'm going to go grab my things and then you and Stanley can meet me in the car, okay?"

Y/N nodded silently in response and her uncle seemed to like that because he gave her a small nod as well before walking away, leaving the girl to sit by herself in the middle of the synagogue. She didn't know how long she was sitting there before she began to grow a little impatient from waiting on her cousin. Why it took Stan so long to put up a single book was beyond her, but she couldn't bring herself to go after him and tell him to hurry up, thinking it to be too mean.

So Y/N just sat there silently, her fingers messing with the hem of her dress once again as she softly hummed to herself.

"Y/N."

The young girl instantly tensed before her head shot up, her eyes flickering around her in confusion at the voice that had sounded an awfully lot like her father's. "Peanut," the voice said again and Y/N found herself jumping up onto her feet.

"Dad?" she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she gulped. What was her father doing here? Hadn't she been sent away so that he and her mother could finish off the divorce?

"It's all your fault, Peanut," her father's voice rang out, a confused look crossing the girl's face at those words. "How could you split your mother and I up like this? If it weren't for you, we'd still be together. We wouldn't even need this stupid divorce."

"I-I. . ." Y/N began, but she froze once she saw a figure standing in the shadows on the other side of the room, the figure belonging to someone she thought was her father.

"You split up our family! You're the reason everything's gone to shit. No wonder we sent you away for the summer. It's not because we need a break from each other. It's because we need a break from you," her father hissed, his voice growing nastier and more hateful by the second.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't know!" Y/N defended herself, but her voice was low and trembly and her eyes had already begun to prickle with tears.

"You're a shitty excuse for a daughter. We should just get rid of you now before you can ruin our lives further," her father spat, his words hitting Y/N so hard that she had to wrap her arms around herself for comfort.

"Dad," Y/N cried out, but all he did was laugh in response. However, he wasn't laughing for long before the sound of his laughter seemed to change pitches, morphing into laughter that Y/N didn't recognize as the figure started to make its way into the light.

Y/N felt her breath get caught in her throat at the sight of a clown standing there, the figure turning out to not even be her father. Did that mean the clown had been the one to say all those things?

"Oh, poor little Y/N. All alone and loved by no one," the clown mocked.

"That's. . .that's not true," Y/N insisted as she shook her head, her feet glued to the floor while the clown slowly began to walk towards her.

"Your parents sent you away for the summer, did they not? And your cousin Stanley. Well, he can't stand you. There's a reason he hasn't come back yet you know. He just wants to enjoy the time he has away from you," the clown told her, a smirk spreading across its face as it grew closer.

"That's not true!" Y/N exclaimed, tears falling down her face as she tried to ignore the clown's words. However, that was hard when her biggest fear was the people she cared about leaving her and not caring about her anymore.

"You're alone. You're worthless," the clown muttered, now only a few feet away. He stopped before he could get any closer and Y/N could do nothing more than just stare at him, silently praying that her uncle or even Stan might return to save her.

"No one could ever love you."

Then, before Y/N could even blink, the clown was running at her, its mouth opening up wide to reveal rows of teeth that had Y/N screaming. The high pitched scream that left her lips combined with the high pitched scream of her cousin coming from upstairs (which she had yet to notice) was enough to jerk her body into motion, the girl bolting away from the clown and out of the synagogue as fast as she could.

She was just about to run out the front door when someone coming from the stairs collided into her. Y/N hit the ground hard and opened her eyes only to come face to face with someone else. Another scream escaped her lips and it was quickly returned by the person she had run into—her cousin, Stan.

"Jesus, Stanley!" Y/N cried out, her eyes wide with fear as she pushed herself up onto her feet.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't see you coming. Are you. . .are you okay?" Stan asked worriedly as he got up onto his feet, his body tense as he looked around him almost like he was afraid someone would pop out at them.

Y/N was silent for a moment as she looked back towards the room she had just come from. The clown had disappeared and there didn't seem to be any sign of him having existed at all. Not wanting to freak her cousin out or have him thinking she was crazy, the girl just sent Stan a small forced smile.

