#like you've known this old man for nearly half your life

[rickybaby]

No matter how much Helmut annoys me at times, but this man really was there for the beginning of Daniel's career. No wonder Daniel knows what he has to do to impress him. Their relationship is wildly complicated.

en.espn.co.uk/hrtf1/motorsport/story/53044.html

Imagine you're Helmut Marko. You've seen hundreds of young drivers come and go. You've made the careers of some, and broken the careers of many more others. It's 2007 and you see this lanky guy with big poofy hair come 6th in some regional junior championship and you think he's maybe quick enough to be part of your junior team. And then he shows up to meet you and the team boss for the first time with his shoes squelching water all over the floor because he fell into some fountain outside because he was too busy gawking at the Red Bull headquarters. Surely, you wouldn't have much hope of him surviving the shark tank that is the red bull junior academy, but yet he surprises you by jumping through every hoop you throw at him, by his sheer dogged determination to show you he can be your next golden boy. So, of course, he's going to have your grudging respect and you wouldn't mind playing godfather for a bit and use your influence to get him a seat at some struggling team - it's like here's another challenge for you, show me what you can do.

[ikemenomegas]

Our faults lie flattered

title drawn from the bard's Sonnet 138 summary: You ruminate on your relationship with Gojo Satoru, to whom you no longer owe anything, and wake up beside Shoko, to whom you owe much more than you've given cw: omegaverse setting, unhealthy (very) consumption of alcohol, brief emetophobia, passive thoughts about partners/mates following one another into death, canonical character's (probably permanent) death, implications of an afterlife, explorations of grief and abandonment

Do you dream about him still?

Shoko's voice traces smoky through the vaultless sky, an equal echo to how she'd looked at you - with pity and a physician's distant, seeking stare - a short glass in her hand, ball of ice melting into the whiskey inside. She'd asked the question as a mouthful of whatever cocktail you had filled your mouth with enough sweetness to forget how much alcohol was in it but for the way it burned its way down. Even that was more easily blamed on the kick of sriracha behind the aperol.

It gave her time to watch for the uptick in your pulse, or the way your chest tightened and made it hard to swallow.

No, you had said once it was down, the words thick in your throat. Really, I hardly think of him at all these days.

She'd frowned, which she really should have probably done more of considering you were again drinking to forget, for the soft, fluttering hints of better days before memory was shunted away into a dizzy haze.

It was true, but it was also intentional. Every ache in your chest was pushed aside, ever overwhelming tide was overstepped. After he'd returned from the box, you had already indulged in over a month of speculations regarding your intentions and his, even before he'd... gone, and how he had set you free.

You sucked on the herbed sugar rimming your glass. Free, all free, of obligation, of oath, of aching for something-- you slammed down the wide base of the stemmed glass, eyes shadowed.

It was true. If you didn't think on him, you would not remember him. You couldn't remember all the things left undone, unsaid, all the questions left unanswered...

He hadn't left you with even a scar to remember him by.

Your head was heavy when you lifted it and smiled, as much for Shoko's benefit as for the bartender warily eying you, fiddling with the towel swung over his shoulder as if unsure what to do with his hands. I'll get over it. I will. It's taking time, but I don't... I try not to dwell on it, Shoko, you know that, your tongue was clumsy, slow as you enunciated.

She knew, you knew she did, but it seemed suddenly very important to remind her. How you didn't think how in his last moments, the man you'd sworn your life to hadn't wanted you, how he'd said goodbye without looking back, how he hadn't known you weren't watching.

You were getting over your partner dying, it was not uncommon. One would always outlive the other. As much as it was not common to be cut in half...

You stomach had turned like you'd been upended, the room nearly spinning like you'd suddenly decided to stand on the ceiling.

A party trick, Satoru had called it when you'd done it before. You'd been full of paltry games and parlour tricks, magic disguised as slight of hand, light at your fingertips, fire on your tongue, hovering in the air like a hummingbird.

Couldn't one be forgiven, when they never knew they'd grow up with it, for enjoying that it was real, for finding magic a little beautiful for all that it was terrible?

Your hand went to your mouth and you could have laughed, loud and raucous and taunting, at the way the bartender grabbed for his towel. Shoko hadn't done more than press a hand to your shoulder to keep you from falling to the floor as you wobbled on the stool. You'd never thrown up on the battlefield, nor from old soup, not even from being nailed in the stomach by curses or fellow sorcerers or Yaga's awful little cursed corpses.

Being sick had been his thing. He'd get horrible nausea before his cycles sometimes and his breathe would smell constantly of the ginger candies you'd found for him to take off the edge.

Your smile threatened to falter and even behind your hand, you forced it wider to belie the soft, pained sound which left your lips.

You hadn't cried either, since he died. It hurt too much for that, a pain beyond reckoning, which you had no right to anymore. It wouldn't kill you, his death, no matter how much you almost wanted it to.

Shoko's glass was over half full and fully inviting, but it wouldn't knock you out fast enough for this to all go away, to lock itself back behind the wall your mind seemed to have built to save you from daze that lurked beyond, tapping at the barrier in unwanted moments.

He hadn't wanted this to hurt you. That is what you hoped, but even though you'd made the choice to follow his plan, to remove your mark, it wasn't what you had wanted.

Drinking had hereto seemed to keep dreams, good and bad, from intruding upon the kind of sleep which never left you feeling rested.

This, blue above and blue ahead, was much nicer than what you remembered of the bar - although it too had been fairly nice. A peaceful expanse of sand, water shushing on your right, a breeze whispering in your ear, gardens with wooden walkways tempting you inland on the left.

A frisson ran through the air, there was an unnatural slash through the trees, but you shook it away and it was nothing, gone, grown over.

Here, you relaxed, you were intent upon it. Although surrounded by water on all sides, seldom had coming to the ocean been a relaxing experience, not when you were constantly called to the scenes of natural disasters or into the orbit of fates far greater than your own.

The water was oddly calm.

You went closer, feeling sand slide soft between your toes. It looked like the tide was going out, the flat expense of saturated sand washed wet with each grasp of the waves. It smoothed things like glass, washing away marks and footprints.

Your reflection matched you step for step when you veered towards that boundary.

Watching that hypnotizing barrier was probably why you didn't notice the figure occupying this in-between until their reflection bloomed by yours.

Your head jerked up, lips parted in silent surprise.

He was facing towards the horizon, his back turned towards you although you should have been able to see his profile with the way you were walking... best to leave it alone.

The wind kicked up, ruffling the soft fall of white hair about his temples. It blew harder and harder, ruffling the sea into little white capped waves, and then it passed.

Things settled back down around the little bubble of disbelief that had halted your steps without a single any movement from...

His name still tasted like poison on your lips, your throat closed around it, keeping it from choking free.

At the funeral, they would have given him some long, solemn, symbolic precept name, making it safe for him to be called, but somehow you couldn't bring yourself to invoke him. Maybe it was out of fear, and certainty that there was no way for him to answer.

Instead, you shuffled forward, heels drawing dashed tracks in the sand as you dragged your feet.

His bulk was familiar as your pressed first your fingers - to check that he would not collapse into mist at a touch - and then your palms like the start of wings on his back.

Was it only imagination that said he leaned into it? Shifting his perfectly balanced weight a little bit further back as you leaned your cheek flat between your palms, your ear turned far enough to catch the imagined sound of his lungs as his ribs shifted minutely against your touch.

How long had you wanted this? How long did you have it? You'd given it up, from fear, from a petty envy that you'd thought yourself above. His grasp on your had been tenuous at best, tied as you were by choice rather than fate-

Isn't it fate to share the world at the same moment-

-and you had held on just as lightly, like letting light lay over your palms rather than trying to grip it tight where it would just slip away.

You had thought him made of distance. Was he incapable of connecting with others, or simply unwilling? It had always seemed to be part of both.

He is not warm beneath your hands, in the same way the light in this place must be sun yet is not warmth and the water that much be sea is not cool. But he is there. Whether in a memory or as a visitor, drawn here by lowered inhibitions, who knew.

You had spent years forgetting that for all the distance between all people, all things, they found ways to come together again, to intertwine, in resonance or coalition.

You breathed, once, twice. Now he shifted, unmistakable.

You took half a step back. Your hands slipped down the powder-soft material of his shirt, from his shoulder-blades, and down his ribs.

Once, many years ago, you had been warned that one could grow tired of his beauty. And that was true. Like a cut stone, as a whole, one could grow used to him, the eye drawn instead to new flickers and bends in the depths, glimmers from within rather than the form as a whole.

It was those glimmers of light which winked back at you, emotion condensed into memory: times he made the ache in your chest almost feel like two sides of a wound touching, moments in which you believed wholeheartedly and without force in the presence of his humanity. Remembering those first odd days of your courtship when you couldn't fathom why he would come to you for anything tilted things sideways before you righted yourself.

In the end, none of these hopes had been yours. Maybe they could have been. Had you forgotten that you indeed could catch sunlight, that you did it every day of every summer unless the sky was filled with thunder? In which case, the drum of that could be yours too.

Still, that would have made him part of you, and Satoru had always been resistant to being subsumed.

Regardless, you would never know now. He would always and forever have been only almost yours.

What are you doing here... I've missed you

You kept your hands pressed to his back even as you thought Of course someone would miss a near constant, we'd known each other for almost thirteen years.

This seemed to be the way it always was. When you missed him too much, thought about him too much, you ended up dreaming about him. Even before you had married him, after he'd stuck himself into your life like a thorn, there had been times it had eased the ever present loneliness.

And there had been just as many times that you woke feeling more alone than ever, knowing you would never get the version of Satoru that visited in your dreams, belonging only to you.

This Satoru, scarless and uncovered and determinedly not ash, spoke in echos. "I've missed you," he said.

It makes you grit your teeth against whatever is behind that wall, threatening to wash away everything you've tried to hold onto.

"If you say so." It leaves your lips careless, all your bitter feelings held back by habit, all the cruel accusations you never wanted to level at him.

But this time, there's nothing to salvage by it, so after a few moments, you let go of him, let that distance that never seemed to fade fall back between the two of you, and started walking.

He followed, tethered by consciousness or whatever stuff had summoned the object of both your longing and your ire.

In the back of your mind, you knew the scenery was changing, even though it didn't feel like it. It meant you didn't know how long you walked, the white shoulder of his shirt bobbing in and out of your peripheral vision. You let yourself feel the comfort of knowing he was there, of knowing that you belonged at his side for one more brief moment.

He sometimes talked like an imitation of a human. Greetings he didn't mean, inquiries to which he had no interest in the answer - or maybe he did. He liked people, heavens knew why, even if his attention seemed to move on as quickly as it was piqued.

He followed, seeming content enough, your momentary Eurydice. For some reason, the thought of turning around to face him was unbearable. You were afraid you wouldn't remember his face, or that you would remember it wrong, and wake up knowing that a little more of him had abandoned you.

Oh well, maybe it didn't matter, anymore.

You reached, briefly, behind you, like you'd sometimes used to do on the rare occasions Satoru walked home with you. Just like then, a shimmering dread filled your chest - only then it had been that he'd leave you grasping, fingers wiggling stupidly for him so everyone who walked by you knew beyond a doubt that your own mate didn't even want to hold your hand. There was no one here, although the beach had the warm, surrounding feeling of summer.

Anticipatory tears still began to prick your eyes, humiliation, disappointment brought on by a terrible confirmation of your worst expectations, dejection, it all rippled over you, just quick enough to take off the edge. It could only be your imagination that something soft as a breeze seemed to brush your fingertips before you pulled your hands back and fisted them in the long, light coat trailing from your shoulders.

One could neither see nor touch the dead after all.

This may be the last time you got to make your confessions. He'd returned to you in neither dream nor vision before this.

Why would he when what he wanted was where he had gone?

You took a deep breathe and blew it out. You were far and away old enough now to know acknowledging ill feelings dispelled them faster than trying to pretend you didn't have them. Mastering this was your power, take the blow, let it linger, and in this way it wouldn't hurt you. But he had always hit harder and faster than anyone else you ever knew, always able to overwhelm your ability to endure if you were in contact with him long enough.

Recalling the clean snap of both bones in your right forearm breaking is just as easy as remembering the look of surprise, of denial, of arrogance and somehow, of remorse, that had crossed Satoru's face the first time you'd let him hurt you.

What would it have taken to at least make sure that appearance of contrition remained, or at least perplexity in realizing it was his hand causing a pain that fit no specific purpose?

The inland treeline broke around a cluster of coconut trees, green fruits clustered beneath the leaves.

You looked up between the wide fronds.

"I wanted you to love me." I tried so hard not to have anything in me that needed saving. Somehow, it feels like you've been talking for hours, like you're answering a question he never asked. Sometimes you could walk hand in hand like that, like this, for what felt like hours, saying nothing, saying everything. The pressure would ease between you, leaving things feeling renewed, like after a gentle rain.

What kind of life was it where you crushed yourself down smaller and smaller, trying to make yourself unobtrusive among the noisy clutter that surrounded him? It hadn't been like that every day, but there had been days where you'd felt that you needed to be so small in order to earn the larger fraction marriage said you were supposed to be able to claim.

