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mixtape-racha · 1 year

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should i stay or should i go | hwang hyunjin

who knew the quiet girl in the back of the algebra classroom, and the campus's golden boy would have so much in common? // minors dni, 18+

words: 4.3k // warnings: camboy!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, dom!hyunjin, oral (f. recieving), tiny hint to orgasm control, protected piv, "sir" and "princess", recorded sex, illusions to aftercare, reader is kind of a brat and teases hyunjin at first, hinted multiple rounds, slight degradation but mostly praise

“g’night, guys. dream of me!” hyunjin grinned, biting his lip as he leaned forward to turn off his livestream camera.

he felt sticky, and messy, but god did it feel good. he worked quickly to find his wipes and clean the cum off of his torso before it dried, before pulling out his favorite lounge pants and a baggy shirt.

sure, cam work was often frowned upon, but why shouldn’t he get paid for allowing others to view his pleasure? why shouldn’t he indulge himself in the compliments of strangers on twitter who oh-so loyally reminded him how beautiful he was under every lewd or nude he posted?

in fact, he didn’t understand why people wouldn’t want that for themselves.

of course, it also helped that he was surrounded by many followers and mutuals who were even more attractive than him, making many online friends who enjoyed their sexuality just as much as he did.

speaking of which, he needed to reply to a dm from his favorite mutual. she was gorgeous in every sense of the word - and her personality even more so. they’d began talked after she praised him under one of his only cumshot videos on the app, and instantly bonded from there. it was her who had introduced him to the camming site she used, hyunjin having instantly made an account - at first, to watch his new friend’s streams, but eventually starting his own.

his most recent conversations with his friend - who used the online alias of “jae” - was about their many, many requests from their followers for a collab. either for a twitter post, or a stream, it seemed their fans weren’t too fussed. they entertained the idea, and were currently in the process of figuring out if it was actually a good idea for them.

he was more than keen - jae’s body was gorgeous, and he’d rubbed one out to her twitter posts more than once. and - although he’d never admit it - he was a frequent viewer of her streams. that was where jae and himself differed though. she was too caught up in keeping her viewers occupied, that she hadn’t had a chance to watch one of his streams, and he never showed his face in twitter posts.

so, in short, she didn’t know what he looked like. and neither did he truly know what she looked like, because she’s never done a face reveal on twitter or on a stream. he was only fortunate enough to have endless content of her gorgeous tits and pretty pussy to indulge in when he needed it.

a week later, and it was almost time. hyunjin and jae had agreed to meet at a bar near his campus, to see how their dynamic went. the agreement was that if either party felt uncomfortable, they would go no further and call the idea off. if they both felt comfortable, well…. jae would take hyunjin back to her apartment. they’d see how things went there, take a few photos for twitter and maybe if they both wanted.

then - all things successful - the following weekend, they’d do a joint stream, streaming live on both their accounts simultaneously for maximum viewers. that was his idea, a whim decision that he was surprised jae agreed too.

hyunjin dressed in his nicest semi-casual outfit before grabbing all the essentials in his bag - wallet, keys, charger, airpods, phone - before grabbing a bottle of lube and some condoms. just to be on the safe side, he told himself. he didn’t know why he was so nervous, this was literally part of his job. and he’d been talking to jae for months now. he had no reason to be scared.

that was until he got to the bar and had every reason to be scared. sitting in a booth in the corner, exactly where jae had told him she was sitting, was you. y/n l/n, the pretty girl in the back of his algebra class. there was no way, right? he cautiously approached the table, hands shaking slightly. oh god, was it really someone he knew on the other end of the phone that entire time?

“jae?” he asked, wincing at the way his voice broke, and his heart thumping when your head whipped up. you looked like a deer caught in headlights as you realized who was stood in front of you, and instantly you both worried that this was a bad idea.

“oh my god… hyunjin?” but what surprised him most was the way you broke into a grin. “thank god, i was so worried it was actually going to be a creepy old man catfishing me… come! come sit!”

were you always so bubbly? hyunjin had always known who you were, but this was so different to the quiet girl in the back of the algebra class, one airpod in at all times, glasses donning her face and never talking. he was almost whiplashed - he’d really misjudged you.

“so… i mean, know that we’ve known each other previously, do you still want to do this? if not, no harm done, and i promise i won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone about me.” you asked softly, picking up on hyunjin’s hesitance - not that it was hard, he wore all his emotions on his sleeve.

“no! no, i still want to do this.. i guess i’m just.. surprised? i never expected jae to be someone i knew.”

you grinned at that, reaching out to grab his hand across the table comfortingly.

“i get it. i didn’t expect you to be someone i knew, either. but honestly, this works really well for me. you’re hot, and i feel more comfortable knowing you’re not a complete stranger.”

he flushed at your words, but hoped you couldn’t tell under the dim lights of the bar.

“do you wanna get a couple of drinks before we head back to mine? maybe some shots, just to ease the nerves? my teat.” you smiled, pulling out your purse as hyunjin shook his head rapidly.

“no, no i can pay for my drinks!”

“hyunjin,” you laughed. “its fine. got a big tip last night, nearly $600 dollars from a private stream. my treat.” you insisted, taking his drink order before wandering over to the bar.

he couldn't help the way he watched your ass as you walked, the tight skirt doing nothing to help his already raging boner. if he’d known you were so confident, he would’ve made a move on you sooner. in all honesty, hyunjin had always had an eye for you - you were so, so pretty. the whole nerdy thing you had going on really turned him on too - you seemed so innocent, and it played into his whole corruption fantasy. but knowing now that it wasn’t true - that you were secretly a freak? it was a whole new level of turned-on. if he could, he would’ve ravished you in the toilet cubicles of the bar, but he was more classy than that. maybe next time.

before he could realize the implications of his thoughts, you came back over, passing him his drink before sipping on yours as you took a seat.

“so i was thinking we could cover the basics here? safe words, hard limits, that sort of thing? it seemed too impersonal to do over messages, you know?”

god, he didn’t think he could get more attracted to you. he barely could keep track of your conversation, only spaced-in enough to cover the most important topics. his cock throbbed in his jeans when you leaned over the table towards him, tits squeezing together perfectly under your tiny shirt. the skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that had hyunjin trying not to drool, and your thighs looked so, so biteable in contrast to the material adorning them.

he was so out of it, he couldn’t even trace the moment that you’d left the bar to go back to your apartment, not until you pushed him against the back of the door and asked him to kiss you with big doe eyes.

and how could he refuse? when you looked up at him like he was the only god you could ever submit to? when you begged so nicely? when your hands tightened on his shirt in anticipation?

he gripped your jaw, pulling your face up to meet his as he kissed you in a flurry of clashing teeth and spit. he wanted to be gentle, to be careful with you, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed you so bad, and it was like his body was acting on its own accord.

like when he flipped your positions, so you were the one pressed against the door. a moan left your lips and went tumbling into his at the way our back hit the door, and he felt himself throb at how pretty you sounded. he was quick to hoist one of your legs over his hip, pressing his body against your as much as he could.

as his tongue entered your mouth, battling yours for dominance which you inevitably surrendered to him, he grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feel of your skin making him groan against you.

he was quick to pull away from your mouth with a pop, smirking as you whined before attaching his plump lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. you keened, back arching against the door and pushing your tits against him perfectly. he tapped your ass harshly, before lifting at your other leg, hinting for you to jump as he wrapped your legs around his waist, effectively trapping you against the door.

the display of strength had you clenching around nothing, hands tugging at his hair as you panted and whined into the darkness of your apartment.

“bedroom, hyun. take me to my bedroom.” you whimpered as he bit down on your jugular, rocking your hips against him. “last door on the right.”

he grunted in response, carrying you across the expanse of your apartment, kicking open your bedroom door when he reached it. he was fast to kick it shut behind him, dropping you onto the bed once close enough and looking down at you with eyes so blown-out with lust he looked feral.

you felt small under his gaze, embarrassment flushing across you in a way it hadn’t in a long time. cam work and your nsfw twitter had built a whole new confidence in you - you felt like femme fatale, someone who could have boys falling to their knees to worship the ground she walked on, only to have hyunjin blow it all away within moments. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d wanted someone this bad, and you were damned sure you were going to make him give you what you wanted.

your hand slipped down to your skirt, lifting the material as you slipped your panties to the side, looking up at him with doe eyes as your finger circled your clit. you were so wet it was unreal, and he could’ve sworn you were about to start dripping all over the bed below you.

“gonna fuck me now, hyunie? gonna make me feel good like you promised so many times on twitter? need you so bad, need you to fill me up.” your words drawled out slightly slurred, the visual of his cock jumping beneath his jeans making you involuntarily clench around nothing. but oh, it made something in your mind click, smirking as you enticed him even more with your teasing.

“why don’t we stream it, yeah? then everyone can see what a fucking slut you are for me?”

he growled in response, lunging forward to push your thighs apart as far as they could, his eyes fixed on your cunt, slick dripping out of your greedy hole.

“oh, i’m a slut, hmm? well then, we don’t we show your viewers how quickly you’re going to cream on my cock, yeah? make them watch as you beg me to cum inside of you, have my cum dripping out of you as a reminder of how bad you want me?”

you were so caught off guard at the change of demeanor that he showed, you didn’t even realize that he’d floated over to your computer, which had your streaming site booted up in the background in case of an impromptu stream - just like now, you supposed.

turning back to you, his face had relaxed and his eyes showed concern.

“are you sure about this, what about if they accidentally see your face?” your heart warmed at his worry, shaking your head in response.

“i don’t care. collab stream with you and face reveal? two birds with one stone, just need you to hurry up and fuck me.”

at your words, his face hardened again, and he smirked, typing in the title for the stream and turning it on. instantly, pings from your computer informed you that people were joining, and it had you more turned on - if that were even possible.

‘face reveal + a special guest: surprise lovelies xoxo ~ jaecums // callmehhj’

“gonna let me ravish you now, then? let sir turn you into a brainless cumdump on his cock?”

your eyes fluttered, threatening to roll to the back of your head as hyunjin approached you once more, biting your lip as you nodded, whining out a yes.

“come on, princess. you gotta use your words for me, yeah? how else will i know what my slutty girl wants?” he asked, faux sympathy dripping from his voice as he knelt on the end of the bed, long fingers circling your hole.

“please, sir, please, need you, need you to fuck me so bad, sir, please-!”

your words were cut off as he removed himself from the bed, kneeling on the floor and pulling you towards him by your thighs. your legs hung over his shoulders, ass perched on the edge of the bed as he kissed softly up your thighs.

“gotta let me hear those pretty moans as i eat you out first, though. gonna make you cum on my face before my cock even goes near you.”

you keened as he pushed his face against your core, nose swiping against your clit as he flattened his tongue against you. “oh, fuck–!”

he hummed in appreciation, the vibrations making your hips buck against him as he messily made out with your clit, spit and arousal dripping down onto his chin. your hands laced their way through hyunjin’s long hair, grip tightening every time he decided to tease you by dipping his tongue into your hole.

his fingers were digging into your skin deliciously, and you were sure you’d have marks left behind to remind you that this wasn’t just a fever dream. your moans were bouncing off the walls, and even then you could hear the messy slurping of hyunjin gathering all of your arousal that he could into his mouth.

he was like a man starved between your legs, and it had your stomach tightening unbelievably fast. there was no way– you’d never come this fast, especially from oral. was hyunjin superhuman? you couldn’t believe that you were already feeling a coil tightening and a warm tingling spreading up through your body already.

your hands threaded further through his hair, hips bucking wildly as you tugged his face deeper into your core. “oh, shit– oh fuck, sir, m’gonna cum–!” you cried, toes curling as you tried to fend off your building release. “please! pleasepleaseplease-!” your words came out slurred, and hyunjin smirked to himself between your legs as he pulled away from your swollen clit with a pop.

he quickly replaced his lips with his fingers, rubbing delicate figure-eights on your bud while he looked up at you with faux doe eyes. “gonna cum, yeah? you gonna cum for me, baby?”

but it wasn’t enough for you as tears sprung behind your eyes, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders. “please, sir-! please, let me cum for you, please!”

hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly before his face hardened once more and his fingers sped up on your clit. he began pressing kisses to your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush skin.

“go on, princess. cum for me. cum all over sir’s face, yeah?”

and as soon as the words left his mouth, he pushed his nose against your bud, tongue lapping at your hole and the coil in your stomach snapped. you keened, back arching as your juices flooded hyunjin’s mouth, him moaning against your core in appreciation.

he stayed nestled between your thighs until your legs started twitching in overstimulation and you began pushing his head away. but god, he’d never get over the way you tasted. it was official - he’d never be able to give any other girl oral because it would never be as perfect as the way your thighs wrapped around his head. he was a goner.

hauling himself onto his feet, hyunjin wrapped an arm around your back to pull you to meet him halfway in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your slick falling from his mouth to yours. you moaned against his lips, hands falling to grip onto him any way you could before realizing he was still fully dressed. you sharply pulled away from the kiss, brows furrowed and lower lips falling out in a pout.

“take it off,” you grumbled, pulling at the material of his shirt, frown only deepening when he chuckled at you. but you could forgive him for that, you could forgive him for anything - especially when he looked that fucking good. planes of muscled, honey skin exposed to you, and you wanted nothing more than to pin him down and cover him in bites and bruises. however, you didn’t think he’d let you get away with that, so you let your hands fall to his belt, quickly undoing it in hopes he’d get the hint.

as he began removing the offending items, you slipped your skirt and top off, leaving you in just a lacy bra, to which hyunjin grinned. “so desperate for me, huh? wasn’t enough that i made you cum once, was it? my greedy girl.”

“need you inside me, please,” you whimpered, reaching out to pull him towards you. “need you to fuck me, sir, come on.”

he leaned down to plant a kiss on your head, before stepping away to retrieve a condom from his wallet. it was in that moment of silence that you could truly appreciate how many pings were coming from your computer, an indication of how much people were enjoying the stream. you were kind of excited to see how many tips you got, and were curious to see if hyunjin would easily accept half of whatever you made - he seemed like the type of guy to refuse, but you could be just as stubborn.

when he came back, he had put the condom on his length, and you nearly drooled seeing it up close. his dick was…. well, gorgeous. there was no other way to put it, and you knew damn well that you were going to be screaming with pleasure faster than you ever had.

“gonna fuck you so full of me, yeah? let everyone see what a dirty bitch you really are.”

he clambered on top of you, kneeling with one hand next to your hip and the other on his length to guide it against your hole. he’d barely put the tip in before you moaned, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how fucked out you were.

“calm down, love. let me at least get inside you before you go all brainless.”

but you couldn’t help the way you writhed and keened as he pushed ever-so-slowly further into you, not stopping until he was sheathed inside you, his public bone resting against your plush thighs.

he had his lower lip tucked between his teeth to stop himself from drowning out your pretty whimpers, but also to ground himself - you felt so warm and tight, it took everything in him not to nut straight away. he couldn’t. you deserved to squirt all over him before he even considered finishing.

you reached for his arm, fingers coming to grip the muscle as he began to shallowly thrust, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls making your head fall back as you let out a contented sigh. you didn’t think you’d ever felt so full in your life, and it was heavenly. every vein on his cock, every twitch, the way his tip stretched you out so perfectly for the rest of him. oh yeah, you could die happy now.

your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him against you as he rocked his hips, not wanting to overwhelm you and pound into you how he wanted. his eyes bored into your skin, making you blush at the way he held such affection for you in his pretty eyes. it was freeing, and overwhelming, and heartwarming all at once.

once you’d been reasonably adjusted to his size, he pulled his hips back as far as your grip would allow him, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting forward against such force it sent your body back up the bed at least an inch. you cried out, clenching on him as drool began pooling at your lips from your want— no, your need for him to ruin you.

“please, sir,” you slurred, fingers gripping at his skin as tight as the heat in your body would let you. “fuck me properly, please. wanna make a mess, wanna make you cum.”

he then growled at your words, hips speeding up almost instantly. your body rocked in its spot on the bed, tits bouncing with the pure force he was driving into you at.

the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and if you strained your ears you could hear the squelching noise your pussy made as your arousal dripped out, coating the sheets beneath you.

you knew you’d get a noise complaint from your neighbor if you kept squealing the way you were, but you couldn’t help it. especially not when hyunjin bit down on your neck, tongue rubbing over the sensitive skin, making you let out an almost animalistic howl.

it felt like he was hitting the deepest parts of you, and you couldn’t get enough of it. the way his hair swayed, the way sweat was dripping down his forehead, the way he looked at you like he wanted nothing more than to tie you down and use you as his own personal sex toy. even the way he moaned when you clenched around him, god you were obsessed.

you felt a fire building in your abdomen as he leant back on his knees, eyes trained on watching his cock glide in and out of you, and you held your legs up to your chest to give him a better view. at that, he threw his head back and let out a heavenly groan, causing you to clench around him once again.

you snaked a hand down to your clit, rubbing it furiously as the leg it was holding fell into place naturally on hyunjin’s shoulder. you were so aching close, so close you could feel your walls begging for it, but you just needed a final push.

hooking your foot around his neck, you pushed hyunjin towards you, instantly grabbing his lips with your own. it was messy, and disgusting, but you loved it. all drool, and teeth clashing, tongues wrapped around each other like that's how they’d always been.

the new angle allowed hyunjin to reach ever deeper - hitting the deepest parts of you that you didn’t even know where possible. he reached a hand up to tweak at your nipple, and you whined into his mouth as it sent you hurling into an orgasm, back arching to push your chests together.

the way you clamped down on him sent him head-first into his own release, his hips stuttering as you felt each throb of his cock as he filled the condom. you were both breathing heavily, almost panting as he pulled away from this kiss, thrusting shallowly a few more times to ride you both through your release.

your chest was heaving, and you felt like you’d ascended. all floaty and gooey, head sinking into the pillow beneath it as your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. hyunjin peppered a few soft kisses across your cheeks as he carefully pulled out, rubbing your hips comfortingly when you winced.

“good?” he asked quietly, so quiet that your computer wouldn’t pick it up, and you nodded without opening your eyes.

“so good.”

you felt him crawl backwards and leave the bed, opening your bleary eyes to follow his figure around the room. you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet, though. you thought all your bones had disappeared and you’d sink straight back into the bed if you tried.

once he’d come back to the bed from ending the stream and tossing the used condom in the bin, he scooped you into his arms and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

“you’re staying tonight, right?” you asked softly, nuzzling your head against him. “don’t think i can let you go after that.” exhaustion flooded your voice and he chuckled.

“course i am, silly. but we gotta get you showered, okay? then i can order in some food and we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

you nodded softly.

“join me in the shower?”

“oh, i don’t think that’s a good idea, princess. you’re shattered.”

“please, jinnie,” you pleaded, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “need you to cum down my throat before anything else, and sharing a shower means saving water, after all.”

he laughed at your enthusiasm, and nodded, agreeing.

“okay. okay, whatever you want. but then - food and sleep, okay?” he grinned, scooping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom.

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supershot73199 · 1 month

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Ok so this is a dcxdp prompt/idea I was thinking about.

We love to make Danny op and concern the heroes and while that's fun as @jedipirateking often correctly points out dc has seen pretty much everything Danny can do and while it can be fun to make Danny eldritch or whatever to justify it I had another idea.

Now I want to pull back to focus on the concept of Danny Phantom, that is a single individual standing guard over an area to protect the living from invaders who happen to be dead. You know who is an interesting figure that could potentially see some of themselves in Danny and probably does have a reputation that would make Constantine pause (in a way more similar to wonder woman, powerful but not just raw power), someone who could potentially take Danny under their wing and turn an already powerful teen into a terror for his enemies?

Scáthach, the legendary trainer of heroes who trained the Irish Heracles, Cu Chulain. The guardian queen of the land if shadows who defends humanity from the dead and I think in at least a few versions of her myth a godslayer.

Now as far as I'm aware the actual Scáthach has never appeared in dc comics however her legend shows she is a massive badass and while she may not have the raw power of like superman I would put my money on her having at least a decent chance of beating him as not only is she skilled in martial matters she was also a powerful witch.

How she and Danny meet can be up to interpretation, but I do believe that a trainer of heros would not be able to just tell someone who has so many similarities to herself to just figure it out as such I think Danny would end up being taken on as a student.

My idea on how she cam learn of Danny is when Pariah is released, she prepares to face him in battleshould he try to leave the infinite realms by way of her gateway (maybe that could be the only natural stable portal), not particularly concerned as she had beaten him before (the only reason she isn't ghost queen is that she is an immortal witch not a ghost and thus ineligible) only for her to eventually get word of someone else beating him and sealing him away. She then does her best to keep up with any news about him until the day Danny is forced to take the crown and immediately uses his authority to stop ghosts from invading the land of the living in attempts to harm them inadvertently freeing Scáthach from her duties as a guard allowing her to finally track down Danny so she can train him.

Also as I'm pretty sure Scáthach was the one who crafted the Gae Bulg, the legendary spear of Cu Chulainn, which means she could craft a weapon for Danny.

So yeah long story short the terror of Danny Powerhouse Phantom who has been taught and honed by one of the greatest teachers of mythology is someone I can see causing Constantine to hesitate to mess with.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny fenton #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #scáthach #irish mythology #also if Cu has a ghost he can be buddies with the newest student of his master

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russo-woso · 6 months

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hi, do you write for Niamh Charles? if so, maybe one where reader makes her debut for England and scores the winning goal but then ends up injured pretty badly in the game and Niamh realizes her feelings for her?

Yes, I do write for Niamh! I love Niamh, except for the fact she plays for Chelsea, but anyways, here is I really really like you.

I really really like you | Niamh Charles

Warning slight injury, and just Niamh being protective.