"Oh, I'm fine," she assured him, her eyes flickering over his slightly pale face. "What about you? Are you okay?"

"What? Me? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Stan asked, his voice rushing out quickly.

However, Y/N didn't seem to notice and only gave the boy a sympathetic smile before saying, "Your father was a bit harsh back there." Stan's face fell at that, both out of relief and embarrassment since Y/N had to witness the whole thing. "Hey, it's okay. You'll get it. I can even help you practice if you want."

Stan looked up to his cousin in surprise. "Really? You'd do that?" the boy asked, his voice coming out soft as his eyes flickered over her face looking for a sign that she didn't actually want to help him.

"Of course. I've got nothing better to do," Y/N pointed out, a nervous laugh escaping her lips as she looked back towards where the clown had been standing only moments before.

Stan looked in the direction she was looking in confusion, but quickly looked away when he heard a loud honking from outside. "Shit, that's my dad. We should go," Stan muttered and Y/N swore she had never agreed to something so fast in her life.

So together, the two walked out of the synagogue, leaving the nightmares they had just witnessed behind them.

- - -

Y/N stared at her hands which had balled into fists in front of her, her knuckles so white that she swore if she tightened her grip anymore her fingers might fall off. It was the next day and officially the first day of summer, but Y/N had yet to get the events that had taken place the day before out of her head.

Her father's voice. . .the clown. . .it had all just seemed too real to be something her brain had made up.

"Y/N!" Stan's voice rang out from downstairs, instantly snapping the girl out of her thoughts.

She quickly relaxed her hands and lifted her head before calling out, "Yes?"

"Bill, Richie and Eddie are here! I'm going to go ahead and get my bike, but I'll meet you outside, okay?" Stan asked.

"Okay," Y/N called out to him before she heard the sound of her cousin's footsteps disappearing and the sound of the door slamming behind him. It was only then that Y/N looked back to herself in the mirror, pausing slightly to take in her appearance and fix her hair once again before she was walking out of her room to go meet up with the boys outside.

Outside, Stan was already standing near his friends, his bike by his side as Richie rambled on about how he was sure Y/N had gotten even hotter since the last time they saw her. "I mean, five years is a long time. She's probably a total babe by now," Richie rambled. "Do you know if she has a boyfriend?"

"No," Stan muttered in annoyance. "She does not."

Richie glanced over at Bill and nudged him slightly with his elbow. "You hear that, Bill? There's still a chance," Richie teased.

Bill sent his friend a small glare in his direction, but it was quickly replaced by a look of pure shock, his eyes widening slightly and his mouth falling open as he looked at something behind Richie. Both Richie and Eddie gave the boy a confused look before turning around, their eyes widening at the sight before them while Stan just smiled.

Coming out the front door was none other than Y/N Uris herself, the girl definitely having grown up since the last time they had seen her. Her hair was long now, a sharp contrast from the small bob cut she had sported five years ago. Although she still had some growing up to do, it was obvious Y/N had grown into her features more, her body having natural curves that hadn't always been there and that would only grow more defined with age.

Bill didn't know why his face heated up at the sight of her, but it did. And boy, when she looked up at the group, her eyes brightening before she gave them a bright smile, Bill swore his heart stopped.

"Holy shit," Richie muttered as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Stan the Man, you've been holding out on us. Your cousin's smokin'!"

Stan scrunched his nose up in disgust and was quick to whack his friend in the arm before Y/N could hear. Y/N gave her cousin a curious look as she came to a stop before the boys, but Stan just shrugged in response.

Y/N shook her head with a small smile on her face before turning her attention to the three boys who stood staring at her with wide eyes. "Boys," Y/N greeted as she nodded at them. "It's been a while.”

"It sure has and damn has time been good to you," Richie flirted, throwing a wink to the girl who blushed slightly as she rolled her eyes.

"You sure haven't changed one bit now have you, Tozier?" Y/N asked, her smile growing while Richie chuckled softly.

"Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I've changed. In more ways than one," Richie joked, winking to the girl.

"Beep beep, Richie," Eddie hissed as he glared at the boy, instantly earning the attention of Y/N who smiled widely at the sight of him.