"I did."

A wet roll of your eyes, teeth in your lip. How ridiculous, how stupid, to coddle yourself at this stage of things.

"Liar." The dull accusation trips from your mind to your mouth even when it really is your fault. You should not have shrunk small even if it was your way (his knuckles had been warm right before they snapped your radius). You should have opened a way for him to let the soft animal of his body nestle against yours, build a den for him, let his infinity fill your well to bursting if need be. But I wasn't the one with a black hole where my heart should be. I should have loved you better.

I should have burdened you with being human instead of me. Was I not selfish enough?

"Not a lie," he said, voice low, musical and light at your back. And not there.

"A lie," you insisted in a half-whispered, miserable and lonely and alone. You'd been lonely for a long time. I should have loved you better, even though it wasn't me you loved.

He'd never held you, not like normal people were supposed to hold the ones they loved - like they needed them, like they needed the weight to hold them down, like they needed another body to fill the space between their arms.

In the way of dreams you were at his back again without every having turned to look at his face. You pressed your cheek against his spine.

"Lie to me." Your voice cracked in a pleading command, thick in your throat.

A heavy fine-fingered hand petted your head. In the way of dreams, he held you now against his chest without having moved. Had you walked down the beach at all or were you still trapped on that same stretch of shore?

"I do love you," he whispered after a pause, "I did. Best I could." So earnest, all that pointed, crystalline emptiness open to accept you.

Was it emptiness, or simply vastness? I had to believe I belonged in this world to survive it. Why couldn't I believe I was part of yours?

"I am never going to see you again," you whispered.

There was a smile in Satoru's voice. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. You miss me."

In the way of dreams, that last word was both binary and indistinct, me becoming something like 'us'.

Reflexive, bitter denial rose up in you. Refusing the embrace of longing so long had made it second nature. After many years and many lessons, the gaps in your defenses had been shored up well against loss. Perhaps too well. You wanted to hold tight the figure against you as much as you wanted to push him away.

In the salt-scented wind that picked up, you instinctually closed your eyes. When you opened them, he was gone and you were alone again.

You looked around for a short time before concluding in the strange taffy-stretched time of dreams that you really were alone. In that moment, a whisper carried on the breeze, unmistakable.

"We miss you."

You'd told him, your subconscious, to lie to you. The dream was thinning now, but there was just enough realism left for you to wrinkle your nose in the way Shoko was starting to tell you would stick on your face, and mutter "asshole."

Shoko hummed lightly, sighing and rolling over in bed. She'd never been a very sound sleeper, something that had once been reassuring as you always knew immediately if she was beside you. "Me?" She murmured, both offended and amused.

You made a brief, thin groan in the negative. Ah, your eyes hurt almost like you'd never closed them and your skin was ice cold even beneath a light cover. Summer wasn't all done, yet it felt so cold, all your warmth turned inward.

Moonlight shone so bright upon Shoko through the window, making her almost a toneless painting, both stark and somewhat impressionistic with lithe limbs peaking from sleeves and legs of a short pajama set.

You feel more tired having obviously slept, and dreamt, than you felt was comfortable upon waking. Blinking slowly caused the world to sort of shimmer at the edges, and the blocks of silver and black that shaped Shoko among the hotel linens were incredibly fascinating. You were still drunk then, although without the sour dizziness of hangover, so she must have gotten some water into you before you stopped remembering the evening.

Your closed your eyes shut tight.

You'd started to worry you'd forget it, but if only. His voice lingered like the taste of sugar syrup in your mouth, as good as if his lips had been on yours instead of his memory hijacked by your own faithless wishes, whispering in your ear.

It was easier to allow your guilt and your anger their few moments of devotion. They were your most constant companions now, you had known them even before you had known about others like you.

Moonlight comes in after, like a silver balm. If you'd had your choice, you would have been fully a night creature. Starlight and moonlight did not burn or press against you like the light of day did, ever seeking an outlet once you let its boundless, burning brightness in.

Once your power had grown enough to affirm itself, sunlight had been the easiest of energies to convert, almost instinctual. It pressed right against the skin and sunk in without needing to know where the edges of it were, it gave itself to you.

Suguru had loved to talk about sorcery, about magic, child hthat he'd been, with normal parents and from a country town like you. He had liked to talk about it with you. He had once guessed that the way you had been forced to learn so quickly to cycle power, to change it, had tried pushing a separation between it and you so it wouldn't burn you from the inside you, is part of what slowed your progress, your exploration as a sorcerer.

Surely he would be gratified now, to see the way you inhabited your body. Yet you did not feel one with your power (not like him). You inhabited it to, as it filled and moved from and through you, but you were never it and it was never you.

Nevertheless, moonlight washed over you like warm bathwater, and starlight like the touch of a faint summer breeze. You wished it were as cool as it looked with your eyes open.

Suddenly, you were very tired. You recognized it by now as the tug of sleep that sometimes came after drinking enough to loosen the perpetual balled tightness of your body.

Enough to admit you missed him and the quiet that surrounded him, the true cool of the waiting void between all things. He was so good at making one feel lonely, so familiar a loneliness it was almost easy to fall into it by memory alone... but no. There was someone in this room with you, in the bed. Her skin was warm. Her scent was cool.

You remembered meeting them, truly meeting them, not that first day in Tokyo when you'd barely cared what happened or where you were, who you met, what voices overlapped in the halls.

It had been like standing in the shade after spending years baking in a field in July. Only one of your tall trees was left.

"I am not sure," you mumbled sleep threatening to drag you back down, "I would have been good to you if I'd picked you from the start." It would be easier to stay silent, to let things remain as they were, not to risk her pulling away from you, but you'd done that once already, and look where it had ended. This acknowledgement brings you back to shallow waking, a fish hooked through the mouth.

Shoko's beautiful brown eyes are a little hazy but the shadows beneath haven't been as deep, not since they two of you have been away and Shoko has been able to sleep.

She blinks once, slowly. How did she see you? You had been altered, colored, by his presence in your life, strange and momentary as it had been.

"I think I was a special kind of awful, with you. What kind of person keeps giving someone hope again and again, when so much else points to never being able to offer more?"

It's all too easy to see how she tries to smile and doesn't manage it. It's not okay, so she doesn't say it is, but it happened and you're here anyway so she doesn't say it's not. You think that maybe she doesn't fault you for being selfish, but she also might have once wanted for more from you, more you couldn't give, more you gave to someone else.

The yawning empty you tried day after day to avoid ached in your chest as your own words from the dream came back to you. Some part of you both hoped and grieved that you would never see him again. Why should you? You might have stepped into your power, but there were plenty of times that, trapped between geniuses and impossible power-houses, you felt... incidental. You certainly shared no thread of fate with him.

The bitter old thought sent another pang through your chest, but you let it pass over and then through you.

There would be other lives, but none, you hoped and grieved, like this one.

For a very long time you had resisted the opaqueness of Shoko's eyes, acknowledging that she pressed her own wants even further down than you. She was stronger than you for not resenting you getting something that eventually you had begun to want.

She did not look at you with longing or expectation, or the apprehension you might expect. Someone had told you before that marriage made people into poor friends. You had told yourself it would not be so for you, yet you'd gotten swept up in your own private troubles just the same.

You wondered, if she wanted it, whether you now could offer her what could not be offered to you.

You didn't need another life, another chance. There was not much to be gained from starting anew with all these old pains washed away.

Your pinky twitched. Shoko smiled when she saw it but did not reach for you and you did not fight the heaviness in your limbs to try to move further.

She'd be there in the morning, you were sure of it, as sure as you were there would be more of these confounding nights where such thoughts swam about your head like fishes. There was time, now.

[sezja]

Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Takes place one year after Silenced.

"Stand still," Mother snaps, swatting Raicheille's shoulder as though she's an insect in need of a good squishing. "And stop slouching, girl! You've no figure yet to speak of; we must pin all of our hopes on your face. Gods help us."

I inherited it from you, you old sow, she doesn't dare say, straightening her shoulders even further, stretching her spine until it creaks. Her new dress clings in uncomfortable places, telling earnest but unconvincing lies about the shape of her beneath it. As though anyone would believe it. Her betrothed-to-be will be a fellow wildwood, of course, and everyone knows elezen don't begin properly growing until their twentieth year, give or take.

At fifteen summers, she feels like a dodo pretending to be a chocobo.

"You will be gracious," Father says. His voice is cold, stern, as though she's one of his hired lances. "You will speak only when it is required of you, or you will suffer the consequences of your disobedience."

She fights the urge to shudder.

There's every reason the new dress covers her from the neck down, hiding the bruises and welts she's earned over the past year.

Nourval wouldn't let them do this to me.

"Do not bite your lip," Mother snaps again, seizing Raicheille's chin between cruel fingers, not quite hard enough to bruise. "Do not sulk at your father, you ungrateful trollop; were it not for your interference, none of this would be necessary! Your uncle had it all well in hand!"

"Yes- yes, Mother."

Had it all well in hand is, Rai thinks, a very diplomatic way to describe the attempted murder of an officer of the Twin Adder, in an effort to frame visiting Ala Mhigan diplomats for the crime - it'd been her interference, yes, that'd alerted Captain Smyth to the plot. But she'd only ever wanted her brother to be freed from prison; beyond that, she hadn't really cared what became of it all. Not really.

She hasn't seen Nourval since. Her last memory of her brother is of him lying half-dead in the tall grass, and Captain Smyth sending her dashing off for a healer.

He's alive, at least. She knows that much. If her parents would let him see her...

But no. They'd told the Adders charming lies, pleading their ignorance, pleading their innocence, and so Raicheille was returned to the loving arms of her parents. If only someone had thought to ask her what her parents might have known... but who ever cared what one scrawny girl knew?

Captain Sanson cared, she thinks, idly, fighting the urge to rub her throbbing jaw while her parents aren't looking.

Today is her chance at redemption, her parents have told her, endlessly, for the past week. Marriage is a time-honored contract, sealing alliances between the families of Gridania's oldest families - those who long for the old ways, before Gridania opened her gates to outsiders; before Ala Mhigo brought war to her doorstep and pushed Gridania to the brink. Before Vainchelon's death. Rai has known all her life that she'd be handed over into the keeping of some tradition-minded man or other...

But that was before she knew the truth about it all.

Now she wants to run screaming into the Shroud, hopefully to be eaten by some wild beast - better that than being married off to some other hateful bastard who who only wants to rekindle old wars.

The one they've picked for her is nearly thrice her age: a grizzled veteran of the Old Guard, known to have a firm hand with his servants. The Matron knows he's likely to see her as little better than a servant; she expects she'll be lucky to see the sun more than once a moon - she'll be kept under lock and key, seen but not heard, her value proven only in the production of sons to bear arms-

I'd rather just get eaten.

"Come, girl," Father says, snapping his fingers like she's one of his hunting hounds. Mother places an ungentle hand on her back, guiding her forward like a prisoner who can't be trusted to follow obediently.

It's more apt than it ought to be.

[burningdeancookiefestival]

BDCF Tells All!!!!!! (Fic Recs)

Hello Tumblr...

I have never made a real post on here despite having secretly and silently scrolling for years now!!!!

Due to being a woman of the internet, starting on wattpad in 2015, I am a woman of many many fics. And now I find myself thinking... why not share my fatiguing, back-breaking years of research into a lovely little post so that those with like minded interests can strike gold early!! Manyyy fandoms have I been apart of in my time, I hope some resonate with you!!

Of course all credit to these lovely talented writers who are truly doing god's work

Also warnings, they basically all are smut... sorry not freaking sorry

Without further adieu-

___________________________________________________

BTS

Kim Taehyung

Crazy for you | kty

Bro my first ever BTS fic... she changed me...

☆summary:  you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse?

Jeon Jungkook

The Boy With Galaxies in His Eyes | jjk

☆summary: you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

Cool With You | jeon jungkook

summary: your break up from kim taehyung sent you spiraling into what felt like a midlife crisis of tear stained cheeks and tubs of half eaten ice cream with a broken heart. after finding out that your neighbor, jeon jungkook, was eavesdropping on your meltdowns and came to find out that your ex was his old friend, he found himself wanting to comfort you.

Number 7; m | jjk

My best friends brother is the one for me 😝

summary: pov: your jealous fuck buddy pounds you in his jersey. Hockey player jk.

Kim Namjoon

All aboard! (the passion express) | knj

This one quite literally got me kicking my feet and giggling.

Summary: There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

Christmas Vacation

Every year your family spends Christmas with the Kim family. Your parents have been friends since long before you were born...

all night | knj ft. myg

literally again, kicking feet & giggling

summary. in which listening to music during a smoke sesh with your best friends namjoon and yoongi in the studio turns into much more

Min Yoongi

Now We Reign | myg

Everything this account posts is absolute gold istg

☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

Wildest Moments

This is a series but gah daym.. pls trust me its worth it!!!

“Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart.” Mentions of cheating.

Carnal Desire

Feeling: freaky

The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know.