Over the past two weeks, the only thing you could think about was England camp.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the matches against The Netherlands and Scotland.

You knew it was bound to come at some point. You had been playing exceptionally well for Manchester City and England’s U23.

At just age 22, you were Manchester City’s first choice as CAM.

You were excited to be playing with the seniors, the feeling of being at a sold out Wembley, but also to see a certain defender.

Niamh Charles.

You had barely spoken to Niamh. You shared a few sentences, if you could even call it that, when playing against Chelsea.

You weren’t going to deny it, you couldn’t deny it because it was so obvious, you had a huge crush on Niamh.

From the way her hair falls when she takes it out in matches, to the way how her hand feels in yours when you shake hands.

You didn’t know why you liked Niamh, I mean, she’d never like you back. Would she?

————————

You travelled down to St George’s Park with the city girls.

It was a relatively easy drive down. There was no traffic, but as soon as you got there, you wish there had of been.

Your heart was racing.

Thoughts went rushing through your mind. What if you didn’t play good? What if Sarina made a mistake inviting you into the squad? What if you embarrass yourself in front of Niamh?

“Y/N, you coming?” Esme asked you as she started to walk inside, quickly stopping to look back at you.

“Yeah.” You replied, hesitancy in your voice.

“Y/N/N, you’ll do fine. I know it’s a big change and thoughts are running through your mind right now. But you belong here.” Esme told you, quickly hugging you before walking inside.

You followed her in, dragging your suitcase behind you.

You enter the lobby first, finding out who your roommate was.

You were roommates with her.

You grabbed your keycard, making your way up to the second floor, before lightly tapping it on your door.

It granted you access, and you walked inside hesitantly.

“Hi, it’s Y/N, isn’t it? I’m Niamh.” Niamh welcomed you into the room. You couldn’t help but notice how voice stuttered a few times when she spoke.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to properly meet you. I feel like we’re always in such a rush after matches that I’ve never really met you.” You joked and Niamh agreed with a small laugh.

It was already late by the time you had gotten there so you were already tired and ready to get to sleep.

“Everyone’s going down to the relaxation room just now if you want to come.” Niamh asked, playing with the hairs on the back of her neck.

“I would but it’s been a long journey down here and I’m tired so I might just head to bed.” You explained, also stuttering some of your words due to being so nervous.

“Are you sure?” She questioned, just double checking, and you replied with a smile and a nod. “Okay, well, sleep well.”

With that, she left the room, the door clicking shut.

The only thing that replayed on your mind was the conversation, the way how your voice stuttered as you spoke to her.

She had to know that you liked her now, with the stuttering, the sweat that was starting to build up on your forehead.

After sitting in a silence whilst you thought back of your previous conversation, a small beeping in noice was heard from the door and it opened.

Niamh walked inside and you gave her a confused look.

“I couldn’t leave you here alone. Not when it’s your first night.” Niamh explained and you shook your head at her explanation, guilt washing all over your body.

“Niamh, no, seriously I’m fine. You go downstairs if you want to.” You told her

“Everyone down there’s boring. And anyway, we’ll be stuck with them for the next week so one night not seeing them will do me good.” She justified and settled herself on her bed. “I thought we could find a film to watch.”

And that’s exactly what you did. You both agreed on a movie and spoke the entire night.

The tiredness you felt completely went away as you spoke to Niamh.

You spoke, you laughed, you told stories.

It was safe to say that you didn’t just like Niamh anymore, you were utterly in love with her.

————————

The rest of the week sped by, with training taking up the mornings and then spending the afternoon with your new friends.

Over the week, You quickly befriended Alessia Russo and Ella Toone. The duo quickly becoming a trio.

You got along with them well and you spent most of your afternoons with them.

The week had sped by so quickly, that you were all currently on your way to Wembley.

On the way, Sarina announced the lineup.

Sarina didn’t read out your name but assured you that would definitely be subbed on later on in the game.

Niamh, who was sat next to you on the coach, cheered for you, and rested her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you. Your first England debut.” Niamh said, looking up at you.

“Thanks, Niamhy.”

————————

The team had down amazing to come back.

At half time, they were down 2-0, but with two goals in two minutes, they were now equal with the Netherlands.

In the 68’, Sarina told you and Alessia to take off your bibs.

You stood with her as she told you tactics she had picked up.

Whilst waiting for the ball to go out of play, Alessia stood next to you.

It was so cold that you were basically cuddled up to one another.

She congratulated you on my debut, patting you on my back as the announcement was made.

It was announced you’d be subbed off for Georgia.

She ran off the pitch high fiving you, before you ran on.

The game continued and there was still no goals come the 90’.

You had been playing incredibly, proving to everyone why Sarina had called you up.

In the first minute of injury time, Lauren James crossed the ball into the box and you were in a perfect position to run onto it.

Without taking a touch, you nutmegged the Dutch keeper and the ball ended up being in the back of the net.

Your teammates surrounded you, enveloping you in a hug.

Once everyone pulled away, Niamh pulled you in again.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N/N.” She whispered in your ear.

“Thank you, Niamhy.” You said, using the nickname you’d given her.

You noticed her cheeks flush a light red and with the confidence you felt, you pressed your lips onto the red pigment before running back to your position.

Two minutes later, you had another chance in the penalty box.

Lucy played a long ball into the box and you jumped to header it.

The next thing you knew, something connected with your head but it wasn’t the ball.

The Dutch keeper had jumped up to punch the ball away but instead, had punched you.

You fell to the floor limply as blood made it way from your nose.

You groaned in pain and your hand went flying to your nose and you head.

Alessia was the first one to you, crouching down and stroking your hair to comfort you.

Everything was blurry, you couldn’t think straight but all you could think of was Niamh.

All you wanted was Niamh.

Instead of going straight to you, Niamh marched over to the keeper, Daphne van Domselaar, and pushed her straight to the floor.

“Look what you’ve done to her! You fucking bitch!” Niamh shouted at Daphne.

You winced at the sudden shouting, the pain searing through your head.

“Niamh, I want Niamh.” You managed to get out to Alessia.

As the medics got to you, Alessia left to get Niamh for you.

Within seconds, Niamh was crouched down next to you.

She gently picked up your head, getting approval from the medics, and laid it in her lap.

You reached out for her hand, which she squeezed lightly.

“Y/N/N, you’re so brave. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” She said, tears running down her cheeks as she stroked your hair.

Your teammates gathered round, awing at you and Niamh.

They were certain that by tomorrow morning, you and Niamh would be a couple.

The medics put you onto the stretcher and lifted you upwards.

You watched as Niamh was taken aside by the ref and was given a red card.

Niamh accepted the red card. One, she thought Daphne deserved what she got, even if it wasn’t her fault, and two, she got to be with you whilst you were treated.

She ran to catch up with you and the medics, taking your hand in hers and walked towards the tunnel.

————————

“Why did you do it?” You asked Niamh once the medics had gone.

They had confirmed that you had a broken nose and a concussion.

“Do what?” Niamh asked back, giving you a sympathetic look as she looked at the stained blood on your face.

“Punch Van Domselaar. Get a red card. She didn’t do it on purpose.” You said and Niamh looked down at the floor. “Niamhy.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Niamh whispered, barely being able to hear herself, let alone you.

“Why?” Confusion took over your face, not knowing why she didn’t want you to call her that.

“Because it kills me to hear you say it when I know you don’t like me. It kills me thinking back to tonight when you were on the floor. It kills me to think about our late night conversation when I know that after camp, everything will go back to normal.” Niamh revealed and once more, tears fell from her eyes.

“Niamh, what makes you think I don’t like you back?” You asked, as her head jerked upwards, revealing her blue eyes, full of hope. “I’ve liked you since I played against you for the first time. The amount of times I’ve Instagram stalked you just so I can see your smile. It’s killed me knowing this past week that we’ve grown closer and closer but I’ll never be able to call you mine.”

“You like me back?”

“Of course I do Niamhy. Who wouldn’t? You are the most kindest, most beautiful, loving person I’ve ever met, with a hint of protectiveness…” you joked, referring to the events early tonight. “…Who wouldn’t like you back? Definitely not me. I really really like you, Niamh. I have done for a while.”

“I really really like you too.” She said, a huge smile appearing on her face as she inched closer to your face.

You could practically feel her breath on your lips as she stopped her movements.

You took the final step in connecting your lips.

It was so gentle, both of you too scared to move, trying not to overwhelm one another. And the fact you’ve got a broken nose.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Niamhy.”

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #niamh charles #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso couples

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luciferlightbringer · 7 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 10

Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Chapter 11|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity,

Over the next couple of days, Charlie and the hotel crew started to prepare for their little "intervention" dinner with her dad. Charlie and Vaggie worked together to make up dinner while the others made sure the place was kept up, mostly Niffty.

Later that night, Charlie heard a knock on the front door. Was that him? Why didn't he just teleport in like usual? Charlie went to open the door and saw Lucifer giving his big focused smile.

"Charlie! It's so good to see you," he said enveloping his daughter in a big hug. It had been weeks since he had hugged anyone, the sting of how much he missed it had started to grow back.

"Hi Dad," Charlie said hugging her father back tightly and swinging him around. "I've missed you so much, it's been weird not having you around as much."

Lucifer tightened his grip on Charlie as they hugged, "I'm- sorry about that sweetie, I just... got busy. I'll try to be better about that, I promise."

Charlie loosened the hug enough to study her dad's face, it was tired and worn out, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Lucifer tried hard to keep his facade up, but he knew his daughter was trying to read him.

"Dad... are you sure you are ok?" Charlie asked with concern.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" he said still trying to hold a smile, holding a silence but futile prayer that he could find a way to fool her into thinking he was ok.

The other members of the hotel, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Cherri, Vaggie, even Alastor started to walk in from the shadows of the hotel lobby.

"Cuz, with all due respect your highness," Husk chimed in "One, you are a bad liar, two, we actually do care about you," Husk looked over to Alastor out of the side on his eye, "well... most of us care about you, and three... we are also worried about (y/n)."

"Ya!" Angel added in, "You two were a couple of peas in a pod, she was even talkin' 'bout wantin' to move in here, den 'poof', ya both are nowhere ta be seen fa' weeks. What gives?! I thought we mattered to you guys!"

"Ya! I miss you and our girl, where is she?!" Cherri pipped in, "We loved watching you two hangin' out here togetha."

"She was a bad girl! But she was really nice! I liked when she would listen to me talk about my bugs fights!" Niffty added, holding up her knife.

Alastor sighed, "Honestly, I'm mostly here for the entertainment of your sorrow... but (y/n) was important to the growth of the hotel and it's community. Plus, she amuses me. I had grown unfortunately fond of her charms," Alastor said with a wicked smile, his comment made the room pause a moment, Lucifer glared at him.

"We miss both of you, sir, it's just not the same here without you. We just kinda feel like we've been left in the dark," Vaggie added, rubbing her arm.

Lucifer sighed, he didn't realize just how much you had meant to not just Charlie, but to the entire hotel. That you guys together had been. It was important for them to know the truth.

"Ok, ok... I'll tell you the truth... but it isn't going to be pretty," Lucifer said with shame painting his face. Lucifer went to go sit on the couch and the others came to sit around him and listen to the story. Lucifer gave an abbreviated story of the last several months of his time with you, truth that you were actually a prostitute he had hired, the story with how it all started with the conversation with Ozzie, the first appointment and the chaos and joy that cam from it, how you had helped him to connect with Charlie and the hotel again, how you supported either other through the stresses of the war with Heaven, how he protected you, how he realized he had fallen in love with you, and then the last night you were together, the blur and confusion of it all, and how finally you had banned him from being able to be scheduled with you again and how you had been told that the whole dynamic was just her acting like she cared about him. He didn't blame or try to paint you in a bad light, he was just defeated and sad.

During the story, the group went through a series of emotions, all of them now understanding why you had not able to talk about your relationship with him at all.

"Damn it! No wonder I liked her so much! She's in da same industry as me!" shouted Angel when the story was over, "She felt so kindred and I couldn't fuckin' see it. Oh, she is good."

"So... none of your relationship was real?" Charlie asked, sadly.

Lucifer shook his head, "No... no I don't think it was."

Husk shook his head, "You're wrong." Everyone looked at him. "Something here doesn't add up, Angel, Cherri, you remember our conversation with (y/n) the night before the war with heaven?" They nodded, Husk looked at Lucifer, "The only lie I have ever seen (y/n) tell you was that she was sad that night because of the war, which... she still was... but the reason she was sad before you came over to check on her was because she was sad that she could not be honest with us about your guy's relationship. We had asked her about what was up because you guys seemed more than friends, and she told us she could not talk about it. And she has tried to bluff some things about how she presents herself before when we first met her, probably all just to protect the secret you guys had. Trust me when I say, she was never fake with how much I saw she cared about you."

Lucifer shrugged, "It doesn't seem to matter though it though... in the end, she banned me."

"Why?" asked Angel, "Did she tell you? Did you ever hurt her?"

"No. Someone else at the place she works called me and told me, she was gone or... something. I don't know if I hurt her, never physically, but I was so drunk at the end of our last night together... I don't know what I did or why I got banned... and I'd never want to cross a boundary like that... she's had too many fucked up people in her life... I don't want to add to that club any more than I already had," he buried his face in his hands, "it sounds like keeping the secret was already a lot of weight on her, I didn't realize..."

"King, listen, I've been in the sex business for a long time, nothin' about this situation makes sense ta me, both from a sex worka' standpoint or from what I know about her. Did you pay her well?" Angel ask inquisitively.

Lucifer nodded, "Ya, I gave her big tips too, I wanted to to be happy and get what she needed."

"No good sex worka' in their right mind would full on ban you for one weird night, even if you did rough 'em up a bit. You told us there was some other client that had been roughin' her up a bit that you took care of. Tell me, did she ban him on the first night of havin' any issues with him?" Angel asked. Lucifer shook his head, starting to think about Angel's words.

"Right. So unless she was stupid, which I know she aint, she wouldn't've cut off probably the best paycheck in hell just because you had one sloppy drunk night where something may have gone weird. Also, on top a dat, sex worka's can be good actors and can pretend like they care. But they try not to get attached, and like Husker said earlier, she got attached, and boy it was obvious. That's probably a big reason why I didn't sus her out sooner. By da time we met her, nothin' about ya relationship was actin' anymore, on either side. Cuz you love 'er, dontcha?" Angel pointed while he leaned back on the couch.

Everyone looked at Lucifer, he nodded, "I do, I love her."

Angel nodded, "And you would do anythin' to make 'er happy, including keepin' yourself away from her if you thought it would make her happier, isn't dat right?"

Lucifer started to tear up, "Yes..." Charlie started to tear up and hugged her dad.

"Therefore... there is something fishy happenin' here, there must be some form of miscommunication, or... a third party that likes messin' with shit," Angel looked up at the ceiling thinking.

"How do you know all this?" asked Vaggie suspiciously. Angel looked over at Vaggie and have her a sly smile, "When you're life was spent in da Mafia and your afterlife was spent around shitty desperate sex worka's that are dying to get a taste of your success by any means necessary, you pick up on a few things, baby."

Charlie perked up, "You think someone at her work did this?"

Angel shrugged, "It's very possible, not 100%, but it's possible. Lucifer, did (y/n) ever talk about having any issues with other girls at her workplace?"

Lucifer thought a moment, "Hmm... she mentioned there being some annoying girls that she some sometimes needed to put in their place, but nothing this crazy hostile. But then again, she didn't like talking about the Lounge much, and I didn't like asking because I started to get more sad whenever I was reminded that I was just a client to her."

"The Lounge, like the Luxurious Lady's Lounge in the Entertainment district?" asked Angel.

"Ya... you know it?" asked Lucifer.

Angel smiled, "Know it? Ha! Sure do. I know exactly where it is too. May have even seen 'er once or twice without knowin' it"

Charlie smiled at her dad, "Dad, if we know where she is, we should just go and talk to her!"

Lucifer shook his head, "Oh. No, no, nonononono, Charlie... I can't do that."

"Why not? Dad, come on, we can try clearing all this up!" Charlie pleaded.

Lucifer sighed, "I just... until I know for sure that she didn't actually ban me, I won't want to risk that. It's just not a good idea... Plus, I don't want to attract more attention to her if she is having issues there," Lucifer hung his head.

Charlie thought for a minute, then a lightblub went off, Charlie got down to Lucifer's eye level, "Dad, she may have "banned" you for seeing her... but not me! I could go talk to her!"

"Charlie, hold on, dis is a bad idea," Angel piped up, everyone looked at him confused, "Rememba' what happened when you tried to talk to Val for me?" Charlie thought for a second remembering the disaster that was, feeling the guilt return at the memory. Angel smiled, "Obviously I need to go with you!" The room erupted into laughter, Angel almost had them for a second, even Lucifer managed to crack a smile in his down mood.

"You guys are really willing to do this for me?" he asked looking to Charlie and Angel.

Charlie looked at Angel and back to her dad, and grabbed Lucifer's hands, "Yes, for you... and for us."

Lucifer smiled, "Ok... but can we actually have dinner before you go? I was anticipating an actual dinner instead of an intervention, but I guess I should have expected both." The room filled with laughter again and the group set up for dinner before Charlie and Angel would head out to find the Lounge, and more importantly, you.

______________________________________________________________

Later that evening, you were hanging out in the lobby of the Lounge, the same way that you had the nights before Lucifer had started to take up more of your schedule. You were still getting clients, but it was back to the old torturous monotony as before, but it somehow felt worse now that you had gotten a taste of love... or what you thought had been love. Every client made you wish you were back in Lucifer's arms, wanting to explore Lucifer's body... not this shithole and all it's shitty clients.

You felt yourself grow more bitter as you saw Cynthhhhia grow back in popularity with the customers, it seemed her few days on the phones really scared her into staying in her lane, especially because Larry had apparently made her take all of the calls during those three days. Something did not sit right with you about her more recent success, but you didn't want to turn into another her. Plus, the happier she was, the more she left you alone. Guess there had to be a bright side, somewhere.

You were sitting on your favorite couch in a long, blue, shear, flowy robe, when you saw a tall pair of individuals walk into the lobby. But not just any two tall people, two that you recognized, Angel and Charlie. You eyes went wide, and you quickly slinked off to the dressing room to hide.

'What the hell? What are they doing there?!' you thought to yourself. You hoped they hadn't seen you, even though your time with Lucifer was up, you still wanted to keep his secret about the two of you.

Charlie and Angel walked up to the front counter where Larry was standing he did a double-take seeing both of them.

"Whoooaaa, Princess Morningstar! And the famous Angel Dust! What an honor to have you two in to join us this evening. Are we interested in having a little fun tonight? I am surprised, I didn't think one of Val's best boys would be needin' to pay for fun. Unless... you are looking for a change in employment?" He flashed a sharp smile.

Charlie piped up, "Hi! Uhh, Charlie is just fine. And no, neither of those things. We are here looking for one of your girls, (y/n)."

"Is she here tonight?" Angel added.

"Uhh... ya. What business do you have with her?" Larry asked, wondering how they knew her.

"She's a friend ah mine," Angel chimed in, "She's mean MIA for a few weeks and we have been worried about 'er, we were wantin' to check in on her. Charlie has gotten to know her a little too and wanted to come with."

"Can we pleaseee see her?" Charlie pleaded.

Larry thought for a moment, "I don't know, she is still on the clock for several more hours. I can't just let her off early." Charlie and Angel look at each other and nod, Charlie pulls out an bunch of cash, "Will this cover her for the rest of the night." Larry smiled as the amount of money in her hands, it was more than enough.

"I do believe that will work Ms. Mornin- uhh, Charlie," Larry said taking the cash, "Let me go get her." Charlie is glad that she learned that in some situations like this, money talked more than words or power. She came more prepared than she had with her conversation with Valentino over getting more of Angel's time.

Larry searched around before finding you in the dressing room, "Hey Babydoll, you've been bought out for the rest of the night by some friends of yours, Angel Dust and Charlie Morningstar. I didn't know you knew them." He said giving you a look.

They bought you out for the rest of the night? Did they come here specifically to find you? How did they know you were here? Did... did Lucifer tell them? You felt some fear and hope bloom in your chest.

"Oh, haha ya, you know me, I'm just not one to talk about my personal life at work," you gave Larry a big smile. He laughed, "Alright, keep your secrets, sounds like they wanted to talk to you about something, worried about you. Go show 'em a good time tonight, ok?" You nodded, and quickly switching out to a more solid less see-through robe, before walking out to the lobby.

Angel and Charlie saw you coming, Charlie ran to you but you stopped her short of you, "Not here, come with me," and you led your friends up to you apartment. Once you were inside you room and the door was locked, you said "Ok now you can hug me if you want to."

This time, both Charlie and Angel want to embrace you at the same time, starting to tear up a little.

"Oh my god, (y/n)! It's so good to see you! We were so worried about you!" Charlie asked.

"Ya! When you and Lucifer stopped showing up at the hotel to visit, we started worrying, babe," Angel added.

"Wait... hold up, Lucifer stopped showing up to the hotel? How did you know I was here?" you asked.

"We sat my Dad down and he finally broke and told us the truth about everything," Charlie said.

"Ya, he spilled da beans on your guy's relationship, you don't have to keep his secret from us anymore," Angel added.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, "I don't?!" The two nodded. You started to sob and hugged them back. "I- I'm so sorry, I- I didn't want to lie to anyone but he wanted to keep it discreet, which I understand, he is the King! And it was so confusing, and then, one night he got really drunk one night, and it worried me, he wasn't acting like himself, and told me he loved me, but, but I didn't know if I could believe him. And he was getting all touchy and doe eyed, and I didn't know what was really what he wanted because it was all so sudden. So I ran! I ran because I was so scared, and- and- and-" Charlie and Angel both hugged you and tried to shushed you through your crying.