"Eddie!" Y/N exclaimed happily. "How are you? How's your mom?"

"I'm-I'm doing just fine, Y/N. Thanks for asking," Eddie blushed, surprised that she had asked him that. "And. . .uh. . .my mom's doing well."

"That's good," Y/N smiled before turning her attention to the last person in the group. Her smile was wide as her eyes flickered over Bill who was staring at her in awe.

"H-H-Hi," Bill finally managed to whisper out, both of them getting flashbacks to the first time they had met.

"Hi," Y/N replied softly, tilting her head ever so slightly as she looked at the boy. Bill couldn't stop the blush that was growing on his cheeks and he was quick to look down at his feet, smiling slightly when he heard the soft giggles that escaped Y/N's lips.

"Damn, Bill's already trying to get the girl," Bill heard Richie whisper to Eddie. Thankfully Eddie seemed to be thinking the same as Bill and was quick to whack the boy in the back of his head as he gave him a 'what the fuck' look.

Stan shook his head at his friends before clearing his throat to gain their attention. "We should probably get going if we want to stay at the Barrens for a while," Stan suggested, his eyes flickering between the three boys before landing on his cousin.

Bill coughed and shifted awkwardly by his bike before nodding his head. "Stan's right. We sh-sh-should go," Bill said and the others didn't object.

Not having a bike of her own, Y/N walked over and joined Stan on his bike, wrapping her arms around her cousin's waist before they took off along with the others. Y/N couldn't help but smile and hold her arms out by her side as she enjoyed the feeling of the wind rushing through her hair and the sun kissing her face.

It was moments like these where Y/N forgot about all of the problems that seemed to follow her wherever she went, her parents' divorce being pushed to the back of her head as a feeling of happiness took over her body. For that feeling as if she were flying and the happiness coursing through her veins, it was enough to make her feel like she was on top of the world.

Bill was unable to stop himself from looking towards the girl, a smile appearing on his face as he admired her. As if sensing his gaze, Y/N's eyes flickered open and she glanced over at him. Their eyes locked for a split second before Bill quickly looked away, silently wondering to himself why he kept staring at the girl and why she was making him so flustered.

Shaking his head, the boy quickly began to pedal fast, exclaiming, "Hi-ho Silver awaaay!"

This earned a round of laughter from the others while Y/N shook her cousin's arm and exclaimed, "Hurry, Stanley!"

"Your old lady bike's too fast for us!" Richie complained as him and the others hurried after Bill and towards their destination.

The Barrens.

- - -

"That's poison ivy. And that's poison ivy," Stan listed off, pointing to different plants as he did. "And that's poison ivy."

Y/N glanced at her cousin and gave him a confused look, but just shook her head and looked to the ground, not wanting to have to explain to him how not everything he saw was poison ivy.

However, Eddie seemed to be the only one to believe him, the boy's eyes widening in horror as he stepped away from the plants. He bumped into Y/N and gave her an apologetic smile before looking to Stan. "Where? Where's the poison ivy?" he asked.

Stan went to point at the plants again, but Richie was quick to dismiss the boy. "No where, not every fucking plant is poison ivy, Stanley," Richie muttered in annoyance making Stan's face drop slightly.

Y/N glanced at her cousin and gave him a sympathetic smile as she reached out and grabbed ahold of his arm, hugging it lightly. Stan's eyes met her own and he returned the smile, already letting Richie's words roll off of him.

"Ok well I'm starting to get itchy now and I'm pretty sure this is not good for me," Eddie said as the five began to walk towards the Barrens, ditching their bikes on the side of the river.

"Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?" Richie asked, glancing back at the small boy who frowned and nodded his head.

"Sometimes, yeah."

"Then you probably have crabs."

A look of pure horror flickered across Eddie's face as he looked to Richie who was trying not to burst out laughing. "That's so not funny," Eddie frowned.

Y/N watched as Bill turned his flashlight on before taking the lead and starting to journey into the sewers. The girl grimaced slightly at the sloshing around sound that followed as the boy walked inside, the smell hitting her nose and it taking all of her being not to gag.