Park Jimin

I want to be with you | pjm

This had me GAGGED, seriously I trust this writer with my life

☆summary : moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

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Formula One

Sebastian Vettel

till the sun comes up | SV5

synopsis: fresh off of winning his first drivers championship whats a better way of celebrating [2.2k]

christening s.v.

This author... another one who actually can't ever go wrong

Don't Play Games With Me || Sebastian Vettel

Red bull Seb hehe 😚

005 - SV5

when I tell you I'm a changed woman...

summary: sebastian vettel insists you dress as a bond girl to attend his birthday party.

Carlos Sainz jr.

the love we left - Carlos Sainz jr.

summary: you weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being carlos sainz of all people. the very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore.

last friday night // carlos sainz jr

summary: after her best friend's bachelorette party, she wakes up in bed with a stranger and no memory of what she did the night before. carlos can't remember either, but he knows he wants to spend as much time with y/n as he can, so he offers to help her figure out what happened.

SUMMER NIGHTS || C.S. ||

part one and two!!!

Best Man - Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: You always thought being a bridesmaid for your best friend would be a dream come true but meeting her husband-to-be best friend proved that it would be harder to enjoy than you planned. You also didn’t plan for it to end with your dress around your hips as he fucked you in the bathroom whilst everyone tucked into the wedding cake, so much for hating one another. 

Mirror Mirror -- C.S.

in which your last resort attempts to gain carlos’ attention after a busy week in miami has him reminding you who you belong to.

Charles Leclerc

Old Habits -- C.L.

toooo good

in which you and charles fall back into old habits, but is it for better or worse?

Sex and Regret -- C.L.

The best Charles ficcy out there!!!! (in my humble opinion)

in which you and charles find yourselves in a never ending cycle of sex and regret since the end of your relationship, until you think you’ve moved on.

more than anyone ✴︎ cl16

You moved out of Monaco at fourteen with an unrepaired friendship hanging by a thread. Ten years and a whole lifetime later, you’re forced to work with him confront it all over again.

Repeat Offender

Summary : Charles is recently single and quickly finds himself in a "friends with benefits" situation with none other than his ex-girlfriend's best friend.

"You do not want me to show you what jealousy looks like"

Charles x best friend reader

Blurred lines ✴︎ cl16

Things with Charles finally come to a head. In a cramped room. In the Red Bull garage. Of all places, really.

Work 4 it. {two}

synopsis; you and charles work together in the office, by mutually hating each other you find out that there are bigger things than dislike.

--- What the heck

summary: the swearing game has come to an end, with a drinking game deciding the winner. the following weekend, a new drinking game is introduced, turning things steamy in no time. (Part 2 of all drivers hang out)

quiet - charles leclerc

summary: in which, you and charles spend some alone time together while away with the boys.

Max Verstappen

and they were roomates!!!

THE best Max fic out there and trust me ive looked!!

Our dirty little secret

summary: Five years ago you used to love Max but you had to say goodbye, will you be able to save what you could have been?

Daniel Ricciardo

Forbidden Fruit Never Tasted So Sweet

Summary: After not seeing you for nearly a month, a well timed visit back home has Daniel salivating to taste what was still all too forbidden to him.

Pity -- D.R.

in which you and daniel are reunited and forced to work together once again, leaving you with the aim to not end up in his bed like you did last time.

Makeup -- D.R.

in which picking up your stuff to say goodbye doesn’t go quite to plan

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MattTrey/ Baseketball

Matt Stone

late-night

summary: dropping by matt’s office while he works late results in some late-night fun :P

CIRCUMSTANCES matt x f! assistant reader

This is actually the best Matt Stone content you will ever find. The best. (Another series also)

summary: your friends leave you at a bar and you only have one number memorized

Dude...Dude... (feat. Trey)

based on the movie BASEketball where you play one of the cheerleaders and are having a bit of naughty fun with Trey and Matt off camera.

Doug Remer

why didn't i kiss you sooner? | Doug Remer

Smoking and drinking with Doug leads to more..

NEW EXPERIENCE

summary: remer convinces you to watch a specific type of movie with him

hazy

It's another smoking with Remer fic!!!

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Succession

Kendall Roy

fithly fucking rich--part one

Synopsis: You are out at an elite club in NYC and meet a handsome stranger. Smitten by each other, your flirting escalates and important details are left unsaid.

fithly fucking rich--part two

Summary: After meeting Kendall at an elite, NYC club, he takes you home for some fun, neither of you realizing how intertwined you are with his already tarnished family dynamic.

Roman Roy

like a leopards tongue in the mouth of a snake

power dynamics, he's ur boss blah blah blah

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Matty Healy (yes i went back there)

Drunk | Part 1 |

Another whole series which ate!

When you come back home to Manchester from University, you get invited to a house party filled with your old friends from high school. You hadn’t seen most of them for 4 years and the house brings back some old memories of the parties you once attended. Getting drunk with old friends ends up being better than you imagined.

Deal With It - Matty Healy

Plot: I had this idea where the reader is Matty’s plug and it seemed kinda cool so I’m running with it. Has a little bit of George Daniel. Also based on she way out but set around 2015/16 time.

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Timothée Chalamet

Paul Atreides

Little Cakes

Summary: You panic as your wedding date draws near and a trip to a famous sex planet doesn't help with these growing emotions. Thankfully, Paul is there to distract you.

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Pedro Pascal

Javi Gutierrez

hidden pleasures

Summary: You and Javi are hosting a dinner party and he wants to make things a little more interesting to get you both through the night

Javier Peña

You're my Best Friend Chapter 2

Summary:Javier and you had been best friends since Kindergarten, and you’d been secretly in love with him for years. The night before his wedding to Lorraine, you sleep together, sparking him to leave Lorraine, and you. Ten years later Javier returns home before leaving again for Cali and tries to fix the mess he left. But, passions run high and alcohol flows and you can’t resist falling back in to bed with him, the only thing you didn’t plan was ending up married to him.

Maxwell Lord

Working Late

Summary: Maxwell Lord has been working long, late hours this week. He’s lucky to have a partner that understands. He comes home late one night and can’t help himself from showing you his appreciation.

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Paul Dano

Klitz

Punctual

reader walks in on klitz jacking off? he’s really embarrassed and tries to hide it but the reader helps him out?

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Euphoria

Elliot

LESSONS (series)

summary — the reader is new to all things sexual, so her best friend elliot decides to help her out with that.

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Star Wars

Cassian Andor

The Sun on Both Sides

I've gone back here... many times. Very, very good.

Summary: Cassian Andor is your very close companion.  He says best friend, you say pain in your ass—neither one of you are entirely wrong.  But then one night you smoke some unfamiliar spice with him, and everything you once thought you knew goes sideways.

Poe Dameron

Mercy, Sabotage and Dead Space The Bet Series

This one had me tweaking

Din Djarin

The Rough Day Series

Okay.. this fic is literally what made me download tumblr so pls, im so fr, this is the best thing I've ever come across!!! Warning it is veryy long and sadly unfinished :(

they all hate you mando, because you're a legend

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5 Seconds of Summer

Calum Hood

2011 (C.H.)

summary: just a classic quickie before the ‘2011′ cover shoot 😇

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Daredevil

Matt Murdock

thank you; m.m.

summary; you convince matt that you deserve a reward after you succeed during a mission.

You're My Religion (part I)

Priest Matt... Confessional Booth..

[cablles]

river-runner

I very much prefer the train to air travel.

Planes are choked, compacted aluminum tubes full of everyone you've ever met from every stage in your life, and as children scream and teenagers witter and strange white women remove their stinking shoes on this grand infra-continental journey around you, you may grit your teeth and try very hard to do whatever it is you brought along outside of your checked baggage (book, gory movie, masturbation). It is Herculean.

And below the foil-wrapped sausage which comprises Delta Airlines Flight Whatever stretches everything that has ever been known to you or anyone else. Lakes and canyons and endless suburbian hivework overlap, beige-green countryside and a mountain, maybe, if you're lucky enough to live outside of the former prairied forest known as the American Midwest. And you don't care. It passes by and becomes rote after a few trips; maybe you were born into richness or circumstance which allowed you to see this God's view of land with wonderment as a child, but now it's claustrophobic business, tongue depressed by altitude and wallet emptied.

Contrast this with the other kind of living metal creature within which human beings make their way across our blasted landscape. There are few children here, and the ones that are are remarkably well-behaved and curious, in no small part due to their subconscious comprehension that to ride the rails is to a minor sin (like an uncovered yawn) as airlines are to beastiality. I love the people who ride this train with me, I really do.

The man across the aisle from me is balding, with just the barest impression of white hair to crown his scalp and slide, weary, down to the back of his neck. He wears black square horn-rimmed glasses and has stared with unequivocal longing at the brilliant orange of slow sunset for nearly an hour now, small chin in hand and lips pursed in wist. He listens to something on his old-model cell that still has a 3.5mm jack, with old-model white wired earbuds that have the little microphone in a squashed cylinder that drapes just down his chest to the clutched phone, the untaut string a physical connection to his own moment. I have no idea what he's listening to, but his commitment to mid-2000s rusticity implies any manner of things. I would be listening to Boards of Canada were I in his position, personally.

Telephone lines breach in pink twilight out the porthole. Two layers; I imagine one for power and the other for communication: The first passes in a period vaguely close to one third the rate the second, the draped cabling wake-waves as we chase the sun. They are alive in an immensely satisfying way that is completely unlike the unsynchronized clicking of your turn signal and the signal of the car's ahead of yours.

Mennonites shuffle down the aisle. You don't see them on planes, likely for the aforementioned reasons of sin. Train's fine, though. I cannot help but admire them for this and other reasons: Their children ask phenomenal questions (Do cars and trains work the same? Why do you like coffee so much?) and the adults among them are simultaneously the picture of humility and the most interesting sight in the room. I stepped from the bathroom, pulling from a disposable e-cigarette like it was oxygen, and the bonneted Mennonite woman I nearly ran into just gave me a half smile and a look of knowing. Are they allowed to smoke? Do they roll their own cigarettes in the cowboy way? How many of them have lost a fantastic chinstrap beard to self-immolation? One of them cracks a string of dry jokes ahead of me, careful not to step on laughter.

We crest the river out of outland suburbs and into desolation, Middle America. Subsidized wind turbines blink gigantic distant red in perfect time with each other, a hundred hundred eyes of Sauron over industrial soybean fields. I find myself missing the worn back roads of Nowhere, Missouri and the quaint farms which maintain the forest surrounding them. Only one line of conduit now, long and slow as fading day.

The woman in the seat next to me breathes with relative gravity and speaks with a slight soft rasp that implies cigarettes, once. Her cadence is slow and her Spanish is clear, but it has been too long since I studied the language (sorry, Mom) and I cannot understand her. She spoke on the phone for hours about nothing with her son until our train breached the black unlit countryside where towns are marked by distant flares of light pollution and cellular reception is fleeting. She is sweet, having saved a seat for me, and I cannot help but notice we have the same hairstyle — past shoulder length, curly, dark — though hers is highlighted platinum blonde meaning venerance. I bet she would have fantastic life advice for me if only the two of us could communicate.

[nukadisaster]

Gator-Fried Rice (Fallout 4 Fanfic)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandoms: Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas

Characters: Porter Gage, Male Nuka-World Overboss, Female Courier (Fallout: New Vegas)

Gage had been ornery since he woke up. They were jostled awake by the sound of a drill long before the sun had even bothered to rise. After nearly a year, they had gotten used to it. The Overboss was always working on something and when he was, it was before anybody willing to call themselves a Raider would’ve. 'Course, he'd never heard the boss call himself that, either. Teeth ran his hand across Gage's hair and tucked himself into the man's shoulder in the hope he would stay in bed and squeeze in a few more hours of rest.

But Gage was awake. They were up now, and he pulled on one of Gage's shirts and headed to the kitchen. Waste of time, he said, got more things to do around the park. Teeth nodded idly as he stood at the stove, pushing rice around a pan. It was easier to cook now since the new boss was in charge. Paprika, garlic, even rice was easy to get a hold of. His phuro would buy it by the sack from some people that traded with ghouls way out west. Rice stretched good, and the water that was left from washing it made janija thicken up enough to stick to your ribs. It was nice to be able to walk to the square and pick up what he needed. It made Teeth feel like he was in one of those old movies where all the men were shaved clean and the women's dresses swung around. Traders came and went without worrying about ending up with a collar around their neck. He didn’t see what the big deal was if the boss wanted to make life a little easier on the settlers. Especially since it made life easier on them, too.

Gage saw it differently. He was always being hot-headed, and he was like that long before he was a Raider, when Gage was kicking rocks around on his daddy’s farm. If someone else had something, he wanted it, even if he didn't know what to do with it. He was hot-headed, and jealous, and more than a little mean about not getting it. Ambitious was what the Overboss called it. It was the best word Teeth ever heard for it. He wanted to say give him a chance, rom, it won't hurt nothin' if other folks get somethin' too. But he didn't. There was no talking him out of his moods, so Teeth sprinkled a little more salt into the pan. Tell Mr. Overboss I made his favorite is what came out instead. He'd known the man too long to think he could be reasoned with. And he knew the Overboss long enough that he wasn't worried about what Gage had to say.