"It's ok, no one is mad at you. That sounds like a hard position to be in, it sounds like there was a lot of confusion on both sides," Charlie said.

"Confusion?" you sniffled, "Is that why he hasn't called to schedule with me again?"

Charlie and Angel looked at each other then back to you, "You didn't ban him then?"

You blinked, "WHAT?! Why on earth would anyone think I blocked him?! No! I freaked out and went on a trip for a few days to clear my head. I came back and I was told that he said he would call to reschedule, and then he just never did! I thought he hated me!"

"No!" Charlie cried, "No, Oh my god, he is a total wreck without you! He misses you like crazy! He thinks he was put on your "No Kiss List" or something"

"We can't even say your name without him shuttin' down and lookin' like we killed his dog or somethin'," Angel added, Charlie gave him a look, "What?! It's true!"

You sat down on the couch and stared out for a minute, thinking, "Why didn't he come to ask me himself?"

Charlie shrugged, "He doesn't remember what happened that night, he is convinced that he hurt you terribly and that it's why you banned him. He didn't want to hurt you so he respected that wish. We tried to get him to come tonight but he was scared in case you really had banned him."

You thought for a few more moments, who could have caused this? Who would have done this to you both. Your eyes widened. No, could this have been... did Cynthhhhia do this? Would she have been the one to make the calls that day since that was her punishment. You were pretty sure, but you didn't want to act without proof. You clenched your fists, starting to fill with rage.

"Is he at the hotel?" They nodded. You thought again, "Can you take me to him?" They nodded again with more excitement.

"I have just one question for you, before we go," Charlie started, looking into your eyes, "Tell me truthfully, do you actually care about my dad, not just for an income, but as a person?"

You took Charlie's hands in your own, "Charlie, I really do... more than anything... in fact... I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him." Charlie and Angel squealed and jumped up and down.

"That's all I needed to hear, let's do this!" Charlie declared.

You took a few minutes to get dressed, and soon you were off to see Lucifer again. Cynthhhhia eyed you a little as you left, wondering what you were doing with the most famous porn star in the Pride Ring and the Princess of Hell. She rolled her eyes and went back to chatting it up with her next client out it the lobby, it was probably nothing of substance, and she already had big enough fish to fry to keep her focused on herself. Although, she did briefly amuse herself with the idea of seducing the Princess' father, oh how wonderful a dream that would be, but she knew better than to put more thought into that. Why would the King of Hell ever need a prostitute? She laughed to herself.

You, on the other hand, were so full of fear and excitement at the idea of seeing actually Lucifer again, it felt like a dream and you were scared to wake up. But if Charlie and Angel's reaction was any indication of anything, maybe Brooklyn had been right after all.

______________________________________________________________

Thank you for putting up with torment! I made sure to get through this one quickier so that there was a return of hope. Next chapter they will finally talk in out, and then... a certain someone may see justice 😈

As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)

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366 notes · View notes

macfrog · 1 year

Text

hits different cowboy like me chapter twelve

oh, my, love is a lie! are we all ready? do we have our coping strategies in place? have we prepared ourselves for impending doom? then gather round, my dear children, for i’ve a tale to tell. and it’s a SORE one

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: still reeling from your fight with joel, you seek out an effective way to deal with it: a night of sambuca shots and no second thoughts

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) alcohol + drug consumption (reader gets hammered), heartache, angst, unwanted touching, intended sexual assault, drink spiking, descriptions of blood and bruising, protective!joel gets into a quick barfight, more discussion of cheating(?), joel won't admit feelings, pain pain and more pain, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 10.9k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel takes a beat to answer. Like he’s waiting for your voice to fill the space, the way it usually would. What’s up, old man? How hard is it to copy an address right? Lois not as good at typing as she is at sucking your – “You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.” The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

Of course he went to see Lois. He’s probably been seeing her for some time now. A nice lady, his own age, his line of work. You’re pretty sure she has a son, too. And your dad would love her, would love to think Joel was shacking up with some plant hire receptionist. She could turn your life around, son, he’d said. They fit together like a couple of jigsaw pieces. What the fuck would he have ever seen in you, past some young, tight thing for him to fuck? Just a placeholder. Just a time-waster.

A twenty-three-year-old; enough energy to keep him on his toes, cure his boredom. Fill his summer with something to do. And close enough to him, too, that he reeled you in with minimum effort. One stupid look at you – one stupid, stupid glance and you were hooked. High as a kite on him. All the touching, all the whispering. That fucking – the fucking bottle. The video. All of it, every second he ever spent near you – it all makes you cringe now.

And then, once the embarrassment of being played by your dad’s best friend passes, there’s the hurt. The aching. Fuck, the aching. The way your chest swells, feels like it might rip at the seams and burst open. The sting behind your eyes anytime you picture his smile, the way he’d look at you. The feeling of your throat closing up whenever you go to speak, windpipe constricting around any words that aren’t his name, and using them to choke you.

And it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it. Can’t have a heart-to-heart with your dad, have him make you a tea and sit him down by your window, ask for advice on heartbreak and getting over his best friend. You’ve been excusing your reclusiveness by telling him you’re on your period. That’s why you haven’t left your bed in four days.

It was just all so fucking believable, wasn’t it? So good, you thought you were dreaming the entire time.

And here he’d just proven you right. You dreamt it all up.

Has he fucked her yet? Lois. Is she one of the ten he told you about the other night? Has she touched him the way you have? Has he touched her, the way he did you?

Does she know how he sounds when he comes undone? How he looks? How he feels? Does she do it for him the way you do it? And what does he call her? Baby? Darlin’? Or something different entirely?

Now you’re wondering when he started seeing her, and then, if they have slept together, when the first time was. Whether or not you cross over with her. Maybe he went and fucked her after you argued. Let off some steam over at her place, while you sat in his house, smelling his shirts and reading his stupid fucking Alcatraz books. While you paced around, practicing the words you’d say to him when he came back.

All you wanted was for him to come back. You wanted him to come find you upstairs, take the book from your hands and lean his head down on your chest, mumble an apology into the material of your shirt and then kiss you, and kiss you again while he pulled the clothes from your body, and kiss you while you were naked underneath him, and kiss you while he rocked his hips into yours.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You think you hate her. You don’t even know her. Don’t know what she looks like, only heard her voice. She’s probably gorgeous. Probably a really sweet woman, helps out on the PTA, the type that stops to read missing dog posters so she can keep an eye out for them. Probably knows Joel well enough that she writes Sarah a birthday card every year. Just a real nice, Southern lady.

And you fucking hate her.

That’s not fair, though, and you know it. She didn’t do anything wrong. Joel’s the one who screwed you over – screwed you both over. Really, you and Lois are one and the same.

Except that she’s taken away the only thing to put a real smile on your face since you got home, and for that, you fucking hate her.

What had he said again? That night he drove you home from Sal’s, the night your dad asked him to stay for pizza. …said she’d like to go for a drink. I said maybe sometime. Maybe he’d organized that drink, in the midst of whatever you two had been doing. Thought nothing of it – you said it yourself: you were just messing around. Said it, like, three times to him. Good fucking job.

And that adds to the hurt. That neither of you seemed to care enough to call it anything more. Because now, sitting alone in your room, desperately checking your phone for a missed call or a text message from him, ears pricking at every sound your dad makes downstairs in case he’s answering a call from Joel or welcoming him in through the front door – you wish you had called it something.

Wish you had just fucking said it. Told him outright about the feelings you had. You were thinking about them enough – the thought circled your mind any time there was a moment’s silence between you.

Sometimes, the way he’d glance over to you, the way his hand would brush against yours, the way he’d say your name…he felt like…

Yours. He was yours. He was so fucking close to being yours.

You almost said it, once. Almost admitted it to him. Couple times you saw it flash behind his eyes, too. And it’s a damn good thing neither of you did say it, because it would’ve been a mistake. Would’ve been lies.

You don’t love him. You never did. You were in some fantasy, built by Joel. There ain’t no love between you. None from your side. And definitely none from him.

Definitely – none – from –

him.

----------

Anna’s been at you all week. She text you on Monday night, but you were about four layers of blanket deep in your bed, weeping into a box of dry cereal and listening to some sad girl playlist on repeat. You fished your cell out from under your mattress the next morning. Your dad had to call it to help you find it.

Anna: Frank’s again on Friday? Rodeo night round 2!!!

Tuesday, it was Please?? It was so fun on Sat. Cmon, Kara’s coming again. Sam’s working but that means free shots so.

On Wednesday, she tried a new approach. I’ll cover any shift you want.

Any two shifts……

Ok three????

Thursday, she started to get desperate. I’ll spill all your secrets to my dad if you don’t come. And you know he’ll tell them all to your dad lol

By Friday morning, though, she’d decided you had no say in the matter: you were going, and you’d be happy about it. And you didn’t have it in you to fight back.

She’s standing at the side of the mirror, scanning you from head to two.

“All black? Again?”

“I look good in black.”

“You look good in anything,” she agrees, turning to sift through your closet, “so why don’t we go for…?”

“No,” you clip, holding a finger up to the red dress in her hands. “No.”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s hot. C’mon.”

“Why do I gotta be hot?”

“I mean…is Mr. Miller gonna be pickin’ you up again, or…?”

You lob a previously discarded dress at her and she snorts, turning to slip it back onto a hanger.

Even his fucking surname sends a pang of pain through your body. Your heart jumps at the sound of it, like its hopes had risen for a second, but then it plummets with the realization that it’s not really Joel, and he’s still really gone.

You’re in a plain black slip dress, black denim jacket slung over your shoulders. Black lace-up boots, too. It’s like rodeo night, except without the fun and excitement of Joel waiting for you at the end of the night. It’s basically rodeo night’s funeral. And good fucking riddance.

Anna – always glittering, always in some sparkly getup – leads you out of your bedroom and down the stairs. Your dad agreed to drop you guys off, seeing as he’s out working later on.

He’s sat in his armchair, glasses on the tip of his nose, squinting down at the instruction booklet to that fucking Garmin he’s still wrestling with. He looks up and claps his hands once.

“Ready, girls?”

Anna nods eagerly and you lift your eyebrows, thinking about how Joel would laugh at the sight of his buddy still fighting a very obviously lost battle to a GPS. Then you think about how he’d tell you quietly, You look beautiful, darlin’, and ask you to text him when you got home safe.

And finally, you think about how much of an ass he is, and you blink the tears from your eyes before following the two blurry figures out to the car.

Anna snaps a couple selfies as the car winds out of the neighborhood, angling her phone to pull you into shot. The sun setting over the roofs of the houses dazzles your eyes. She tuts, tells you to Look like you actually wanna be goin’ out, and sends them to Kara, letting her know you’re on your way.

You’re watching her reply to a text from some boy she’s seeing when your dad’s ringtone echoes throughout the car, the name on the tiny digital screen the very last name you want to see right now.

Or maybe the very name you’ve been waiting all week to see. Just, on your screen instead of your dad’s.

“Hey, Joel,” your dad calls, and your body instinctively leans in to listen better. Drawn in like a magnet to just the sound of his voice.

“Hey, bud,” he replies. It’s like a punch to your chest. Hands around your throat. Salt behind your eyes. “I just got off the phone with Clark’s, they just dropped that equipment off at the site. Said there wasn’t nobody around to sign for it, so they just left it at the gate.”

“It’s a manned site, what do they mean there wasn’t–?”

“No idea,” Joel says, cutting across him. “Just said there wasn’t anybody to take the delivery.”

Anna’s head slowly turns in your direction, likely to take another dumb selfie or to ask some random question about your outfit, but you turn away, refusing to meet her hazel-eyed stare. Refusing to let her take your attention away from this phone call. From Joel.

Your dad sighs, runs a hand down his cheek. “I hope it’s still there when I get to it. Sure you gave ‘em the right address on Monday?”

“I wrote it down exactly how you text me it.”

Joel’s voice sounds flatter than normal. Less trademark Joel grumbly and more tired, deflated. A little irritated. It bruises your heart hearing him and not chiming in, not teasing him for potentially getting the street name wrong or something. Not letting him know you’re here.

Your dad does that anyway, though.

“Well,” he sighs again, hitting the turn signal, “I’m on my way to Frank’s – girls are havin’ another one of their wild nights out. I’ll head straight from there to the site ‘n make sure everything’s in place. Thanks, Joel.”

“You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.”

The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

No. He was talking to you. He knew you’d be listening. Knew that conversation would mean much more to you than it ever could to your dad. And he knew you’d be hanging on to every word he spoke.

He’s home all night, which translates to: he’s only ever fifteen minutes away if you wind up needing him. If you end up wanting him.

You’ve spent the last four days purposefully stopping yourself from wanting him. Your thumb has hovered over his name in your contacts more times than you’d care to admit. Mostly at night, when your dad goes to bed and there’s eight hours of quiet – quiet you’d usually fill by annoying Joel, striking up a conversation at midnight when he’s about to sleep.

What the fuck would you even say if he did pick up? Would you be mad? Would you yell? Or would you just break down, sob a few incoherent sentences down the line to him and pray that he doesn’t hang up?

But then – would he even pick up? It’s not a thought you want to entertain much. That sound of ringing and ringing, and no gruff, Hey, baby, at the other end.

Your chest hurts. You take a gulp of air.

You’d happily have him never touch you again if he’d just come the fuck back.

Anna slaps your arm and Joel’s face is wiped clean from your mind. “C’mon,” she chirps, and nods out of your window.

You turn to see the faded blue brick walls of Frank’s, clusters of people outside clutching cigarettes and glasses, holding hands up to shield their eyes from the sunlight and tipping their heads back in laughter at one another. Kara stands among them, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. She waves when you catch her eye, stumbling out of the car in a daze.

Anna’s arm links through yours, almost violently, and she skips along the sidewalk to Kara, who joins your chain. The three of you stroll into the bar together and over to Sam, who smiles genially in welcome.

“Hello, ladies,” he sings, leaning in. “What can I do ya for?”

“Get us drunk, Sam!” Anna exclaims, rapping her knuckles on the bar top, and, for the first time tonight, you find yourself nodding in agreement with her.

Get me –

fucking –

hammered.

----------

You get your wish. Sam hands you a cold beer, and within twenty minutes you’re ordering a second. Anna and Kara opt for cocktails, some bright pink concoction that you don’t even bother to ask the name of, you just lean over the bar and tell Sam to make up a third.

And then there are the shots, two each, which are a hysterically terrible idea. You know it as you tip your head back, sickly taste of sambuca spilling down your throat and taking with it the very last of your good sense, apparently.

All the while, that phone call rattles through your head. Joel’s voice swings between your ears like a pendulum. His dry tone, the borderline contempt he spoke to your dad with. The thought of who he’s been with and what he’s been doing either side of that call burns like the drink in your belly, and forces you back up to the bar for another to wash him away with.

You rock against the dark wood, sticky with alcohol, and hoist yourself up onto a stool. “One peer, blease, sir,” you garble to Sam, one finger in the air. “Oh, wait…”

You throw your hand down onto the bar with a roar of laughter and lean back, forgetting there’s no back to your chair. It tilts back, and your hands fumble to grab the edge of the bar, but it’s too far, too late, and you land on the solid floor with a clatter – metal leg of the stool digging into your own.

“Fuck,” you hiss, dragging yourself back to your feet. A thin line of dark red blood cuts from halfway down your calf, streaming down into your boot.

“Are you okay?” Sam yells, stood frozen with the beer and bottle opener still in his hands.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, clambering to your feet. You don’t even convince yourself.

Sam doesn’t let go of the bottle when your fingers curve around it. He looks you dead in the eye and asks, “What’s goin’ on?” and you know he won’t let go until you answer him.

“Nothin’. I’m fine.”

Until you answer him truthfully, that is.

“I’m…It’s just…I got a lot goin’ on up here.” Your shaky finger draws a circle against your temple, and your eyes flutter closed.

“I can see that. Is this really a good ide–”

“Well, howdy, clumsy!”

The owner of whatever fucking annoying voice just shrieked through your ears slaps his hand down on your shoulder, almost toppling you for the second time in five minutes, and you twist around to find a pair of red, blotchy cheeks and almost equally red hair to match, stood before you.

“Hi…?” You squint your eyes to get a better look, the figure swaying with the room behind him.

“Hi.” He’s still smiling. Two huge front teeth, like a pair of overgrown Tic Tacs. “You have no idea who I am, do you? That’s…embarrassing for me.”

“Zack!” another voice screams over the bassline of the music. “Are you fucking coming or not, dude?”

A pale, jittery guy with a dark green t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame barges into the red-haired boy’s side, and a few seconds after his mouth stops moving, you register what he’s said.

“No – f-fucking – way,” you breathe, staring him up and down. His red flannel is tucked into his jeans, sealed by a brown leather belt. There’s a longhorn head on the buckle. “Zack? From Costco? What the fuck’d you do, stalk me?”

He laughs awkwardly, looking from you to over your shoulder, where Sam’s still holding your beer.

“Sorry–” you mutter, shaking your head. “I’m not at my best right now.”

“It’s cool,” he replies, grinning. “You look like you’re having a good night. I’m out with my buddies. This is Eric.”

Eric gives you a nod – his blond fringe jumps, and he jerks his head to sweep it back out of his eyes. “Nice to meet you,” he says, before rounding again on Zack. “Seriously, bro, he says he’s not waitin’ around this time. C’mon!”

“We were gonna head to the rooftop if you wanted to come?” Zack raises his eyebrows, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as Eric and another two figures make off for the stairs at the other end of the bar.

“Sure.” You blindly reach for your beer and Sam relents, letting it slip from his grasp. He calls your name as you trot off, and you turn for one second to give his worried stare a thumbs up, before swirling back toward the stairs. No second thought.

This isn’t the night for second thoughts.

The rooftop is quieter, less crowded. Background noise made up of passing cars, a siren in the distance, and the muffled music from downstairs. You wander over to where Zack stands with Eric and a couple others: a short guy with wireframe glasses, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, and someone you think you almost recognize.

His black V-neck looks like it might burst at the seams around his chest, swollen with muscle. Thick neck, holding up a square jawline, and a face heavy with features which mirror the broad body below.

And a thick smell of marijuana which follows his every move.

Zack shuffles to the side to let you into the circle. You shimmy in between him and Eric.

V-neck pulls a small metal case from his back pocket and fishes a cigarette out of it. Eyes start to shift around the group, the boys glancing over shoulders to check who’s watching.

“Are we…? Is that weed?” you blurt out.

“Shut the fuck up!” Eric hisses, jabbing his elbow into your ribcage.

V-neck eyes you down quickly. It’s the first he looks at you, and it puts a sickly feeling through your body. Sends the alcohol hurtling over itself in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows and wrap your arms around yourself, your beer bottle against your lips. “Sorry, jeez…”

“This is Knox,” Zack mutters, as Knox lights the cigarette.

He takes one hit, inhaling deeply with his chin in the air, and passes it to the boy in the hoodie. Another cloud of smoke joins Knox’s, slowly dispersing above your heads, and then it’s Eric’s turn. With a cough, his fist against his lips, he passes it to Zack. Soon, the air around you is thick and white, and Zack’s handing you the joint.

You lift it to your lips and inhale. The feeling hits you instantly; your body feels light, your face warm, your eyes blink in and out of focus, watching as a blurry shadow begins to follow your hand when you pass the joint back to Knox.

A couple more circuits, and the roach is pressed into the ground by Knox’s boot. The group separates; Zack and his friends fall into some metal chairs around a table, sparking up a debate on the best Lord of the Rings film, and you float around nearby.

“You a friend of Zack’s?” Knox asks, downing what’s left of his whiskey.

“Hm…Not really. We met at Costco, ‘cause I was there to get some party stuff for my dad’s friend’s daughter’s– Well, she’s my friend, too, and she wanted this garden party, and my dad’s friend was like, What the fuck is a garden party? you know, so I had to go help ‘im get stuff for it, with my dad, who was kinda a buzzkill, but anyway…Z-Zack helped me lift some sodas into my cart.”

Knox nods once. Fingers locked tight around his empty glass. He’s staring you down like you’re fresh meat.

You purse your lips and stare back, but quickly get bored when he doesn’t speak, and you miss Anna and her selfies and her sambuca shots. As you’re about to wander back to the door, though, Knox steps in front of you.

“So, you’re here often, then?”

Your shoulder knocks into his. “Huh?”

“Saw you last week. You were pretty spaced, don’t know if you remember.”

The memory whips past your eyes quicker than you can catch it, frames lingering only long enough for you to see Knox’s thick arm linked with yours outside Frank’s, the smell of weed in your nostrils, and the bright lights of Joel’s truck. And then it’s gone, before you can get a good grip of it.

“I’m…I remember now. Yeah. No, I’m not here much, I just…Rough week.”

He nods again, and you suspect he hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said since he got you alone. “You want another drink?”

The way he’s looking at you makes you feel more and more nauseous. Makes you want to turn and run back downstairs, slot in beside Anna and Kara, bury yourself between their shoulders and stay there until they decide they want to go home.

It makes you feel the way it felt last week, when he halted you outside the bar on your way to Joel. And suddenly the memory is soaring in front of your eyes again.

Your hand on Joel’s elbow. The frown on his face. Whitened knuckles around the steering wheel. ‘s go, pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl.

“Yeah,” you tell Knox. “Yeah, I do.”

You follow him downstairs where he nods to Sam at the bar.

Sam ignores him, instead glares at you. “Can we talk…?” he asks, but Knox cuts across him.

“Beer, right?” he checks with you, and you nod. “And another whiskey.”

Your friend hesitantly grabs the drinks, glancing up at you every five seconds in a question. You respond by nodding slowly, feeling your head bounce each time you do.