She didn't want to upset Bill, so Y/N continued walking forward just behind Richie. However, Stan stopped short and since she was still holding onto his arm, she was forced to stop as well. She turned to give her cousin a confused look only to find him staring at the sewers with a disgusted look in his face, a tiny bit of fear evident in his eyes.

"Aren't you guys coming in?" Richie called out and that was when Y/N noticed that not only had her and Stan stopped, but Eddie as well.

"Uhuh that's gray water," Eddie replied with a shake of his head.

Richie gave the boy a look before scrunching you his nose and rolling his eyes. "What the hell is gray water?" Richie asked, sounding almost exasperated.

"It's basically piss and shit. So I'm just telling you. . ." Eddie began. "You guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee."

Y/N chuckled softly and looked away from the boy, her eyes locking on Bill who was walking further into the sewer. Not wanting him to go alone and knowing that Richie would be arguing with Eddie for a while, Y/N gently let go of her cousin's arm and slipped into the sewers.

Stan didn't notice her leaving until it was too late. He tried to grab for her, but Y/N was already walking away and Stan was too afraid to go after her, so he was left standing there with a frown on his face.

Y/N tried not to grimace as she walked towards Bill. As long as she didn't focus on the smell or the knowledge that she was in the sewers, it wouldn't be too bad.

"Are. . .are you serious?" Eddie questioned as Y/N walked past Richie who had picked up a stick that had been floating in the water. He began to sniff it and Eddie gagged.

"Doesn't smell like caca to me, Señor," Richie told him.

"O-O-Okay, I can smell it from here," Eddie complained.

"It's probably just your breath wafting back into your face," Richie joked making Eddie huff in frustration.

Eddie had to inhale deeply just to keep himself from yelling at the boy and only when he was calm did he speak again. "Have you ever heard of a staph infection?" he asked.

"Oh, I'll show you a "staff" infection," Richie said as he went to pick something up with the stick, neither him nor Eddie noticing Stan roll his eyes at the two quarreling boys.

Bill didn't even turn as he heard his two best friend arguing, the situation being nothing new. He merely rolled his eyes and continued flashing his flashlight towards the water, hoping to find a sign that his little brother Georgie had even there.

"That's so unsanitary," Eddie cried out. "This is literally. . .This is literally like swimming inside of a toilet bowl right now. Have you ever heard of listeria?" Eddie's voice was cut off by him screaming out as Richie tossed something from the sewer at him.

Y/N chuckled softly before finally reaching Bill's side. He was just standing back up with something in his hand and turned to look at his friends only to bump into Y/N, the two suddenly face to face. Bill's eyes widened at the close proximity, but it was like he was frozen in headlights and unable to move.

Y/N blinked in surprise, her eyes flickering over Bill's face. She couldn't help but notice the slight blush that was beginning to grow on his cheeks, but she wasn't one to talk since she knew hers were turning red as well.

"Did you. . .did you find anything?" Y/N asked softly and that was enough to have Bill snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. The boy quickly took a step back before looking down.

"Y-Y-Yeah," he whispered as he shined the flashlight on the shoe he had found floating in the water.

Y/N took a step forward, not really caring about how close they were as she took a closer look at the shoe. However, Bill did notice their closeness and he really hoped she didn't hear his shaky breathing or his heart which felt like it was about to thump out of his chest.

He had really hoped that after not seeing the girl for five years, that his old feelings for her would be gone. But boy was he wrong. Seeing her again just made all the feelings surface once again and if he didn't know any better he might've even said they were worse than the last time.

"Betty Ripsom," Y/N whispered out, reading the small tag on the inside. A small gasp escaped her lips as she looked up at Bill. "Stanley mentioned her once. She's the girl that just went missing not too long ago, correct?"

Bill nodded and Y/N took a step back as she let out a shaky breath. "Well, shit," she whispered, the sound of her cursing being so adorable that Bill couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up slightly.

Bill seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts of Y/N before looking towards his friends who were still crowded by the entrance. "Guys!" Bill called out, the three boys instantly going quiet as they turned to see Bill holding the shoe while Y/N held a hand to her forehead.