"I don't like the sound of it."

Gage's voice clamored against the worn tile. After fifteen minutes and a cup of coffee, his voice was a little less stern. 

"Well, here's the thing, Mr. Gage, you ain't got to hear about it. The decision has already been made."

He could see the Overboss from the kitchen, a boulder wearing a jumpsuit and a pair of glasses that rounded out a stubbled face. The man's shoulders pressed back against the couch, too tall for the cushion that was left. He was bigger than Colter and liked to pretend that he was half as smart.

"We can't get shit out of people if you're too scared to shake 'em down."

"They gotta have somethin' to take first, don't they?"

Teeth sat the plate down on a worn-out coffee table. The water stains were there when they got it. The cigarette burns weren't. 

"Thank ya, sweetheart. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem. Rice ain't hard if you've been cookin' it for years."

He placed another in front of Gage and sat down beside him on the couch. He'd been meaning to stitch up the loose seams but had never found the time.

"Looks good, sugar."

"I just think it's funny that–"

Gage was typically right. Even when he wasn't, Teeth wasn't prone to arguing. That's how they ended up here, able to eat meat that hadn't been salted and dried and how they could wash their faces in hot water. But he could be greedy, too, and that made him short-sighted.

"Teeth, ain't you hungry?" the Overboss interrupted. 

"He always eats when he's cookin'. Been that way since he was ten."

The Overboss laughed and the lines around his eyes crinkled. He nodded, the friendly way that he always did, and brought his chopsticks back up to his mouth. Teeth thought it was funny that he ate that way, but he was raised better than to ask about it. He didn't ask about where his metal arm came from, or how someone with a voice like his ended up in Boston.

"My wife was like that."

It was almost a whisper. The woman was a welcome ghost that followed him wherever he went. Teeth had found that were pieces of her to be found in every conversation. She had a lot of opinions on things: the way he folded his shirts and where he should keep his boots, the best way to get sugar stains off of white leather. Teeth felt like he had met her. He could almost hear the ring in her voice. 

"This is real good, you know," the Overboss said, "Gatorclaw ain't half bad."

"Hard to skin, though," Teeth answered, "like cuttin' through sheet metal."

The Overboss nodded and the light caught the copper pins he kept on his hat. They were hers, he knew, not because he had told him but because they matched the same amber waves in the worn-out picture he kept in the grip of his gun.

"I don't know what you're botherin' about that for," Gage said between bites, "how they get the food is their problem, not ours."

"If I sorted how I work into 'my problems and theirs' I woulda let Colter keep all y'all."

"Yeah, whatever."

Gage rolled his eyes, but if the Overboss saw he kept it to himself. He had always been patient, with Gage and every other Raider that came barreling through the front door. He wondered if he was always like that, or if he learned it from the lady in the picture.

"Are you gonna build more Handies or move 'em?" Teeth asked.

"To be honest with ya, I'd like to move ours. But the Parks is gettin' bigger and we're gonna need 'em soon– so I plan on makin' more."

"We ain't got time–"

"Mr. Gage, what do you suggest we do when the Pack gets hungry, huh? You wanna be the one that tells Mason he's keepin' Lent?"

"It ain't that bad. We ain't gonna–"

"Habibi, will you get me somethin' to drink? I forgot."

"Yeah– yeah, okay."

Every picture he had seen of her she was smiling. He had a whole book of them–  of their clean house and their old dog and his pressed white shirts. There wasn't another soul in those books, and in the back there were little scraps of paper with pictures of white dresses and plate sets. He had a feeling that there was something missing in that book, something they never had the opportunity to photograph.

"How many Handies are you gonna make?" Teeth asked.

"Oh–  right now I don't know for sure. One to test the soil, surely, and it wouldn't hurt for them to have another one to look after those kids runnin' round. Mrs. Johnson's livin' with the Abernathy's–  she's liable to pop any day now."

The Overboss liked kids. He'd see them and his face would light up like a bottle rocket. But he never talked about any of his own. Gage figured that something was wrong with one of them. Teeth thought that maybe they weren't married long enough to try. 

"Got you a Grape while I was up, boss."

The man took it from the Raider with a smile. It was brighter, shinier than the one he had with him only moments ago. He wore it like a mirror to distract anybody who bothered to see it. The real smile was the slight turn of his lips when he said her name. Everything else was just a costume.

"That's awful kind of you, Mr. Gage."

Gage groaned and tossed a hand idly on Teeth's thigh after he handed him his coffee.

"About them, robots, boss."

"Yessir?"

Gage rubbed his forehead. He still wasn’t used to that. The Overboss always sounded like he just heard a joke. There was a lilt that hung off the ends of words that made it easy for the next to fall into place. It took the edge off of things.

"Why are ya wastin' all your damn time on those bolt buckets when we could be gettin' ourselves more land?"

"This here rice is awful good, Teeth."

He had missed the stuff. It was easy enough to get in New California, where the days were hot and the dam was high. He hadn't had it since he came to Boston until the Overboss emptied out the pond and made it a rice field. Gage thought paying all that money for a bag of seeds was stupid. But he missed rice and beans, too, because it reminded him of home. They could grow it right there in the parks where the old pond was. Gage stopped having an opinion on it after that.

"The tatos were good, too. I had to can 'em, we had so many."

"Won't catch me complainin' about too much food, that's for sure."

Gage looked back at Teeth and took the second cup of coffee for himself. He wadn't gonna drink it.

"Wish we would've ended up someplace with somethin' else to drink but soda."

[boop-le-snoot]

BUTT-DIAL? NO, BOOTY CALL | tony stark

explicit, 5,4k words. wrong number text, family shame & wedding drama that isn't even his and a ruined first date. despite the implications of the situation, both reader and tony are very entertained. meet-ugly series, part three.

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

💚 masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq 💚

Another sunny day spent wasted in a conference room full of boring, old, conceited chairmen. Tony Stark vehemently refused to commiserate with them, their boring speeches and blunt, straightforward thinking. Sitting through a meeting was like walking on nails barefoot: painful, pointless. Mind-numbing.

His phone beeped loudly and he reached into his pocket, pretending to not see Pepper's disapproving look. Both of them knew he was hoping for a sudden Assemble call - that would surely get him out of the meeting - but as much as he hoped, they never struck at the right time.

Except, this time it wasn't a call for assistance, and neither it was an automated spam message with Pizza Hut promo codes. Tony's eyebrows drew close and his lips upturned as he read and re-read the obvious rant written on his screen, typing up his answer before he managed to resist the morbid curiosity that was fueled by his boredom.

Whoever it was, they were justifiably angry and the whole situation was almost too comical to be true, except he'd known people exactly like the runaway bride, selfish, greedy and stupid. He totally understood the woman's desire to just go and load up on tequila shots somewhere - so he bid her a haste farewell, all the while snickering to himself.

"It's Rogers," Tony offered in the way of explanation to a glaring Pepper, locking his phone away and settling in to continue pretending he was listening as another old, crusty white man offered his input on topics he was too much of a dinosaur to even really know about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the incident over the days, the story making him snort more times than he could count as the memory randomly crossed his mind in the lab, at the coffee pot or during dinner. So when a message came through from that very same number, the smirk snuck up onto his face before he even read its contents.

A brief crash course in memes from Parker had turned out to be more useful than ever. Irritating Rogers with pictures got old very fast, however, in moments Tony got rendered speechless they proved to be the perfect substitute for trying to articulate all his thoughts on the matter.

Celebrity appearance, she said? More likely than one would think. The engineer had nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter when she'd texted him that; obviously, the woman had no clue who she was texting with and he decided to further indulge in his curiosity by asking for her name: Friday did the rest.

A phone number and a name, ten minutes, and all her social media were free for him to stalk. Investigate- uh, observe. With little effort, Tony found both her and her brother, the unlucky groom, and the runaway bride and even her step-dad. On paper, they all looked like average middle-class families. Nothing seemed amiss.

It didn't mean anything, but Tony caught himself thinking about the woman. Perhaps it might have been the mischievous gleem in her eyes that was easily spotted in every picture or perhaps the raunchy sense of humour not much different from his own. Pretty, witty and smart - what's there not to like?

"So that's why you've been going around, smiling like a middle-schooler with a crush," Natasha's voice whisper-shouted in Tony's ear as the spy discreetly peered over his shoulder into his phone. He had the chat pulled up, debating on starting a casual conversation-

"Jesus Christ, Romanoff, somebody needs to put a bell on you," Tony snapped, startled, pressing the button to lock his phone immediately.

"Uhuh," The redhead replied, side-eyeing a snickering Barnes. "Who is she?"

Tony rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a blush starting to creep in. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and the rest of the team acting like children wasn't helping the matter. "I got a butt-dial text about some wedding drama. Some chick's brother's fiance was fucking her own stepdad and ditched the wedding for her old man."

Stunned silence settled briefly into the room as Romanoff's eyes widened and Barnes choked on his orange juice. Serves him right, Tony thought, and continued his coffee-making process in quiet irritation.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Wilson half-laughed half-yelled. "You gotta spill the tea, man, this sounds too good to be true. Stories like that just don't fall into your hands."

With a sigh, he recounted the woman's story and read the texts aloud, silencing his snickering enough to be able to keep a straight face - but not for long, Rogers decided it was the time for another one of his Captain America Is Disappointed In You speeches and Tony himself couldn't even disagree.

Now that he thought about it, he came off as a kind of asshole. She and her family was going through something traumatic and he went and treated it like free entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was, but she didn't deserve to be treated like a circus clown. She actually seemed like a good sister and friend.

"Just text her," Natasha rolled her eyes at him, grabbing the coffee pot out of his frozen hand. "You're not Steve, you can keep a decent conversation via text."

Being compared to Steve and his pre-historic messaging habits really did a number on Tony's ego; the eyeroll he gave Romanoff was truly out of this world, all but teleporting him to his lab where he tried to find a way to approach the woman without coming off as incredibly creepy, as if the fact that he'd stalked her on social media didn't already put him firmly into the weirdo category.

Most likely, Tony would have spent many many days on overthinking before just grabbing one of his suits to make a truly impressive landing on her small balcony downtown; thankfully, fate had intervened and saved him from making another epic mistake. He'd made a note to ask Thor about it sometime, settling down with his tablet and popcorn bowl to watch TV on the team's movie night.

Or, more precisely, Tony settled in to watch the drama unfold as the various members of the team fought tooth and nail for the film that they wanted to watch. He never cared about it much, dozing off halfway through most of them - his teammates had the worst taste in movies - so he didn't bother joining the scuffle except when it was Peter's turn to pick. For obvious reasons.

"If you can't decide I'm gonna have someone else pick a movie," Natasha rolled her eyes, equally fed up with fully grown adults acting like spoiled toddlers.

With a stutter of his breath, Tony's hand reached for his phone as he had an Idea.

Seconds tickled as the "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times. She must think he's just a thirsty frat boy; Tony's brow furrowed, but the curiosity was far too strong in him. Something about her vibe, her feisty nature captivated him and kept him thinking about her.

The agreement came as a surprise. In the two minutes the woman had spent thinking up her answer, Tony prepared himself to be rebuffed gently, or, worst case, be called a creep. But no - she agreed, but not before vehemently insisting that if he would end up being a creepy serial killer, she would haunt his ass for the remainder of his life.

Friday couldn't come soon enough. Tony spent most of the day loitering between his lab and the penthouse, glancing at his phone every now and then to make sure she wouldn't cancel on him last minute. The engineer wanted to see the witty, no-filter-having woman in the flesh.

And see her, he did. He'd pulled up in front of the hole-in-the wall Ramen&Bar place Clint had been raving about weeks prior - contrary to popular belief, Tony was perfectly fine with going to places that didn't have Michelin stars - and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, eyes immediately taking note of the figure calmly walking down the street, head tilted down where she was typing up a reply to him.

Tony smirked as she lifted her face up to see him, mouth immediately falling open. The shock was obvious; it lasted mere seconds until her shoulders dropped and she sighed almost... In disappointment. He frowned.

"I jinxed it, didn't I? Here's my celebrity appearance," The laugh was a little nervous and quite sardonic. "Hi, Tony, nice to finally see you."

He smiled, unsure, quipping back easily. "Let's face it, I'm not the worst famous Tony out there." Opening the door of the building for the woman, she stepped in eagerly enough, eyes immediately falling on the bartender and the few dimly lit tables in the back.

"Not by any means," She turned towards him, walking backwards. Tony met her stare; it was just like he'd imagined it to be, curious, mischievous and a little daring. She didn't even attempt to play subtle, raking over him from head to toe. "Not at all, I think," She gave another teasing smile, finally turning around, addressing the bartender and rattling off her order without as much as looking at the menu.

Tony couldn't stop staring. He was aware it was creepy, she was aware of his clever brown eyes barely paying attention to their surroundings or the beer or the food. The woman just quirked an eyebrow every time she caught him. His curiosity couldn't wait any more. "Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, cursing himself out almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"My almost-sister-in-law was fucking her own stepdad," The woman deadpanned. "I ran out of fucks to give, sorry." She thoughtfully chewed her food, briefly looking to the side. "Not to sound like an asshole, but don't you have enough people fawning over you? Doesn't it get old?"

