#if we don't want to bother washing it yet

[hanakoofthejungle]

HuskerDust Sinatra playlist (to be updated)

Given Husk and Angel's time when they were alive, Sinatra's songs would no doubt fall into their mutual category of favorites. I believe Angel would very much like Sinatra's crooning considering Sinatra's melancholy voice, him being also Italian and having alleged connection to the Italian mob. Husk spent so much time in casinos so surely he knew all of these songs like the back of his hand.

Below are the songs that I find would fit well into their inner thoughts and stages of their relationship. When Sinatra sang, he didn't just sing a song, he was telling us something from his heart which I imagine is what Husk wanted to say to Angel and vice versa (and there are duets :))). You will see that Husk was allocated more songs than Angel. This is because I firmly believe Husk is the more sappy and sentimental one in the relationship.

Who knows :)) these songs might inspire some fanfictions. Whatever you imagine, Sinatra can provide :)))

One song might have different version sung by Sinatra. The ones listed here are the most fitting in my opinion. These are all youtube links because some came from nice musical films/music shows and some aren't available on spotify.

The pining stage (sprinkled with some self-loathing/insecurity in case they didn't think their feelings were mutual)

Husk

These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)

These foolish things remind me of you You came you saw you conquer'd me When you did that to me I knew somehow this had to be

It could Happen to You

All I did was wonder How your arms would be And it happened to me

Half As Lovely (Twice As True) (or Husk's insecurity about himself being just a washed-up drunk while Angel could have anyone he wants, also mention of Angel's facade. This is the perfect song :))))

I'm only one of those who thinks of you and sighs, Just another who knows your laughter and lies. I wish that you were someone who was half as lovely, twice as true. I love you, I love you, too much it seems, for any fool can see, With your heart so crowded with other dreams, how can you dream of me?

Bewitched

I'm wild again, beguiled again A simpering, whimpering child again Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I Couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep Then love came and told me I shouldn't sleep Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I Lost my heart, but what of it?

Angel

I Don't Know Why (I Just Do)

You never seem to want my romancing The only time you hold me Is when we're dancing I don't know why I love you like I do I don't know why, but I do

I fall in love too easily (This fits Angel so well)

I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast I fall in love too terribly hard, for love to ever last My heart should be well schooled, 'cause I've been fooled in the past And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast

Glad to be unhappy

Unrequited love's a bore And I've got it pretty bad But for someone you adore It's a pleasure to be sad

Prisoner of Love

Alone from night to night You'll find me too weak to break the chains that bind me. I need no shackles to remind me, I'm just a prisoner of love.

The confessing stage

Husk

Zing! Went The Strings Of My Heart

Dear when you smiled at me I heard a melody It haunted me from the start Something inside of me, started a symphony Zing! Went the strings of my heart

Then Suddenly Love (I can imagine Angel kick the door open :)))

I never heard bluebirds, the songs that they sing, I never get crazy, not even in spring, Then suddenly love struck me like lightning, Love it blew up a storm, Love suddenly grabbed me, and ooh, was it cozy and warm 'Cause I found you, now I no longer just exist, Ooh, what a change, it started from the time we kissed

Angel

I Get a Kick out of You

Some they may go for a cocaine I'm sure that if I took even one sniff It would bore me terrifically too Yet I get a kick out of you

I've Never been in Love before

I'm full of foolish songs And out my song must pour So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in I've really never been in love before

Husk and Angel

You're Awful (A silly duet confession of love :)))

Husk: Those words that everyone knows But my thoughts gets mangled, And all the words get tangled, But since you asked me, here goes: You're awful, awful good to look at, Awful nice to be with, awful sweet to have and hold. You're nothing, nothing if not lovely, Nothing if not dazzling, nothing but pure gold, You're frightening, frightening me when you say That you might go away, You're boring, boring into my heart to stay. You're cheap, dear, cheap at any price, dear, Cheap for such a diamond, Cheap for such a pearl, What I said before, I'll say again, You're awful, awful nice to be my girl. Angel: You're old, dear, old with worldly wisdom, Old like Gorgonzola, old like finest French champagne, You're so-so, so-so, so-so kinda charming, So-so kind of witty, so I can't explain, Husk: Can't stand you, I can't stand you giving some fellow the eye, Can't stand you in the arms of another guy, Who needs you? Need you to distraction, Need you too this crazy, need you rain or shine, Both: I'm the one who needs you, And I think you're awful, awful nice to say you're mine.

The dating/domestic bliss stage (sprinkled with some angst/couple fights)

Husk

[How Little It Matters] How Little We Know

Who cares to define what chemistry this is? Who cares, with your lips on mine, how ignorant bliss is? So long as you kiss me, and the world around us shatters, How little it matters, how little we know.

I Could Write A Book

If they ask me, I could write a book About the way you walk and whisper and look I could write a preface on how we met So the world would never forget And the simple secret of the plot Is just to tell them that I love you a lot Then the world discovers as my book ends How to make two lovers of friends

That Old Black Magic

Those icy fingers up and down my spine The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine The same old tingle that I feel inside And then that elevator starts its ride And down and down, I go 'Round and 'round, I go Like a leaf that's caught in the tide

Too Marvelous for Words

You're much, too much, and just too very very To ever be in Webster's dictionary And so I'm borrowing a love song from the birds To tell you that you're marvelous Too marvelous for words

Polka Dots And Moonbeams

In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams Sparkled on a pug-nosed dream There were questions in the eyes of other dancers As we floated over the floor There were questions but my heart knew all the answers And perhaps a few things more Now in a cottage built of lilacs and laughter I know the meaning of the words? Ever after? And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams When I kiss the pug-nosed dream

Witchcraft

'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft And although, I know, it's strictly taboo When you arouse the need in my My heart says yes indeed in me Proceed with what your leading me to It's such an ancient pitch But one I wouldn't switch 'Cause there's no nicer witch than you

Dear Heart (Husk waited for Angel to come home from work)

Dear heart, wish you were here to warm this night My dear heart, it seems like a year since you've been out of my sight A single room, a table for one It's a lonesome town all right But soon I'll kiss you hello at our front door And dear heart, I want you to know I'll leave your arms never more

Husk and Angel

We Just Couldn't Say Goodbye

We thought that love was over, that we were really through, I said I didn't love her, that we'd begin anew, And you can all believe me, we sure intended to, But we just couldn't say goodbye. The chair and then the sofa, they broke right down and cried, The curtain started waving for me to come inside. I tell you confident'a'lly the tears were hard to hide, And we just couldn't say goodbye. The clock was striking twelve o'clock, it smiled on us below, With folded hands, it seemed to say, we'll miss you if you go. So I went back and kissed her and when I looked around, The room was singing love songs and dancing up and down. Now we're both so happy because at last we've found That we just couldn't say goodbye.

Kisses and Tears

Kisses and tears, it's up to you If we laugh or we cry through the years Unless you trust me, whenever a doubt appears Your future with me will continue to be kisses and tears You're crying again, you're sighing again Can't we patch it up this time? I guess it's alright, we've finished our fight It's just about kiss-time

Nothing in Common

Our two goals are apart as the poles are As lovers our roles are completely miscast Let's make a clean break And not take any chances 'Cause outside of thinking you're something divine And outside of wanting your lips close to mine We've got nothin' in common We've got nothin' in common at all

How Are Ya Fixed for Love

How are ya fixed for someone to watch the rain with? To stroll down the line with? For someone to just go a little insane with? How are you fixed for memories? Memories that shine so bright? If we let fancy take us We could make us a few tonight How are ya' fixed for someone who'll fit your arms like a glove? Hey, tell me baby, how are ya' fixed for love?

Bonus: Sinatra's Loser, baby a.k.a Here's To The Losers

Here's the last toast of the evening, here's to those who still believe All the losers will be winners, all the givers shall receive Here's to trouble-free tomorrows, may your sorrows all be small Here's to the losers, here's to the losers, here's to the losers Bless them all!

[pamesjatterson]

how my mom feels after assuming I feel some kind of way then getting mad about her own incorrect assumption

[rogueddie]

Stitched Together T | 698 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is sitting in comfortable silence together doing their own thing

"Do you still have my vest?"

"Hello to you too?" Steve says, raising his eyebrows when Eddie takes that as his cue to push past Steve, into his house.

He quickly kicks the door behind him, curling an arm around Steve's waist to reel him into a quick kiss. "Hello! My old vest- you got it?"

"I do- I haven't been able to get the blood out yet."

"Oh, I don't want it," Eddie waves him off, already halfway up the stairs. "Come on, I need to see it!"

"What- Eddie!"

Steve hurries up the stairs after Eddie, who takes them two steps at a time. He hovers at Steve's bedroom door though, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting.

It's then that Steve noticed the plastic bag that he's holding.

"You gonna explain?"

"In a minute! I need to see my old vest first."

"It's in my closet," Steve explains, leading him into his room and pointing.

Eddie immediately jumps over to the closet, glancing back at Steve before he opens it to make sure it's ok for him to dig through it.

It doesn't take him long to find the vest, face splitting into a grin as he pulls it out.

"Perfect."

"So... what's going on?"

"I'm gonna make a new one. Wanted to remind myself how this bad boy is layed out first."

"Oh?"

"I'll only need it for, like, a few hours. I can get it back to you by the end of the day."

"What? Wh- you brought your stuff here."

"Yeah, I'm gonna stitch it together in the van. I was thinking about going out to the quarry."

"You could- I mean, if you want to, you could just... do it here? If you want to. I'm just gonna be baking today anyway."

"Hell yeah. Any excuse to spend more time with you is a great idea in my book."

Eddie follows him downstairs, setting up on the sofa in the living room, while Steve continues past him into the kitchen.

Steve pokes his head back in after a minute.

"You didn't want to talk, did you?"

"I know how you get when you bake," Eddie reminds him. "I'm ok here. If I need anything, I know where everything is."

"You could ask-"

"No, I couldn't. It's ok, babe. Really. It's nice to just... know you're here."

"Oh. Really?"

"Really."

Steve goes back into the kitchen, but it's not long before he's washed the side, the bowls and utensils he used. All he needs to do is wait for his food to bake.

He wanders back into the living room, sitting on one of the arm chairs.

Eddie barely glances up, focused on his task.

He doesn't seem bothered that Steve is staring, so he just... watches.

It's surprisingly nice. Comforting.

He can see how much care Eddie is putting into each patch, taking his time when pinning them in place and being careful with each stitch.

By the time the kitchen timer goes off, Eddie has only managed to stitch two patches on and started on the backpatch.

He follows Steve into the kitchen once he's done putting his things away, just in time for him to start plating.

"Looks delicious."

"Mhmm," Steve grins. He pulls Eddie closer with a hand on his hip as soon as he's within reach. "You?"

"Got two done in the time it usually takes me to stitch on one, so, I consider it a win."

"Good."

He tries to lean in, pepper Eddie's neck with kisses until he caves the way he always does, easily following Steve up to-

"We should do this more often," Eddie continues. "Hanging out like this. It's... nice. It really is."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, reluctantly pulling back. He can't bite back his sappy smile though. "You're gorgeous when you get into your passions."

"Careful, Harrington. Keep talking like that and people might start thinking you're in love with me."

"Mmm, I don't know, they might be into something."

His attempt to kiss Eddie is ruined by how much they're both laughing.

Steve is pretty sure it's one of the best days that he's ever been fortunate enough to live.