"Shit," Stan muttered, his voice cracking slightly in fear. "Don't tell me that's. . ."

"No. Georgie was w-w-wearing galoshes," Bill informed him, but that didn't seem to make Stan feel any better. Richie walked over to Y/N and Bill before taking a look at the shoe as well.

"Whose sneaker is it?" Eddie asked.

"It's Betty Ripsom's," Richie replied as he read the name written inside.

"Shit! Shit, oh god, oh fuck!" Eddie exclaimed as he shook his head. "I don't like this."

"How do you think Betty feels?" Richie asked causing Y/N to look at him. "Running around these tunnels with only one fucking shoe." The boy hopped on one foot and let out a small laugh but the others didn't laugh.

Richie looked to Y/N, hoping to at least earn a laugh out of the girl but she merely rolled her eyes at him and lightly whacked him in the back of the head. Richie gave her a shy smile and that was enough to make her let out a small laugh, Richie's smile instantly widening at that.

"What if she's still here?" Stan asked, his voice small. That caused Y/N and Richie to look away from each other and over at the boy, Bill finally pulling his gaze away from Y/N with a sad look in his eyes.

Y/N gulped before looking at the tunnel behind her. She then glanced at Bill, the boy's eyes locking with hers almost instantly. She seemed to be silently asking him if he wanted to do this and when he gave her the smallest nod in return, Y/N took in a deep breath before beginning to walk further into the sewers with Bill by her side.

Richie noticed the two moving and was quick to fall into step behind them, calling over his shoulder, "Eddie, come on!"

"My mom will have an aneurysm, okay, if she finds out we were playing down here," Eddie called out, his words making the three stop. "I'm serious."

Y/N couldn't help but think that Eddie had a point. If her parents were here they would be the same way. That is. . .if they even cared.

"Bill?" Eddie called out, knowing that Bill was the one calling the shots. The boy was hesitant to turn around, but when he did he found four pairs of eyes staring back at him, four lives that he was basically in charge of at that moment.

"If-If I was Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me. G-G-Georgie too," Bill said, his words making Eddie and Stan look down. It was obvious neither of them wanted to be here and if Y/N was entirely honest with herself, there was a part of her that would much rather be at the quarry than walking through a sewer.

"What if I don't want to find them?" Eddie finally asked, his question making Bill look at him in surprise. "I mean, no offense, Bill, but I do not want to end up like G-" Eddie quickly stopped himself before he could finish his thought and Richie and Y/N both looked to Bill who was trying his hardest not to cry.

Y/N felt her heart ache for the boy and she ever so slightly reached out before placing a hand on his arm, a small way of comforting him without bringing attention to his state or them. Bill clenched his jaw and looked to the ground while Eddie sighed from the entrance of the tunnel.

"I don't want to go missing either," Eddie corrected himself.

"He has a point," Stan muttered and that was enough to have Y/N letting go of Bill's arm as she looked to her cousin.

"You too?" Bill asked, a hint of betrayal in his voice.

Stan looked at Bill in silence for a minute before inhaling and saying, "It's summer. Y/N hasn't been here in five years and this is the first summer I finally get to have her back here again."

Y/N felt her heart drop at that, the sadness that her cousin had been trying to hide from her for all of these years he'd had to spend without her being hidden within those very words. She hadn't known he had missed her as much as she had missed him.

"We're supposed to be having fun," Stan said, his eyes locked on Y/N before he forced them away to look at Bill. "This isn't fun. This is scary and disgusting-"

Before Stan could finish what he was saying, the sound of splashing water had the five tensing up while Stan and Eddie quickly turned to look behind them. Y/N was quick to run back towards the entrance, stopping by Stan's side as he reached out and put a hand on her arm.

Their eyes widened slightly at the sight of a boy around their age flailing in the water. He tried to get up onto his feet only to fall again and it was only when Y/N squinted her eyes to get a good look at him that she noticed he was bleeding from both his stomach and his nose.

"Holy shit," Richie cried out as he ran over and stopped in between Eddie and Y/N, the boy looking up to them once he realized he wasn't alone.

"What happened to you?"

* * *

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