You lazily scan the room for Anna and Kara, who you spot in a booth over by the window. The spotlights overhead reflect in the sparkles of Anna’s dress; Kara’s holding the straw of her drink between her lips, bobbing her head to the music. You saunter over, twirling on your way.

“Where have you been, baby?” Anna calls, giggling when you fall against the booth, palms flat on the wooden table.

“Upstairs,” you mumble, and then feel a tap on your back.

“Forgot this,” Knox says, pushing the beer into your hand. “You wanna go dance?”

Anna’s face twists into one of worry, and you give her an apologetic smile and spin off, following the wide frame to a dark corner of the bar where he takes your wrist and pulls your body against his.

He’s not doing much dancing, rather, he’s just keeping a solid grip on your waist, watching as you rock side to side, taking a couple shallow sips of your drink. You pull on his arm, Fucking move, dude, but he only leans further back, until he’s shrouded in shadows and pulling you into them with him.

When he leans into your space and snakes a drunken arm tight around your neck, you don’t retreat. You lean in, too, and plant your lips on his.

It’s messy, it’s a little gross. He tastes sour, weed and alcohol on his tongue, and it makes you wish you’d never started kissing him. Still, you take it further. You open your mouth more, letting more of him in, soak your own tongue, wet your lips. You barely even feel it when his hands move south and cup your ass, and it’s only when he squeezes that you wriggle out of his grip.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking hold of his sleeve to steady yourself. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, says something short that you don’t hear, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He’s smaller, much shorter than Joel. Your shoulders almost match the height of his. But he’s more built, he’s bulkier, in an uncomfortable way. Like trying to put your arms around a giant balloon or something. There’s no softness, no enclosing feeling when your weight presses against his. Just the huge surface of his chest, the hollow feeling of two mismatched bodies unwillingly pushed together.

Not strong. Not safe. Not secure. Not him.

But you’re kissing him again, because it’s the first time in five days you’ve felt something other than your aching chest and heavy head. You’re kissing him because you feel unwanted and unloved and, even though he seems almost as hammered as you are, it feels good to have someone want to be on you.

You’re kissing him because you’re trying to pretend it’s Joel.

Only he tastes…well, disgusting, and he smells different. He’s sweating from the heat in the bar, and his arms aren’t placed somewhere to make you feel wrapped in his grasp, they’re placed anywhere that he can pinch, squeeze, or otherwise fondle.

Joel’s face swims in and out of your head; a smile as he pulls you in for a kiss, a smirk when he’s telling you off, soft eyes when he’s listening to you talk. It makes you want to throw up.

That might just be the drinks.

Someone taps you furiously on the shoulder, and you push Knox off your body.

When your eyes fail to meet Sam’s, he takes your wrist and drags you behind the bar, ripping the beer bottle from your grasp and almost launching it into the sink. It smashes, and the liquid pours down the drain.

“Hey, what the f–?”

“I’m gonna call your dad,” he yells, deafening to your numb ears.

“Do not fucking call my dad,” you slur, laughing a little. “I’m fine! I’m having fun.”

“You’re fucking wasted. And that guy – he’s bad news.”

“Does it matter?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Who even are–? What the fuck is up with you right now? Yes, it fucking matters!”

“Not my dad,” you repeat as you back away, staggering over to the booth where your friends sit.

Anna storms over to meet you, slipping her wrist around yours and bringing you to a halt. “Did Sam find you?�� she asks. Her hands plant on your shoulders, and she dips her head until you’re eye to eye.

She’s blurry. She’s nothing but shapes, and movements, and noises. And she’s fucking pissing you off.

“Can everyone just – get the fuck off of me?” you groan, stumbling backwards, and Anna links her hands with yours to stop you from collapsing.

She pulls you back upright, leaning in close. Her head shakes, you can see that much. But her expression is cloudy, and her hands don’t let go of yours so easily when you try to pull away. The orb-like shapes in front of you mutter your name, only it’s not Anna’s voice, it’s his.

Anna’s babbling, panicked tone drives through your skull. “She’s been drinking, like, a lot, and I think she might’ve had some weed upstairs. But Sam said he saw –”

“C’mon, kid,” his voice says again, and there’s a heavy arm pulling you off to the door.

“Get – off – of – me.” You struggle in his grasp, pushing his body away from yours, fingers expecting to find the V-neck collar of a black shirt and instead finding –

Buttons. The edges of a green flannel shirt. And a soft cotton tee underneath. And then his scent washes over you: warm, sweet, earthy. Grounding.

“Joel…” you whisper, thick with fear and intoxication and need.

His jaw angles down, you catch one fleeting glimpse of his chin, graying beard, tight lips hidden beneath it, and then you’re shoving his chest again, attempting to push him as far away from your own body as he’ll go.

Only he doesn’t move.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, palms flat on his pecs. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He says your name in a hazy blur, says, “We’re goin’ home,” and you almost laugh in his face.

“I don’t f-fucking think so.”

“Yeah? Well, I do. Thanks, Anna, I got her.”

“Hey,” a fourth voice joins the chorus, “hey, you know this guy?”

Knox pushes past Joel’s arm, unlinking your fingers from his, and takes your shoulder with one rough hand. All your anger, all your rage at Joel, and yet, the second you’re separated from him, the only thing on your mind is having his hand back around yours.

Joel’s upper lip twitches, he stares at the back of Knox’s head and then scoffs, reaches by him again to take your wrist. You let him have it. “Come on,” he says.

Knox is rounding on him, holding Joel back with a palm flat to his chest. “I ain’t too comfortable lettin’ her head outta here with some random old man, dude…”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the –

Joel’s jaw ticks. His expression falls blank, narrowed eyes looking up and down Knox’s frame as you tremble behind it, Anna’s steady arm around your shoulders.

“Take your hand off of me, and move aside,” he snarls, voice dangerous. You can hear the threat, and at the same time, the desperate attempt from within himself to hold off.

“Hey,” Anna reaches forward, tapping Knox’s shoulder three times with a glittery nail, “she knows him. It’s fine. He’s fine.”

“Nah, man,” Knox hisses back, “who the fuck even are you? You ain’t takin’ her anywhere.”

You step forward, putting yourself between the two of them, hands clumsily landing on each of their shoulders. “He’s a f…my dad’s friend,” you slur, eyes unfocused.

Knox isn’t listening. He hasn’t listened the entire fucking night. His eyes are set on Joel’s as he wraps a tight fist around your free arm, trying to pull you closer to him. Only he’s hurting you, and your fingers struggle to pry yourself free, so you look up at Joel.

You couldn’t see Anna’s expression. Couldn’t make out the worry on her face that her voice clued you in on. You could barely even see Sam, when he dragged you out of the dark corner of the bar.

But you can see Joel. See the shadow his brows cast over his glower, see his thin lips, see the tightening of his jaw. See the rage inside him like it’s an alarm beacon, flashing red from behind his eyes.

Knox tugs angrily on your wrist. “You just gonna let this asshole ruin your night?”

“Let go of m-me,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the bar’s eyes on you. Your face reddens with heat from the alcohol, doubled by your embarrassment.

When he hears you, Joel’s face contorts into one you’ve never seen on his face in your life. Fury, disgust and fury, twisting his lip and tugging on his brows. He leans in and rips yours and Knox’s hands apart, pulling you free and shifting you behind his body with as much effort as it’d take him to click his fingers. Your weak hand reaches out to take a fistful of his shirt, holding onto him at his spine.

The men square up to one another, Joel at least four inches taller and, despite Knox’s built form, far broader. Knox takes a step forward and Joel matches.

“Joel…” you whisper, catching Anna’s gaping stare over his shoulder.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Miller?” Sam edges in from behind Knox. “I’m gonna have to ask that you…don’t…do this, but if you have to, can y’all maybe move it out to the street?”

“Do I gotta do somethin’?” Joel asks Knox. You pull in closer to his back, trying to hide your face from the spotlight cast on you by what feels like thousands of drunken eyes staring directly at you.

Knox thinks it over for a moment. You can see Zack watching like a deer in the headlights from behind his buddy. He’s seen Joel before, and you know from the way his eyes stick on him that he recognizes him. Remembers how briskly he swept you out of the soft drinks section, how blunt he was about it.

The V-neck swells with the deep inhale its wearer takes, and then he shakes his head, sighing. Smug smirk thick across his lips.

“Nah, man. I didn’t think she was gonna be worth the fuck anyways, so.”

Joel clicks his teeth, gives his head one quick shake, mutters a resigned, “Alright,” then reaches back, and nudges you gently by the stomach until you’re safely out of reach.

And then he swings.

Once, catching Knox across the corner of his jaw, sending his face skyward. The crowd around the three of you gasps. Knox’s burly chest twists, and he staggers backward. His hands come up to clutch his face before Joel’s taking the collar of his shirt in his fist, reeling him in and holding him steady.

“Joel!” you yell, but he doesn’t fucking hear you.

His second blow lands square on Knox’s nose with a crack loud enough even for your numb ears to hear over the thudding music. Blood sprays from his nostrils and floods down into his mouth, smearing across his cheek as Joel’s knuckles ricochet off the square face. The crimson pours down his chin, spattering onto his shirt, bright and shocking against the stretched black material.

Joel lets him drop and he collapses onto all fours, coughing blood and spit and whatever the fuck else onto the dark floor.

“Fuck!” Knox screams, fingers trembling over his burst nose – thick, dark droplets running down his hands. “You motherfucker, you broke my fucking nose!”

Joel stoops down, takes the back of Knox’s shirt in two rough hands and hauls him up until he’s limp on his knees.

“I ever see you around here again,” he growls, “I ever find out you’ve been anywhere near her, as much as looked in the same fuckin’ direction as her, I’ll do worse ‘n break your Goddamn nose. You hear me?”

Knox whimpers, more blood dribbles from between his lips, and Joel throws him down. He turns back to you, massaging his knuckles with his thumb, and grabs your hand.

Your voice is weak with shock. “What the f-uck was that?”

“Just – come on,” he says, dragging you out of Frank’s without another word.

He leads your wobbly form down the street, past chattering crowds toward his black truck, opening the door for you and helping your unsteady limbs up into the passenger side, before he closes the door over and strides around to the driver’s side.

When he shuts his door – more of a slam – he sighs, head leaning back. His hand clenches and then relaxes, loosening his knuckles, hissing anytime the quickly-darkening skin stretches.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“What you sorry for?”

You shrug. Your mouth trips over words. “…gettin’ you into a barfight.”

He doesn’t look over at you. Just Hms and switches the ignition on, pulling away from the busy curb.

“Where’s m-my dad?” you slur.

“Work. Site inspection, remember?”

You nod, turning back to the road when you start to feel motion sick. Your eyes feel like they’re spinning in their sockets, your stomach flips with the slightest turn. “He get that delivery?” you ask, letting Joel know you heard the phone call earlier.

His jaw turns in your direction. Letting you know he knows you heard it. “Yeah. He’ll be home in a couple hours.”

“Did Sam c-call him?”

“No. Why?”

You lean your head against the passenger window, the cold distracting your brain from the ache in your head. The streetlights sail by in a blur. The engine rattles through the glass.

“Asked ‘im not to.”

“Yeah? ‘n why’s that?”

Your head rolls back onto the headrest as you decide on an answer. I didn’t want him seeing me drunk and high. I don’t care about you seeing me drunk and high. I just wanted to see you.

“’s never seen me drunk.”

“Or high?”

You snort. “I’m not…”

When your head slants to the left to look at Joel, his face turns from yours. He was just looking at you, and you missed it. Probably had that look on his face, that Nice try, kid expression.

“Okay…” you admit, spiritless, “a little high, then.”

“Anna was the one who called,” Joel says. “Said you were hammered, some guy was all over you, ‘n Sam watched him put somethin’ in your drink. They couldn’t find you anywhere. She was fuckin’ hysterical.”

Your head bobs with the moving truck. “When’d he put someth…?”

Joel shrugs. “I dunno. But I believe it.”

So do I, you think. Knox was on you from the minute he saw you. Tight grip around your waist, your wrist, drawing you into him with beer and weed and whatever else he had in his pockets. The comment that had warranted him two bone-breaking punches from Joel all but confirmed the intentions he had in mind. And now you feel fucking stupid.

“I didn’t really…I only had a couple sips of it,” you hear yourself saying, head heating with embarrassment – an attempt to convince him, or maybe more yourself, that you’re not as dumb as leaving your drink to be roofied.

Your voice sounds pathetic, though, and Joel doesn’t say anything to make you feel better. Doesn’t say anything to make you feel worse, either – the silence does that by itself.

You bring your knees up to your chin, nestling a little into the seat. It could almost feel like nothing’s happened, nothing’s changed, except you’re intoxicated, and Joel’s hands are firmly by his person. Not on your thigh, or tangled between your fingers like they usually would be.

You study him. Stare at every part of him like it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see it, until the gentle curve of his nose and the glint of his watch face are burned into the back of your eyelids when you close them over. Face lit red from the brake lights in front, right hand sitting idly on his thigh.

He looks like your Joel. Almost. Just a little closed off. Distant.

But he came to get you, right? Damn near punched Knox’s lights out, took you by the hand, led you back to the safety of his truck. He came straight to Frank’s as soon as Anna called. And he’s taking you home. He’s looking out for you.

So why doesn’t he feel like your Joel?

Well. You can wager a pretty solid guess. It starts with L and ends with comma, Receptionist at Clark’s Plant Hire.

The dark silhouette of your house looms overhead as Joel pulls into your drive. Sure enough, your dad’s not home.

The engine cuts and your head drops, eyes fixing on your hands clasped in your lap. You know Joel’s watching you. What the fuck is he thinking about?

Fuck that. Don’t think about that. Let’s not dive into that pool of imagination.

“Well, thanks.” You do your best to smile, without really looking at him. Your fingers find the door handle and you tug on it, pushing it open and spilling out onto your driveway.

You hear Joel sniff behind you. “Need a hand?”

“I’m good,” you call back, only just managing to stay on your feet.

The cold air helps a little to waken you up, sharpen your senses, but the world around you is still a whir of dull color and shapelessness, and you wobble across to the house in a route of zig-zags, boots almost tripping over thin air as you go. When you reach your front door, you hear his truck lock and the shadow of him appears by your side.

“I said I’m good.”

“I ain’t leaving you, kid. You’re hammered.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but then he’s taking the keys out of your hand and unlocking the door himself, hand on your back as he ushers you into your own house.

“I’m f-fine,” you repeat, tripping over the doorway.

“Look it.”

You meander over to the stairs, and when your foot manages to find the first step, Joel says your name. Your gaze sweeps across the floor until it meets his boots, travels up his legs, and finally rests on his outstretched hand.

“Water,” he tells you.

“I’m fine,” you say, the word losing meaning the more you utter it. “I wanna go – to bed.”

He shakes his head, and then tilts it in the direction of the kitchen.

You groan, mumble something about him being such an asshole, and walk straight by his hand.

Joel doesn’t react. Just follows you and hits the lights, which burn your eyes when they flicker to life. You wince and point up to them.

“Off,” you bluntly order, and he grunts, stepping back to oblige. You’re plunged straight back into darkness.

You’re holding yourself unsteadily against the edge of the kitchen island, whole body swaying. The room is fucking spinning, the lights out back swirling with it in a blur of white motion before your eyes. You swallow dryly and turn around to focus on Joel.

He’s filling a glass over the sink. “What happened to your leg?” he asks over his shoulder.

You turn your knee, examining the dent in your calf where the stool leg cut into you. The dry burgundy stain like a backwards seam line on your skin, emerging from a bright red bruise slowly fading to deep purple.

“Fell off a stool,” you mutter, angling it in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Joel Hms again. “You got anything to cover it?”

You shrug, having lost any and all energy to barter back with him. He slides the glass across the countertop to you, followed by a bottle of painkillers, then turns back to the open drawer he pulled them from and begins rummaging for a band-aid.

Your shaky hand lifts the glass to your lips. It’s cold and slippery in your grasp, drops of condensation running over your fingers like the blood from Knox’s nose had run over his. The more you tighten your grip, the harder it becomes to hold, until it’s sliding from your clutch.

“Easy,” Joel murmurs, appearing at the side of you and placing his hands over yours, holding the glass still.

“Your knuckles are bleeding,” you say, eyes focusing and then unfocusing on the marks at the base of his fingers, the dabs of dark red where the skin has burst.

He slowly lowers your hands until the glass is safely back on the counter, and then pulls away from you, drawing his swollen knuckles in to his body.

“They’re bleedin’,” you repeat, looking up at him.

“I know they’re bleedin’.”

“Let me see,” you step forward, “Joel. Let me–”

He catches your hands in his. Pushes them back down. Stares at the counter, sighs instead of replying.

Your eyes sting, filling with tears that crowd your already-blurred vision. The punch you feel to your gut brings you to your senses as if it drains you of every substance in your system all at once.

It’s like he’s broken up with you all over again. And it pisses you the fuck off.

“Fuck you,” you whisper into the dark, and he doesn’t move. Doesn’t lift his eyes, doesn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, so much.”

You’re staring him down, what little you can see of him in the pale light cascaded onto him through the shades. The crease between his brows, more prominent with the frown on his face; the line his lips form with the tight clench of his jaw.

Fucking look at me, you think. He can say something back – anything. You can stand and hiss horrible words at one another, yell at each other if that’s what he wants to do. Argue until you’re blue in the face, until the alcohol’s all dried up and the moonlight on his chest is replaced by sunlight. Just fucking look at me.

“You’re an asshole and a liar, you know that?”

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Just stringing me along this whole time.”

You blink away the tears before they can fall, making room for more. They’re forming rapidly, each time heavier, and thicker, and angrier. But fuck it, right? This is over. He’s done, and you’re done. Just ignore the pain of it, stick your finger in the wound and keep pushing until you hit bone.

“That guy you punched? He was all over me. All fucking night.”

Joel’s voice is toneless. He’s already over the conversation before it’s begun. “I know he was, kid.”

“We kissed.”

“I know that, too.”

“Had his hands all over me. ‘n if it hadn’t been him, it woulda been literally any other guy in there.”

The words are starting to bleed into one another in your inebriated state. Anger turning to rage turning to fear turning to shame turning to hurt turning back into anger.

“Woulda kissed any one of ‘em. Mighta let them take me home, mighta let them fuck me.”

His head gives an involuntary shake and he blinks. Like he’s trying to wash the thought away. The image of you under someone else, moaning someone else’s name, pulling someone else into your body.

“That piss you off? It make you hate me?”

And then he looks up. Finally, his gaze locks with yours. And his eyes are just as glassy, just as fucking full of tears as yours. He replies with the worst thing he could possibly come up with. It forces the breath from your lungs in a painful exhale.

“There ain’t a thing in this world that you could do that would make me hate you, you know that.”

And then your tears start to fall. Your façade breaks. Stone crumbles. Dam bursts. They fall onto your cheeks, searing on your heated skin, rolling down onto the front of your dress in dark splatter marks.

Through a sob, you choke out another, “Fuck you, Joel,” and then, when you catch your breath, “you don’t get to – to sleep with someone else, and make me feel like the idiot for it.”

He looks up at you with a dark expression, lips locked tight like he’s refusing to let something slip. He shakes his head, and then says, “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

You scoff. A drunken, angry scoff. “You don’t wanna talk about her? When’s a good fuckin’ time, then? When suits you and f-fuckin’ – Lois?”

He falls quiet. Presses his fingers into his eyes. Sighs. “Baby,” he says into his palms.

“’m not your fucking baby,” you whisper between your teeth.

“Baby.” He drops his hands. Looks you dead in the eye. “I did not sleep with Lois.”

You’re frozen to the spot. Your lips fall apart, coated in salty tears. You’re holding your breath, though you’re not sure what for. The room stops spinning for all of ten seconds until he speaks again.

“I didn’t. I know what that message sounded like. Know how you musta heard it. But nothin’ happened, nothin’ has ever happened. Nothin’ would ever happen,” he says, a little more animated, tossing his hands in the air.

You stare between his eyes. He’s still enough that your fucked brain can focus on them, can see plain as day – even in the dark kitchen, even through your cloudy tears and all of the poison in your blood – that he’s telling the truth.

“Ex-plain,” you say dryly, looking down to his lips.

Joel sighs again. “I told you I had work to do. Had to head over to Clark’s to order that stuff for your dad. Saw her there, said hi. ‘n that’s all.”

Your eyes slowly close over, wet lashes on hot, dehydrated skin. Your ears are ringing, your body aching. You breathe a sigh as what he says sinks into your slow, throbbing brain, and then lull to one side, slumping against the counter.

“You didn’t…you didn’t think this was worth tellin’ me on Monday?”

“Tried, baby. You were gone. You were so angry; thought it’d be better if I let you cool off.”

“You’re – a fucking – idiot,” you seethe, shaking your head. It’s starting to pound again, sharp pain right behind your eyes like they’re being tugged backwards.

“Well, tonight, I guess that makes two of us.”

You grimace at him. “Lettin’ me go for four fuckin’ days thinking that –”

“– thinkin’ that I would actually cheat on ya? ‘s that what you think a’ me?”

“What did you ex-pect? You didn’t exactly try to – c-clear it up.” You step back, lifting a hand to cup your forehead with a groan. A mix of frustration, pain, and exhaustion in the form of a slow-moving ache hauls its way from one temple to the other.

“Baby, I gotta get you to bed,” Joel says, stepping forward. “We can talk about this when you’re able to see straight.”

“I’m fine,” you whimper, but it’s the least convincing you’ve sounded all night.

“Kid–”

“Don’t fucking call me kid. Like it’s some pet name, like you give a damn about me–”

“You think I don’t give a damn about you? You think I don’t care?”