[djarin]

hi i'm sorry to bother you but do you have any tips on giffing dark indoor scenes? yours always look so good!

hi there! not a bother at all :) i can definitely try to explain the steps i usually take under the cut!

this tutorial will assume that you already know the basic steps of gif-making — if you don't, there are lots of great tutorials floating around on this site that can help you out! :)

here's the gif i'll work with to explain my steps, the bottom being the original and the top being the coloured/brightened version.

before we start, a general tip i recommend keeping in mind: if you want to brighten a dark scene, you'll want to get your hands on the highest quality download you can find. 1080p is decent, but if your laptop can handle 2160p 4k hdr files* without sounding like it's about to explode, that'll get you even better results!

(*colouring hdr 4k files requires a different set of steps — the scene will appear washed-out on photoshop, so you need to make sure that you don't end up whitewashing anyone if you do choose to work with this type of file.)

since most of my downloads are 1080p, i'll use this type of file in this tutorial.

the first step of my gifmaking process with 1080p files is almost always the same no matter what scene i'm giffing. i make a brightness/contrast layer and set the blending mode to screen:

now my gif looks like this:

depending on the scene and how washed out it looks after this layer, i'll play around with the opacity. for this gif, i didn't touch the opacity at all. use your best judgement for this, because every scene is different!

i find that dark indoor scenes are usually tinted in yellow or green. one of my first goals is to try to fix the undertone of this scene before focusing on brightening it any further. i go to colour balance for this, and play around with the midtones, shadows, and highlights.

again, every scene is different, so the amount to which you use colour balance will differ, but for this specific scene, my goal was to neutralize the yellow. i focused particularly on the midtones and shadows of the colour balance layer, moving the scales to the opposite of the reds.

doing so will help with neutralizing the yellow. the only reason i moved the scales towards magenta and blue (therefore making it a bit more red than less) rather than green and yellow in shadows was because i wanted a darker contrast in the blacks. moving them to green and yellow made the overall scene more yellow since there were so many dark spots that shadows affected. (you'll see what i mean when you start experimenting with your own gif — this part of the process really just depends on your preferences!)

our gif might not look that much better yet, but it will soon! our best friend channel mixer is gonna help us out. for an in-depth post about how to use this adjustment layer, i recommend checking out this tutorial.

i'm someone who prefers to make more than one layer for the same adjustment layer for a reason i can't even explain (i just find that it helps me stay more organized). so don't think of this process like i can only use this layer once so i MUST fix it NOW. you can create multiple layers of the same adjustment layer, because every layer on top will affect the ones underneath it.

since my priority is getting rid of the yellow tint, i went to the Blue section of the channel mixer and increased it in all of the scales:

this step alone has helped us out so much, because look at our gif now!

not only does the background look less yellow, but so does izzy's skintone.

now i'm going to focus on trying to brighten the scene even more without destroying the quality. the levels layer can actually help out a lot with this.

the amount to which i move each toggle differs per scene, and i think experimenting depending on your gif works best for this layer.

side note: i prefer not to use the ink droppers on the side because the contrast in the result usually ends up feeling too strong for my preferences, but if you find that this works better for you, then go for it! basically, the first dropper with the black ink should be clicked before you select the darkest part of the scene that you can find, and vice versa for the third dropper with the white ink — click it, and then select the brightest part of your scene.

curves is the next layer that does fantastic work! unlike the levels layer, i do actually use the ink droppers for this. it's the same concept, with the first dropper being used on the darkest part of the scene, and the third dropper on the brightest.

try to think of curves as something that not only further brightens your scene, but also helps with the colour neutralizing process.

i grab the first dropper, then click the darkest parts of the gif that i can see. depending on the undertone of the blacks that you're clicking on, the tint of your gif might actually change significantly. this is why i prefer to click once, then undo the action if i don't like what it gives me. izzy's leather jacket was the sweet spot for this gif.

when i'm satisfied, i make another curves layer and use the third dropper to click the bright/white parts of the scene. for this gif in particular, the lights in the background were a good fit because they carried a yellow undertone — this meant that my curves layer actually helped to further neutralize the yellows in the scene as a whole!

(i manually dragged the curves graph upwards for the third dropper to make it brighter. i don't need to do this if the dropper does this for me automatically, but since the lights were pretty bright, it only changed the tone of the scene and didn't increase the brightness — hence the manual step.)

pat yourself on the back, because this is what our gif looks like now!

this is good, but it's not great — there's still just a bit too much yellow in the scene for my liking (sorry, i'm picky! :P)

i created another channel mixer layer and played with the toggles until i was satisfied:

ta-da! the gif as a whole is much less red/yellow now:

this is when i start fixing the colouring now — namely, his skin tone. selective colour will be your best friend here. i wanted to make his face just a tad brighter and less of a yellow-ish magenta shade, so i focused on the reds and yellows.

then, out of habit, i created another selective colour layer and took out more of the "yellow" in the whites to make them whiter, and increased the black (just by +1, since the contrast is pretty good enough already).

note: i switched to "absolute" for these two colours. basically, relative = less vibrant colour manipulation, and absolute = more vibrant/stronger colour manipulation. i prefer to stick to "relative" for fixing skin-tone since "absolute" can be a bit too strong for that.

our gif looks like this now!

his face looks brighter and much less yellow, so i'm satisfied!

this next step is not mandatory at all — again, i'm just picky and despise yellow-tinted scenes. i personally believe that indoor scenes that are yellow/green tinted make them look more dark than they actually are, so i do my best to get rid of these colours.

i also don't always do this, but for this gif, i just simply went to hue/saturation, selected the yellows from the drop-down menu and decreased its saturation.

be careful not to do this too much. depending on the quality of your download, this can significantly decrease your gif quality. i tend to worry less about this when i'm working with 2160p files, but again, those files require an entirely different set of steps when it comes to brightening/colouring.

since this was a 1080p file download (and one that was actually less than 1GB, oops, don't do that), i played it safe and decreased it by -39 only.

note: you also want to be cautious of colour-washing skintone when it comes to this step. i find that another selective colour layer can help perfect the skintone in case the yellow drains out of it too much, but skip the hue/saturation step if it's too difficult to work with — better to be safe than sorry.

anyway, this is the final gif!

that's usually what i do when it comes to colouring dark indoor scenes! i hope this tutorial makes sense, and if you have any further questions, don't hesitate to reach out! :)

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Fifteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: this chapter is literally just angst. complete freakin angst. two broken hearts that refuse to acknowledge it. pretty poetical. i know i said no love but now im not so sure.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"You're coming with me, Emily," you asserted, arms crossed over your chest, your eyes narrowing at her as she was lazily sprawled out on her bed, clearly uninterested in your predicament. "There's no way in hell I'm going alone...you can bring Michael."

Emily let out a dramatic groan, her hands instinctively flying to rub her tired eyes. "But...there's a Gryffindor party that night too...we'd much rather go to-"

"Emily!" you interrupted, advancing across the room toward her bed. You leaned against the footboard, your expression pleading. "Please, please...after everything that happened with Berkshire, I'd prefer not to go back into their bloody common room by myself...plus I don't even drink! Like I don't even know-"

"Okay, okay!" Emily hastily sat up, cutting you off as she sensed your rising panic. "Gods, you're giving me a headache...I'll talk to Michael about it..."

A sigh of relief escaped you, but the tension still clung to your shoulders like a heavy cloak. You spun around, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you as you threaded your fingers through your hair in frustration, each strand a tangible reminder of your racing thoughts.

Your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of worries. What should you wear to fit in yet not draw too much attention? How would you deflect offers of drinks without seeming rude or standoffish? And most pressing of all, how did you even find yourself entangled in this mess? The truth was, your inability to refuse others had led you down this labyrinthine path, a maze of social obligations you couldn't escape.

Emily's voice broke through the heavy silence, as delicate as the softest feathers--cautiously adjusting her tone now that she'd sensed just how stressed out you were.

"Hey, you'll be fine," she reassured, her words a gentle caress in the midst of your turmoil. "You're with Tom, he'll make sure no one bothers you, I'm positive of it."

Emily's comforting words washed over you, but beneath the surface, your thoughts spiraled into a tumultuous whirlpool. The past two weeks had been a stark contrast to the passionate chaos you'd experienced with Mattheo. Since ending things with him, your tutoring sessions had turned quiet, punctuated only by the distant echo of pages turning and the bland murmur of academic based conversations.

Although Mattheo continued to give you his full undivided attention in your sessions, the silence hung heavy between you, a reminder of the void left by your fractured connection.

And in the midst of this emotional vacuum, you found unexpected solace in Tom's company. The regular meetings continued, but they had expanded beyond the boundaries of academics. Flirting had entirely woven its way into your conversations, each playful word adding a charged tension to the air. Now, his invitation to the party on Saturday night dangled before you like a tempting, yet daunting, prospect.

However, regardless of his advances, your feelings for Tom were far from romantic. It wasn't love that stirred your heart when you thought of him, but rather a sense of obligation. The Guild, with its intricate web of social dynamics, demanded a delicate balance. To maintain your position, you felt compelled to go along with Tom's desires, to keep up the facade of mutual interest. It was a game you didn't want to play, but the stakes were too high to ignore.

As Emily's reassurances attempted to quell your anxieties, the knot of obligation tightened in your chest. The looming party represented not only a night of uncertainty but also a reluctant sacrifice to uphold your standing in the Guild. The weight of your choices pressed down on you, a reminder that sometimes, obligations could feel as suffocating as the absence of passion.

"Yeah," you responded, your voice a grumble underlined with frustration. "Talk to Michael and let  me know what he says... I'm heading up to the Tower, I just need some time alone."

Emily's expression softened, sympathy flickering in her eyes. "I'll handle it," she assured you. "Take your time up there, lots of stars to count, wouldn't want to miss one because you're rushing..."

You rolled your eyes at her snark, chewing on your lip to stifle your grin. "Yeah, yeah." You said. "Thanks, Em."

With a bleak smile, you grabbed your bag and pushed out of your dorm room, mind racing as you made your way up to the tower, the castle covered in its usual blanket of darkness, given it was already past eleven pm.

You thought back to that first week of tutoring sessions after you and Mattheo had called things off, how every moment spent in his presence felt excruciating. Sitting in such close proximity to him--being forced to look into his deep, intoxicating eyes, trace the scars that adorned his skin, and fixate on those perfect lips while knowing you'd never get to be anything other than platonic was a torment for your already aching heart.

For those initial days, your mind was a battleground of conflicting emotions. Thoughts of what it had felt like to have his hands exploring your body, pulling you close against his firm frame, haunted your every waking moment. His newfound silence only served to further infuriate you, although the reasons for your frustration remained elusive--you had wanted this separation, knew you needed it more than anything, yet part of you resented how effortlessly he seemed to cast everything aside, as though it had all been a meaningless fling to him, despite the amounts of passion you'd experienced.

The internal turmoil left you in a relentless tug-of-war between contentment and bitter disappointment. With every missed touch, resentment began to coil in the pit of your stomach. Despite yearning for the way he made you feel, your chest was a maelstrom of conflicted emotions. Gratitude warred with irritation; you were thankful that your life lacked complications that could jeopardize your post-graduate career, yet infuriated that Mattheo hadn't even tried to fight for you.

It stung, the way he seemingly dismissed you as though you were just another girl, another notch on his belt, disregarding the depth of what you shared.

Or, you guessed at this point, what you thought you had shared.

As you settled into the quiet solitude of the Astronomy Tower, the vast expanse of the night sky above became your sanctuary, the stars twinkling like distant diamonds against the vast canvas of space. It was your haven, a place where you could lose yourself in the mysteries of the universe. Surrounded by your celestial charts and notebooks, you immersed yourself in your research, the quill in your hand gliding over the parchment as you recorded your observations.

In the midst of your cosmic exploration, a sudden intrusion shattered the tranquility of the Astronomy Tower. Mattheo, his presence unexpected, settled down beside you. The mere sight of him sent your pulse racing, a rapid drumbeat in your ears. You shot your head around, scanning the surroundings as though you'd forgotten where you were, your mind racing with questions. Why the fuck was he here? The unexpected encounter left you beyond shocked, your eyes wide with surprise and curiosity.