Tony nodded, choosing to stay silent on the matter besides offering an amicable, "That's valid."

The mischief lit up again in her eyes. "You look taller on TV," She snorted, immediately falling into a fit of laughter at his face full of outrage. He sputtered, muttering something about audacity of some people, which made her only laugh harder. "Here's a pro tip from my 4'11 bestie: when someone calls you short, you snarl at them and say you're fun-sized. She swears by it," The woman remarked conversationally, grinning a two hundred watt smile.

Tony was glad at least someone was enjoying their little... Date. "And you know all about fun, don't you?" He aimed for grumpy; it came out as teasing. His famous smirk made a return appearance as he watched her throat bob.

The atmosphere between them had changed at some point; the same old routine of teasing and dancing around each other, but this time, Tony all but purred in satisfaction, finally meeting someone who was an even match to his wit and charm.

"I do," She replied with that cocky confidence, her devil eyes lighting up, lingering on his face. "Got a problem with that?"

The plate was pushed away, napkin falling into the food carelessly as he gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "As a scientist, I cannot confirm whether a theory is true until I have direct evidence," The bullshit flowed easily from his mouth, but the woman appeared to be amused by it - for a change. "M'fraid I'm gonna need that evidence," His fingers drummed on the table, impatiently, inches away from her hand.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Her voice dropped, she was fully aware of what she was doing by calling him that. That, and those deep, magnetic eyes made Tony's trousers feel a little too tight for comfort.

His phone rang loudly, dissipating the atmosphere they had created with a shrill noise. Captain Cockblock struck again.

Fumbling fingers, Tony tapped the green icon, shooting an apologetic look to the woman. "Rogers, there better be another alien invasion or I'm revoking your phone privileges," The woman chortled, taking a sip of her beer, trying hard not to seem like she was listening in and failing spectacularly at it. "Today, out of all days? Can't Strange fill in for me?" The engineer palmed his face, running a hand through his neatly done-up hair. It would be covered in soot and sweat in an hour anyways. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Romanoff better be hauling Barton's lazy ass out of Bed-Stuy." With a frown, Tony poked the red icon and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, looking for all and all, like an angry adolescent.

The woman, however, didn't indicate any signs of displeasure. Her hand timidly reached out for his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Go, save the world, Mr. Stark," Her smile was sympathetic. They both stood up at the same time, Tony watching her incredulously as the woman untied a scrap of red fabric from around her neck and placed it around his wrist, tying the fabric with a loose but, frankly, pretty knot. "I like that bandanna, would be a shame if you didn't return it," She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Tony snorted, fondly rolling his eyes, before beelining for the door, activating his Iron Man suit on the way out. Turning around before take off, he noticed her throw a couple of crumpled bills to the server who was too busy ogling him.

He forgot to pay for dinner, Tony realized as he made his way to the other part of the city. Well, fuck, he would definitely have to see her again.

---

An alien invasion during her first good date in ages - scribble, scribble, sigh. She couldn't do much more than that - just as she thought her string of bad luck had ended, the world turned around and flipped her a juicy bird, all but laughing straight in her face. Like that already wasn't enough, oh no, she groused as she spied the debris and random abandoned cars on her way home - it looked like some portion of the battle had been close to her home and only the sheer mental exhaustion that resulted from her life being turned upside down during the last month prevented her from having a full-on freak-out in the middle of the eerily quiet street.

Truly, the fucks she had to give had been expired.

The gloomy mood was interrupted by a cry - for help or of outrage, she didn't know, but the kindness in her, the very values she'd been raised with didn't allow her just to walk by, and with another resigned sigh, she tucked the nice blouse she'd put on for the date under her warm sweater and set off in the direction of the sound, finding the culprit in little under a couple of minutes.

Freeing the trapped civilian wasn't easy but, thankfully, neither it required super-strength or any kind of heavy machinery. The man thanked her and with him in tow, both of them set off to inspect nearby nooks and crannies. Logic won that day - if there's was one person, there could be more.

Hours later, sweaty, sore and bruised, the woman greedily chugged the water bottle someone had passed onto her as the amount of medics and firefighters had finally reached the threshold of when her help wasn't needed anymore. While her date and his colleagues fought whatever nasty that thought NYC was a sandbox battleground for their amusement, the woman found herself helping out with retrieval & evacuation of the civilians that didn't make it out of the neighborhood before the heat of the fight reached it. There were no deaths registered as of then and deep inside, she felt proud, knowing that she had contributed to the statistic at least a little.

Her phone was dying, her body was covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe and the bruises were beginning to ache. Tony's worry-worting was cute but the tiredness overcame her, making her brain sluggish and her demeanor short, so she hastily pocketed the phone, trailing over to the closest man in uniform she could spot.

"Sir?" She addressed him, eyeing the unfamiliar logo on his jacket. "Can I go, please?" She pointed to the yellow tape surrounding the makeshift medical station.

"I'm going to have to see your ID first," He replied apologetically, tapping away on his tablet.

With a sigh, she dug through her purse, giving it to him and using the brief moment of respite to smooth back her hair and dust off her clothing. There was a cloud of concrete and dirt surrounding her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Mr. Stark left strict instructions for you to be picked up by him personally," The agent gave the ID back with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Oh c'mon," The annoyed whine escaped her lips before she registered it. "It was our first date," She offered to the puzzled agent, only succeeding in making him lean back and inspect her with a raised eyebrow. "Bye," She replied none too kindly, walking off to find a place to sit down.

The time passed in a strange way. The aches and pains and exhaustion made it stop, and if someone would have asked her, she wouldn't know how much of it has passed until her eyes reluctantly cracked open at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to see a pair of expensive shoes covered in dust. At least she wasn't the only one that looked like she'd taken a roll through someone's gritty attic.

"Morning, you Tasmanian Devil," Tony sounded jovial, all things considered.

"Hello to you too, Tin Can," The woman greeted him on par, without missing a beat.

"Now, now," He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully, before pulling her to her feet. "I come with peace offerings. Your building is under quarantine and I've got a perfectly good bed and a shower with thirty settings on it at my place. Whatcha say?"

She only pretended to think about it. Her reply was haste. "I don't make a habit of going into strange dudes' towers but I'll make an exception this once." A shower and a bed sounded heavenly.

Finally getting the chance to look at him, Tony appeared to be unhurt but equally exhausted and dirty. A few scrapes on his face and arms, he was missing his blazer, and had a weary tone to his face. Some parts of his Iron Suit were still on him - like the chest plate - but besides that, he was whole. The red of the bandanna she gave him was equally dirty but still neatly tied around his wrist, just like she left it.

"How's your relationship with heights?" He asked her and all she could do was blink, watching curiously as his body was enveloped by the red and gold, crawling over his skin like a swarm of shiny termites. That was all the warning she got before the metal arms - quite literally - sweeped her off her feet. "Faster this way," She could hear the nonchalant shrug in the metallic voice coming from the helmet. "Now hold on."

Awe and fear culminated inside the woman but the weariness had long since surpassed comfortable levels and all she did was give a weak nod and close her eyes as Tony lifted off, gusts of wind making her skin break out in goosebumps and her hair stand up wildly on her head. During the short trip her eyes fluttered open only once just to close back up immediately - all she saw were clouds, white and fluffy, like marshmallows, and the shining beacons of NYC skyscrapers somewhere far away.

The paralyzing anxiety fully dissipated only when her feet found purchase on the tiled floors, Tony's arms never ceasing to support her swaying frame until the breaths she took were her own and not the result of her fluttering heart and muted panic. "You with me, Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, Weird Science," She mumbled. "Thanks for the heads up," The annoyance had to find a way out and that it did.

"You're welcome," The cocky smirk returned to Tony's face as his suit receded, leaving him barefoot, dirty jeans and a torn tee. He stretched with a sweet groan, gesturing towards the door. "Friday will direct you towards the showers. Feel free to grab a t-shirt from the closet."

The woman nodded, too awestruck by the man and his hospitality, eyes darting all over the tastefully decorated room, the expensive knick-knacks scattered everywhere, the absolutely enormous sloppily made bed. Tony Stark liked to live luxuriously - even the shower was a state of the art technological wonder.

Dirty pants and dusty blouse went flying somewhere in the back of the bathroom as the woman stood up on her tippy toes, reaching for the sky, stretching her sore muscles. The glass wall of the shower had began to fog up from the hot water. The knock went barely noticed by the woman who jumped as Tony's voice startled her out of her daydream.

"Forgot I ran out of towels here..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he spotted her only in her underwear. She turned, responding with a lopsided grin, spying the stack of fluffy grey in his arms, the arc reactor in the middle of his bare chest. He smirked, "Damn. Can I join you?" Giving her what only could be described as a respectful once-over.

Tired as she was, her sense of humour and wit didn't go down for a much needed nap just yet. "I don't know, you tell me. Can you?" Turning back around, the woman made a short show of unclasping her bra and tossing it in the general vicinity of her dirty clothing pile. She'd worn a cute matching set of undies that day and the fact didn't go over Tony's head, she was sure.

The door clicked shut just as she raised her face to the stream of water, feeling calmer with each second, muscles relaxing themselves as the hot stream washed away the dirt and the dust off her body.

"And I thought this evening was ruined," Tony's voice insinuated from behind her. A hand reached for the soap, his body heat scorching compared to the steaming water. He stayed just a few inches away, enough to feel him, enough for her body to respond and crave more. "It's nice to be wrong for a change. Refreshing."

The woman hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through her wet, knotted hair. "First decent evening in ages. I wasn't gonna let some uninvited Predator knock-offs ruin it for me," She was more than a little peeved at the space invaders interrupting her nice date. Tony was a great conversationalist, it was easy to talk to him and he had a brilliant sense of humour. Not to mention the obvious, he was easy on the eyes.

"That's the spirit," The voice was closer now, almost in her ear. Even though her eyes were closed, the woman was aware he was reaching for something, letting him butt her hands out of the way to lather her hair, scrubbing at her scalp meticulously, until the sounds that left her mouth bordered on embarrassing. Once that was done, Tony moved onto her body, running his hands over her back, the outside of her hips. "M'not stepping over, am I?" He asked quietly, touch faltering every time he brushed over a scrape or a bruise.

"No, you're doing great, Tony," It wasn't exactly conventional - sharing a very intimate shower after an interrupted first date, but then again, nothing about this man was conventional and her life had already been turned upside down no less than twice recently. The woman didn't lie, the gentle, caring touch felt soothing.

Arching her back, she lifted her arms to repay him with the same, raking her fingers through his hair, leaning into the shudder that ran throughout his body. It was nice to bask in whatever they had going on, so the motion to face him was almost reluctant. Water droplets stuck to his eyelashes and his eyes were tired but not in a way that suggested he'd kick her out first chance.

Their kiss was sweet, slow, like they already were familiar with each other in a special way. The woman tugged on his lip with her teeth - such was her character - and he pressed closer to her, raising a hand to hold the side of her face. In muted curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder if there ever had been someone that waited for him once his battles were over.

Tony's eyelashes, the very same that had no business being this long on a man, fluttered against her cheek as they stood under the shower, letting water wash away the day.

"I've always wanted to kiss in the rain, like they do in the movies. This is the closest I've gotten," She whispered, gently kneading the arch of his shoulders. "Feels better than it looks, to be honest."

Tony snorted, reaching for the knob to turn it off. "Cheesy," He teased her, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Both people made quick work of drying themselves, exiting the fogged up bathroom, making way into the bedroom, padding soft on the carpet and falling down on the bed carelessly.

"I'm the queen of cheesy one-liners," The woman raised her eyebrows, scooting under the sheets next to Tony who opened his arms wide, a smirk on his face. She didn't give him the chance to reply, slotting her lips over his instead and groaning as their heated bodies once again rested against each other.

She ran her hands over Tony's defined pecs, glossing over the arc reactor, raked nails over his tummy, eating up the sighs leaving his mouth at the gesture. He was a beautiful man, she wasn't going to lie to herself. The warmth that settled low in her belly grew, spreading throughout her limbs and temporarily overshadowing the exhaustion.

The engineer, too, was quite excited - his erection poked her hip - and content to be steered to her wishes by the hand in his hair. Groans and sighs left his moist, parted lips as his eagerness bled into his hands, grip firm and steady on the panting woman's hips.

Adrenaline did something to her body, caused it to ache sweetly, a hunger to be satisfied only by a lover's touch. And touch she did; her mouth tasted him, alternating sucking gentle marks onto his throat and nibbling on the skin stretched thinly over his collarbones. Tony's sighs grew in depth and volume with every silent action of worship.

No inch of his body was left untouched, the woman was an all-hands-on-deck kind of lover, happily making her way down until soft lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, making his hips arch into it, hands fisted in the soft white sheets. "You devil," Tony gasped out, limbs turning to jelly, watching the woman all but devour his cock.