Your head wobbles in response. It sends the room hurtling again, Joel’s figure swimming in and out of your vision. You grab the countertop again in attempt to freeze him in place.

He tuts and turns his jaw. “You know how much sleep I’ve had these last few days? Not a fuckin’ minute. I ain’t slept a single night, worryin’ about you ‘n what’s goin’ through your head. Like I give a damn about you. I wish I didn’t give a damn about you, baby. Make my life a whole lot easier.”

“Then, show me. Fucking prove it to me.”

“Prove it to you how? Break some asshole’s nose in a bar? Take you home when you’re wasted?”

Yeah. And also, no. Not just that.

You seethe. “You know what the fuck I mean. Do something about it.”

“I can’t,” he says, raising his voice. “Can’t take you out on dates, can’t put my arm around you, can’t kiss you ‘less there ain’t nobody watchin’. I can’t do none of what I wanna do. This is – it’s fuckin’…”

“…impossible,” you breathe, thick and slurred.

Joel lifts his head then, sees the look in your eye. He sniffs. “’s pretty damn hard, yeah.”

You tip your head back, feel the weight of your tears and your eyes and your brain slap against the back of your skull, a nauseating pull at the nape of your neck. You’re defeated. Nothing left in you to argue, talk, even so much as breathe.

Your words drag between one another, each one beginning with the remnants of the one before it.

“Just - take me to bed.”

He’s standing inches from you, hands hovering over your own, hesitant or unwilling or fucking afraid to touch you.

You ball your fists against his chest and give him one tiny, ineffective shove. But he’s bigger, stronger, sober. He doesn’t budge. Accepting defeat, you breathe one last, “Fuck you,” and brush past him, staggering out of the kitchen.

Joel – water and painkillers in hand – watches you like a hawk going upstairs, arms braced for you to lean on anytime you begin to tumble backward. When you do, his hand brushes your elbow, and you whip it out of his reach and reel it back in to your body.

He settles you on the bed just like he did six days ago, after your rodeo night. Only he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t take your boots off. Just walks away, grabs a tee from your chest of drawers and hands it to you to slip into by yourself.

You don’t even have to open your eyes. You know which one he’s given you. Can tell from the feel of the material, the cracked lettering on the chest, that it’s his Rangers shirt, the same one he put on you the first night you slept together. Smells more like you than it does him these days, but feels just like he always does. And as he waits a safe two-feet from you for you to change, no hands reaching out to help, to fix your hair, to stroke your cheek – you think the shirt will just have to do.

Everything he does is close enough for you to recognize him as Joel, and yet distant enough for him to be someone totally different. Every move he makes is pre-determined, all outcomes already analyzed and mapped, all risks carefully averted. It’s like he’s walking a minefield.

He hands you a couple of pills and helps with lifting the water to your lips. Then he sits at the end of your bed and applies the band-aid while you drag a makeup wipe clumsily over your face.

His thumbs linger on your fucked leg, rubbing over the padded dressing a few times after it’s stuck on, gentle and slow. Eyes never leaving the spot your skin broke open. And then, when you’re done with it, he takes the makeup wipe and quickly runs it down your calf, cleaning the dry blood from your skin.

Touch as delicate as though he were holding a rose – fingers brushing over your body like you might tear or fall apart at the slightest movement. When he’s done, he makes his way around to the opposite side of the bed.

“There’s a sleeping bag in the hall closet if you’d rather take the floor,” you tell him, rolling back and pulling your knees to your chin.

“Nah,” Joel says with the groan of a near-fifty-year-old man, kicking his boots off and propping his pillows up. “We’re close enough by now.”

He pulls the flannel from his shoulders and tosses it to the end of the bed, then slips in under the covers beside you, clasping his hands on his chest. His entire body a perfectly polite distance away.

Your wrist lifts, weak and limp, and your fingers ghost across his red wine knuckles. He winces a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches as you trace the curves of his hands, surfing the valleys where the bone drops, then back up to the peaks where the blood breaks from his skin.

“You didn’t have to…” you whisper. “He was just some dirtbag.”

He sniffs. Replies to you in his head, translated through the look in his eye. Wasn’t all about the dirtbag.

And you know it. Knox was just an asshole who took the hit for the last four days. Sure, he deserved it. But his big, ugly face and the uglier words which happened to tumble out of it were simply a punchbag full of sand; Joel’s fist hammering into it was as much about defending you as it was about punishing someone, anyone, the first fucker who wound up on the wrong side of him, for everything that had happened.

He's angry. At himself and at you and at this entire fucking mess. And you’re angry. At yourself and at him and at the very same thing. The two of you lie side by side in the dark, both broken and bruised and bleeding. You let out a small, pathetic sigh, and Joel echoes it.

His eyes close over and you stare at him. Stare at the faint lines on his face that slowly fade as he relaxes more, falls closer and closer to sleeping. Watch his chest slowly rising and falling, and his hands moving up and down with it. His entire body is still. Like it’s the first calm he’s had in a while. The first time he’s been able to settle.

And you stare at him. For hours, feels like. You stare at him until sleep, or alcohol, or something stronger coats over your vision and sweeps him out of focus.

----------

The wall opposite your window is lit with a single stripe of bright, nauseating orange, the sunrise staring in between your drapes. There are birds screaming outside. Your head is still throbbing and your throat feels like splintered wood and the other side of your bed is empty.

He can’t have left long ago. The mattress is still warm under the sheets he’s folded back over. His shirt is sat folded on the pillowcase.

You grab it and haul yourself out of bed – head still spinning, you trip out of your room.

He’s gotta be in the kitchen. He’ll be standing at the counter drinking a coffee, he’ll mumble a Mornin’, then pull you in and kiss the top of your head. He’ll ask how you’re feeling and if you want some breakfast. He’ll be Joel again.

“Joel…?” you call, rounding the bottom of the stairs toward the kitchen. No response.

The clock on the oven reads 5:57. The kitchen is deserted. When you loop around the island – as if he’d be crouched behind it or something – you notice an empty mug sitting in the sink, trails of black coffee at the bottom.

Your shaking hands cup around the ceramic. It’s cooling, but it’s warm.

He’s been in here.

“Joel!” you yell. Come out, now, this ain’t funny anymore.

You hear the squeak of wheels rolling to a stop outside and flee over to the living room windows, daybreak burning your eyes when you peer through the shades.

You’re frantically searching, going blind with the bright rays singeing your corneas, pacing back and forth between each window to get an angle on the street that will show you his truck. Show you him.

You don’t even notice the sound of keys in the door, or the rattle it makes as it pushes open.

“Hey, kiddo.”

You whip around. The owner of the voice lifts a hand to his puffy eyes and rubs them, yawning.

“H-hi, Dad.”

You look fucking insane. Hair all over the place, makeup haphazardly removed, Joel’s flannel shirt hanging from your fist. Wearing nothing but a long tee, a blood-seeped band-aid on your calf.

“Good night?” he says with a sleepy chuckle. “I am pooped. You want anythin’ before I head up to bed?”

You shake your head, but he’s not looking. Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“Alright, I’m gonn–”

“Where’s Joel?”

Your desperation has reached a new high. Your pride, a new low. You just want him back, don’t care who knows or thinks or suspects what. Just come back.

“Huh?”

“Joel? He brought me home and I woke up and he’s gone.”

“He – Well, I…I suppose he’ll be at work, hon. He can’t stick around here all day.” He smiles weakly, and then swivels on his heels.

“He text you?”

He sighs, his back still turned. “What has gotten into…? Here.”

Your dad twists and throws his phone toward you. It lands on the carpet at your feet. Then he turns back and begins climbing the stairs.

“See ya in a few hours.”

When he turns the corner on the landing and his footsteps fade out of earshot, you bend and your fingers clutch his phone.

He has one unread text from Joel.

You unlock the phone with a click and open up the message thread. Your half-drunk, half-sleepy eyes flit across the screen, leaning back against the arm of the couch to read every word he ever sent your dad.

Joel: She’s in bed. Sat with her for a bit to make sure she didn’t roll onto her back. She’s a little worse for wear. I got a job up in Waco I need to be at in an hour, so I gotta head.

You scroll further back.

Joel: She okay?

Joel: Sarah says she hasn’t heard from her in a few days. We can come over for dinner tonight if you reckon that might help?

Further back still.

Joel: Sure, not doing anything anyway. Sarah in Nashville. Tell her to text me when she’s ready to be picked up. Hope she enjoys her rodeo night 🤠

Joel: Table booked for 6. Get you both at 5:45. Looking forward to it.

You scroll until your eyes hurt.

Joel: No answer. She’ll be home soon I bet.

Joel: You ever seen Grey’s Anatomy? Pretty good TV

Joel: Your daughter available tonight to help me put up stuff for Sarah coming home? I fear what might happen if I attempt it myself

You read the final message, the first thing he sent your dad after you got home. Six days in. He’d driven you home from work.

Joel: No problem, wouldn’t have her walking home in the rain. Was nice to see her again. She’s a sweetheart.

You’re laid back across the couch, your legs hanging over the armrest. You drop the phone to your chest and stare up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.

She’s a sweetheart.

Your throat tightens around a sob. Like a fist clenching around your neck, crushing your breath to nothing. Your eyes well, tears slowly flood across your vision and then spill over, running rapidly down to your ears and seeping into the fabric of the couch. You’re still silent. Still unable to open your mouth.

You’re doing everything you can to hold back. To stop it from happening. But your chest feels like it could burst, and your eyes are screwing shut tighter and tighter, and your body curls up like an animal succumbing to a mortal wound, and then –

Then, you break.

It forces its way from your throat, hammering against the sides of your mouth before it’s escaping, tearing away from your lips and hurtling skyward. A deep, violent exhale. Broken, and painful, and heavy.

There’s no one to hold back for. Just you, sat in your living room, clutching the flannel of a man who doesn’t want you anymore.

Your breath stammers, shudders against the palms of your hands as your fingertips massage your eyes. You’re crying like a little kid, and it’s not making you feel any better, but no matter what you do, it won’t stop.

And you don’t know why. You tell yourself that: I don’t know why I’m crying. Almost laugh when you think it through to yourself: sobbing at 6AM over someone you were sleeping with, for all of, what, four weeks? I don’t know why the fuck I’m crying.

Except – you do. You do. And you’re totally, completely, undeniably fucked.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You are – fucked.

----------

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bunnys-kisses · 7 months

Text

virtual - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, the womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business. tags: pwp, cam worker!reader, hair pulling, biting, dark(ish) themes, toji is your number one fan, 3.1k

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Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business.

He loved a cute cam girl on a sketchy website under the username ‘DeerlyDoe’. He had seen your face a few times, but he had always seen your body. And he liked what he saw. He loved a girl with a little meat on her bones who knew how to use those curves.

He wanted to do unsavory things to you, nothing illegal or heinous. He wanted to see what those glossed lips could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did want to make you scream his name.

“Shit,” He grunted to himself as he pleasured himself in front of his shitty computer. The internet in the hole he lived in was terrible, your perfect body was all pixels but he couldn’t deny the heat in his body from seeing you.

He relaxed in his chair and stroked his cock. he was a quiet tipper, he sent tips anonymously. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, even though the tips were large. The excitement in your voice when you saw the number was enough for him.

Currently you are riding a dildo that you stuck to the tile floor of your kitchen. He watched your body shake with each movement. It made his cock tense in his hand, thick like a pipe and solid like a brick. He groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke himself.

His face felt hot and a bit of drool ran down his chin in his pursuit for pleasure. The pleasure was building up in his gut the closer he came to climax. And he could tell you were getting close as well. He began to edge himself so he could have the pleasure of finishing alongside you. There were many things he’d do in order to see it in real life. To watch your body move before his very eyes.

He heard your moans get higher and before he knew it you were finishing all over the dildo. You soaked the toy in your wetness. The sounds that followed your aching pussy around the dildo brought Toji over the edge.

He created a mess to the front of his sweatpants, but he felt relaxed. He dropped his arms over both sides of the chair and exhaled deeply. “Yeah.” He said breathlessly.

Toji never imagined that he’d ever meet you in real life. He knew you were located in Japan, but he ever expected to see you in Shibuya. It was late spring and the rain came down in sheets, but Toji was crawling the streets looking for a way to kill time.

At a crosswalk, he noticed someone beside him. He looked over and saw a familiar sight. Now of someone that he knew, but his little fixation on the internet. His eyes went wide at the sight of you. He was in disbelief at the sight but then he noticed that you were trying to protect yourself from the rain.

Without thinking he tilted his umbrella to cover your head. What he noticed next was how beautiful your eyes looked when you gazed up at him. He never expected to run into someone to beautiful. So how the hell did Toji end up back at your place with you digging through your belongings to find something big enough to change in. He thought it was impossible for you. You were so small, and he was so big. How was he even going to fit in anything you owned?

The DeerlyDoe was in front of him, digging through his expensive wardrobe to find something for him to wear. How endearing. He watched your ass as you were bent over. He even was a little wiggle as you dug further into the wardrobe.

He wondered how expensive your clothes were, and how much would you have lost if he tore the items off of you? The thought made him smirk but he dropped it when you turned around with a simple compression shirt and shorts in hand.

“That's all I have, it’s from an ex-boyfriend. I’m glad I didn’t throw it out.” You giggled sheepishly.

The idea of you having a boyfriend made his chest freeze. But he composed himself with a cough and replied, “Well, I’m glad you had it. There was no need to do this much for me. Thank you.”

“You gave up your umbrella and got all wet! How could I not repay you?”

He smiled as gently as he could, “Fair point. But I am still thankful.” He started to strip his clothes off and you observed his partially naked body.

You swallowed and felt heat rise in your cheeks. There was a strange man in your home. You tried to create a little room for him to change, but he kept getting closer. Like he enjoyed your closeness. You felt your heart stammer.

What were you thinking letting this strange man into your home? But those dark eyes and that scar. He was a bad boy, and you had your little fixation of bad boys. You swallowed once more then smiled at him. “I hope it fits.” You said, “You can take it home with you.“

He chuckled softly, ”Actually, I was wondering if I could take you home. I think you'd look good on my bed.“

The blush felt like it reached your scalp as you covered your mouth with your hands. You let out a small 'eep' noise from the embarrassment. Which only in turn made him laugh.

Once he was changed, he went over to you and took your hands away from your mouth. He looked down at you as he held your wrists probably a little tighter than for someone as delicate as you.

“No one invites strange men into their homes unless they want their ducts clean or their pussy ate.” He grinned at you, enamored by your shyness. It was so much different than the woman in the live streams. But he still loved it.

“Mister Fushiguro, sir.” You squeaked. He had told you his name when you walked back to your home. He held your wrists to your head to keep you steady, and he leaned in for a solid kiss. Your eyes closed and you felt the hammering in your chest.

By instinct you held onto him as you leaned up to meet his kiss more. The shirt felt familiar, but the muscles underneath did not. You gasped into the kiss as he cradled the back of your head.

When he pulled away you asked, “Is it too late to ask you to clean my ducts?” You giggled nervously.

He ran a thumb across your bottom lip to see if the lip gloss stayed on. He replied, “Interesting.“

”What do you mean?“ You asked curiously.

”Don't worry. As much as I love the clothes you've given to me. I think it's best if I take them off. How does that sound?“

You looked into those dark eyes and nodded, anything for him. You saw him smile, it almost looked terrifying, like you were the prey and he was the predator. He kissed your lips once more before he started to take off the clothes you lent him.

Your heart raced at the idea of being intimate with this man. It had been so long since you had actual sex with someone. Usually you did things alone in your tiny apartment. But here was a man, a very handsome man, taking off his clothes in front of you.

The sight of his muscles as he took off the already tight shirt made you gasp. He was perfection, he wa danger, he made your head spin. It wasn't until his hands were back on you that you realized that maybe you should get undressed as well.

You felt heat in your body as you removed your sundress and left you bare in a simple bra and underwear. Your breathing was growing rapid as the heat in the main room grew warmer. You whispered, “I'm sorry if I don't look very good.“ You crossed your arms self consciously.

He pulled your arms away from you and held both wrists in one hand. He leaned in and tucked hair behind your ear, “I don't want to hear you say that ever again. If I didn't want a taste of that pussy, then I wouldn't be here now. I want you to be a good girl for me.” His breath was hot and left tingles down your spine.

He told you to leave him in the bedroom and you did as you were told. Afterall you were a good girl.

You couldn't believe what was going on, but a curious part of you went along with it. You were used to performing in front of a camera, but to have the real thing sent excitement through you. You blushed as you opened the bedroom door and Toji pressed his front against your back.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked seductively.

You nodded, “Please, sir.” Then moaned when he started to feel up your breasts. You held onto his strong forearms, you could barely get your hands around them. You could feel his erection against your back, which made you grow even more flustered.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You know, I watch you perform almost every night. You help me relax, I always wondered what that pussy tasted like.”

“You mean-”

“Yeah, DeerlyDoe. I know that your pussy can take a beating.” He smirked into your ear before he bit your neck. He played with your nipples over your bra, “I've had my fantasies about you, what I'd do to you. Do you think tonight we can try some of them out?”

“I've never had sex a fan before.“ You admitted.

He chuckled, ”Don't worry, I'll go easy. Maybe you'll like it so much that you'll never even think about having sex with a fan again.“ His voice was hot in your ear as he continued to touch you. His grip was rough as he played with your breasts.

You took off the underwear you wore and got onto the bed. You laid out for him to see every curve of your body. You watched him lick his lips as rain battered your window. Your nipples were hard from his teasing and between your legs was slick from the arousal.

He smirked once more, ”What a sight. A proper whore, ready to accept any cock she's given.“ He watched you grow flustered once more and he approached the bed. His hard cock bobbed with every step, ”I hope you know, I like it bare. I think you can tell, no condoms fit me.“

You swallowed and nodded. You watched him get into bed and you felt his length graze your thigh as he got closer. Your body felt electric and hot. Your heart was racing. You weren't too sure how it was all going to fit inside of you, but you had to try. Your core throbbed for the feeling of it inside of you.

”Dirty girl.” He remarked as he kissed your neck. His teeth dug into your skin, hard enough to leave an indent. You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. He groaned against you, you felt amazing. He could feel the sweat on his back as he pinned you down to the bed.

“Please, sir. Fushiguro, sir.“ You whimpered like a puppy which only aroused him further. His cock moved against your thigh once more and he caught a hint of how wet you were between your legs.

He groaned, the time for foreplay was over. He kept your arms pinned above your head with one large hand and your legs tightly locked around his waist. He gazed down at you with lust marking his face. With his free hand he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. He felt the stretch of your sex and he groaned.

You on the other hand were tense and it ached. You couldn't grip onto the bed for support. Your back arched but he kept you pinned down to the bed. Your heart raced as he sank himself inside of you. It was a tad painful, but it felt so good.

”Good girl.“ He groaned, he could've climaxed so easily but he edged himself not to. With one hand on your hip and the other holding you down, he began to thrust his hips. His cock pushed further inside of you and you moaned so loudly. Your noises made a shiver run up his spine to ecstasy.

”Please, sir.”

“I know you can take it, I've seen you take more than this.” He growled. He recalled every dildo and toy you ever used on yourself. You once told the stream you liked the pain. He watched you moaning as you gasped loudly.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the two on you fucked on the bed. The bed creaked from the movements and eventually Toji sloppily made out with you to shut you up. You felt the pleasure and the pain mix together in a way that left you speechless. You tightened your legs around the other man and tried to meet his pace.

Your heart raced and when he parted the kiss you said, “Fushiguro, ah, please.”

He smirked down at you, and your eyes gazed upon the scar on his lip. Part of you wanted to lick it, but he kept you pinned to the bed. You whimpered loudly some more and Toji let go of your hands but found his large, calloused hand in your hair. He yanked on the strands to pull you up towards him.

He held your hair in his hand as he bit your bottom lip and kissed you. You whined into the kiss from the subtle pain across your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped you back on the bed and leaned back a little to get a better angle of his thrusts.

You saw stars as his cock hit every sweet spot inside of you. It felt like his cock was in the back of your throat the way he was moving inside of you. The sheer size took the wind out of you with each powerful thrust. You were becoming addicted to his feelings for him. It was arousing.

“Good girl.” He said with a low growl to his voice.

You were sweaty all over as your body moved up and down on the bed. You gasped loudly as his cock bulled your cervix, it was so different when it was a real person rather than a toy. You managed to get a hold of the covers under you and anchored yourself as his thrusts got more aggressive.

He groaned against you as he continued to move his body. His thrusts became erratic in a pursuit for climax. You gasped, moaned and whimpered which only encouraged him. His body throbbed with a need for release. This felt like nothing he had ever felt before, and he had his fair share of pussy.

He could tell why you were so good at what you did. His breathing was rapid as he held onto your hips with both hands and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. Sweat dripped from his hair down his back muscles.

There was so much he wanted to do to you, right now was just the taster. He licked his lips with want as he watched your heavy breathing. You were a total slut, you loved anything that would stuff those holes of yours.

He wanted to bite, bruise and mark you. To make you his. He'd let you do your shows but maybe his name tattooed on your thigh would be a reminder to your viewers that you were a taken woman. The thought made his cock throb. Maybe he could convince you of that. But first he'd have to break your brain while fucking it out of your skull.

He hunched over and dug his hands into the bed under you. He growled as he felt the pleasure race through his body. This felt good, you felt good. His muscles moved with each thrust of his hips. He knew he was getting close.

As were you.

The sex was rough, extreme to an extent. But you were both lost in the vastness of pleasure that you two kept going. You reached out for him and made out with him once more. He groaned into the kiss and put one hand in your hair again.

He pulled on it and you groaned into the kiss. Your pussy clenched around him and he made a noise that came from deep inside of him. That felt good.