"Matt-" your voice faltered, the surprise of his presence momentarily stealing your words.

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered, his voice carrying a weight of restlessness, as if the night sky outside held answers he desperately sought. "Don't allow me to interrupt."

He cut you off before you could regain your composure, not even bothering to spare a glance in your direction. His eyes remained fixed on the stars, his silence echoing louder than any words he could have spoken. The unspoken tension between you hung in the air, heavy and palpable, a reminder of the unresolved emotions that lingered beneath the surface.

"Um, okay." You cleared your throat, attempting to steady your voice, and resolutely returned your focus to the celestial tapestry above.

The stars glittered, seemingly oblivious to the complicated tornado of emotions unfolding below. As you continued your silent analysis of the night sky, you became aware of Mattheo lighting up a cigarette. His movements were deliberate, every flicker of the lighter, every draw from the cigarette, seemed to carry a weighted significance. Despite your attempt to ignore him, you could feel his eyes on you, his gaze like a tangible presence that bore into your skin, even without direct contact. The night stretched on, the only sounds the soft crackling of burning tobacco and the occasional rustle of paper as you made notes, each moment steeped in a tense stillness, waiting for something to break the fragile equilibrium.

And then, Mattheo's voice sliced through the quiet of the night, his question hanging in the air like a challenge. "What are you even doing?"

His question caught you off guard, a shock registering in your eyes as you assumed he was merely asking to mock you. Nevertheless, you gathered your composure, your passion for your research overcoming your initial surprise.

"I'm studying how stars and planetary alignments affect magic," you explained, your words measured yet enthusiastic. "The positions of celestial bodies influence magical energies, shaping the potency of our spells. Understanding these cosmic patterns is like deciphering the universe's manual for mastering magic."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, a hint of skepticism coloring his voice. "Stars affecting magic?" he said, his tone dismissive yet laced with a sliver of intrigue. "Seems a bit far-fetched, Raven."

His words hung in the air, laced with icy indifference, yet there was an undeniable glimmer of curiosity, a flicker of interest that betrayed his cold exterior. You met Mattheo's skepticism with a determined gaze.

"It may sound far-fetched, but it's already been proven that magic is intertwined with the cosmos," you replied, your voice steady. "The alignment of stars and planets creates unique energy patterns. Understanding these patterns can give us an edge in harnessing magic. It's not about belief, it's about tapping into the natural forces of the universe..." you let your words linger for a moment, finally dropping your quill and releasing a long sigh. "Why are you always so dismissive of everything? Don't you have dreams Mattheo, don't you have passions?"

Mattheo took a slow drag off his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly before he released a plume of smoke that danced in the air, curling and twisting like ethereal tendrils. His eyes, usually guarded, met yours, holding a glimmer of something unreadable.

"Everyone dreams, Raven," he said, flatly. "But life isn't a fucking fairytale, sometimes dreams are crushed before they're born."

Your silent reaction spoke volumes as you studied his face, the way his chocolate curls framed his brooding eyes, holding countless secrets within their depths. Mattheo's words slowly dug into your shoulders, heavy with the weight of harsh truths. You released a long sigh, the reality of his words settling in, before you cautiously spoke.

"If everything was dipped in gold, it'd never grow..." you whispered, your voice soft yet resolute, as you turned your eyes back to the stars. "And not everything sweet is sugarcoated, Mattheo...sometimes life stings, and you have to fight for what you want, but that doesn't mean you toss away the wand, does it?"

For a moment, Mattheo's silence hung heavy, punctuated only by the soft exhale of smoke curling from his lips. The tendrils of fog obscured the canvas of stars, casting a mysterious veil over the night sky. When you turned to meet his gaze, you discovered his eyes already fixed on you, their depths shimmering with an enigmatic intensity.

"Even stars burn out, Raven," he said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seemed to echo the somber truth of the universe. "Sometimes, there's nothing you can do but watch."

Something panged in your chest, a jolt of pain spreading through you as Mattheo's words settled into the night air. For another brief, fleeting moment, your eyes met, and there was a flicker of understanding between you. You glimpsed his lips, and he glimpsed yours, a silent exchange of unspoken sentiments.

Swiftly, you looked away, turning your attention to the moon, its silvery glow casting an ethereal light upon your face, silently gathering yourself as you fought off the heat that was swarming your cheeks.

"You know what I appreciate more than the stars?" Mattheo's voice cut through the night, a hint of intrigue in his tone as he finally shifted his gaze off of you. "The moon."

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "And why is that?"

"It's the one constant," Mattheo replied, his gaze fixed on the night sky. "Stars might fade, flicker, but the moon persists...it's just...there." His voice was calm, almost distant, as if he was lost in thought. "No drama, no shows...just silent influence--one that can pull an entire fucking ocean from shore to shore...that's a power that can't be diminished. Subtle, yet absolute."

You nodded slowly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the night. The world around you seemed to fade away as you felt your pulse increase, an unspoken tension hanging between you.

"Silent influence," you murmured, your voice thoughtful. "A power that commands without demanding, a force that shapes without shouting…I think it’s a potent reminder of strength in simplicity."

"Beauty, too," he whispered, his voice almost a caress. "A reminder of the beauty in simplicity."

The words danced around you, laden with prescribed meaning, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this conversation, something unspoken yet deeply felt. A vast silence filled the space around you, thick with a growing tension as Mattheo's eyes, intense and unreadable, locked onto yours, their depths echoing a multitude of emotions. You felt his fingers graze against yours as they were planted on the ground next to your thigh, a subtle yet electrifying touch.

At the feeling of his flesh grazing yours, even in as something as simple as this, your breath hitched, and a rush of heat surged through your body, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. After two whole fucking weeks, just as you’d finally stopped moping, just as you finally felt as though you could breathe without thinking about him, it was as if the universe itself had conspired to bring you two together in this charged moment, leaving you both suspended in a space where words were unnecessary, and the raw connection between your souls spoke volumes--his hand, touching yours, this is how galaxies collide, you thought.

"It's been two weeks since you've even bothered to bloody look at me, Mattheo..." you whispered, your voice trembling like fragile autumn leaves in the wind, scared to acknowledge the reality of your situation, but knowing you needed to. "It all meant nothing to you, yeah?"

Mattheo's gaze remained unwavering, his expression stoic and seemingly emotionless as he absorbed your words. His silence spoke louder than any response he could offer, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest. The pain of his indifference cut deep, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that once consumed both of you.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and filled with a restrained yet undetectable emotion. "Even if I said it didn't, would it really fucking matter, Raven?"

At his words, your heart rung, realizing that no matter how desperately you clung to the fragments of what you once shared, the reality was undeniable--the passion that once ignited between you two had flickered out, leaving only smouldering embers in its wake, and there was no reason for you to be upset over it--given that this was exactly what you fucking wanted.

Yet, with a heavy heart, you turned away, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon, searching for solace in the vast expanse of the night sky. You found yourself unprepared for the intricate complexities of your current reality--finding it amusing how your parents had dutifully cautioned you about the monsters lurking under your bed and the cruelty of schoolyard bullies, but never bothered to forewarn you about the captivating chaos that a disheveled boy with pretty eyes; ones that seemed to hold the fucking galaxies in their midst, and a demeanour infused with smoke and silver-tongued eloquence, would bring into your life.

"It would matter to me, yes." Your voice quivered as you confessed, the vulnerability in your words palpable in the night air--you kept your eyes fixed out in front of you, not daring to look at him. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, Mattheo..."

Mattheo scoffed, pulling out another cigarette, his movements deliberate yet filled with a sense of bitterness.

"You seem perfectly happy distracting yourself with my brother," he retorted, the words laced with a harsh edge.

Frustration welled up within you, your hands rising to your face as you rubbed the tension from your eyes, trying to find the right words amidst the chaos of emotions.

"Gods, you're unbelievable...that's exactly what ruined us, Mattheo," you said, your voice firm and weary. "Your constant issues with your brother, your need to control every damn thing... I just can't decipher your fucking intentions. Whatever 'us' meant, it drowned in the chaos you brought into it."

Mattheo's expression remained unreadable, a storm of emotions flickering behind his eyes. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke calmly before he finally spoke, his words weighed down by an unspoken burden.

"Maybe some things are just meant to drown, Raven." He said, bluntly. "You and I both know that."

You met Mattheo's gaze squarely, your eyes filled with hesitation and the weight of unspoken truths--his flat dismissal of your words bothered you, sparking irritation through your veins, but you couldn't drop his prior insinuation regarding his brother--it was time you cleared that up once and for all.

"For the record," you began, your voice faltering slightly, "I don't feel anything for your brother. I never fucking did. It was never, ever about him." The confession hung heavy in the air, your heart pounding as felt as though you’d revealed a vulnerable piece of your soul. "It was always about you," you added, your voice barely above an audible whisper. "I..."

"Stop," he said, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desperation. His body tensed, as if bracing for an impact. "Whatever you were about to say, don't say it."

Mattheo's voice came out as a sharp command, cutting through the tension like a knife through the darkness. His words lingered in the chilled night atmosphere, a heavy barrier between you, guarding his emotions like a fortress wall. Your throat tightened, constricting like a vice around your words. Each beat of your heart felt like a war drum, its thunderous rhythm drowning out any other sound.

"Why?" You hardly croaked.

"Because," Mattheo replied, his jaw clenching with the intensity of his suppressed emotions. "There are two fucking things in life you can't take back, Raven--bullets and words.“ he paused for a moment, inhaling a sharp breath. “Always make sure you hit what you aim at, and that you mean what you fucking say.”

Mattheo's words hit you like a tidal wave, crashing against the fragile walls of your resolve. The words rolled around you, creating a unstable bridge that stretched across the chasm between your bodies, threatening to collapse under the weight of suppressed emotions--and after a moment that felt like an eternity, you exhaled, accepting his now-hardened demeanour and deciding to just drop it, you switched the subject.

"I...I was just going to say...Tom invited me to the party in your common room on Saturday," you whispered, voice trembling as much as your fingers were. "I plan on going."

Mattheo's body tensed, his jaw tightening even further, as if to mask the rising anger within him. He avoided your gaze, his fists clenching involuntarily, struggling to contain the emotions surging beneath his calm exterior.

"And do you think that's a good idea?" His words sliced through the air, sharp and pointed, echoing the turmoil within him. "Have you ever attended a party here, even once?"

You shook your head, your voice barely audible as you admitted, "No, but I can't say no to him, Mattheo...I can't jeopardize my position in the guild. I've worked so hard for it, my entire educational career..." the desperation in your tone was palpable, the weight of your responsibilities bearing down on your shoulders. "It's rather maddening how quickly I transitioned from one Riddle capable of shattering my fucking future to another...it's like I can't catch a break."

The space between you and Mattheo sat heavy with unspoken words, an abyss of silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The soft glow of the dim light accentuated the shadows dancing across his face, emphasizing the muffled frustration etched into his features. Each puff of his cigarette punctuated the quiet, adding to the palpable tension in the air.

"I wasn’t planning on going to that," he finally replied, his voice carrying an unusual firmness, as if he was trying to convince himself too. "I quit all that shit."

Your voice caught in your throat, shock freezing your words as you tried to process his revelation.

"You-" you began, but he cut you off, his tone flat, devoid of its usual edge.

"Drinking, drugs," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of determination before he gestured towards the cigarette between his fingers. "These are next."

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of his decision. The man who had drowned himself in alcohol more times in one week than you could count on two bloody hands had fucking quit it all. It was almost impossible to believe.