She popped off minutely, a trail of sticky saliva running down her chin, sticking to his glistening cock. "The power of Christ compels me?" With a smirk, her tongue trailed from his balls to the very tip, paying extra attention to the frenulum, making Tony shudder and gasp out an embarrassed laugh.

"Uh-uh," Stripped of his usual snark, he was but a man at her mercy.

"It's not very compelling," The predatory stretch of her lips widened as she took mercy on him, giving his cock a few slow tugs with her hand. Her mouth, her hand and his cock were dripping. "Gonna let me do all the legwork, Mr. Stark?" She sat up straighter, inadvertently drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs where the woman's sex glistened in the dim light, lips swollen and inviting.

It sounded like she was mocking him, teasing him, egging him into a lustful frenzy none of them had the energy for but craved anyway. Tony Stark wasn't the one to back down from a fair challenge so he relented, flipping them over with ease, landing between her spread legs, eyes drawn to the momentary bounce of her breasts. Tony wasted no time in suckling a hard nipple into his mouth, humming in response to her choked-off moan of surprise.

"Tony," Her body arched into his touch, tender skin hot under the callouses on his fingertips.

"Yes, demon, dear?" A lopsided grin and laughter in his eyes preceded the wet stripe Tony licked down to her navel. "Wasn't there something about not telling demons your name? Guess you have power over me now," He trailed off cheekily, soft breaths puffing over her mound.

The woman bit her lip, peering down to rake a hand through Tony's hair, snagging a fistful to gently steer him towards her pussy. Tony's smile was one of satisfaction as he obediently followed her silent order, nosing along the line of her cunt, dipping his tongue to run slow, sloppy lines through the soaked folds.

"Fuck," She mumbled, spreading her legs without shame. "Yeah, right there," Her fingers turned white at the agility of Tony's tongue on her clit. He was swift and relentless in pursuit of the spots that made her moan and clench around nothing. The moisture of her sex soaked his goatee but he couldn't care less.

He growled when she attempted to withdraw, wrapping his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her still for his pleasure, wringing noises that increased in volume with every stroke of his tongue on her sex.

"Tony- please, Tony, I'm gonna-" The warning was brief; her back arched as a broken moan found its way past her moist, parted lips, her pussy spasmed, dripping all over his face and the sheets.

The engineer hid his smile against her thigh, discreetly wiping the obscene amounts of moisture she produced. It wasn't very long until her hands, slightly shaky, were tugging him upwards to meet his face in a rushed, graceless kiss. There was an equal lack of finesse in the glide of his erection along her sex.

"Okay?" He mumbled into her ear, lining himself up with her fluttering cunt.

"Please," She gasped, her hands pushing his hips onto her, eagerly lifting up to accept the sweet intrusion.

There was a quiet stutter in both of their breathing, hearts thudding against their ribs as he finally bottomed out, the thickness of him nestled snugly inside the rippling muscle. The pace he started out was agonizingly slow and inexplicably sweet, neither of them wanting to end their coupling prematurely but not being able to hold back the need that consumed them both.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Tony's mumbling was overshadowed by the slick sounds coming from the place they were joined. "Gonna fill up this pretty pussy."

The woman keened at the idea, digging her nails into his ass, pulling him further into her.

"You'd like that?" He picked up the pace, blunt tip of his cock catching up with the tail end of her previous orgasm and re-lighting the fire in her belly anew.

"Yeah, Tony, please," No trace of the previous coyness in her voice, the woman was more than ready to beg, murder and steal to feel the man come undone in her arms.

It didn't take long, not with the adrenaline making their blood sing and the chemistry they shared. The brutal pace of Tony's hips quickly grew sloppy and erratic, the tightening of her inner muscles egging him on. He chased his release with deep, powerful thrusts that had the bedsheets rustle pitifully and beads of clear swear drip down his forehead.

As soon as her body arched once more, Tony let go of his control, slotting himself deeply into her spasming heat, cock throbbing as he painted her insides white with his seed, groaning incomprehensible compliments and profanities through his teeth. Chest heaving, the engineer couldn't do much more but let himself carefully fall onto her chest, aftershocks making him twitch when the woman began running a gentle hand through his hair.

"We're doing this again," He decided, still breathless but already a step ahead. She laughed.

Tony Stark taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @downeyreads @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @slothspaghettiwrites @bluecrazedandbeautiful

[cherry-gemz]

Only You: Ransom Drysdale x You

Summary: You and Ransom are an unlikely pair: different social classes, different personalities. But you find yourself together, but after an eventful evening, will it last?

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+, mention of smut, slight dom!/sub!, tw violence, anger, roleplaying

A/N: My entry for @the-ce-horniest-book-club drabbles. This is meant to be silly roleplay. Just what the reader and Ransom do to spicy things up. I do not condone violence or any aggressive behavior. Everyone has consent. Under 18 DNI, pls.

Prompt: "I can't believe you're ending it over something so ridiculous!"

"I can't believe you're ending it over something so ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous. I saw it with my own eyes."

"You're crazy!"

"You better believe it, doll, but I'm not stupid. I know when two people have slept together."

"Ran, you need to get your eyes checked!" You spat and threw your drink at his face. The rest of the restaurant viewed the lover's spat and couldn't look away.

He wiped the drink from his face and shook the excess off from his hand. A devilish smirk appeared and then his face remained still.

Maybe I went too far, you thought. He's going to kill me.

***

Ransom Drysdale. His name was well known in the tri-state area: prolific playboy, a different woman on his arm every week. The only child of Richard Drysdale and Linda Thrombey, and grandson of Harlan Thrombey, a successful writer and mystery novelist extraordinaire. His arrogance and charisma originally turned you off though.

As the New England Club tennis instructor, you found yourself loathing the bratty socialite at first. His extreme good looks and physique were of course delicious to look at, but when he started up lessons with you, you nearly quit. He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch. Never much for small talk on the court.

The Thrombey's in general were self pretentious jerks; leeching off the renowned writer that started his publishing company from the ground up. Not quite old money, but definitely not new. No, the Thromby's were definitely fat cats when talking of wealth and status, but underneath all the designer clothing and flashy cars were hypocritical jerks and wankers. They weren't the self made millionaires as they proclaimed. No, Daddy Thrombey had every part in their success. Without his help, they'd be a fisherman's family.

But Ransom, oh Ransom. You were abhorrently disgusted at how he talked to the staff at the club. Shouting at the waiters when they got his whiskey or scotch order incorrect. Tossing plates at the hostess when his steak wasn't prepared to his likening. Even the pro shop boys were afraid of him that one time he went all Mcintyre on his newly strung racket.

But with you he was different. No, with you he was charming, polite...sweet even. Which made you weary even more of his intentions. He hadn't half bad at the game either, you thoroughly enjoyed playing a match with him. He took a lot of his aggression and stress out on the court and it was fun being competitive.

Eventually he asked you out for a drink, after two times of declining you accepted...mainly because you were curious of how a lazy, spoiled, man-child that was pushing early thirties, could still be so damn attractive.

So that date became two...those two dates became a month. And before you knew it, you were together six months and shocked that he was still entertained. The girls at the front desk were always flirting with him, but ever since you two were dating, he only had eyes for you.

And you for him. Until one night at a local restaurant, where while you waited for him to arrive, you sat at the bar nursing your dry martini. The man that Ransom accused you of sleeping with was attractive. A bit older than what you'd dated in the past, but attractive nonetheless.

"Here alone?" His voice was like butter as he pulled the stool next to you. You crossed your legs and flashed a thigh, your elongated stems were velvety and smooth from a wax appointment earlier that morning. You bit into the green olive and pulled it slowly off the wooden pick, your lips pursed and enticing, stained with a bordeaux wine color.

"Not exactly," you purred as you looked him up and down. His trim physique and armani suit was to be impressed by.

"Well, if you were my date I would never leave your side," he replied as he motioned to the bartender.

You leaned over the bar, pushing your chest up, giving ample viewing.

"Is that right?"

"Indeed. Why, I would kiss the ground you walk on, you're Aphrodite in the flesh."

You smile and giggle at the attention you receive. Unaware that Ransom had arrived and was watching the two of you from afar. The man slinked his hand on your thigh and you startle.

"I have a hotel room not too far from here, what do you say?"

You chest began to burn at the touch of his rough hands. Hands you were not used to. Why, the ones that would caress you down were soft, strong, and lean. Ones that never worked a day in their life.

You grab his hand and twist his wrist and unrelent. Gritting a smile through your teeth, you whisper in the intruder's ear.

"I say, if you lay another finger on me, you'll be peeing through a catheter for a week."

The man whimpered as you released your grip. Ransom barged between you two and decked him square in the jaw.

"You asshole!" He shouted as some patrons screamed. "Don't touch her."

Your intruder fell flat to the ground and everyone stared.

"C'mon, Y/N," Ransom's voice bellowed.

"I'm not done with my drink," you jest.

"I'll buy you a million more elsewhere, let's go."

The man got up slowly and rubbed his jaw, he started to yell obscenities, but security arrived and whisks him away.

"Did you know that guy?" He demanded. His east coast accent always came out thicker when he raised his voice.

You cooly take a sip of your drink, "What? Of course not."

"Yous looked like you did."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I'm not here for like five seconds and you already have a guy drooling over you. You let him touch you, Y/N!"

"I didn't let him do anything," you pull your compact out of your clutch and fix the crease of your eyelid makeup and brush it with your finger. You snap your compact shut and you can feel Ransom's temper build. His blood boiling, the nerve of that man. Touching you. Thinking that he could satisfy you. It got you hot that Ransom was jealous.

"Well what did you say to him? I saw you whisper in his ear!"

"I just warned him to not touch me again. I can handle myself Ran."

"You've been sleeping with him."

"That's rich, Ransom."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

You look at him dead straight in the eye, "You're wrong." His chest puffed, his cheeks red. He was showing a different side of him.

"Ransom doesn't like to share," you smirk and he slips his hand behind the small of your back.

"I won't ask again, Y/N. Let's go."

You sit up from the stool, "That was you asking?"

"You know what, Y/N…"

"What?"

"We're over."

Your heart drops to your stomach and you want to puke. We're over? Why? Because of some dumb misunderstanding? Is he serious?

"I can't believe you're ending it over something so ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous. I saw it with my own eyes."

"You're crazy!"

"You better believe it, doll, but I'm not stupid. I know when two people have slept together."

"Ran, you need to get your eyes checked!" You spat and threw your drink at his face. The rest of the restaurant viewed the lover's spat and couldn't look away.

He wiped the drink from his face and shook the excess off from his hand. You storm out of the restaurant with him quickly behind you. Your heels pound on the cement as you turn the corner around the dark building. The sound of the harbor waves and the rocking of the boats can be heard from a distance.

"Y/N."

You continue to stride along the brick wall, the moon shone above the inked sky.

"Y/N!" He repeated as he grasped you by the hips. You peered into his blue eyes and searched for answers. He stared intently into yours and didn't say anything. Within seconds, he smashed his lips onto yours, smearing the once perfectly colored lips. His hands cupped your face with a strong hold and you grabbed his dress shirt collar and pressed your body into his.

His hands roam up and down your silhouette, then they find themselves on your globes and he clutches your ass.

He grunts through the kiss as you sigh seductively. He peppers his kisses down your cheek to your neck and sucks on your chest, leaving a mark.

"Ran…" you say breathlessly as his left hand trails up your thigh.

"You are mine…" he coos as you nod.

"Yes, baby…"

"He had no right to touch you."

"No, it was bad. You taught him a lesson."

"You've been bad, it's your turn for a lesson," he whispers in your ear as he inserts his tongue and runs it along your lobe. Chills rub up and down your body and you build a pool between your legs.

"So bad…" you tease.

"Y/N…" he says as you grasp his excitement through his trousers.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what baby?" He asks as he slips a digit beneath your panties.

"That we're over," you squeak as you close your eyes and he continues to pleasure you.

"Yes…" he ramps up his ministrations and you grab his wrist, unhappy with his answer. He smiles devilishly.

"Ransom!"

He stops, but doesn't leave his hand from your folds. He looks earnestly in your eyes, even though the unlit side of the restaurant, you can tell he's exposed and being real.

"In ways that I'm done hiding, baby. No more. I want you to be my girl, I want to tell everyone."

This is the Ransom that you know, not the man who hated his family and has never had a nice thing said about him. No, he's a complicated one, but he's yours.

"W-what?" You choke. You had been on the down low all these months considering you were his tennis instructor. You'd be fired for breaching the conflict of interest with a client, and you weren rich like him. The strutiny you'd receive from his family, from the town. All eyes would be on you. He cups your cheek with his free hand.

"Move in with me, baby. I'm crazy about you. I don't want anyone else. You're it, doll."

"Ran…"

"What do you say?" He asks as he starts to pleasure you once again and stifle a giggle.

"You are nuts," you reply as you see stars.

"Fine. But next time I choose the roleplaying, tonight got out of hand," you say and shove him playfully.

"Sure thing, baby. Whatever you say."