The best continued to creak as the two of you fucked like two horny animals. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and you knew that you were both going to orgasm soon. You pulled away from the kiss and panted wildly.

“You're so good.' He grumbled, “Such a good hole to fuck. I might have to keep you to myself. See what else those hips can do. I'll need a good fuck after the work I do.” He grabbed your breasts so tightly that you knew they were going to put purple bruises come morning.

You whined and arched your pain from the pain, but yet it still made you core throb for him. With another heavy thrust you came all over his cock, you coated it in your wetness. You let out a high-pitched moan that was more erotic than anything that he ever saw online.

You went laxed on the bed but still held onto the sheets as you let Toji use your body to achieve his own orgasm. The bed continued to move, with it hitting the wall. Your breathing was heavy and your mind felt hazy.

With a few more thrusts into your tight cunt. he finished inside of you. He groaned as he did so before he leaned forward once more and gave you a searing kiss. You two made out with his softening cock still inside of you as the both of you came down from your orgasms.

“Sir.”

“Good girl, I hope you're ready for more because I'm not done with you. Now be a good girl and get on all fours for me. I want to see what ass.” He groaned against you before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

You knew that you'd be seeing a lot of Toji Fushiguro after this, he may have been a fan but now he's making you feel really good and not from high donations.

#bunny writes #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji x you

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hwnglx · 10 days

Text

this was a complex and long one. the more i read on wonyoung, the more in awe i get of her. like wow we all need to learn a thing or two from this girl. she's a queen.

wonyoung's real personality behind the scenes

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled song: 28 reasons by seulgi

+ so unsurprisingly, this girl is a professional through and through. very common pattern for people who entered the industry at an early age. hard work in the entertainment business comes to them astoundingly easy. (something i saw for ni-ki previously)

she's just as polished and sophisticated off cam, as she is on cam. very focused on maintaining a clean image even behind the scenes, she's aware that's what can make or break a public figure. quite a few idols put on an angel act when cameras are on them, but allow themselves to be reckless beyond closed doors. wonyoung knows people talk, there's this sense of a continuously cautious “trust nobody” in her. this is something that sets her apart from many others. wonyoung is very aware that things will get out eventually, so she's incredibly eager to withhold a flawless reputation even behind the scenes. she's also extremely protective of what is hers, whether that's her material possessions (money, expensive or cherished items), the image she's worked hard on maintaining, her loved ones and cherished relationships. wonyoung puts a lot of value into keeping them in check, making sure they're taken care of.

i looked up her mars sign and immediately went “aaah” as soon as i saw it's in virgo, because she seems to be outstanding at planning. wonyoung is very calculated, everything she does she's fully aware of. she always acts while exactly knowing the effects it has on, not only herself, but the people around her. this is also a quality she doesn't only use for her own good, but many people around her seem to appreciate. since she's incredibly intuitive, she can combine those two qualities, which makes for a person who's great at identifying and reading situations, and wisely acting according to this profuse intuition. for example, if someone she's close to is telling her about their struggles, she not only is great at making them feel cared about and listened to, offering them emotional understanding and support, but also excellent at grasping the problem and conflict, and providing the person with helpful solutions on how to act. random thought, but i could see her being a pretty good psychologist, or lawyer. (did she ever talk about wanting to work in medicine or law if she wasn't an idol?)

wonyoung is very smart. not only emotionally intelligent, but also very eloquent. great at speaking and finding the right words at the right time. there's also a lot of drive in this girl, like so much. she has a very determined attitude, which can be contagious to the people around her. amazing at pulling people out of situations that seem hopeless, and giving them courage to move forward. a very good team player, she's capable of adjusting to her co-workers and compromising, finding a middle-ground for the sake of the team. i can see many people truly enjoying to work with her, because she doesn't only have such a profound understanding of what she's doing, but is also considerate of the people around her.

lastly, this girl literally pulls the strings, has most people at the palm of her hands with ease. especially in a romantic manner, if any men mess with wonyoung.. make no mistake, she will not be played by them but instead play them swiftly, probably without them even noticing until later. the type to smile at you and hug you while stabbing an injection with your own poison in your back, knowing you did this to yourself. type to beat you at your own game while smiling politely.

she will not allow anyone to trick her, make a fool out of her. she reads and understands behaviorial patterns very well, so it just isn't easy to mislead her. however! best believe she only does this to people who do her wrong first. people who deserve it. it's giving “i'm sweet and respectful to everyone but, you better know not to mess with me, because that's when you'll get to see a different side to me” as i mentioned, i can see her being pretty cut-throat when it comes to men. especially in the industry. many weird ass men in there, wonyoung does not allow them to put themselves above her, just because of their bizarre gender superiority complex. (i remember this spiting some male idols in my reputation reading lmao well..) there's this thing of her always remaining crazy polite though, and doing just enough for payback. in this smart manner in which she can't be blamed or faulted for it.

- i hate to say this, but wonyoung can have her entitled princess tendencies. it's kinda giving spoiled rich girl who not only expects the best treatment, but is also so selective over who she calls her friends, depending on their status. not sure if she grew up in a rich household, but this seems like something that comes very naturally to her. she's very very meticulous, very very picky and perfectionistic. even if she doesn't always express it in a mean or aggressive way, it can just rub people the wrong way since it can give off pick me energy. i can see her being all “hmmm no” about some potentially beneficial things in her career like jobs or opportunities, just because she can feel superior to them. like she's above them. very much boss energy and it again, is incredibly smart in several ways, but sometimes it can be off putting, she isn't always right in her judgement without fail.

she's so invested in closely managing people's image of her, that she can quickly drive herself crazy over trivial details. there seems to be a lot of fear when it comes to letting go of this obsession and control over her reputation, as well as making herself vulnerable. wonyoung seems to have a lot of trust issues. this comes up everytime i read for her.. there's this constant feeling like everyone is out to get her somehow. i think she's seen a lot of shit happen in the industry, people in the business can be cruel and cold. just like the public, they can often look at and treat idols as these emotionless dolls. due to this, wonyoung can easily get mistrustful of people with pure and good intentions. she protects her heart in a very fierce manner. (this could for sure go up to the green flags but her immense trust issues seem to potentially stand in the way of her forming genuine and healthy connections too)

she's so scared of appearing easy to attack, easy to hurt or easy to access and weak. she hates crying in front of people, and always puts on a perfect mask she hides all her inner struggles behind. she's scared of baring her true soul to people because she doesn't like the thought of them seeing her as a flawed person. wonyoung sets herself up to skyhigh standards, because she believes she's lacking and unworthy of praise if she doesn't meet those expectations. she feels like she needs to be perfect for people to like her, which is sad and ironic, because.. they literally go on hating on her for appearing so perfect. people need to calm the hell down, shut the hell up and realize their words are making her put on even more of an act, hide herself even further, since she's actually so easily hurt. her heart is much softer than people realize, and much softer than she herself would like it to be.

#kpop tarot #ive tarot

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exhausted-exho · 3 months

Text

Sick

I sniffle, curling into a tighter ball under the covers. My laptop in front of me is the only source of light in the room, as well as my entertainment while I'm coughing my lungs out.

"Yeah, X is still sick. That's why she's not streaming. She's in here as a mod, though, I think. Are you, X?" I reach out, typing with one hand. 'im here'

"They're still sick?" Puffer's voice joins the mix. "It's been a week now."

"Yeah," Max says, "she's feeling pretty shitty."

'tell puff boy not to worry about me' I type 'im fine'

"You're not fine," he argues. "Puffer, she says not to worry too much."

"X, take better care of yourself." The worried tone in his voice shines through the monotonous drawl. With another cough, I roll out of bed and wander down the hall to Max's office and walk in. He turns around as I do so, frowning.

"You should be resting right now, what are you doing?"

Rather than answer, I pull his headset off and put it on my own ears and get close to his mic, half leaning on his desk.

"Shut up, Puffer, I'm fine."

"Woah, you sound like a smoker. Are you okay?" Chat fills with similar sentiment, making me scowl. "Is it just a cold?"

"I think mild laryngitis. I had no voice at all yesterday," I rasp. "I'm fine, though, don't worry."

"X-"

"'Kay, that's all. Later, I'm sitting down." I hand Max his headset and do exactly that, plopping down on the floor next to him, leaning my head against his leg. From my vantage, I can see parts of his monitors and notice that his cam can see the top part of my head.

"No she's sitting on the floor next to me. X, Puffer says go back to bed. So do I." I hum in disagreement and stay where I am, closing my eyes. "Alright, hang on, I'm muting for a second."

There's a few clicks and the sound of him placing his headset on the desk and then his hand is on my head, lightly musing my hair.

"X, come on, you gotta get back to bed. You can stay in as a mod but you need to be resting."

"I am resting," I argue.

"You know what I mean." I tilt my head to look at him, frowning. His brow is creased as he looks down at me, worry pulling at his face.

"I feel lonely," I admit. "You know how I am when I don't feel good."

"I know." His voice is gentle, as is his hand as it slides down to cup my cheek. "I won't be streaming for too much longer, okay? For now go back to bed."

I go to say something but end up in a coughing fit that has me doubled over, hacking into my crossed legs. His hand presses gently into the top of my spine to comfort me until I can breathe normally again.

"X, please, go back to bed. I'll only be live for another half hour or so, okay?"

"Okay." He helps me to my feet and walks me down the hall to the bedroom, laying me down on the bed and covering me with the blankets again. "I'll be back soon."

He kisses my forehead before walking back to his office. As he's settling back in, I read chat. A lot of them are calling us cute while others are wishing me well. There's a couple who want to be trolls and are making fun of me for being sick but I give them warning mutes. Max sees one that I miss, though, and gets mad fast.

"Hey, if you wanna make fun of me do it. I know X doesn't really care if you make fun of her either, but don't be a shit about us being together. You're fucking banned and I'm doing it myself." I haven't heard him this pissed at someone in chat since a few months ago when a couple people wanted to make creepy comments on my body when I was wearing a cropped sweater and sweats. "I know some of you think you know what's best for us but you don't so shut the fuck up and leave us alone."

His protectiveness over me always makes me smile, even if I don't like what triggers it.

Suddenly, chat is a lot faster. Most of what I can read is people telling Max to pop off and telling others to leave us alone or defending our happiness. I ban a few trolls myself, not even bothering to give warnings.

"Puffer, I'm getting off in 30," he says.

"Aw, do you need to take care of the baby?" Immediately, I open a different Twitch tab, albeit muted, and get into Puffer's chat. Where I'm also a mod. 'shut the fuck up puff boy'

"She's not a-"

"Hey! Get outta my chat you fuckin' rat!" I giggle a little before typing again.

'make me. im a mod bitch'

"X, you better not be bullying Puffer in his chat."

"She is. I'm gonna ban her."

"Don't ban her."

"She's being annoying. Maybe I should."

"You'll be down a mod." There's a moment of silent deliberation before Max jumps back in. "And she's on cold meds right now. You know how she gets when she's on cold meds."

Puffer lets out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. You're safe for now, X. But get out of my chat and go sleep."

I close his stream and go back to Max's, watching people celebrate my non-ban in Puffer's chat. Soon, I see spam of a clip link. I click it, filled with curiosity.

It's the moment of Max playing with my hair and cupping my face as I sat on the floor beside him. You can just see it with my positioning and the tilt of my head. Heat rushes my face as I click back on the stream.

Chat flies by in a flurry, a lot of hearts and coos and calling us cute. Some of them even label it as "relationship goals." Max is too absorbed in the game and his conversation with Puffer to notice. I'm silently thankful for that, especially as the clip fades away and the conversation switches to the game again.

For the next twenty minutes all is calm. Max gets off the call with Puffer to do his ending, talking to chat for a little. I'm half asleep as I monitor chat until I see the link again.

"Oh, new clips?" Before I can say anything, Max clicks it and shows his whole stream. Chat explodes into their fawning again while Max just stares at it, letting it play a couple times.

One would take the reaction as shock, but I see the small smile on his face. I don't blame him. It's a rare clip of me I actually truly enjoy.

#pezzy #pezzy x reader #frouse #drabbles #sickfic #cuteness #i use x instead of y/n #fem!reader #he would give forehead kisses #twitch #streaming #streamtube #first person pov

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skz-sarang · 2 months

Text

. . . ♡ you can’t help but become the sun ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪Lovey’s relationship with stray kids! ❫ ୧ ⊹

.⋆｡˚⋆☆ Hyung line edition ☆⋆˚｡⋆.

࣪warnings! mention of ED , anxiety

word count! 300+ each

a/n! popularity percentages all above 85%

BANG CHAN + KIM SARANG

CHARANG

popularity : 95 %

⸻ Chan was the very first member to know and meet Lovey; after all, she is at JYP thanks to him. The first thing that struck Bangchan about Sarang was her talent – a voice unlike any he had heard before, sweet, gentle, enchanting, and mesmerizing like the songs of sirens. The second thing that struck him was her eyes – so big and deep, filled with pain, fear, and uncertainties. Too many negative emotions for a young girl like Sarang. Chan took Lovey 'under his wing,' giving her the strength to dream, providing a launching pad through Stray Kids. Chan and Sarang share an unparalleled bond; he saw her at her lowest and brought her back to shine. She sees him as her savior, that glimmer of light in a dark room. He's always there, ready to protect her, shielding her from the world. Chan would give up a kidney for her. The bond between Chan and Lovey is like an invisible thread keeping them connected. Every smile from her is confirmation of the positive change Chan brought into her life. In their relationship, Chan is more than a friend; he's a confidant, a mentor, and a guardian angel. She trusts him completely and knows that he will always have her back, no matter what. Lovey's strength has become his inspiration, and every success of hers is a shared victory. They tend to be very clingy since they are both affectionate. They often spend time together, especially in the studio, as Sarang doesn't want to leave Chan alone to work, and he doesn't want her to go home alone late at night. Sarang always ends up falling asleep watching him work.

fans favorite moment : During an interview, Sarang was asked about her emergency contacts. She took out her phone, a big smile on her face, and showed the two contacts: Jihoon, her brother, and Bangchan. Her explanation was, "I chose these two simply because Jihoon is my family, while Channie - oppa is the person I trust the most." After hearing this, Chan, who was unaware, widened his eyes and immediately stood up from his stool, going near Sarang and engulfing her in a huge hug: "I luv you, bubbles, you're what I hold most dear"

Charang things :

Holding hands while crossing the street and/or in crowded places like airports.

Chan’s goodnight forehead kiss

late night drive

watching marvel movies together

making playlists for each other

LEE MINHO + KIM SARANG

MINRANG

popularity : 96 %

⸻ when lovey and leeknow first met, they didn't immediately hit it off. not because they didn't like one another, but because they're both super introverts that have a hard time talking to new people. especially because lovey was the only girl so he was like wtf??? and minho as an attitude , so sarang was a bit scared of him. but jisung forced them to talk to each other and they were like “oh maybe they're not so scary. ” after that they started becoming really good friends, and really enjoyed one another's company. they could always tell each other just about anything, and not have to worry about judgment. Now, their relationship consists of Minho making fun of sarang embarrassing or flattering her, flirting with her, even in front of the cameras. If you need someone to make her a blushing mess, simply call Lee Know. He loves to tease her, is his favorite thing since he discovered that she gets flustered easily. He loves watching her pink shades cheeks. She lets him do that only because they're pretty close. Minho is quite of a character, usually isn't lovely dovely, especially in front of cams or stays, but has a soft spot for her; out of all them members he's probably the member who looks after her the most. Since he learned about her problem with food, he has always taken care of her, making sure she didn’t skip meals and teaching her how to cook.

fans favorite moment : During “mysterious kitchen” lovey was peeling carrots, but he had some difficulty, and had a pair of cutting himself. Lee know approached her and put his head on the shoulder of the shorter girl. “Don’t you know how to shave carrots?” He asked giggling. Lovey replied with a laugh, shaking her head. Then he stood behind her, hugging her and took knife and carrot from her hands, showing her how to do it. The scene is depopulated sh twitter and tiktok with fans crazy for their closeness and connection.

Minrang’s things :

always there to help sarang calm down when she’s in the middle of an anxiety attack

back-hug while cooking

matching phone cases

tickling her only to hear her laugh

Cat-cuddling dates, whether with soongie doogie dori or snoflake and gingerbread

SEO CHANGBIN + KIM SARANG

SANGBIN

popularity : 87 %

⸻ Changbin has a daddy-like behavior towards her, he always has a hand on her at airports, or puts his jacket on her lap for cover her when she wears skirts or dresses; he just in general keeps an eye out for her. He is like a protective shield, watching out for her and making sure she is safe and happy. He’s also the most likely to voice a concern if he thinks her concept is too sexy, because he honestly treats her like his baby. It’s also not uncommon to find these two up in the late hours having in depth conversations. Whether it’s something they’re laughing about or if it’s a deep and serious conversation. They’re kinda big on communication, especially since Sarang has such a hard time opening up to others. Changbin always encourages her to say what’s on her mind, but he’s never forceful about it. He just likes to let her know that she can say what’s on her mind, and he’ll always be there to listen. Their connection goes beyond the public eye, as Changbin values the depth of their friendship and ensures that Sarang feels secure within the group dynamics. The genuine and caring nature of their relationship adds a heartwarming dimension to their interactions within the group. Despite Changbin's dedication to working out, Sarang, not particularly interested in fitness, joins him during his exercise routines. It's not about the activity itself for her; rather, it's a gesture of companionship. Changbin appreciates her willingness to be by his side, turning their workout sessions into lighthearted moments filled with laughter and encouragement.

fans favorite moment : During The filming of a skz-talk in the promotions of “ Maniac ” ,Changbin noticed Sarang wincing as they walked backstage after the energetic Music Bank stage. He glanced down at her feet and couldn't help but empathize with the discomfort she must be feeling in those high heels. "Hey sweetie , I can see those heels are killing you. Why don't you take a break and let me carry you or something?" Sarang chuckled, appreciating Changbin's concern but refusing to be a burden. "No, it's fine. I'll survive." Changbin, however, was having none of it. He bent down, swiftly removing his sneakers. "Come on, I'd rather see you walking comfortably. Here, take these. I don't mind going barefoot." Sarang stared at him in surprise, then gratefully accepted the shoes, feeling an unexpected warmth in her heart. “Thanks, Oppa. You're a lifesaver." Changbin just shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. "Anything for your comfort, Bubbles. Let's get you feeling better."

Sangbin’s things :

Changbin giving lovey is jacket whenever is cold

trying to get her to workout without results

shooting finger hearts at him from a distance.

messing with her hair

her personal bodyguard

HWANG HYUNJIN + KIM SARANG

SANJIN

popularity : 91 %

⸻ lovey and Hyunjin share a high-energy bond. They bring out each other's playful sides and have a natural chemistry on and off stage. They are partners in crime. Hyunjin likes to joke around with the members but not with her; he prefers having her as his accomplice. He loves her style, and she really looks up to him as an artist. He knows she has low self-esteem, so he's always cheering for her, Hyunjin is her n1 Fan. And god save anyone who criticizes her, because he will be ready to fight. They’re also big goofballs, and can often be seen doing dramatic skits during their variety shows and just being ridiculous. Sarang and Hyunjin share a dynamic where their friendship blossoms into a creative synergy. Hyunjin, known for his playful interactions, discovers in Sarang not just a companion but a muse for collaborative ideas. Their joint goofiness spills over into impromptu moments of laughter, creating a unique and endearing atmosphere within the group. Hyunjin's protective instincts kick in as he becomes a vocal advocate for lovey, showcasing a fierce loyalty that solidifies their bond as not just friends, but partners in both mischief and creativity. Lovey and Hyunjin often find solace in creative endeavors, particularly in painting together. In these artistic moments, Hyunjin takes on the role of a patient teacher, sharing his knowledge and techniques with Sarang. Their painting sessions become a canvas for shared laughter, learning, and the beautiful fusion of their individual styles. Through this artistic collaboration, lovey not only hones her skills but also deepens their connection, creating a masterpiece of friendship and shared passion.

fans favorite moment : During an exclusive music show performance by JYP, there's a humorous moment when Sarang whispers something in Hyunjin's ear. Both burst into uncontrollable laughter, but as soon as they realize they're on camera, they quickly hide, trying to mask their amusement. Fans suspect they might have been teasing the PDnim.

Sanjin’s things :

gossiping at award shows together

hyunjjn using lovey for an “arm rest”

painting together

dancing v-lives

pinky promises

!TAGLIST! : @smh-anon (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

Cool Heart, Hot Headed(Lionesses x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️blood, trash talking⚠️

a/n: also, writing this as chelsea are in the FA cup final… LETS FUCKING GO!!! BLUES UNITE. based off this request here (this seriously flopped)

prompt: during the euros, the swedes are playing incredibly dirty and as the reader tries to brush it off, her teammates are very angry and protective of her

Patience. It was definitely your best quality. Yes, you felt anger and disappointment, as well as rage and pain. But you were always patient.

It did come to a shock to your english teammates when Sweden suddenly had it out for you. But it didn’t surprise them that you were as calm as ever.

The Euros semi final had everyone on edge. This was the moment. This was the chance to bring it home. The lionesses needed this. They needed a major trophy for England. The men sure as well weren’t bringing it anywhere near the airport, let alone home.

So it was your chance to make your country, your people proud.

You walked onto that field behind Mary and Leah, sang your national anthem loudly and proudly.

"You look pale," Leah whispered in your ear. "All good cap. Just kinda scared of Björn. She’s giving me looks that make it seem like she wants to kill me," you said, locking eyes with the Swede, smiling lightly and receiving a scowl in return. "Don’t worry about them. They’re all look no game. Don’t tell Magda I said that," Millie said, having overheard.

You nodded and then took the team picture. The girls huddled up, did a cheer and then you took your position as the CAM.