"Wow," you breathed, your words laced with a mix of disbelief and exasperation. Part of you still rolled with disappointment over his absence at the upcoming event, but a flicker of hope dared to spark within you. "That's great, Mattheo...that's a huge step for you..."

Mattheo's silence hung in the air, his eyes searching your face as if seeking answers in the depths of your gaze. Time seemed to stretch, the weight of the world seemingly sitting heavy between you. With deliberate slowness, he blinked, extinguishing his cigarette on the ground beside him, never breaking eye contact.

"You're too good, Raven," he whispered, his voice surprisingly steady, resonating with a mixture of admiration and regret. "Such an angel...you should know, I was never unaware that you fucking saved me."

His words hung there, pregnant with meaning, as if he was acknowledging a debt he could never fully repay. The vulnerability in his eyes was a stark contrast to the usual stoic facade, revealing the depth of his emotions in that fleeting moment. Mattheo's gaze continued to bore into yours, his eyes intense as if he had stumbled upon something precious he couldn't bear to lose.

In a move so gentle it felt like a caress, his hand lifted to your face, his thumb tracing a feather-light path over your cheek. His voice, soft and tender, carried a weight of sincerity that resonated deep within you.

"Everything will work out..everything you've worked so fucking hard for will eventually pay off," he whispered. "I would have never deserved you."

Your stomach twisted, and your heart seemed to pound against your sternum with a deafening resonance, drowning out the world around you. You couldn’t feel your fingers or the cold or the fucking emptiness of your heart because all you could feel was him. All you could focus on was the overwhelming fucking urge to climb into his lap and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe, kiss him until the only thing embedded within the tastebuds on your tongue was his fucking taste. He is everywhere, he is everything--in every pulse of your desires and the depths of your soul, and then he whispered,

“I will be there, for you, on Saturday,” his voice was a low, husky murmur, filling you with warmth. “Just incase.”

And as he withdrew his hand from your face, the loss of his touch was like a phantom ache, a reminder of the connection you desperately fucking craved. His eyes, deep and intense, lingered on your lips for a fleeting moment, a silent testament to the desires that simmered beneath the surface. As he pulled himself up to his feet, he broke his eyes from yours, and with deliberate steps, he retreated, the distance between you growing--but just when you thought he would disappear into the night, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

“And to answer your question--yes, I have dreams…” his voice, laden with a mix of vulnerability and yearning, hung in the air like a fragile promise. “But they’re only good when you’re in them.”

——————-

Find sixteen->

[moniescove]

like him

snap!

"shit" is all jaemin can think as the girl he didnt even bother asking for a name peppers sloppy kisses along his neck. Her touch suddenly feeling nauseating as the flashes keep going off.

In a quick move Jaemin pushes the mystery girl off of him, hoping and praying that the camera was all his own imagination.

"What's wrong-" the puzzled girl starts before he cuts her off.

"Please just get out of the car I need to go." Jaemin says in a slur of words trying to get her out as quickly as possible. "But Jaem-"

"Please. Get out." Sternly he looks at her while unlocking his doors awaiting her leave.

"Ugh you're such a dick Na Jaemin." pouting the girl leaves the car and slams the door to head back to wherever she came from.

In the silence of the car his heart beats out of his chest before rushing home. But not before stopping at a flower shop to pick up a peony boquet. Your favorite.

•

Standing outside of your shared apartment Jaemin can only hope some higher power out there really can hear him and help him out. They just took the pictures, theres no way they've gone around yet. he tries to convince himself but being in this buisness for as long as he has, he'll be lucky if they aren't plastered on billboards right now.

With one final breath, boquet in hand as the other shakily reaches for the knob he goes in.

Relief washes over his anxious mind when he sees you watching television with nothing but nonchalance on your face as you witness the characters on screen laughing.

"Hey pretty lady" coyly he says as he approaches your shared couch with the boquet behind his back. Feeling relieved by the second realizing you havent seen anything yet.

"Hey Jaem" you say with the usual smile on your face. Skeptically eyeing him as he approaches with his hands behind his back. Finally standing in front of you he crouches down to land a kiss on your cheek before revealing the boquet he bought you.

"Aw you didn't have to babe." with a smile on your face you plant a kiss on a beaming Jaemin before getting up to look for a vase.

"Just felt like getting my princess something." Jaemin says following behind you before grasping your arm to pull you into his chest. Embracing you before planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Whats up with you today?" you giggle looking up at your boyfriend who can only grin back at you in order to mask his anxieties of you figuring him out. "Can't I just love my girlfriend?" Jaemin says before reaching in for another kiss.

"Which one?" you ask. His heart stops as the color begins to drain from his face.

"'nct Jaemin caught in car with girlfriend'" recalling the title of the article name as you look up at his aghast face. "I didn't know we went on a date today" you continue with not a single change in the smile you send his way. "From what I remember I've been here all day."

Jaemin's mouth opening and closing trying to form words but with no avail. All he can feel is guilt. In an attempt to save himself he starts "I don't know what you're talking about babe." he tries but fails.

"Jaemin" seperating from his grasp feeling repulsed you gulp down the lump forming in your throat. "Don't act stupid with me, I saw everything. The pictures the articles, everything." Unable to keep up the facade your face drops as your emotions finally come up to the forefront. Jaemin watches as your clear eyes become glossy with a blink, the way your face contorts into that of heartbreak and betrayal.

"B-baby you know those tabloids lie-" he lets out hesitantly trying to convince you to believe him as he walks towards you.

"Stop." finally the tears breaking through your eyes down your face all you can do is cry before continuing. "Please Jaemin, just leave I really don't want to play this game with you just please." All he can do is watch with unease as the one girl he shouldve loved and protected is hurting because of him.

"Please baby it was a misunderstanding, I don't even know that girl-"

"So all these years we spent together was worth a girl you didn't even know? Thats all we amount to? That's all I amount to? Because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants you decided to throw it all away?" through your messy tears you continue to break down. "You threw me away for a short high Jaemin." Throwing the boquet at his feet you finish. "I hope it was worth it."

Trying to push past his way Jaemin grabs your wrist. "Please baby I'm sorry it didn't mean anything." going on his knees to express his sincerity. Refusing to meet his eyes you attempt to pull your arm away to no avail as he brings your hand to his lips and lands a chaste kiss before sliding it to his cheek. "I know I fucked up please baby I promise I'll make it up to you." Jaemin continues to spill out to try and break through to you. All you could do is let out an exasperated laugh before finally looking at him kneeled before you with pleading eyes. The same eyes that promised you his future, the eyes that had all the answers you needed. The same eyes that threw it all away for a second of bliss.

Hurt and anger leaving you feeling nauseated as the tears kept falling down your face. You felt so betrayed that he could do this to you and so unabashedly beg for your forgiveness after crushing your heart like it was something as accessible as whats under his pants.

"You promised me you wouldn't be like him Jaemin. You promised you wouldn't hurt me the way he did." is all you could cry out without continuing to break down. And just like that Jaemin is left stumped trying to find words that won't come out, any word that he hoped would change your mind but nothing formed because he knew he lost you.

All the feelings of betrayal, insecurity, heartache, grief, new and old consumed you as the wounds in your heart continued to drive deeper with every aching memory that rushes back to you until all you feel is complete numbness watching the man who was once the love of your life hurt you in unimaginable ways. With not another word you turn around, walk out that door and never turn back.

[littlemelaninfics]

Ma’am I currently have covid so I’m chillin my room & was wondering if you could possibly take the time out to write some disrespectful dirty af smut for my mans Colby? Like make up sex type shet 🥵🥵😏😏

Thank you boo 💝

(gif not mine)

You tried explaining the whole way home that women gawk at him all the time and that you got used to it, but he's having none of it.

This all started at the award show we went to tonight. One of his fellow creators was making googly eyes at your cleavage the whole night and Colby took notice. What drove it home was when we pulled into the driveway and our neighbor Joseph made a comment about how we both looked nice, me especially.

Colby shook his head with his signature smirk and I knew I would have to be doing some groveling tonight.

Joseph has caused issues with us before as he's in his early 40's, a well respected surgeon with 2 Ph.d's, a Doctorate and easy on the eyes. This causing Colby to feel inferior when a "chode nose having, geriatric, Chris Hansen's most wanted grown ass man with an end of adolescence fetish" shamelessly flirts with you in front of him like he's better than him.

"Sam and I have businesses too."

"I know, baby."

"I'm fucking damn near 20 years younger than him and I'm well respected in my field, I'm with the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with, I have the best fucking friends, I've traveled, I've won awards AND I was Joe fucking Rogen's podcast. He is not better than me," he said looking you directly in your eyes.

Once his rant was over, you grabbed the sides of his face as a way to calm him down knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. This was 8 months ago, 3 weeks after you moved in

Tonight he walked through the door with a huff, not bothering to hold it open.

"Um, thanks. Dick." I called out to him when I stopped the door from slamming in my face. I saw him swallow some of what was in his glass before speaking for the first time in a long while,

"You love that shit, don't you?"

I stop in my tracks and turn to face him,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Them! All of them looking at you. One of which lives right next door. You fuck him yet? Is that why he's trying so hard to be my friend with that condescending, shit eating grin?"

"You're drunk and I'm going to bed. I already said I was sorry for my tits being on full display. What do you want me to do? Get a reduction?"

He brought his glass to his lips once more and raised his eyebrows.

"Fuck. You." I turned back around to stomp up the stairs to decompress. I take off my jewelry and shawl before unzipping the gown I'm in.

I walk in the bathroom and turn on the water. I go under the sink grabbing my favorite body wash and take a much needed shower. When I exit I see Colby undressing at the dresser, facing the mirror.

I know he didn't mean it in the slightest, but I'm still upset about what he suggested about my breast size so I decide to put on a show for someone who enjoys them in all their glory. Still in my towel, I saunter over to my side of the dresser and grab my favorite body lotion.

In that time, I notice Joseph's office light is on and the blinds are cracked. I walk over to our curtains and open them before sitting on the bed.

To anyone else, it looked like I wanted to let the city lights in, but he knew. They both did. Colby eyed me in the mirror before looking out the window.

Without a single word, he drags me along out to our balcony where the cool air heats up. He bends me over the balcony and slaps my ass. Colby pulls down my panties and inserts himself into me.

He grabs my neck and forces me to arch my back as he pounds into me.

"What's my name?"

"Dick."

He grabs my hair, “What’s my name, Y/N?”

“Daddy.” I whimper

“I can’t hear you, princess,” my body shudders and my pussy gets wetter as his grip tightens around my neck.

“Daddy!” I scream out.

“That’s right. Who else makes you feel this good? Hmmm? Tell me.”

I move my arm back to try to slow him down a bit, but he moves it away. I stand up straight and Colby wraps his free arm around my waist pushing his dick further up into me. My eyes roll the back of my head. He moves to my ear and I can hear his heavy breathing,

“Answer me”

“You, Colby! Fuck I’m gonna cum!" My vision starts to go dark and he chuckles,

“No you’re not, Baby. You’re gonna hold it like a good girl.” I whine at his words and dig my nails into his tensed muscular thigh.

He exits me and jacks off, letting my cum drip over off his tip. His head falls back at the sensation before making his next command,

“On the chair ass up” I go over to the chair and place my hands on the arm rests. He smacks my ass and I moan. My legs shake as I bite my lip. I feel Colby enter me again this time a little slower. Making me feel the length of his pulsating cock.

He gives that first good thrust, having my ass bounce back on him which only prompts him to smack it more.

“Daddy that feels so good” I stand on my tippy toes and arch my back further down.

“Bounce on me baby” I begin meeting his thrusts. He slips out of me, but immediately puts it back in getting my closer to my orgasm.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he plays with my clit making me shake.

“Can I please cum daddy please.”

“Hold it” he demands. He pounds harder and my eyesight gets weaker.