[jangofctts]

Oh. What about being a mechanic for Fuse's old squad, and you actually really liked Fuse. And you spend your time wondering what happened to him. But then you run into him at some point, and you're just so excited bc holy shit you've missed him. And maybe he's wary bc he thought you hated him like his old squad did, so you have to prove that no! You really like him! And it's one of things where everyone can tell you Love him. And maybe it ends with you proving you love him *wink*

THIS IS VERY SHORT AND I MAY MAKE MORE DRABBLES FOR IT BUT HERE WKEJRWKEJHR

ct-6590 Fuse // reader

warnings; none besides some angst erhkejhr

“Fuse?”

The soldier’s head jerks at the sound of his name, confirming your suspicions. You’d recognize that wild head of hair anywhere. 

Truth be told you thought you imagined him sitting on that crate, scrubbing at the ruby red paint on his armor with steel wool. Y’know, like when you really miss someone their face starts to pop up everywhere you go—your mind playing tricks on the subconscious to ease the hollow ache of a long gone friend. But this time he really is there.

And well…it’s been so long. Nearly a year—gone without a trace. Not dead—the squad made sure to tell you that tidbit, but just…out of their hair as Commander Fang put it. No more chances to accidentally blow all of you sky high with Fuse’s wild rewiring of detonators and bombs he so eagerly threw together. You never found it a problem—he’s…well, he’s Fuse. Hotheaded with a locomotive of chaotic energy flowing through his veins and pounding through his chest in replace of his heart—built for a life not under that of command, forced and squished into plates of plastoid and unfortunate fate. It’s not his fault that he’s always been a broken branch, grafted onto a different tree. A cocktail of one part left alone and two parts tragedy. He always meant well… 

You just wish his brothers could see the same light you saw within him—another chance before he was abandoned, half dead in that hospital bed—injured by his own explosives. 

Stars you’re the luckiest person on Coruscant right now—            

When he bobs his head over his shoulder, his brows lift in surprise. You throw your datapac over a spare crate and rush over, giving him no time to escape as you throw your arms around him in a frantic embrace. 

Fuse wheezes, nearly flung off the crate before he steadies himself. “Skippy?”

You pull back with a wide smile that encompasses your entire face. “Fuse! I missed you, man!” You ruffle his hair and playfully punch his shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitches, his shocked surprise morphing into one of confusion. 

His brows knit together. “What are you doing here? I thought—“

You pull back and poke at his cheek, unbothered when he slaps your hand away. He’s easy to rile up—you remember that detail clearer than crystal. “I’m on leave—just got back from Anaxes. They needed extra hands for the shipbuilding sector.”

The muscles in his jaw twitch was he clenches his jaw, amber brown eyes slipping over your shoulder—looking for shadows, shards of his past that gnaw at the base of his neck with the ivory teeth of anxiety. Anything that remotely resembles the lackluster red of his old squad you both were assigned to. Fuse’s eyes slide back to yours when his search comes up with nothing. “The squad ditch you too?”

You quirk a brow. “Y’know, I expected a bit more of a warmer welcome than this, Fuse. Didn’t you miss me?”

Fuse rolls his eyes and offers you a seat beside him. His eyes track your movements as you fold at the waist and scoop his helmet off the floor. You run your fingertips over the plastoid—It’s almost scrubbed clean of the red paint and there’s an open tin of cyan blue resting on the floor. You hope his new squad is treating him better… “My favorite cockroach—how could I forget.”     

There’s a lull in conversation as you dip your head and study his helmet, your tiny smile reflected in the obsidian visor. A lot has happened since he left—Maker you hope he knows that you never wanted him gone. You bite you lip and shove the helmet back into his hands. “I really did miss you.”

Fuse’s shoulders draw tight, wariness flickering in his eyes. The past had not been kind to him and neither have his brothers and despite what you believed about your previous friendship, there is no reason for him to think you’re any different. For all he knows you could’ve played a part in his forced departure. Your chest squeezes tight. 

“Hey—if you’re free later, I can take you out for drinks,” you offer with a warm smile. “We can—“

“You gonna ditch me there too?” Fuse interjects with an asinine retort. His face pulls into a scowl, bleeding with hurt and you…you were just the catalyst. Just another piece of shrapnel that’s come back to shred through fresh stitches. You frown as he lets out a deep sigh, refusing to meet your eye. “I should go.”

Even though the hurt that collects in between your ribcage like rotten molasses leaves you stunned, you still reach for his hand when he stands. You leap to your feet as he shakes you off, long legs carrying him swiftly across the hanger. But you’re not one to give up easily. 

You jog after him and pull at his arm. “C’mon, Fuse! Just—“ You dodge a pair of R2 units as Fuse continues to stomp down the halls. “Just listen to me.”

He whips around, brows furrowed in a mask of impartialness, grabs you beneath the arm and manhandles you into a side corridor—away from the main traffic and prying eyes. “Leave me alone, kid. You made it clear the first time how—“ Fuse severs his words, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighs again. “Just go, Skippy.”

You dig in your heels. “No. Not until you hear me out, you complete bantha brain.”

He rolls his eyes at that. “Fine.” 

“Fuse—“ You begin, taking a steadying breath. “The others never told me what happened to you. I thought…well I don’t know—I thought you’d come back. If I’d known I—I’m sorry, Fuse.”

You swallow and glance up. He is a stick of candle wax lit from both ends and could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends in the moments before it’s about to fall. You biggest regret is not staying—not fighting to find him under the guise of to much work. He lets you take his hand when you reach for it—jaw still clenched tight and eyes pooling with conflicted decisions.    

“Let me make it up to you,” you tempt. “Please, Fuse. You deserve a night out with your favorite cockroach buying you drinks, right?”

He runs a hand through his fire like hair and bobs his head in a tentative nod, a smile tugging at his lips. “Free drinks you say?”

You huff. “Yeah, whatever. Say yes before I change my mind.”

He does. 

It’s not exactly the emotional reunion you were hoping for, but it’s a start. A fresh opportunity to heal his misgivings and false perceptions. This time you wont let go of his hand. 

[catxsnow]

VENGEANCE T.D.

Summary: After Jason’s death, Tim was the one person that you could lean on, now more than ever. 

Tim x reader and Sister!reader x Jason

Warning: Jason’s death, obviously. swears

A/N: I’m not entirely content with this, might fuck with a part two, who knows.

GIF not mine 

Part Two

Word count: 2.6k

Jason Todd didn't hate Tim Drake.

He never hated Tim, he hated Bruce for allowing Tim to be put into the same situation that he was in. Jason never wanted to see another Robin be brutally murdered like he was. He never wanted another opportunity for some innocent kid who was just trying to make good in the world be beaten to death.

Jason did however, hate Bruce for not getting revenge on his behalf. He hated that Bruce never killed the Joker for killing him. That was why he was filled with so much hate towards the Wayne family. He thought he meant enough to Bruce to cross the line for once. Then again, he also thought that you would too.

You were Jason's younger sister, only by just under two years but he acted as if he was your parent half the time. When the two of you got taken in by Bruce, he became even more protective over you - if that was even possible. You were all Jason had for a very long time.

The shit that the two of you had gone through together, the things that you needed to do to survive, well, nothing could break that bond. Nothing besides the Joker.

The Joker took Jason away from you. When Jason found out that your mother was alive, he went on his own. He knew too well that you would want nothing to do with her - the two of you never got along, not that it was very easy to get along with her in the first place.

So, when Jason was on that cold, concrete floor, beaten half to death and blood dripping everywhere, his last thought was that he was glad you never came with him. He was glad that you never had to go through the pain that he did and the death that followed.

You had never felt so much pain in your life. The heartbreak that Jason's death caused you broke you in ways that you didn't think possible. Jason was the only one that was there for you when you needed someone, he was always the person who knew the right things to say, and wouldn't hesitate to get his hands dirty and make someone pay if they dared hurt you.

Jason was the best big brother you could have ever imagined. Losing him, was like losing a piece of yourself. You couldn't take the pain of missing your other half - so, just like Bruce had done, you put every spare moment of time out on the streets. Your mantle of Batgirl was upheld, but your antics more violent.

Bruce saw it, GCPD saw it, even Dick saw it and he barely stepped foot into the manor after his departure and fight with Bruce. However, no one said anything about it. Bruce was just the same, if not worse. His punches became harder, never ending until his victim was barely breathing. So close to crossing the line, but never far enough to not be able to come back.

And then Tim Drake came around.

He somehow figured out Bruce was Batman and that you were Batgirl. He knew that the two of you needed a Robin, someone that would keep you from passing that line for good. So Bruce took him in, he trained Tim and made him the next Robin.

You didn't mind Tim. He was a nice guy - even though you were very rude to him at first. The loss of Jason turned you in to a completely different person. Cold, untrusting, snappy, nothing like you used to be. He knew what had happened and tried his best to make life better for you.

Slowly, you started to warm up to Tim. You saw him less as a replacement to your brother and more of a friend. He didn't want you to think that he replaced Jason, he simply wanted to help to make sure that you and Batman kept your morals that you spent years maintaining.

He was the reason that you never crossed that line. Tim stopped you from killing the Joker. The moment that he popped his out of the twisted shadows he hid within, you were there, beating the ever living hell out of him. All you could see was him beating Jason, an innocent kid. You did this for Jason, to avenge him.

Joker was left in a bloody, beaten, lifeless pulp when you were done with him. Broken ribs, displaced knees, so much blood on his face that he wasn't recognizable. You wanted to kill him, you tried to, but Tim was the one to swoop in the last minute, stopping you from something you would regret for the rest of your life.

You broke down in his arms, crying that your brother was gone and that he was right, killing the Joker wouldn't bring him back. Tim held you as you bawled, promising that he would be there for you, no matter the pain. You just wanted to feel something other than the heartbreak that filled your chest - so Tim changed that.

Instead of grief, he filled you with happiness, love, desire. Upon trying to help you, Tim fell in love with you along the way. He spent hours with you, training to be better, crying on the year death of your brother, anything  to distract you from the pain. He was there with you every step of the way.

He was scared to tell you how he felt. Scared that you only saw him as a crutch rather than a lover.

On the night of a Wayne gala, he couldn't hold his tongue any longer. You wore the most gorgeous gown that he had ever seen, or maybe it was just because you were the one in it. So, when the two of you danced, hand in hand and effortless gliding across the ballroom, he ended the dance with a kiss.

You weren't expecting it, but the moment that he had his lips on yours, you completely melted into him. Feelings that you never realized were even there erupted through your whole body, a happiness that you hadn't felt since that day. Tim swept you off your feet, literally.

You were happy with Tim. He brought a smile to your face on the hardest of days. Patrolling became something that you looked forward to again rather than feeling like a chore. You were no longer as violent as you once were, Bruce was slowly feeling the same way. Tim brought a light to both of your lives.

Things finally seemed like they were getting back to a place of normalcy. You could sleep at night without waking up from a nightmare, visit Jason's grave (something that was always too painful to do before Tim), even go into Jason's old room. Things were getting easier, but the pain was still there.

"Batgirl to Robin," you spoke over the comms. It was a pretty normal night on patrol - a few common thugs but nothing major. A new and improved Batgirl suit covered your body - you had finally outgrown the old one.

"Robin."

"How do you feel about a late night sushi date after this?" It was nearing the end of your guys night and you were starting to get hungry. The bright lights of a 24-hour sushi restaurant were catching your attention.

"You always hated sushi."

The voice made you jump. This wasn't Tim's voice, in fact it wasn't even over the comms. It was coming from right behind you. Not very many people could sneak up on you - in fact only Batman was able to and this sure as hell wasn't Batman. A tall man with a red helmet and guns holstered on his hips stood before you.

His voice was distorted and you had no idea who it was or where they had come from. Gotham was filled with all kinds of crazy, but only few were skilled enough to best you.

However, it was what he had known about you that threw you off - hating sushi. It was true, you never liked sushi until you met Tim. He had taken you there on a date one evening and before you could complain about the choice of food, he had given you the best meal of your life. Not only did you like the food now, but eating it always reminded you of him.

You decided that attacking first, asking questions later was your best choice. You didn't know who this guy was but you weren't planning on finding out the hard way. This guy could be wanting to kill you - not that you would be surprised. After upholding the mantle for several years after Barbra, you had a pretty long list of enemies.

This guy, wasn't one of them. Yet.

Whoever he was, he knew how to fight. Every move that you pulled on him, he somehow knew how to block, counter, or predict. He managed to dodge nearly all of your attempts at a batarang hit and those that he wasn't able to dodge, deflected off of his helmet. He was good, maybe better than you.

You landed several good punches on him. Since his helmet seemed to be strong, you aimed for the ribs, the knees, and shoulders. However, it seemed that with every hit you got, he had returned. Pain flared up in your ribs and you were sure that they were cracked, if not broken.

The man's kick had pushed you across the roof and you landed painful against the ground. A loud groan was emitted and all the wind was knocked out of your lungs. This guy was good, there was no way that you could take him on your own.

"Robin I-" you never got to finish you sentence. A loud gunshot rang out with a bullet zooming right by your ear. Ringing filled your head and you flinched away from your earpiece.