Right off the bat, the game was nail biting. Any english fans watching at home, or in the stadium, surely felt as though something was going to happen. The swedes were coming in strong. But they weren’t attacking anyone as violently, as hard, and with as much resilience and they did to you.

The first hit you took was in the eighth minute. Fridolina Rolfö came out of nowhere. You were scanning your options from the midfield, no one around you. You were taking small touches to move forward, and then out of nowhere you heard "Man on!" and then felt a strong force hit you from behind. You went flying forwards, falling oto the floor with a loud thump. You groaned loudly, rolling onto your back as you heard the referee blow her whistle.

In your mind, that was a yellow, but Rolfö got let off with a warning. Lucy helped you up, brushing grass off your back as you tried to get dirt of your white kit.

Only two minutes later, you were the victim of another attack. This time by Jakobsson. As you turned with the ball and carried it down the middle, you felt your jersey getting tugged from behind, you tried to keep running but the pull made you stumble and fall awkwardly on your shoulder. Sofias momentum was still going, and she tripped over you, leaving a deep clear mark on your thigh.

You could hear scrambled voices of your teammates yelling at the referee who somehow decided the ball was to be given to Sweden. Fran helped you up gently, and you could see Millie trying to calm down Sarina as she was all worked up.

"What did you do to them? they’re going at you hard!" Fran joked. "I don’t know. But it’s okay. It’s fine," you answered calmly, walking towards Elle and Leah who were having a pretty angry talk with the ref.

"Girls! It’s okay. It’s fine. Let’s keep going," you said.

Swedens free kick resulted in nothing, and then you kept moving.

In the thirtieth minute, you were awarded a corner. You took your spot in the box, at the back post, and prepared yourself. The second the ball came in, you tried to jump up, but you felt a hand pushing you. Quicker than you knew it, you had fallen into the net pretty aggressively, your body crashing against the netting.

Zecira Musovic had caught the ball, and looked at you strangely as you struggled to get your cleats undone from the net. "She fucking pushed her! Yes you fucking did. Yes you did," Keira yelled, addressing the ref and then Hannah Glas.

"Keira!" you whispered harshly in her ear, making her turn to look at you and put her arms on your forearms. Most of your team was surrounding you now. "I am okay. Can we play this game please. Let’s go girls," you said sternly. "Y/n… this is getting unsafe," Leah said, concern in her voice. "I don’t care."

For once, you got away with the last word, walking off from the girls as they shared looks of worry.

At the end of the first half, your kit was a mess. There were more brown and green patches than white ones. Your face was dirty and your England kit was absolutely grimey. As you lifted the corner of your shirt, one of the only clean parts, to wipe off dirt from your cheek, you realized how scratched and bruise your stomach was.

You were quick to drop your shirt, hoping no teammates or cameras had picked up on your state.

The second you exited the pitch, Sarina had her arm around you. "You’re a fighter. You know that? I don’t know how you’re not loosing your shit out there," your coach said to you, squeezing your shoulder. "Loosing my shit won’t help anyone. It won’t help us win," you said simply. "That mentality, that’s gonna get us that cup. You hear me?" She said, keeping a hold of you as you both walked into the changing room. The second you walked in, the girls were all talking over each other with worry.

"I’ll kill them!"

"Are you okay?"

"How are you not screaming right now?"

"I don’t know how you’re so patient."

"Are you bruised? Cut? Bloody?"

"I am fine! But I won’t be fine if we don’t win this. So let’s win it," you said, sitting down next to Mary who gave you a quick kiss on the forehead.

Sarina went over what we were doing well, and what we weren’t, as you changed your kit into a clean one. You threw the dirty one away and then put your cleats back on as you had chosen to change socks too.

The girls and Sarina left the changing room, leaving you and Leah behind. She had given you a look that said "stay back."

"Listen to me, y/n/n. If you feel unsafe on that field for a second. You tell me, and Sarina will sub you off. Your safety is more important than a trophy. And this team is full of brilliant players, you’re irreplaceable… but what i’m saying is your spot can be… filled in if needed," your captain said. "Leah… we both know how bad you want that trophy," you said to her as you walked out of the room. "Yeah. I do. But I don’t want it enough to sacrifice you for it," Leah said.

"I won’t die, Lee. Let’s play," you said.

You jogged onto the field with her, the stadium erupting at the sight of their skipper and co-skipper.

Sweden seemed to have slowed down a little, on their attack on you, that is. The game was still very much packed with action. They left you along for a solid 30 minutes, which you were immensely grateful for.

But with the 75 minute, came what felt like the 75th foul on you.

Everyone lost their shit.

All, but you.

Everything about Asllani’s tackle was dirty. They way she didn’t even touch the ball. The way foot was way off the ground and her studs were pointed upwards. The way that went she connected with you, and you fell sideways with a scream, she made no attempt to stop her slide, choosing instead to let her studs graze all the way up the side of your leg.

Magda Ericsson had been the only sane Swede on the pitch, rushing toward her midfielder and grabbing her under the arms to pull her off you. She told her off in swedish before trying to check on you. But your team was having nothing of it. Millie gently told the swedish captain, and her club teammate, to back off so she didn’t get yelled at by the lionesses

Your eyes were teary due to the pain of it all. Your leg lay bloody on the turf, the crimson mess of it all starting to trickle down the sides of your thighs. You couldn’t really register the whole thing, but you could see the referee pointing at Asllani and giving her a yellow. But you also saw Leah get one, and Lucy, and then Keira. What were they saying to get them into that mess? "Tell them to stop before we have to play with a man down," you let out to Georgia who was kneeling beside you.

The medics were quick to soak up the blood, revealing a series of cuts made by the studs, but nothing too too serious. "I can keep playing, right?" you asked the medics. "No!" Leah said at the same time as all the other girls let out scattered cries of "no way" and "nuh uh".

"Guys. It’s a cut. It’s fine. I’m sure it was an acc-" you started saying. "No! No it was not an accident. You are too patient at this point, y/n. You need to protect yourself. But if you won’t, I will. You’re going off," Leah said with a sternness you hadn’t seen before.

You held eye contact with her for a while, the air tense. "No. Thirty pounds. Thirty pounds says i’ll score. Don’t take me off, don’t let Sarina sit me on the bench when I can make a difference for this team," you said, standing up, so determined to prove you could stay on the acknowledge the pain you should have been in.

"Fine. Thirty pounds," Leah said.

And then you were playing again, your leg bandaged up, your body in pain, and your mind set. You were everywhere on the pitch. Defending, attacking, demanding a goal. Everyone was shocked, shocked to see you so agressive after being pushed around so much. It just went to show that all your pain and annoyance was fueled into football.

Twenty minutes later, in 90+5, Leah because thirty pounds poorer.

A corner taken by Leah had gotten cleared away by a header, and came straight to you in your position from the outside of the box.

You didn’t think twice. You waited till the ball was perfectly low, and then hit it on the volley. The power on the shot made the ball spin, and it went straight into the goal, hitting the roof of the net.

You screamed loudly, running towards the corner flag, your team chasing after you, and jumping into Ellen’s arms. "LETS FUCKING GO. LETS FUCKING GO!" you screamed at full force.

Ellen let you down and your teammates took turn grabbing your face and kissing your forehead in excitement. The subs were all celebrating around you, and as you ran back to your position, you pumped your first in the air, making the fans screams double somehow.

When the final whistle blew, you cried. Partly of joy, but mostly of pure agony.

Your teammates helped you off the floor, basically carrying you around the field in their arms, making you laugh. But the second you were inside, you let out a shaky cry. Of relief, yes, but of pain. "It’ll be okay. You were amazing, and you’ll be all fixed for Wembley," Leah said, handing you thirty pounds and winking.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #leah williamson #chelsea fcw #arsenal fcw #lionesses #euro 2022 #engwnt #swewnt

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starstriix · 5 months

Text

Jo's dynamics with other characters are all usually fun and engaging due to her being such an entertaining and adaptable character herself; but they can honestly be so much more interesting if people explored them a bit more?

For example, take Jo and Lightning. They have a hilarious dynamic with Jo having to deal with Lightning's stupidity and learning to manipulate his self-centeredness to her advantage. Except one thing I don't see explored enough is their similarities??

They're both overconfident athletes who are willing to do bad shit in order to win. It makes me think that Jo might’ve had a similar upbringing to him where she had to deal with the pressure of winning? Like, a cut-throat attitude doesn't just develop out of nowhere. Except whilst I think Lightning's ego developed from being constantly praised (and eventually pressured with having to live up to others' expectations), Jo might’ve been constantly belittled and underestimated (for yknow, being a girl) and she would've had to work hard to achieve recognition from others. Episode 6 pretty much confirms that she uses a false bravado and anger to cover up feelings of insecurity. I just think their possibly similar yet different upbringings and perspectives would be cool to explore.

Jo and Zoey is one of my favourite duos! They definitely should've become friends; I think they would've been a fun dynamic, and gen 2 could've used a proper female friendship. I think them both having the "Not like other girls" aspect is quite interesting?? As well as them both initially lacking actual friendships (with Zoey's lonely childhood, and Jo's... Just Jo) which is. Pretty common amongst the gen 2 girls. Huh

Zoey could've been a MUCH more interesting character (I always just use the cool epic version of her I have inside my head). Let her be weirdddd or let her be super basic and intentionally pose as "indie" to seem cool and different. Maybe she looks down on other "basic" girls to cover up how she feels insecure around them for being weird and having unconventional interests herself idk. I think the dynamic of both Zoey and Jo hating on pretty, popular girls and overcoming that is super neat. Especially since they're both something that the other hates; Zoey is a typically feminine girl and Jo is a jockette. Let them become friends and be like "okay well you aren't so bad" and then eventually stop judging other girls for being "feminine" or "basic" pleaseeeee it'd be so good. Even better: let ALL the revenge girls be friends. I just want them to be happy OKAY? Okay.

Finally, Jo and Cameron! Another duo I'm fond of. Awesome brains/brawns combination, and the whole arc of Cam standing up to her and Jo respecting him for it is absolutely peak. Jo's elimination in roti was pretty much perfect, but I also think she could've worked well in the finale. Her being a combination of brains and brawns would have encouraged Cameron to use both, which would be a neat callback to Jo's earlier line of needing to get physical in TD. (Still think she should've rooted for Cameron over the guy who insisted that she was a dude for most of the season but whatever)

I haven't really seen this take on their dynamic, but the whole thing of Cameron's development being stunted from the over-protective environment of his upbringing and Jo being toughened by the harsh environment of hers adds a fascinating layer to their relationship. Whereas Cameron was prevented from being able to properly grow up and experience things like normal teens, Jo grew up way too soon and put more focus into winning than making positive relationships and allowing herself to just be a teenage girl (I personally believe Jo got the """tough love""" treatment). Idk I just think this would be cool to delve into and see how their opposite childhoods impacted them and their core values when interacting with each other

Cameron clearly saw her as both a role model and an opponent, which is a really fun dynamic! She was a bully, yeah, but she also presented herself as someone who was always in control and knew what she was doing, so it's understandable that Cam looked up to her. She was pretty much the opposite of overprotective too, which is probably what drew Cam to her since she didn't coddle him (and instead made fun of him LMAO). And of course, Jo learned to not underestimate the tiny nerds and gave her respect in the end. Super fun and intriguing duo, and probably the only td pair I would actually compare to siblings.

So yeah basically I think we should start looking into TD relationship dynamics more because they're awesome and filled with potential. Especially Jo's because she is the best ever and if you think otherwise then you're wrong

Also have a gold star if you just read through all of that ⭐️ great work soldier

#total drama #tdroti #td jo #td lightning #td zoey #td cameron #tdi

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currentlylovingyou · 2 years

Text

genshin streamer x reader

general genshin streamer! au headcanons

before you read!♡ ~ many writers have already covered this idea, so in no way am i claiming that i came up with this topic! the writer areislol have really inspired me with her streamer au. in no way am i trying to copy her work, but i must admit that reading her fics a while ago has inspired me, and sparked more ideas with this au.

thoma

♡ at first, he never really had any dreams of becoming a streamer himself. although his two close family friends, ayato and ayaka, had tried to persuade him into trying it, he honestly thought that he wouldn't be very entertaining.

♡ it kinda changed for him when he was vcing with ayaka during her own stream- ayaka being a vtuber and gaining a quick following after ayatos quick sucess after debuting his model months prior.

♡ when chatters aked about the mysterious, yet warm and friendly friend, who joined and chatted regularly, she was more than happy to introduce him. ayaka, being protective about her private life, of course aked thoma beforehand.

♡ he had gained fans from hyjacking his friend's stream- and that's when it really hit him that.. i could also do this. in honest, he loved being with ayaka while she streams. never getting enough of chatters- whether trolling or doting.

♡ asking ayato where to even begin.. a second twitch channel on ayaka's reccomended popped up.

♡ although he chose not to be a vtuber, fans still adored him. his quick humored yet warm and caring personality drew thousands of fans just within a few months of starting. a small community growing and growing until it's more than a few thousand- and slowly climbing upwards.

♡ thoma hadn't really branched out from the community of ayaka and ayato. he still felt new to the career, and nervous that he wouldn't be able to branch out to others. that all changed however, when a new friendly face raided one of his streams, hundreds of views sending variations of: "y/n raid!!" or, "y/n sent us!!"

♡ he had seen your name before- he recognized you as another smallish channel that started around the same time that he did. reacting quick, a warm smile spread onto his face, waving a sheepish hand to welcome you and your overly excited followers.

♡ "thank you so much for the raid, y/n! yes-yes, we're playing minecraft today! how was your stream?"

♡ he found that you're channel was entertaining- deciding to stlak (all) your socials once his own stream ended. something about your personality and voice seemed to pull him into a trance, deciding to follow you immediately. and smiling when he noticed a few moments later, you followed him back.

♡ it was rare for another streamer to attract him as much as you did, and you felt the same. the funny horned-headset he wore on top of the messiest blond hair made you feel helpless. the witty remarks to his two close friends making you fall harder.

♡ you two hit it off pretty closely, both of you making similar content, it was almost too easy to become close friends with you. he found streaming with you more fun than the ones he did alone, without ayaka or ayato.

♡ speaking of his friends, ayato and ayaka both seemed to love your content. if you were a face cam streamer like thoma, they would laugh about how out of the four of us, only two have faces. if you preffered to stay faceless, or become a vtuber, they would welcome you with open arms to their community, adding small hints of your character to their streams aswell.

♡ days turning into months spent with you, it was obvious that you both had fallen. thoma knew that he liked you- no, loved you. confiding in ayaka, she smiled and pressed him for information. only when he told her did he realize how much he wanted to tell you. ♡ one day while on a valorant stream, it was all too much. ayaka had been pestering him about it earlier, and e took a second to really think about it.. ♡ the only outcome was ruining your entire relationship... haha... wow.. ♡ clearing his throat, a blush spread on his cheeks. he pressed to voice chat in valorant. ♡ chat started spamming like crazy, telling everyone to start clipping..!!! ♡ "(um ur val main)- no.. y/n? i um.. i.." " i think i like you"

ayato

♡ ayato, as mentioned before, had started streaming before thoma. his cool persona reflected his little blue haired vtuber. with a complex design, his vtuber avatar was single handedly fueling artists artblock world wide.

♡ he charmed every person withim a hundred mile radius, and the idea of even meeting The Ayato felt impossible. more than impossible actually.

♡ similar to thoma, you probably met him when you befriended thoma or his sister ayaka. of course you didnt intend to meet ayato through them, not even thinking about doing any malicious things to the two, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t dreamt about meeting him one day.

♡ if youre a streamer yourself, best be prepared to be constantly raided and included in ayatos community. it would take a while for him to open up to you, having previous encounters similar to this end poorly, but he cant deny that he found himself attracted to you.

♡ if your a vtuber, again, he would do literally everything to include your model. going as far as commisioning a little plush of your character to go alongside his avatar during chatting streams.

♡ facecam streamer? its basically all the same! he feels smitted whenever he hops onto your stream, losing that poised and cool attitude when he even glances at your face.

♡ even though he doesnt enjoy showing his face, preffering to stay hidden, he loves yours. hes one of the busiest streamers you think, yet youd never expect him raving about you to his sister, smiling at how absurd he sounds. an opposite to his mature outlook and personality.

♡ months after meeting you does he realize that he likes you. he actually likes you..

♡ “ haha, greetings chat. how have you all been today? oh? it seems that plenty of you are mentioning… y/n? hehe.. what about.. them?”

♡ he'd console thoma immediatley, with a cute blush on his face he'd call him. only when he starts to talk about you, thoma would yelp, yelling that "AYATO IM STREAMING!!!" ♡ if ayato didn't dc almost immediatley, he would awkwardly stay silent in the vc. clicking to thomas stream, where thoms himself has a blush on his face as the chat goes crazy.

♡ the next stream he does, chatters would basically interrogate him. poor mods would have to go to sub only- or even emote only for half of the entire stream.

♡ his voice would be shaky in that stream, on the verge of stuttering but seemingly composed to the naked eye.

♡ he doesn't confess early on. although he thought about having a spurratic impulsive decision to sputter out his feelings, it was always just too embarrassing to do in real life. this isn;t some manga fanfiction.. right?

♡ if you don’t confess to him first, there may be a period of awkward mutual pining!! the tooth rotting-just-tell-each other-before-i-vomit kind of period!! ♡ always subbing to your twitch the day it expires, as you do the same. subscribing to your pateron if you have on, and generally being the most generous almost-boyfriend-but-just-friend ever.

♡ falling asleep on call with eachother, he’d do a face reveal to you early on. he trusts you with everything at this point.

♡ he somehow gets your address, and sends you plushies. always telling you beforehand of course- he doesn't want to seem creepy!

♡ when he confesses- it would be in person. he’d buy you a ticket and fly you out to his and ayakas place, letting you sleep on his bed while he takes the couch- or falling asleep with you by accident. who can really tell if this was an accident, or an attempt to cuddle? lolol

♡ he’d buy ayaka and himself face masks and ridiculous sunglasses- the stupid reflctive kind just to get a laugh out of you and thoma.

♡ inviting thoma over, you would all do a sort of baking stream- failed baking at least..

♡ “ayaka- did you add the tapioca starch or the corn starch?” “oops…” ♡ it would be okay, though! all laughs and giggles, the stream eat it up.

♡ down time, while the almost brownies cooled (they gave up on making boba) thoma and ayaka cleaned up while you and ayato brought the computer to entertain the stream. you trying on ayakas sunglasses because she wasnt in frame.

♡ talking to chat, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. you’d only been in his house for almost a few days, but he wished it was like this forever.

♡ you smiled, answering a peculiar question, when he cracked. you were going to go home soon, and he couldn't miss this chance! ♡ pulling down his mask, you looked at him before he pulled you into a hug. you un-stiffened and hugged him back, asking if he was alright.

♡ pulling away, you sat a bit closer, worried about your (obvious) crush..

“y/n. i want to be your boyfriend, right now.”

heizou

♡ you know those like vtubers that duet those singing tiktoks and sing along to popular songs? HE IS ONE OF THEM.

♡ probably would stream genshin- but also party games that are super hyper like jackbox(!) mercy main KING and i like to imagine he plays yoru JUST BECAUSE chat simps so much for him.

♡ started making videos when he was a teenager but it wasnt anything special. like those minecraft videos almost every kid made with bandicam and like a macbook lol ♡ and because he started so early, he A. has gotten cancelled almost every other year and B. really took advantage of the algorithm!!

♡ his intuition really also helped with channel growth- though his voice and personality was the real deal!!

♡ although he does do facecam from time to time, he really prefers his little vtuber icon. mostly because he splurged thousands of dollars on it..

♡ he is totally one of those aforementioned vtuber tiktokers who post clips of their streams, or doing silly trends. on tiktok he blew up, which made it easier to continue growth because he'd been at it for a while before.

♡ probably would stream genshin- but also party games that are super hyper like jackbox(!) mercy main KING and i like to imagine he plays yoru JUST BECAUSE chat simps so much for him.

♡ and because he started so early, (he has gotten cancelled for being mischevious on the internet...) he was able to really study the algorithm. and when tiktok started getting popular his intuition told him to Buy a Vtuber Model.

♡ (definietly jumped on the amoung us train. hes literally a detective in canon dudes)

♡ because his main type of game is party games, you would probably meet him through a mutual streamer friend who recently gained popularity.

♡ probably really connected through scary games like phasmophobia or overwatch2!!

♡ because of his really sudden upward climb in popularity, ot wuld take a while to get closer. he's been through those people trying to be friend with him for the sake of popularity, and it really made me consious of who he hangs out with.

♡ so when he realized how swagger you REALLY are- and not because he's there- he falls hard and he falls fast.

♡ his mind going NONOONONONOONONONONO and heart going AWhAHWhAWhAIOFKDFIGJJKMHNhlgf iykykikyk

♡ if youre also a streamer- be prepared for countless spammy comments in your chat- or honestly weird tweets pinging you.

♡ vtuber? he'd include you in all his tiktoks! duet him with christmas carols!!

♡ facecam? he is reposting those silly capcut edits of you! (or thirsty if youre comfortable..)

♡ he likes you a lot. a lot a lot. because he has so many streaemr friends, he doesnt really connect with anyone of them on a deep level like thoma and ayato. hes been so focused on working at the algorithm and posting and everything that now he wants you- it's toubling lol

♡ would confess to you off stream for sure. he's smart- like really smart- and doesnt want anyone to figure out! he's a detective- he knows this stuff

♡ although he's wary of edating- like i said before he knows himself and he has clues!!

♡ wouldn't need a wingman to dig for information. he is his own wingman.