“Ugh daddy please” my body rattles and Colby cums balls deep in me. I can’t hold it anymore and I squirt over our feet, inevitably pushing him out. I scream out his name when he flicks his still hard cock over my soaking clit, dragging out the streams of ecstasy. I see Joseph's lights go off, but I don't care. I feel lips press to my shoulder blade with a slight bite and chuckle. Colby knows he won.

“That’s it, baby. I want it all over me," he smirks before sinking to his knees and lapping me up with licks and slurps. He stands back up and spins me around to make me taste myself. To my surprise, he spits the mixture of our cum into my mouth with the darkest eyes I've seen.

My knees go weak and I moan into his mouth. His hand wraps around my throat one more time,

“You’re mine don’t forget that," he says. Leaving me naked and spent out in the crisp Summer night.

a/n: there is a sentence that says Joseph is into women who are at the end of adolescence and and i just wanted to hat it noted that adolescence doesn't end until 24 years old

[unforth]

I had a day off yesterday.

And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.

I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.

There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.

My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.

I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.

I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.

So what did my day off look like?

I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.

I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.

Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.

I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.

Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?

Look at what my usual day looks like.

Look at what my day off looked like.

Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?

But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."

Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.

And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?

I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.

When I fuck up, I apologize.

When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.

This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.

I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.

I had a day off yesterday.

I might get one more before the end of 2023.

I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh

(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany

[reiluvr]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

small drabble of suguru realizing some thoughts he didn't know he had

i think this is fluff. pretty sure

someone please give me a good au im dying to write an au for the jjk boys

one day ill write something thats actually a story and not just a 10 minute ramble.

Geto Suguru has never once seriously thought about harming Gojo Satoru. Except maybe for now. He's aware of how his clipped nails dig into his palm, his bangs hovering over his eyes as he stares at the floor. His ears perk up and he resists the urge to summon a curse when he hears your small giggles after Satoru makes another one of his obnoxious jokes. He takes a deep breathe, lifting his head. He almost wishes he hadn't when his eyes land on how you lean against Satoru, his arm inching around your waist as you laugh. Suguru grips the edge of the bench he's on, a small voice deep in the back of his mind reminding him to keep his strength in check lest he splinter the wood.

Suguru loves you. You love him back. He knows this. Yet, he can't help it as his mind wanders. It's almost painful how hard he winces when his thoughts dive somewhere they've never been before. Was he...jealous of Satoru? Of course not! Satoru is his best friend. He's glad his best friend is the stronges- Oh. Suguru is jealous. His mind swirls as a sudden chill washes over him. Why does Gojo get everything he wants? It's all so easy for him, he can do anything he wants. Please, if there's a god out there, don't let him take her too. Before he can spiral even further, he's startled out of his silence when a weight falls onto his lap. He blinks, staring at your face as you smile back at him. Your voice seems small, or maybe he just isn't hearing well, his eyes trained on yours.

Suguru? We've been calling you for ages? Hmm, are you sick?

He shakes his head, clearing his mind as he mumbles.

M'fine. Sorry, what were you saying, sweet girl?

He doesn't even bother fighting the smile that pulls his lips at the way you avoid eye contact as he practically purrs the pet name.

Satoru and I were wondering if you wanna come with us to the store down at the corner of that weird CD shop. I know you were hoping to get the new album you always talk about, ah, I can't remember the name. Whatever, you can get it while Satoru and I pick out some party decorations at the store. Shoko said Haibara's birthday is around the corner. Oh! And also, we should probably get a-

Suguru is barely even processing your words, eyes hazy as he smiles and nods along to whatever you're saying. You're only brought out of your rambling when you hear Satoru gagging.

We going or no? I don't have time to stand around watching you two be all lovey.

You roll your eyes, hopping off of Suguru as you place your hand in his, pulling him off the bench as you drag him with you.

Sorry that no one wants you, Toru &lt;3

WHAT!? Everyone wants me! You know what, just wait till we're in the city, I'll get the number of the first girl we see!

As if! I bet she'll call the cops.

Suguru chuckles, shaking his head. He loves you. And he trusts you love him back. That's good enough for him. He tries his best to forget the unwanted thoughts in his mind as he lets you two drag him to the city.

[hyunjilicious]

[perv!bang chan x f!reader] and also [lee felix x reader but established relationship]

Summary: the 'there was only one bed trope' but with a twist, because there were more beds available, you were already in a perfect relationship with Felix, and neither of you knew just how head over heels for you Chan was (SMUT) 3k

Warning: obsessed!Chan, like crazy after you why-is-she-so-perfect!Chan, unprotected sex, fucking while someone's supposed to be sleeping in the same bed?? (😭), Chan's a bit of a perv so mentions of creampies, masturbation (m.), cum play, oral (m. receiving), hints of degradation etc. also unedited 🤧 18+ PLS

"I think I'm gonna go to sleep" you mumbled, jolting awake after the sound of an explosion ripped through the room. You rubbed your cheek against Felix's shoulder as a little goodbye, and prepared to stand up. 

"No, no, wait!" he called for you, hands still on the controller and eyes still on the enemies on the screen. "I'm coming with you, gimme a sec"

"Hey" Jeongin nudged Felix in the side, him too partially absorbed by the game as he spoke, "We just started this campaign, you're not going to sleep unless you find someone to take your place"

"Yeah, but-"

"Lixie, it's fine" you cooed, pecking the top of his head, "Play all night if you want, don't worry"

"Are you sure?" he asked, turning to face you only for Jeongin to snap.

"Dude!" he cried, doing his best to cover his lovesick friend, "Pay attention, we'll get surrounded"

"Shit, sorry" Felix resumed playing only for his friend to chuckle.

"It's ok"

"I'm gonna go now, ok?" you giggled and advanced towards the door. "Make sure to win!"

Despite turning his head to face you, Felix's eyes remained on the screen. "Good night, angel. I love you"

"Good night, Y/n!"

"Good night, guys. And good luck!"

After leaving their room, you stopped by the kitchen for a little snack, washed your face, changed into your pajamas and then joined Chan in bed. 

This wasn't the first time you, Felix and Chan all shared a room, but it was the first time it happened because neither of you bothered to think of the sleeping arrangements before renting the cabin.

With 4 double beds and 9 people in the group, Chan decided to take one for the team and be the one to sleep on the couch. And he would've done just that, had the living room not been the main hangout spot day and night - so that was why he was there tonight, in your bed, almost drifting off, because you and Felix were the most adamant about having him a decent place to sleep. 

"Hey, Y/n" Chan greeted you, only his eyes peeking from under the fluffy duvet. "Where's Felix?"

"Playing"

"Still?" he gasped, "It's almost 3"

Laughing, you got in bed under the covers, "I know, I'm surprised too. You're in bed before him and I.n. Never thought I'd live to see this"

"Maybe it's my turn to be an early bird, who knows?" he said softly, eyes drifting closed as the words left his mouth. The light was swiftly turned off, and silence settled. 

Truth be told, you were extremely tired and Chan sleeping so close to you wasn't a source of discomfort, yet somehow, your brain refused to settle into a peaceful sleep. You were used to sleeping without Felix due to your schedules, what you weren't used to however was sleeping without him when he was in the same building as you. But, with no plans for the next day, you settled for slipping in and out of consciousness, slightly amused by Chan's little snores as you waited for Felix to come to bed. 

At one point, during one of those little time frames where you managed to fall asleep, you were jostled awake by the feeling of the mattress dipping on either side of your hips. 

"Felix?" you mumbled, trying to turn around but the weight on your back kept you pinned into place. "Felix, what are you doing?" this time you giggled, knowing very well that no one else would be shamelessly kissing your neck like that.

"Quiet, love" he shushed you and moved on to attack the other side of your neck, "Mm, so sweet"

"Felix, what are you doing!?" you whispered - or moaned, smiling as you tried to pry him off of you. 

"Shh, you'll wake Chan" 

You were about to ask something, say something - mumble whatever, but then you felt it, "Felix-" you cupped his cheek, "That's your phone, right?"

"My phone's here, flower" he grinned and waved it around in his hand that was resting by your pillow. 

"What did you and Jeongin do?" you laughed, the feeling of his rock hard cock against your ass helping you awaken fully. You were ready to get out of bed, head to the bathroom, hop in the shower maybe, relieve the stress somehow, but he had other ideas. 

"Doesn't matter, all I know is that I want you now"

But you didn't get a chance to even try to stand up because his hand found its way past the waistband of your pants, under your underwear and to your pussy in record time. 

"Felix!" you whispered exasperated, "Chan's right here! Are you insane!?"

"He's fast asleep, relax" 

"Felix! He can wake at any moment!"

"Be quiet if you don't want that to happen" he groaned, and tugged down your pants without even the tiniest bit of help from you. 

Unable to suppress your lust induced grin, you watched him over your shoulder as he worked himself out of his own sweatpants, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing against your naked ass. 

"Quiet, yeah?" he more so demanded, but then refused to help you whatsoever. He knew what he was doing, pushing your limits - of self control, fed on the fact that Chan might catch you - his cock aching at the thought. And the fact that you were visibly on the same length, pussy wet and warm against his fingers, your heart beating rapidly under him, only fueled him more. Maybe you wanted Chan to hear you. It drove him wild.

Initially, he was going to work you up a bit, get you right where he wanted you with a few simple but experienced flicks of his fingers, but you were already there, panting and waiting. So, without bothering to waste any more time, he guided himself to your entrance and rammed his cock inside you, balls deep from the first thrust. 

"Fuck!" the whine involuntarily broke past your lips, forcing you to press your face into the pillow. 

"Easy, baby, like that" Felix praised you, his tone deep and raspy against your ear, as he started rolling his hips into yours. 

Knowing you should keep quiet made everything worse. Every single sense was amplified, you could feel his breath - hear it, hot and goosebumps worthy. One of his arms around your body, the other one right beside your head - his hand, gathered into a fist, and his silver rings having the faint light from outside beautifully roll off them inches away from your lips. He smelled pretty - chocolate on his lips and the cologne he always wore. It was bad, you were done for, because the second your mind wandered off and you felt every single little vein on his throbbing cock rub against your walls, you bit into your lips and cried in order to suppress your moan. 

"Angel" Felix threatened, "You're too loud, you'll wake him up"

"Felix-" you barely said before he slapped his hand against your mouth, lowered himself completely on top of you and fully halted his movements.

Only when Felix stilled, did you hear Chan. Wide eyed and terrified, you both watched him roll onto his back to face the ceiling - mouth slightly open as he prepared to resume snoring. 

You wanted to say something, but Felix's hand covering your mouth wasn't budging. "Think you can shut up, love?" he asked. 

Had you two been alone, you'd have dared push it and swear you'd be quiet, but with Chan stirring in his sleep mere inches away from Felix's dick which was balls deep inside your cunt, you didn't really need the extra adrenaline. So you just squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head against his hand, your honesty making him chuckle. 

"That's ok, I got you"

His tone was reassuring, he knew how to talk to you to keep you calm, but he did it on purpose now. He had no reason to be this sweet only to then resume his thrusting with no warning whatsoever. 

You couldn't call his name, you couldn't moan, couldn't cry, all that was left for you to do was sink - and drown under the weight of his body on top of yours. His thrusts were slow but deep and rhythmic, enough to drive you crazy, but again, he knew you. 

"Can you cum for me like this?" he questioned again against your ear. 

He knew it wasn't always exactly the easiest for you to finish, and he knew exactly what to do and how to do it in order to get you there, but what he didn't know was just how much Chan's presence affected you. He was about to find out though, and you weren't exactly excited for the conversation.

-

Oh, the dread. It was excruciating for him really, the anxiety making it all worse. What kind of a pervert just lays there listening - what kind of a man - oh, the whimpers. Fuck. 

Why did he think turning over to sleep on his back would be a better idea - less pressure on his throbbing cock, obviously, but his face was exposed and one long enough look from either you or Felix and his cover would have been blown. No one sweats that much in their sleep, no one breathes like that when they're supposed to be far away, deep inside the dreamland, unless it was a nightmare. But the more he thought about it, that was what this was, a long, painful and disgusting nightmare. 

He didn't know when it all stopped, when either of you finished. Chan wished he could've heard you, maybe also stolen a glance but it was too much, too risky, he knew he'd have never been able to look either of you in the eye if he had been caught. 

But once it was all done, once it was all over and you two had cleaned up and cuddled into each other to sleep, he finally felt free enough to turn around and face away from you. Now he could keep his eyes open and squint in pain as much as he needed, as just because his best friend was done fucking the love of his life, didn't mean his raging erection suddenly disappeared.

What he was waiting for was a snore, a loud noise which you'd both ignore, something, anything, to let him know you were both asleep and that he could get out of bed. 

While in reality it had been no more than 20 minutes since Felix entered the bedroom, to Chan it felt like it was already the last day of vacation, as if a whole week had been drained out of him by the time he finally reached the bathroom. 

He had never hopped in the shower as fast as he did now, not even waiting for the water to warm up. He just propped himself there, one hand against the marble wall and his head hanging low as he stood and cursed. 

He hoped the water would not only wash away the sweat off his body, but also the absolute obscenities that crossed his mind. The way he grabbed his cock was involuntary, making him hiss in pain from the amount of torture he had been put through.

It was him whimpering in the empty bathroom but he could only hear you, the way you breathed, moaned, and called his best friend's name. The water had barely warmed up enough to not sting his skin, but it was already steaming off of him. 

"Fuck-" Chan cursed, furiously pumping his cock in his hand. He did his best not to picture you there, kneeling in front of him, mouth wide open and ready to receive his cum. He tried so hard not to imagine what your cunt felt like, what it was like to grip your hair into his fist, what sounds you made when he hurt you just enough to make your pussy tighten around him. 

And because his mind was intoxicated and only god could judge him now, he couldn't help but wonder what your relationship with Felix was like - what talks you had and how much you had done together, because no random couple decides to fuck like this out of nowhere. How many times when you two had slipped away, was it actually so that he could fuck you? At the studio? When you offered to head downstairs and grab the food for everyone and Felix insisted he helped you? At Chan’s parties when you pretended to need a breath of fresh air? When you two would sleep over on his couch? Had he fucked you there? Chan’s cock twitched at the thought of you getting your cunt pounded in his bathroom, a hand clamped against your mouth so that he wouldn't find out what kind of a cock thirsty whore you were. 

"Damn it" he cried again, only needing a few more painful strokes to finish. Your name left his lips as cum shot out of his tip, wasting away down the drain. 

This was ridiculous, he felt pathetic. Usually when he got himself off alone, he was hit with a wave of lucidity right after. Not now, though. Now he was aching to go again. But it would've been useless, the shower didn't do anything, he wanted to cum inside you, on you, to see his cum on your fingers, on your lips, to hear you beg for it. He wanted to see you cry and choke on his cock, to see the little tears at the corners of your eyes as you preferred to keep his dick down your throat a bit more rather than breathe. He was fucked. 

But everyone was asleep, a ridiculously long shower wouldn't raise any suspicion - that was what he said to himself as he grabbed his cock again and went for another round. 

By the time Chan walked downstairs and into the kitchen, it was already morning. He busied himself around the cabin, made himself a little breakfast which he couldn't eat, and then buried his nose in his phone waiting for any of his friends to wake up. 

Seungmin was the first to join him, and not much time passed before the two of them decided to head out and get whatever other groceries would be needed for that day's lunch. The ride wasn't long and the local supermarket didn't offer the broadest variety of products, so the trip had been much shorter than Chan had hoped. 

When they returned to the cabin, almost everyone was already awake - the kitchen and the living space buzzing with life. It looked like just about any other morning, but some things that he was technically used to, bothered him now more than ever. 

Why the fuck weren't you wearing a bra? There were 8 men around you, why didn't you care they could all see your nipples? Why didn't Felix care?

"You two!" Changbin called as soon as he spotted his friends. "The food is getting cold, where have you been?"

"Shopping" Chan motioned to the bags. He placed them on whatever free counter space he found and started unpacking. "I already ate, thanks though"

"I haven't!" Minnie rubbed his hands together, "What do we have?"

Grateful for the positioning of the fridge, Chan kept his back at the rest of the room as he carefully placed the groceries inside the refrigerator. He looked normal, but he felt sick, and wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. As he did his thing, he carefully listened to your voice, breathing relieved as he could hear you talking about the fruits you just chopped. 

"Channie!" he neatly dropped the meat he was holding as you popped out of nowhere right beside him. How the fuck did he miss that? "Do you wanna try?"

Ah, you weren't wearing pants either. Sure, the shirt covered your ass, and sure, half the guys were topless, so it was probably fine for you to be walking around like that, but then why did his breathing get heavier. 

"What's-" he cleared his throat, "What's that?"

"Ice cream" you said. "I made it with Felix while you two were out. I wanna know what you guys think. We only made this little. We didn't wanna make a whole gallon of ice cream in case it was bad. So? Try it!"

"If you want us to tell you what we think about it, why won't you let us try it!?" Hyunjin yelled in frustration. 

"Eat your breakfast first, you child" you laughed and went to grab a spoon for Chan. "Here!"

"Ah, it's good. Damn, it's so good" his eyes widened progressively as the taste settled in. He went for another try, his smile widening as the ice cream melted on his tongue. 

"Really? It's good?" Felix beamed from across the kitchen, walking over as he dried his hands on a towel, "You like it?"

"Mhm! It's amazing! When are you making more?"

"We thought after lunch?" Felix nodded. "The guys said we should head to the pool this afternoon, so I think it'll be enough time for it to cool down until we get back"

"Do we really have to go swimming?" you cringed in disgust, your eyes begging Felix to reconsider.

"Yes!" he kissed your temple. He didn't even try to hide just how little he cared about your disinterest, which only deepened your frown. "I'm done with you not knowing how to swim. You promised me you'd learn. It could save your life one day"

You pouted. "What about Minho?"

"Hey!" the man in question yelled from the living room. "It may have taken me a whole week, but I can swim now. Doggy style, but I can do it!"

"Doggy style" Felix laughed to himself. "If Minho can do it, so can you, love"

"Well… when you put it like that…"

"Great" Felix beamed, and started walking away as he pointed at his friend. "Plus, Chan can teach you. He's much better than I am."

That snapped him out of his trance, god knows where his mind had wandered these past few moments. "I can do what?"

"Teach her doggy style" Felix chuckled.

"Teach me how to swim" you rolled your eyes, "Right?"

Fuck.

[xzhdjsj]

Iron on my Tongue

Isaac x Reader

Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)

Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character

@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.

They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.

I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live.  It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."

I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.

There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.

I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.

"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.

My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.

I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.

"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"

I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.

I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.

4:55

I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.

I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.

5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.

5:07

That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it.  I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.

It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.

There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.

Same as before, it rings but no answer.

I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.

The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.

I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.

The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.

“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”

I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?

“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.

I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.

They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.

I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.

“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”

“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”

I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”

“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.

“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.

It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?

Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.

“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”

I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.

“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”

“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”

“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.

“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.

 “Isaac, I love you”

“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.

“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”

Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”

“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.

“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.

We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.

I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.

I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.

I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.

I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.

[mochamvgz]

made with love.p.jay

; a warm meal with your partner was all you needed after a hectic month

; park jongseong x reader

; genre: fluff, non-idol au

; warnings: talk of exhaustion

; 0.7k words

; tags: @inkelea @sobun1est @kbookshelf

; divider cr: @plutism (i can't believe I forgot to credit them earlier 😭😭 if you're reading this i'm so so sorry)

you entered the passcode to your studio apartment, letting yourself in after being met with an affirmative *beep*

after carelessly tossing your backpack onto the kitchen counter, you miraculously managed to drag yourself to your bed, collapsing on it right away

thank god it's saturday tomorrow

that was the only thought in your mind at present. you'd had a hectic week—no, a hectic fortnight...or was it a month...? your pre-existing headache grew worse as you tried to recall so you gave up eventually

your eyelids grew heavy and just as you were about to board your train to dreamland, star lost by stray kids started playing from the front pocket of your pants. wait, no, that couldn't be right. pockets don't make sounds...oh, it was only your phone ringing

an annoyed grunt escaped your mouth before you checked the caller id. a tired but genuine smile speak across your face when you saw who it was. you accepted the call and put it on speaker

"how's my girl doing?"

you could almost hear the smile in jay's voice, which, in turn, made your own smile widen. "i'm feeling pretty wiped honestly"

jay knew that, he'd noticed the way your smile didn't reach your eyes these days, how your shoulders seemed deflated, the way you looked as if you could pass out at any given moment. of course, he'd be there to catch you if you did

"have you had anything to eat yet?"

"no...sorry"

jay had expected as much

"want me to come over? i can make you something to eat, and then we could cuddle or watch a movie or something"

"yes please, i could really use your cuddles. only if it's not too much of a bother, of course"

"nothing's ever a bother when it comes to you. i'll be there in 10. wait for me, yeah?"

you hummed in response and hung up with an "i love you" which he mirrored back. his soft voice when he spoke to you always warmed your heart. you dozed off thinking about how you truly had the best boyfriend ever

the clatter of pots and pans jolted you awake

you screwed your eyes shut as a groan escaped you, the blaring headache coming back. you heard someone cursing, probably the same person responsible for the racket that disrupted your sleep

sitting up, you began to rub your eyes when you heard a sequence of frantic footsteps, getting progressively closer, and then a pair of arms wrapping around you

you looked up to see jay with an apologetic expression on his face

"i'm soo sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I was trying to be quiet but..."

you mumbled an "it's okay" while hugging him back. after staying in that position for some time, jay broke the silence

"how about you wash up yeah? i'll be in the kitchen"

you noded, shooting him a smile—which he returned—before getting up and making your way to your bathroom

when you came back out, feeling considerably more rested and energized, you found your bed was made, and your previously-cluttered desk was much tidier. a smile made it's way on your face, knowing it could be none other than jay's work

jay noticed you as you approached the kitchen counter, his face lighting up

"you're right on time for dinner!"

"dinner? don't you mean lunch?"

he tilted his head a little to the side in confusion

"it's 7:00 p.m. sweetie"

"already??? have i been out for that long? why didn't you wake me up??"

jay chuckled, "you looked so cute sleeping, i didn't wanna wake you. plus, you seemed like you needed it"

"fair enough"

by then jay announced dinner was ready so you helped him set the table and sat down for dinner. the noodles he'd made were simply delectable. it reminded you of the way you used to make them with your sister. you mentioned it to him among other compliments

"well, where do you think I got the recipe?" he winked. your mouth fell open. no way.

"i literally love you so much"

"love you too" he replied with his adorable smile

© mochamvgz on tumblr | all rights reserved | do not plagiarise, repost or translate

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Do It For Him | Keep Quiet For Me | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You're on a family vacation but Jungkook wants you no matter the risk... Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 2.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an injury and blood, smuttttt and infidelity (but it's difh so duh lmao) and barely edited but yeah that's normal for me lmao a/n: This is response to someone asking for a drabble of in regards to my answer on this ask thank you to the anon/s that were interested in this and sorry it took so long to get out 😭 I was very very burnt out on this story so I hope this'll make up for it Series Masterlist

"Do you need anything? I'm gonna run inside and go to the bathroom" I whisper to my husband while we're lounging outside with the rest of the family. "No that's okay, you go ahead" he says and I respond with a quick okay and give him a quick kiss before standing up. 