♡ so when the day he planned for this comes he is Frantic. streams a whole hour late than he announced, and is everywhere. his cool, lively and excited persona GONe!!!!!!!!

♡ you two had liked to do little sleep calls- i mean this has to all be a year into your friendship for him to really be confidient. he may be a rusher but he has brains!

♡ you call with him during his stream randomly- just waked up. groggily responding with his bits and his jokes- and even with chat !!

♡ when he wraps up, he takes a really long look at you. usually these looks are inquisitive and endearing- a smirk or a raised eyebrow scanning your features like he's trying to get clues for some big grand theme- but this time he just looks. nothing reading into you.

" hey y/n- can you like date me or something?"

kuni??wanderer??scaramouche??

♡ he is another one of the tiktoker streamers but in a different way. although he thinks that the vtubing thing is alright for the branding, he finds that it's easier to just use a plain old facecam.

♡ right off the bat- this man has imposter syndrome. although he knows people like him because of his well crafted and imbreakable persona he's slowly sculpted around himself- he still feels like he doesnt deserve it.

♡ his persona is like a giant, multilayered wall and mask. a disguise that people like more than the real him- and he gets lost in it. all these identities- famous streamer "scaramouche"- his mothers "kunikuzushi"- or himself. a wanderer that everyone likes to label.

♡ on top of this, he didn't have many friends. people were turned off by his abrasive attitude, and although he was popular bordering famous, it felt so lonely.

♡ probably plays competitive games like valorant and overwatch and rust- and prefers it. another distraction to get petty in these lobbies, and somehow hidding radiant in valo...

♡ he's a total god at almost any pvp/competitive game- but he is also the pettiest and most spiteful gamer-rage fueled player to exist

♡ you probably arent a big fan of his, actually. i feel like if you were a watcher before meeting him, you would also be sucked into this dark humored- petty little character he built for himself. for a non vtuber- he has lore alright!!

♡ of course you'd heard of the name scaramouche mentioned somewhere, but you hadn't actually seen of his content- or any clips for that matter

♡ you were a fairly new streamer, garnering around 10k followers on twitch with a nice 13k subscribers on youtube! good job, y/n!

♡ you two met at a local gaming cafe. the town you two lived in was fairly small, and the main attraction for people who don;t touch grass was this place. you had came hoping the vlog the expirience, as you'd only come here once or twice with kunikuzushi when it first opened while in your highschool years.

♡ you two were buddies throughout middleschool and highschool- kunikuzushi being severly bullied throughout those younger years, and you trying to stop it.

♡ he got teased relentlessly throughout for having a "weird family", or the fact that he had two moms. it also didn't help that all throughout this he was struggling within himself.

♡ so he was more than suprised when you- a not-too-popular but generally well liked individual- invited yourself to the seat next to him almost every shared block you had.

♡ after three or four years, you started to just join him on things like walking home, or on fieldtrips. of course at first he thought you were the most annoying person ever- or even suspicious this was all a ploy- but after you'd stuck aroundwith him to freshman year- he started to appreciate your company

♡ after highschool, you two had lost touch, and he felt the presence of your company vanish like almost all of his other friends

♡ so when he heard the giggle of your voice sit down on the chair next to his, he felt his eyebrow twitch almost involuntary. what was this loud, annoying noise that felt a little too farmilliar doing here?-

♡ "oops- sorry i was being loud! i hope i didn't both-"

♡ yk that awkward moment when you make eyecontact with someone who was staring at you, but you know exactly who that person is? it's a very niche expirience, but BOY IS IT EMBARRASSING

♡ "hey... you are.."

♡ he braced himself for all the weird and uncomfortable fan expiriences coming his way, and started prematurley praying for there not to be a weird photo request..

♡ "hey- kunikuzushi! how have you been dude- it's been like forever!"

♡ his eyed widened and he really looked at you again- "y/n??"

♡ after that first interaction, you two had started talking. at first he felt uncomfortable in his own skin- like maybe it had been a little too long since he had a real friend. but soon, he started melting for your personality.

♡ insanely protective of you- but not like in a weird way. at this stage he values your friendship, and like everything about his personal life, he really wanted to keep it under wraps for the prying eyes.

♡ if you’re a streamer, he defienetly gives you streaming tips and will help- but don’t expect him to carry you to fame. he actually doesn’t want to taint your own career with his crazy and weird fans, so you and him stay quiet about your growing relationship.

♡ it doesn;t take him long to fall, and he defienetly fell first, but boy did he try to ignore everything. this connection fuels him, but it feels like it’s eating him aswell. he’s kinda scared on the hold you have on him lol

♡ he doesn’t fold though, even after three or four months of reckless platonic flirting and sleepovers and weird romantic tension, until his coord breaks

♡ his chat had found your channel in an open tab- a mistake of his- and after weird speculation tiktoks they had raided you essentially

♡ some had good intent! but others left a nasty trail on your quaint little community that he wanted to desperatley to avoid. he actually found out with you when you two were hanging out at his place and a mod had dmed him

♡ you were none the wiser, but apparently your name was trending on twitter with kuni’s aswell...

♡ he kinda liked seeing your names together

♡ he really liked seeing your names together

♡ for how he confesses- i think that it was private and clumsy and messy but the most loveable

♡ he asks you to sleepover- which you oblige after mentions of snacks and games and drinks- and when you arrive you see him sitting pensivley on the couch

“y/n? i like you.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader fluff #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #heizou x reader #genshin fluff #genshin streamer au #thoma x reader

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 2 months

Text

s3 episode 4 thoughts

here we are!!! i actually turned off auto caps on my phone for this; that’s how serious this blog is getting. don't worry, i'll probably remember to turn it back on before i send an important email.

i haven’t seen an ep in a few days and i feel like it has been 80 years. the last episode wasn’t the greatest, so our time apart feels even longer.

this episode is about a guy named clyde. clyde bruckman is a hell of a name. i’m expecting a real cowboy. a guy who knows his way around a horse. he probably spits chew in a certain fashion. we shall see if i’m correct.

(editor's note: op found that clyde was not a cowboy, but something just as special... a friend <3)

we open with a man reading a magazine article on predictions, written by a celebrity psychic. we later learn that this fellow doing the reading is, in fact, clyde bruckman. and elvis being dead but buddy holly being alive has got to be one of the greatest theories i’ve ever heard. i WILL incorporate this into my belief system.

allegedly, buddy holly is going to open at a big music festival. and this is how i learn that lollapalooza was a thing even before chappell roan visited... but we all know that when she steps on that stage in a few short weeks it will blow anything secretly alive buddy holly could have cooked up in his wildest dreams. "the night the music died" <- crazy thing to say about a time before miss roan was even born. anyway...

bruckman ran into someone in the street. feels like a chekov’s gun moment but who knows.

hint: it was!

now the clumsy man is at the psychic. and he says he saw his own future and he seem himself doing things that are “out of character”. now that's suspicious~

OH??? clumsy man just killed the fortune teller and says she should have seen this coming. HUH???? clumsy murder man needs to be punished …our psychics deserve federal protection.

we are at the scene of a murder. a different murder, because this one did NOT take place in the psychic's room. “they say the eyes capture the last thing a murder victim sees” “so what do they say about the entrails?” “yuck” LMAO i giggled a little….

they’re talking about some guy in vague terms, that he’s “unorthodox” and “a kook”, and then mulder walks in and it looks like they’re talking about him but the investigator says “who the hell are you” HAHAHA that got me as well

so the murderer left behind the eyeballs and scully says that they made a profile for the killer and i’m thinking yaaaaay they worked together <3 i love that spooky mulder, the well-established profiling expert, is willing to collaborate. but with her only.

and also the house is filled with porcelain dolls

mulder knowing the professional name for the people who read tea leaves… unfortunately i love him so bad.

THEN the real star of the show rolls up. it’s the psychic from the cover of the magazine we saw clyde reading earlier. CROWDED w paparazzi. he's got a vague european accent going on here. hold up is that jon favreau in the background. i received no clarification on if that was him or not.

psychic is describing a guy who could be literally anyone “white man with facial hair… or not” “tattoo somewhere on his body” wow king of specifics. it's like he's in the room with us. /s

the agents are watching him do this and share a glance and i want it on a poster it’s sooo cute <3

celebrity psychic says he lost the vision from negative energy and then gets right up in the agent’s faces. they handle it pretty well, all things considered. because i would be telling him to back tf up.

he asks mulder to LEAVE!!!! he has been diagnosed with negative energy. she leans in and says “i can’t take you anywhere” LMAOOOO so he stands outside and then the psychic says that skeptics like mulder make him sick. yeah i laughed!!! so what!

description of our guy: “white male, 17-34, with or without a beard, maybe a tattoo, who is impotent” <- wow.

back to the clyde cam. he's selling insurance. telling some guy that he is going to die in a car crash. well this is an effective life insurance sales policy. or not, because he doesn’t close the deal!! sure would have worked on me.

back home, he takes out some moldy cabbage that looks like a guy’s head into the trash. takes out his neighbor’s trash as well, and sees a vision of the dog eating her remains. (sabrina brier voice) oh!!!

(wait i just realized i reference that video all the time and have never cited my sources. if you are unfamiliar with the legendary "oh!" moment please click here)

back to the plot at hand.

clyde asks if his neighbor has enough dog food. thoughtful man. BUT he sees a body in the trash!

this episode is making me giggle <- don't remember what prompted that note but it was true.

clyde, who reported the murder, says that he knew the eyes were cut out, but she was found face down... so. how do you know that. site your sources. “well it just figures”, he says, and it absolutely, and i cannot emphasize this enough, does not

they bring him to… a murder scene. dun dun dun!

he thinks they're pranking him and asks to see their identification again (sees mulder’s badge) “i’m supposed to believe that’s a real name?” yeah get him again for me.

he sees blood at the crime scene and throws up which... yeah. that’s pretty messed up. he emerges from throwing up and starts saying and doing the same things as the earlier psychic. but then he starts getting... a bit more specific. allegedly, the woman was having sex with the killer before she met her end.

“well then, what’s wrong?” “sometimes, it just seems that everyone’s having sex except for me” LMAOOOOOOOOO clyde you are too real

scully looks soooo confused and i love it

all of a sudden, he sees one of the many dolls as a bloated corpse head, and announces where they’ll find the body then… hands the doll to mulder. which is not the first time we have seen him holding a doll. it is an interesting visual. what are they trying to tell us??

scully isn’t buying it. why does clyde know all this stuff? “i don’t believe he’s the killer”, says mulder, and she responds with, “i don’t believe he’s psychic” yeah that’s the dynamic i love. and she is sooooo pretty.

mulder goes to the dude’s house and he knows exactly what is going on. but then clyde seems shocked it's him so we are getting mixed messages here.

he asks mulder if he wants to know how he’s going to die, and mulder says yes after stuttering a little and i’m like WOAH where is this going… but clyde responds with “no you don’t”, which, okay yeah, i don’t think i could handle that either

(he goes on to try and sell mulder insurance)

clyde says the future is inevitable. or if he does get involved… what if there is the whole butterfly effect thing? and then he immediately agrees to going along with the investigation. king of not having an answer. the indecisive representation we deserve.

mulder you’re so pretttttyy... look at him watching clyde touch some brass frogs and base conclusions off of them.

scully arrived at the door as mulder has his head FLAT ON THE TABLE lmaoooo

so, it appears that clyde can ONLY tell how people are going to die. nothing else. now is that useful to this investigation? it's arguable. maybe they can find an angle.

clyde says that the scrap of fabric he’s holding comes from mulder’s new york knick’s t shirt (which was a thing that happened in 1x13 when he was testing that other psychic!!!! ohhhh i remember! do not think i forgot!! and i was confused as to why he would have a knick’s shirt if he was from new england... perhaps he knows no loyalty to geography when it comes to sport)

but mulder denies that it is his shirt anyway, so.

they found keychains on the bodies, and clyde is going on about all the personal information of whoever owned said keychains. it turns out he just sold the guy an insurance policy a few months ago lmaooo... but he knows he was murdered! the death power strikes again.

scully is driving. clyde is in the passenger seat. mulder is sticking his head in between them, asking how he receives his psychic transmissions. it's funny. he wants to know how being a psychic works! so is it like, visions, or dreams or something?

he then implies that mulder will die by autoerotic asphyxiation <- HELLO????? he looks at scully after receiving this news. as if she can possibly defend him against such an accusation.

they’re in the forest looking for a body and clyde explains he knew “the big bopper” was going to die.

scully says she doesn’t believe in that stuff, and even if she did, she wouldn’t believe that story. damn, just really going for his throat, huh. he seems to believe her indignation is over the fact that he liked the big bopper better than buddy holly and he defends himself.

they try to get the car out and mulder’s suit gets all dirty (this is sad to me, a mulder suit enjoyer) but gasp!!! the car is RIGHT OVER THE BODY. that has to be bad for finding evidence. so he did know exactly where it was!!!!

they have a thread from the scene, and have presented it to clyde. “but don’t you have crime labs that analyze these things for you?” he asks scully “yes. yes we do” (pointed glare at mulder) LMAOOOO but he says it takes time!!! and they still haven't analyzed the other thread. so please please please just give your powers a go.

he doesn’t want to help out, but mulder says he wants some insurance. on the fiber, not actual life insurance :( clyde was so excited to tell him the benefits of general mutual!!!

clyde is describing mulder being stalked by the killer sometime in the future, and all of a sudden scully’s up and asking him for more details like she believes it. awww. it’s sweet in a way. does she believe in psychics? no. is she still gonna take detailed notes when one says mulder is in any slight danger? yeah. and don't worry about that seeming to contradict her belief system. she is complicated beyond simple characterizations of skeptic or believer.

he seems to think that the killer will slit mulder’s throat at the investigation, but he doesn’t want to tell him. he DOES tell him that he will step on a pie before whatever happens to him, happens to him.

thank you to the subtitles for clarifying that clyde was imitating johnny carson because they reference would have been lost on me. i know, i’m uncultured, i’m sorry. i’ll google it though. okay, as i thought, he was a late night host. see? we get an exchange of knowledge on this blog, i learn about johnny carson's way of pronouncing the word "killer" and you can use sabrina brier's "oh" in conversation now.

it seems the killer sent clyde a letter saying he’ll kill him. and he’ll be dead before they can get him help :( noooo i like mr bruckman!!! :(

back to the killer. he’s getting a tarot reading and says he’s looking for a guy he’s gonna kill. the man doing the tarot reading smiles nervously, because what do you say in such a situation.

they seem to have bought clyde a pie after his earlier ramblings on the subject, and he kindly asks scully if she wants some, but she denies because she must study background checks instead of relying upon visions. he asks if she is jealous. a good banter between them.

back at the tarot place, the reader mentions a woman. MAYBE A REDHEAD...? stay away from her…

clyde is going on about seeing himself in bed with scully. HELLO??? “it’s just a very special moment neither of us will ever forget” huh. laughs nervously. what the fuck. is she gonna find him dead or do we need to call HR.

(cries editing this, now that i know how the episode ends)

it seems the tarot card guy is about to get murdered. but back at the hotel room with clyde and scully, they’re playing cards and she’s talking about moby dick and macbeth misinterpreting prophecies...

but despite the denial, SHE ASKS HIM HOW SHE DIES??? he says “you don’t” and that is exactly what i like to hear <3

she seemed really serious about it too, like she didn’t want to admit that she was curious, initially deflecting. oh best believe i WILL psychoanalyze that.

LMAOOO okay so this is the episode where mulder says the “chantilly lace” line and she makes that face. he's referring to another thread found at a murder scene, but i saw it in a gif and i have been thinking about it since then.

she slaps his chest with the file and says good luck as he goes to babysit the old man psychic. it was very affectionate. do it again.

mulder is in bed. it’s sleepover time with the old man. “you’re not one of those people that turns everything into a sexual symbol, are you?”, clyde asks, seemingly self-conscious about revealing his recurring dream. mulder says no, but i’m unconvinced.

anyway, he talks about seeing himself dead, and how his body fades away. we see a cgi decomposing body and it’s quite gnarly. maybe it's clay? and all his skin faded away and he becomes bones. kinda gross tbh. but he says he feels at peace.

there’s been another murder, so another guy is gonna babysit our clyde, and i’m thinking noooo don’t trust this other guy!!

scully says she feels bad, that clyde has convinced himself he is a psychic and it’s taken all the joy out of his life :(

okay, the guy babysitting him seems to be telling him jokes. clyde says he won’t die of lung cancer so he lights up. and i'm thinking, buddy, he did not rule out emphysema.

hang on. that is a lighter we have seen before. in the hands of old lady who shall be eaten by dogs. now is this a mass produced object or are we about to witness the end of clyde!!!!

“don’t open that door for anybody”, says the babysitter, and clyde then immediately proceeds to do so. and who is it knocking but the psychic killer delivering their room service!!!

killer is asking clyde why he does these things and it’s “because you’re a homicidal maniac” well that would explain it! and then he stabs the babysitter. but clyde has delayed his fate by telling the murder he doesn’t kill him now. seems he believes him. clever thinking.

scully realizes that the killer is the bellhop at the hotel after seeing some more lace. which mulder describes as “woman’s intuition” yea <3

back at the hotel. mulder is in the kitchen. he sees the killer with the knife. it is all going down as clyde described it. now if there really is a pie do NOT BE DISTRACTED. OH there is a pie. and he knows he has to turn around, so he turns THE OTHER WAY. noooo!!!!!

they get in a struggle!!! mulder’s bleeding, and scully gets off the elevator just in time. she shoots the murderer. no hesitation on taking a life, she will kill a motherfucker for mulder. i love that about her.

and scully only got there because she took the wrong elevator!!! more pondering on the meaning of fate!!!!!

i love when one of these bitches is on the floor in pain and the other comes over and comforts them. i think i need that in my life just once. it would heal me.

but the question is: where is bruckman?

they go to find him and they only find a dog tied to the door?? and a letter to scully. it’s the dog from before, the neighbor's pet. the letter from clyde says to take care of his neighbor's remains. and he asks if she wants a dog, and that you can’t blame him for the dog’s actions. so they go into the room.

BUT IT IS BRUCKMAN THAT IS DEAD IN THERE. it looks he took pills and suffocated himself. scully looks so so so so so sad.

AND OMG!!! SHE IS HOLDING HIS HAND WHILE HE IS IN BED AND CRYING. JUST LIKE HE SAID WOULD HAPPEN. WAIT THIS IS SO SAD.

so that must be why he say a head in a bag at the start of the episode, it was his own death... and the killer was right, he did get to clyde before he was caught, he just didn't attack him. huh. funny how prophecies play out.

cutscene to her on the couch WITH THE DOG IN HER LAP. and an ad from the earlier eastern european psychic is on the tv. she throws the phone at him.

A DOG!!! a dog. okay, a lot to think about, but first and foremost we have scully with a dog <3 and it sits in her lap while she watches TV. and it MAY have tasted human flesh, which i feel is a hard thing to get past, but clearly she has done it. she has done the emotional labor of knowing that fuzzball knows what human meat feels like. and she has faith that this dog will not do the same to her. that is an awful lot of trust for a new dog. but we do know she loves animals. so perhaps she trusts the puppy.

i always pictured her with a big ol mutt from the pound. but a little dog can be just as good of a friend. and it WAS a rescue. that is important!

okay. back to the episode at hand, dog aside. even though it is a BIG deal to me and i'm honestly being so brave by not going on a monologue about what scully having a dog means to me. this episode was definitely comedic, and like the earlier comedic episode, i liked it a lot! but the ending made me so sad :( it was a pretty abrupt tone shift.

still. the episode was SO good. i kept pausing every few seconds to write things down because they made me laugh or otherwise intrigued me (thinking of scully playing cards and explaining macbeth. or chantilly lace line. or "i can't take you anywhere". i will try not to think of mulder's potential death by choking himself for my own sanity)

and i liked clyde a lot. we get a lot of one time characters who we will never see again and so it’s good when those characters make an impact in the short amount of time we share with them.

and i’m always gonna take a light-hearted episode, as light-hearted as a show where serial killing is a daily occurrence can be. it does go to show though that there wasn’t always a consistent tone throughout the story. and i do find that interesting. i am part of a generation where we typically get 6 hour long episodes of a tv show per season, and they’re so condensed there is very little time for exploration with genre or tone. in general, i have loathed this about modern television; the death of the filler episode has been lamented by people far more eloquent than myself.

the only thing i dislike about this format- doing a silly episode- is that if the next episode ends up being really dark it’s like, woah man, the whimsy, where did it go? last season we got humbug, which was SO fresh and funny, and then within the first 3 minutes of the next episode, a baby was killed by a train. so i lowkey got whiplash. but then again, i watched those episodes back to back, so maybe having a week between them seeing them air as they hit TV would have softened the blow. feel free to chime in with your theories on the nature of genre and how pacing of episode viewing effects that experience.

overall, a very good episode. i rank it up with humbug as one of my favorites, which is again funny, because i love the extreme angst and the silly. i paused to take so many notes because i liked so many things that i think i should someday rewatch it again and get a smoother experience haha

#now i'm pondering on the explorations in tone a 24 episode season of television allows you to have #is there a constant tone in this show? beyond the spooky? how would i describe it to a friend? all questions i am asking #i meant that i said about scully not being as simple as falling into mere “skeptic” or “believer” categories btw #i don't think she will fully admit it to herself but that's a conversation for another day when she's ready to have it #because clearly at this point in time she isn't.#but there have been things and i notice them. that is all.#there is a dog now which is huge.#but who will care for it when she must fly off to some sad little motel to investigate the latest grisly tragedy?#maybe her friend that plays the cello will come and let her out. maybe her mom if she's in the area still. a dog is good for the soul.#especially because she just lost missy.... no i'm sad now :((#juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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