"Actually" he say, grabbing my hand to stop me from leaving just yet. I hum in acknowledgment, waiting to hear his request. "Do you think you could grab me another beer? Take your time in there though" he says giving me a sluggish smile, telling me he's fully relaxed and that I should probably follow up that beer with some water. "Sure honey" I say, grabbing both of our empty Kloud bottles and heading inside. 

Walking into the house I first go into the kitchen to throw away the bottles but on my way I grab my phone out of my pocket to check a notification that came in but before I'm even able to turn it on I feel one of the bottle slip from my grasp and fall on the floor, smashing and scattering the glass all over the floor. 

"Perfect" I groan under my breath and start crouching down to pick it all up. "Need a hand?" Jungkook asks raising his eyebrows after seeing the mess I've made. "No I'm fine I can take care of this on my own" I grumble and continue to pick up the shards while Jungkook just stands there staring at me. 

"What do you want Jungkook?" I ask after a few moments pass by and realize he's been starting at my chest this whole time. "Don't you think that bathing suit is a little...revealing?" he asks as he continues to stare, not even bothering to look me in the eye. 

"Last time I checked I didn't ask for your opinion and I'm still not asking for it now. Can you please just go back outside?" I ask and go to pick up another shard but when Jungkook tries to say something else I grab it too quickly and slice my hand.

"Shit" I say and stand up and grab a towel to prevent it from bleeding while I walk over to the bathroom to wash it. "There should be a first aid kit in there" Jungkook calls after me as he trails behind. "I know, why do you think I'm going to wash it in the bathroom instead of the kitchen?" I ask, pointing out how stupid it would be to tell me something I already am aware of. I've got accident prone kids so you would think it was important for me to find that right away. 

"Right" he mumbles to himself, trying to stem off the irritation in his voice. "What do you really want Jungkook?" I ask, since there's clearly something else he wants. 

"What I really wanna do is fuck that pretty attitude out of you but let's worry about fixing that hand up first Angel" he says, coming up behind me and placing a strong grasp on my hips as I wash the blood off. 

"Real funny Jeon now can you just leave? I can take care of this on my own" I say, clumsily trying to open the box but struggling to the point that Jungkook just opens it for me. "I said I could do it myself" I say, glaring at him even though I know I needed the help. "Sure you could" he responds with a taunting smile. 

Rolling my eyes at him I sift through the products and find an antiseptic and a bandaid big enough for the area. I go to rip the package open with my teeth but he takes it out of my hand before I'm able to. "I said I didn't want your help" I reply but hold out my hand anyways. "I know but you need it if we want to get this done before you bleed out" he says, focusing on the task at hand. 

"Don't be so dramatic I-" "Shh" "Did you ju-" "Shh" he shushes me again and I let out a big sigh but ultimately let him take care of it. 

"There, all better" he says, throwing away everything and I moved out of the way so he could use the sink to wash up. "Thank you" I mumble and he pauses for a second, "Thank you? Where's that smart mouth from earlier" he asks while drying his hands. "I was in pain and irritated alright just forget it" I say and turn to walk out. "That's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I mumble and before I'm able to walk out of the bathroom he pull me back in. 

"What was that Angel? I didn't quiet catch that?" he asks, me now pressed up against the sink facing the mirror again with him pressing up against me. "I said that's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I say glaring up at him in the mirror before focusing on trying to push him off. 

"Get off of me" I say, pushing my hips back against his and it then that I can feel how hard he's gotten. "That's not fair love. I took care of you and I think it's only fair if you help take care of me" he taunts rubbing his dick against my ass. "Jungkook stop everyone is outside" I plea, trying to knock some sense into him.

"Jungkook stop we can't do this" I say, slapping his hands away when they toy with the tie on my hip. "Why not angel? As long as you stay quiet no one will know" he says, pulling on the tie and sliding them down my legs, now only wearing my bikini top and a small cover I had over it which he slides down my shoulders next. 

"Let's take care of that attitude huh? Looks like someone forgot who they were talking to" he says, sliding his right hand down my stomach and his left up to hold my throat. "Jungkook please sto-" is all I manage to get out before he traces a finger through my folds, making me shudder at the contact. 

"Looks like someone was just begging to get fucked weren't they? Look" he say, showing me his finger, already soaked in my arousal. I try to look to turn my head away, hating that my body always responds to him but he grabs my jaw and turns me back to face the mirror. 

"Nuh uh, you're gonna be a good girl and watch. Watch me fuck that attitude right out of you just like I wanted to" he says, sliding his hand down from my jaw to my neck, applying just enough pressure to remind me of the control he has over me. 

"Let's see if you can cum on my fingers first huh? Think you could do that?" he asks and I don't answer, not wanting to play into his games. "Silent treatment huh? Cute" he says and applies more pressure before putting two fingers inside without warning. I choke back a moan, shocked up the stretch and the slight pain it brings. 

"If you want me to be gentle with you then you need to talk to me" he says, applying more pressure on my throat as if mocking me. Daring me to say something smart but I don't. "Let's try this again. You think you can cum on my fingers princess?" he asks and I shake my head slightly, wanting him to just fuck me and get this over with. 

"Really? Because I think you can. Let's test that theory" he says before he starts pushing his fingers in and out, dragging them along my walls while rubbing his thumb on my clit, all while holding my head up and making me watch as my face starts to contort in pleasure. "There you go princess, focus on how good it feels" he says, pumping his fingers in a bit faster and adding a third once I've stretched out enough. 

"You sure you can't cum? Because from the way you're body is talking to me looks like you're almost there" he taunts, taking note of how hard I'm squeezing his fingers and how my legs have already started shaking. I let out a choked back moan in response and I just hear a dry chuckle from behind, clearly enjoying my struggle in trying to keep quiet and he doesn't let up at all. 

"You're being stubborn aren't you? Trying to prove that I have to work harder to make you cum?" he growls in my ear as I continue to hold myself back, defying his claims and just waiting for him to fuck me and get it over with. 

"Fine since you want this cock so much then why don't you beg for it?" he says while taking out his cock and dragging them up and down my folds, making me purr at the sensation. 'Shit no I cannot give him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm enjoying this fuck!' 

"What was that?" he taunts, giving me a smug smile through the mirror which makes me look away again. He grabs my jaw roughly and brings my face back over again. "What was that princess? You like that?" he says doing it again, making my knees want to give out under me but he steadies me on my feet. 

"Something as simple as this is making you feel like that? Angel was sensitive now wasn't she? Just begging to get fucked and didn't know how to ask for it" he says and presses on my back making my cheek press up against the glass, my breath fogging up the mirror as he lines himself up, giving up on making me beg since we need to finish up fast before anyone notices. 

He pushes in without any notice leaving me biting down on my lip to muffle to sound but it only does so much. He inches inside of me giving me the smallest amount of time to adjust before he's bottomed out. 

"Look at you, such a dirty little slut letting me fuck you in here. Take you from behind while you watch us in the mirror. Is that something that turns you on Angel?" and at that my body betrays me and squeezes his cock, giving him the answer that he already knew would be true. "Fuck, you're incredible" he says, raking his eye up my form before meeting them in the mirror. 

"Keep quiet for me yeah? Wouldn't want anyone to know that you're taking my cock so well while your husband is outside now would we?" he says, trailing his hand up my back and finally untying the last two ties that are keeping my top on. "Or don't. I would love for them to hear what you sound like while you scream my name and beg for more but I don't think you want that now do you Princess?" he asks while placing a kiss on my neck. 

"N-no" I stutter out, knowing better than to not respond this time. He reaches his arm around and pulls me back up with his hand on my throat and makes me make eye contact with him through the mirror. "Then be good and cum on this cock. Can you do that?" he questions and I nod, not trusting my voice this time with the way he's rubbing up against my walls at this angle. 

He lets go of my throat and leaves me reaching out my arms to brace myself, my knuckle white from how hard I'm holding on and seconds later he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before slamming into me, making me go on my tip toes from the force. He drills into me unapologetically while watching my face contort in pleasure through the mirror. 

I can't hold back and I end up letting out barely audible whimpers while he continues to abuse my aching cunt, already close to release. "Fuck Angel loosen up I can barely move" he grunts while I grip his dick so well, seconds from tipping over. "Cum" he growls in my ear and that's the last push I need to lose myself in the feeling, letting out a choked back sob and squirting all over him. 

"Shit" he grunts and picks up the pace of his thrusts, fucking me through my high and tipping himself over to reach his a minute later and he grabs onto my throat again, his other hand on my hip thrusting a few more times until he's spent and both of our releases are dripping out of me. 

"Fuck Princess I didn't know you could squirt" he says while roaming his hands up and down my body, touching me as much as he can before I push him off seconds later when that post nut clarity hits.

"Get out" I choke out, trying to calm myself down and bring my breathing back down to normal. "See you soon love" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before walking out. Not bothering to look around to see if anyone might see him leaving.  

I take a deep breath and turn on the shower, getting in and not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, letting myself deal with the chill it brings to my warm skin.

Standing with my face under the stream I try to drown out all the memories of what just happened and how I just let him do that to me. Why do I always just let him get his way? 

I can't keep doing this. I have to tell someone because this secret is suffocating me. 

If I keep it in much longer I don't know what'll become of the person I once was. 

I need to stop this, everything just needs to stop.   

Read the series from the beginning

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[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

I Still Love You.

Okay, hi, yes, I am real, I do exist haha, anyway, I'm suffering in college but I miss writing for my cowboy so I'm gonna try to do some magic with this prompt from the lovely @photo1030 about our cowboy and us getting into a fight, the first fight, after they start dating.

SO

Let us start!

Warnings: Arguing obviously, swearing, Arthur feeling bad, you feeling bad, female reader, possibly 18+ themes. Modern Arthur AU

Definitely maybe projecting a little bit of myself into Y/N here but we aren't gonna mention that.

Also don't you dare make fun of me I haven't wrote much recently so my noggin doesn't work, all I know is homework

You scoffed, continuing to wash the dishes in your sink as you listen to Arthur rambling on, trying to make you 'see reason' as he put it.

Usually you couldn't find a single thing wrong with Arthur. For the most part he was the perfect man. Of course, he had his flaws, as all humans do, but you guys had NEVER had a fight before, but lately...you couldn't help but fume at him.

He was just....You loved him, and you loved being around him and typically nothing about him bothered you but....

You couldn't help it.

He was just so damn...Stubborn! All the time!

No matter what, he always had to be right. Doesn't matter exactly what it's about, but he has to be right, even if it's something that YOU know more about.

"Jus' listen to me Darlin', it'll be so much easier for us to do this if we jus'-"

"I told you Arthur, that's not it, that's not gonna work!"

You sigh and turn around, leaning on the lip of the sink, your arms crossed as you look at him.

"You know, JUST as much as I do, that if we want to move in together at some point that we should invest in a place for BOTH of us, not just me moving in with you or you moving in with me."

"It'll save us money if you jus' move in with me-"

"And it'll save our relationship if I don't feel like I'm a visitor in a place that I didn't purchase. That's YOUR apartment, with YOUR decorations, YOUR pots and pans, YOUR shower curtains, EVERYTHING is yours, and even if I brought some of my stuff in, it's not MY place or OUR place-"

"So now our relationship needs savin'?"

He snorts and copies your body language, crossing his own arms as he stares down at you.

"You livin' with me, regardless as to if it's at your house or my apartment is the same as us buyin' a place together, and our relationship is just fine, it don't NEED savin'. At least I didn't think it did until ya said that."

"Oh my god, you are such a stubborn jackass."

You grind your teeth, standing up straight.

"It doesn't need saving, not YET. Arthur, a place of our own, together, would be better for the both of us, and you KNOW that."

"We would save much more money if we just moved in to one of the places we ALREADY own-"

"That wouldn't be OURS-"

"We would MAKE it OURS darlin'-"

"Arthur, why can't you understand-"

"Why can't YOU understand, I'm tryin' to save us money in the long run, money we can use to save up and buy a house later down the line, when we need one."

"Jesus, Arthur! How am I supposed to even move in with you in the first place when all you can do is try to prove you're right about everything all the damn time!"

You throw your hands up in defeat.

"You just have to always, always, always be right, don't you? You can't just understand or accept that someone else MIGHT be right!"

"You know damn well that ain't true!"

Arthur stands straight himself, putting his hands on his hips.

"I ain't tryin' to prove shit!,"

He pokes you in the chest, right under your collarbone

"I'm TRYIN' to make things easier on us! I'm tryin' to do somethin' good for the woman I love, but clearly you ain't very appreciative about it!"

"I would be, if you didn't always have to be so damn pushy, always 'oh well actually we should do this its smarter' shut UP Arthur, shut UP. It's not always your way or the highway!"

You smack his hand away, scowling at him as he shakes his hand and puts it back on his hip.

"You know how awful, how fucking stupid you make me feel, all the time!? Even when I'm RIGHT, you make me feel stupid because there's always some other way that we can do things that you always deem 'better'. What is it? You just don't like the fact that I can do things? That SOMETIMES, I have good ideas?"

"What? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"You know what I'm talking about-"

"I don't!"

He groans in frustration and moves to your fridge, opening it to get a beer out.

"Oh, and you're gonna help yourself to my drinks too, right? That I paid for?"

"This ain't even yours! I bought these, I brought 'em over for me when I visit! You don't even like this brand, hell you drink them fuckin' fruity drinks, the what....the Smirnoff or whatever the fuck it is."

He pops the bottle cap off.

"'Sides, what's the matter? You ain't never been upset about sharin' with me before."

"It's not the point!"

You groan and move past him into the living room.

"The point is Arthur, you always have to be right. Always. You make me feel like an idiot. Even if I know something more than you. Hell you'd tell me I was wrong if I was talking about what I majored in, in college."

"Oh I would not-"

He states, following you into the living room.

"You just did it again! Just there!"

"I ain't doin' shit!"

"AND AGAIN!"

Arthur gives a huff and puts his drink down on the coffee table, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand.

"Look, Darlin', all I'm sayin' is, if we make a budget and live together at my place, or at yours, we can save up money, and EVENTUALLY get a place together. a NICE place. A GOOD place, that's big enough for us, and what I HOPE is eventually our family."

"Why can't we buy a place that's already a good place?"

"You have to have MONEY Y/N!"

Arthur closes his eyes briefly, and crosses his arms again.

"Christ, Y/N do you ever fucking listen?"

"Oh like you're any better-"

"I am!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

The two of you stare at one another, fuming, both of you clenching your jaws.

"Get out."

You murmur softly.

"Get out and go home."

"Really? You're gonna kick me out?"

"Yes, go!"

Arthur stares at you for a moment, and then moves around the couch and takes a seat, kicking his feet up on the coffee table after grabbing his beer.

"No. Not until we talk this through. I ain't lettin' either one of us walk away angry."

You angrily groan and turn away from him, going to your bedroom. You slam the door shut behind you and lock it.

You take the time to breathe, putting your hands through your hair, trying to keep yourself from being too angry.

You move to your bed and take a seat, letting yourself think.

Granted, yes, neither of you had been extremely awful to one another, but you had said some pretty mean things, and after sitting there for about twenty minutes you started to spiral.

That was a dick move of you. A dick move of him too but...what if....

You shouldn't have said anything like that to him, calling him a stubborn jackass, telling him to fuck off, you shouldn't have said those things.

You think it over more and more, and the longer you think about it, the guiltier you feel.

Accusing him of taking your food, when you always share your stuff with him anyway, intentionally starting a fight basically.

Its another ten minutes of thinking about how you'd yelled at him, and then you can't take it.

You unlock your door and come out to find Arthur still on the couch, his arms crossed as he looks up at you.

"You done throwin' a temper tantrum, Y/N?"

You go to speak and surprisingly you find yourself choked up.

"I'm...I...I'm sorry, Arthur I..."

You can feel yourself beginning to tear up and you try to wipe your eyes without it being too obvious, but Arthur was able to see it clearly.

"Woah, hey-"

He's quick to get up and move to you, taking your face in his hands.

"Whatchu cryin' for Darlin'? It ain't that big a deal, it's jus' a spat, that's all..."

He keeps his voice hushed, doing his best to try and soothe you.

You just can't help but feel...absurdly guilty, and all the sudden, worried.

"You aren't gonna run away from me, are you?"

You question, looking up at him.

"You aren't gonna leave me?"

"What? What on earth, no!"

He pulls you closer, bringing your head to his chest, wrapping an arm around your head.

"Jesus, Sweetheart no, I'm not leavin' you, it ain't that big a deal, it ain't that bad...it was just a little spat, an argument, couples have 'em all the time...."

He murmurs, and quietly kisses the top of your head.

"I shouldn't have called you a jackass, and I shouldn't have told you to fuck off, and I'm sorry-"

You ramble on, hugging yourself tightly to him.

"I'm really happy you want me to move in with you, I want to move in with you, I love you, I don't mean anything, I don't want you to back out of it, I don't wanna push you away-"

"Darlin', Y/N, please, calm down, okay, sit with me."

He gently guides you to the couch and sits with you, still holding you close to him.

"Sweetheart, I'm not breaking up with you, you haven't pushed me away, and you certainly aren't gonna cause me to back out."

He chuckles quietly and kisses your head again.

"It's just a little argument. That's all it is, that's it. It's nothin' to break us up over. Couples have fights all the time, it's alright."

"I know..."

You breathe out quietly, his voice was certainly soothing you.

Pulling away from him, you look up at him.

"I am sorry though, I am. I shouldn't have said those things....We should talk, seriously talk, take a minute, and CALMLY talk about the whole housing thing we want to do, I don't wanna argue about it anymore..."

"Sweetheart, it's okay, really it is."

He smiles and takes your hand.

"We can sit and talk, that's okay, but you don't have to apologize, I do. Alright? You're right, I tend to try and prove I'm right, and that ain't fair....So we'll talk, okay?"

He smiles at you, and he brushes some of your hair away from your face, looking you in the eyes as he does. That little smile of his is always enough to make your heart melt, and in this case it does plenty to soothe those worries that had so easily snuck up on you.

"Honey, it's alright...really, I mean that."

You nod and breathe quietly.

"I am still sorry Arthur."

"So am I, but I promise...nothing bad is gonna happen between us, okay, nothing."

He smiles.

"Well, good things will." He adds, and chuckles quietly. "We'll sit down and talk, and for tonight-"

He moves, and puts his finger under your chin, making you look up at him.

"I'm gonna take care of you, alright? I'm gonna make sure, you have a good time tonight, we'll have a movie night, and I will make dinner, you're favorite even."

You can't help but chuckle and lean in, kissing him softly.

"Thank you, thank you Arthur, I love you so much and I'm so...so sorry again."

"Stop sayin' sorry, okay? We're both idiots."

That makes you chuckle, and you lean your head against his shoulder, scooting closer.

It was a good feeling, knowing that if you had further arguments, which, you would, as couples do, you could work things out....that he wasn't going to abandon you.

He's a good man, and you...are good too.

[yandere-sins]

How would it be if blade's darling had wanted to contact him, though? Maybe to try and talk about things? They probably wouldn't know about the mind reset kafka does, so when they try to contact him to set up a meeting they think he remembers them.

Oh my god, that just gave me the sweetest of images! Some yandere's love is just so pure, I swear ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Blade didn't really know why he reacted so fast to the unknown sound.

He usually didn't get bothered by that thing in his pocket, a device Kafka made him walk around with, telling him to check it regularly. It pling! and dundun! all day long, notifications appeared on its screen that he didn't usually react to unless someone mentioned him by name. Why would he? He knew his mission; there was no need to be in constant contact with the others.

Bing!

And yet, when a new sound rang in his ears, one he hadn't heard before, Blade stopped dead in his tracks. The guy he was hunting hurdled away, crawling through the pools of blood on the floor while the rain washed away the evidence of battle. Holding his bloody stomach, he watched the Hunter reach into his pocket, picking up his phone, unbothered by the massacre in front of him, almost as if he forgot about his target that took the chance to scramble to his feet, running for his dear life.

Blade gazed at the bright screen, his eyes hurting, but he didn't even notice the pain as he read the latest banner that notified him of a message.

we need to talk

The hairs at the back of his neck stood straight as he read those four words. Blade's mouth ran dry while his breathing stopped. As if he had to hear better, every one of his motions ceased, and the sounds of the constant traffic in the distance vanished. He felt fury build up as raindrops landed on his screen, the words vanishing. Yet he didn't understand why.

Bing! Bing!

He flinched. Even a second time and repeated, this sound differed from when Kafka or Silver Wolf tried to contact him. He didn't remember it ever ringing out before. A slight shake of nervousness went through him, followed by a spark of excitement. Before he knew it, he was reading the message—eager, desperate.

[Location sent]  meet me here tonight, we really have to talk. i want this to end, you have to...

The message preview stopped there, and Blade snapped out of his trance. Slowly, his eyes trudged to the sender's name, but it was only a culmination of unfamiliar numbers. He looked at the time next, and with a twinge of disappointment, he realized it was early noon at best. A shaky breath escaped him, and for the first time since he got the notifications, he looked up into the dark alleyway before him.

It was quiet, no more breathing of his enemies. Yet, he could hear his own blood pounding in his ears and feel the desperate grip on the sword he still clutched onto. It had not been drenched in the blood of his target completely, yet, he didn't feel the yearning of finishing a job.

Instead, Blade felt compelled to go.

Where to, he didn't know. Somewhere, or precisely, where he should go, but he had never opened the message he received with the location. All he knew was that he had to go there. His legs moved on their own, steps splashing in the wet puddles on the ground. By the time he walked out onto the busy street, his sword had vanished, but not that feeling of urgency pushing him forward.

What were those feelings? Why did they keep aggravating him so? His head hurt as the lights of the cars flashed by him, taking in every moment of his pain. He should stop. He had to call Kafka. Something was wrong, and although he couldn't pinpoint it, it would be dangerous to continue on this unfamiliar path on his own.

Reaching into his pocket, he felt the little device vibrate against his fingers, followed by the now-more familiar Bling! he began to dread yet anticipate at the same time.

don't chicken out this time! just come and let's talk... i know you can see my messages

Staring at the message for a moment, he let the phone sink back into his pocket, never bothering to reply. You knew he was going to come, and he would. He wouldn't miss it for anything in this world.

You?

Who?

His legs carried him onwards into the unknown, but something told him that he knew exactly where he could find you, even if he didn't remember. Something inside him knew, and this feeling grew and grew stronger until it robbed him of any reason. There was a pull on him so strong, he couldn't help but pursue it—hunt it.

You, whoever you are, were his next target, and he had to have you. All to himself. Pressed against his marred body, engulfed by his shadow, never to be seen by anyone else again. Never to be touched unless it were his fingers resting gently against your skin, and never to be tasted unless it was on his lips and tongue. If he must devour you to have you all to himself, he would. And he would tear you down and ruin you to the point that no one would dare to take his prey away from him.

Blade had to have you. Savagely, violently. All to himself.

He didn't know who you were or what you wanted from him. Why you contacted him, or how you even knew about this pitiful creature with a heart beating so fast that he felt real fear for its safety inside of him. But he'd find you, have you, and destroy you.

And he couldn't wait to meet you.