"Batgirl? Batgirl! What happened? (Y/N)!" Tim yelled. You didn't dare reach to try and speak to him again. Not when his gun was out and pointed right at you. Instead, you raised your arms in a temporary surrender. This man, he obviously wanted something otherwise he would have shot you already.

"What do you want? Who are you?" He never lowered his gun. You narrowed your eyes at him, "you're not going to kill me, so what the hell do you want. Better make it quick, the Bats is on his way."

"You've gotten better at being Batgirl," He finally spoke again. The modulated voice rang loud and clear in the traffic filled night. "I still beat you though, just like always."

Just like always? What the hell was this guy talking about. You had never met him before in your life. You had fought a lot of people in your line of work but you would have remember someone like him - someone that could put you on your ass in a matter of minutes.

A fear began to well in your chest about what was going to happen to you. A fear that maybe this man would bring you to the same demise as your brother. It had been a long time since you feared death.

"What do you want?" You repeated a final time. With a wince, you pushed yourself off the ground, eye level with the barrel of his gun. Obviously, he didn't trust you enough for you to be standing without a weapon pointed between your eyes. You just hoped that Tim and Bruce would show up fast enough before this guy could do anything to you.

"Your brother would be disappointed in you."

Your breath caught in your throat. How did he know about Jason? How did he know what had happened to him? And mostly importantly, how did he know that you could never bring yourself to kill the joker? This man knew who you were, your real identity - or maybe he was just bluffing.

You didn't give him a reaction, that had to have been what he was looking for. How he knew your brother - and you- and why he was interested in the relationship, left you more confused than anything. You wanted to know how this man was, and more importantly, you wanted to know what he wanted.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know everything about you," he argued, his voice rising. "You couldn't avenge your brother, you let Batman replace him, what else have you done?"

"He never would have wanted me to cross that line, because he knew I would never be able to come back!" You matched his voice. Your fists clenched at your sides and you suddenly felt furious that this man standing in front of you pretended that he knew who you were and who Jason was.

"He would have wanted you to make sure that no one took the mantle of Robin again, he would have wanted you to make sure that no one would have to share the same death as him but what did you do? You welcomed the replacement right into your bed!" This man seemed to know more about your life than you would have ever thought.

Very few people knew your identity, Tim's, and Bruce's. You made sure that it was kept well under wraps so that cases like this would never have happened. No, this stranger was taunting you in the worst kinds of ways - your brother, and what he meant to you.

You always thought that you had done Jason's memory well - maybe not perfect but he wouldn't have been wanted to be remembered as the perfect son. He was brave, dauntless, he acted real and never caved into the posh society that the two of you were dragged into. Jason was human, and you made sure he was remembered that way.

Your jaw clenched and you swore that you face twitched in anger. Seeing red, you didn't notice that the man had picked up one of your previously thrown batarangs and threw it right into your shoulder. You cried out in pain and before you could retaliate, he was gone. You braced yourself for the pain and pulled out the metal just as Tim arrived on the rooftop with you.

"(Y/N)," Tim sighed in relief. He rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. His hands cupped your face and without thinking, he kissed you. "I was so worried, you didn't answer and I heard the gunshot. I thought you were dead." You shook your head, still fazed by the interaction.

"He knew who I was," You voice trembled. You finally looked over at Tim. He saw the blood drip from your shoulder and pressed his hand into the wound to hopefully slow the bleeding. "He knew who Jason was. Tim, h-he... the things he said, he thought that I would have been a disappointment to him."

"You know that's bull," Tim promised you. You were too much of an emotional mess to even feel the pain coursing through your body. "Jason would be so proud of the person you've become. You've saved so many lives - he would be happy for you. We're going to find this guy, he'll get the justice he deserves."

"No," You shook your head. The anger that he had cast upon you only kept growing in your chest. No one, disrespected your brother's memory, ever. You were going to make sure of that. 

"I want him dead."

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 3: Ruby

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry wants to be good enough, and Y/N is confused.

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Word count: 5.5k

Wattpad link

Chapter 2: Castles In The Air - Y/N can’t stop worrying about Harry, but she isn’t the only one.

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The next morning, Y/N showed up at work like nothing was wrong. With a smile plastered on her face, she busied herself by doing all the tasks in the bookstore, including the ones assigned to Alice. She thought if she didn't have time to sit down and rest, she wouldn't think about yesterday, but once in a while, she still got tempted and ended up checking her messages. All she'd received were those annoying phone ads, nothing from her boyfriend, not even a breakup text. She had to prepare herself for the worst.

While lost in thoughts, Y/N heard her boss calling out her name and hopped off the stool to go see what he needed. The man was sitting behind the reception counter, hunching down so his face was nearly in contact with the page as if his thick glasses couldn't do their job. He was writing something and immediately looked up when Y/N said his name.

"Here you are," said Eddie as he pushed his glasses upward as it kept sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Last week you asked me for five days off from the 24th to the 28th, right?"

Y/N furrowed her brows, looking quite confused as the man squinted his gray eyes at her. "You said your best friends were getting married?"

"Right! Yeah, they are...they are getting married!" She chuckled nervously, making that truthful answer sound like one of those excuses she'd used to get away with being lazy. Her two high school best friends, Celine and Amala, were getting married in three weeks in Holmes Chapel. They'd always talked about how they had wanted to say "I do" right by the lake where they'd had their first date. And Y/N had even volunteered to be their maid of honor. She wanted to blame the recent drama for distracting her, but there was no justifiable excuse for being a shit friend.

Eddie closed the notebook as he put down the pen, his lips formed a hard line. "Unfortunately, I won't be here that week and Alice cannot be alone in the store."

"No!" Y/N gripped the edge of the counter, shaking her head so fast it might fall off. "That's my best friends' wedding, Ed! I'm their maid of honor!"

"I'm sorry, Y/N. There's nothing I can do."

"Come on, sweet Eddie! You know I cannot miss the wedding!" The girl pleaded, her hands clasped together as she rested her elbows on the counter, blinking her eyes at him.

Eddie gulped and out of habit adjusted his glasses again. He appeared more like a teenage boy than a thirty-year-old man. It wasn't just his ageless face; it was also the fact that he still lived with his parents and had never kissed a girl. Y/N found out from his mother, who often brought him lunch and embarrassed him as any mother would, as if it wasn't already obvious. No matter how hard Eddie tried to act cool, he still got nervous around Y/N and Alice, which was why they constantly took advantage of his naivety to get what they wanted. This time, however, he stuck to his decision.

"No means no, Y/N." Eddie shook his head, unfazed by how fast her smile dropped. "You've been here for 225 days, and today is the first day you've actually worked. You're lucky I'm still paying you."

"I...worked when you weren't here."

"Nice try, but the answer's still no."

Just like that, he got to his feet and walked back inside. Y/N intended to follow, not wanting to give up so easily, but as soon as she took a step forward, the little bell above the entrance got her full attention. She turned quickly, opening her mouth to say hello only to freeze when she saw who it was.

"I'm here for the pretty girl named Y/N," Harry said with a warm smile that made her stomach go fuzzy. She was speechless for a moment before finally snapping out of it as he came closer.

"The pretty girl named Y/N isn't here. This one is all you've got." She pressed her lips into a grin as color heightened on her sweet oval face.

"This one is enough," Harry replied calmly, leaving Y/N once again tongue-tied, and confused. Since they met again in Holmes Chapel, he'd been acting weird and she'd been wondering a lot. Was it because he still had feelings for her, or was there something else she did not know? It would not make any difference to know the truth now she was with Isaac. Still, she couldn't help but think about it over and over again. And if Isaac was right, that Harry was still in love with Ruby, what was the point of him looking at her this way?

"Uhm...I'm here to return your jacket." Handing it back to her, he pressed his lips into a small grin to ease the awkward tension between them.

"How do you know I work here?" She asked with caution, watching him put the jeans jacket on the countertop.

"I asked Niall." Of course, Y/N thought to herself, taking a deep breath. For a second she had hoped he'd talked to Isaac, but that idea seemed so far-fetched for now Isaac didn't even talk to her.

Biting her lip, she pointed to his injured knee. "Thought you weren't allowed to leave your house."

"I'm not." He chuckled slightly, giving her a shrug. "But I got bored."

Thea rolled her eyes at the playful answer she had expected. With a smile, she thanked him for returning her jacket, but then said, "I really like to chat, but as you can see, I'm on my shift."

"Oh." He gave her half a smile, shaking his head. "Can you give me five minutes? I wanna show you something."

Yes, she could give him five minutes. She had given him many years of her life, so five more minutes wouldn't make a big difference. But what if they did? What if those five minutes drove them down the same dead-end road again? The hug they had shared in the hospital lasted no longer than five minutes, and it had brought them so much trouble with their significant others. So even though that sounded like a simple yes-no question, but to Y/N, it certainly wasn't simple.

Her thought process was cut short by Alice's deafening scream which nearly broke all windows in this place. Eddie had to drop whatever he was doing at the back to see for himself what was happening here. And his reaction when seeing Harry, though not as dramatic as Alice's, was somewhat similar.

"H-Harry Styles!" The man laughed loudly, admiration lit up his face as he threw his hands in the air. "Harry Styles is in my bookstore, everyone!"

Needless to say, Y/N was shocked. It was only then that she remembered Harry wasn't just Harry. He was also that award-winning actor whose face was everywhere on billboards and magazines. She had known him her whole life thus she sometimes forgot how big and famous he'd become. She might have to get used to this at some point.

"Hi! How can we help you, sir?" Alice said as she pushed Y/N aside with her hip to catch Harry's attention. Eddie was even more competitive. He grabbed Alice's elbow, pulling her back to take her place and speak loudly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles! I'm the store owner and whatever you're looking for we—"

"I'm here for Y/N actually," Harry interrupted the man, pointing to his Bambi, and the smiles on Alice's and Eddie's face had never fallen so fast. They looked at each other, then at Y/N, then at each other again. It didn't take too long for them to figure it out.

"Wait, Harry Styles is...your friend?" Y/N could only nod, watching Alice's massive blue eyes grow even bigger as she turned back to Harry. "Y/N is like a sister to me so can I please take a photo with you?!"

"Me too!" Eddie jumped right in, raising his hand. "I...I want a photo too...please?"

It was no surprise that Alice was crazy for Harry, most of the girls her age were. What Y/N could never have guessed was Eddie being obsessed with Harry too. He seemed like one of those hardcore sci-fi nerds, not someone who would go insane for an actor in romantic movies. But she could judge him later, now was a good opportunity to ask for that one-week off.

"Ed." She tapped the man on the shoulder but he brushed her hand right off. So she tried again by raising her voice. "Ed, hey, about my request—"

"Take as many days off as you want," said Eddie as he pushed her out of the way to pose for a selfie with his favorite actor. He seemed so excited, making her wish she could film this and make fun of him later.

As soon as he finished, Alice jumped right in and didn't hesitate to ask for a kiss on the cheek. She said she wanted to make her Instagram followers jealous, and so Harry laughed and asked which cheek she wanted him to kiss.

"Okay, that's enough. Harry must go now," Y/N spoke once they had taken the photo. She managed to free Harry from Alice and pushed him towards the entrance, but he refused to leave and insisted on showing her something first. She couldn't have guessed what it was, yet she knew they could never talk when the other two were here. So while Alice and Eddie were busy sending those photos to everyone, Y/N took Harry to the furthest aisle from the entrance. Now they could have their conversation in peace.

It was so quiet here that even the sound of them breathing became loud, and she was afraid he might hear how hard her heart was thumping. But Harry was just as nervous, his ragged breathing gave himself away. It wasn't their fault that the aisle was so dark and narrow, they both stood with their backs against the shelves, but if either took a step forward, her forehead would touch his chest. That would be very awkward, she imagined.

"Five minutes," she whispered, crossing her arms while holding his stare. And when his dimples appeared, her heart melted fast like ice-cream on a hot summer day.

Y/N remembered this feeling, vividly. In fact, she hadn't felt it with anyone else besides him, and it scared her because she didn't want to fall down that rabbit hole again. Tucking a loose strand behind her ear, she cleared her throat and gathered all the confidence she had left to smile back at him. "So, you were gonna show me something?"

"Oh, yeah...right." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head like a nervous teenage boy as he turned on his phone. Y/N always thought the gesture was endearing, and every time he did that, her heart swelled again. She took a small step closer to look at the screen, muttering a faint "sorry" when her arm slightly bumped against his. Though they had hugged twice, she hadn't noticed until now that he was wearing a different fragrance. She must stop herself from thinking about his new scent, and why she still remembered what he smelt like a year ago to compare.

"Gemma sent me these this morning," Harry said as he showed her the photos of his home in Holmes Chapel. They had finished repairing it, and now the place looked as good as new, perhaps even better. "Robin's youngest daughter is moving abroad, so he and my mum are selling his house and moving back into ours."

"That's great, Harry!"

"Yeah." He chuckled at her excited reaction. "Mum is so obsessed with the garden, I don't think she'll ever want to be away from it for too long."

"She and I both," Y/N said with a soft grin. "When I was little, your mother's garden was like Wonderland to me. I used to envy you for it."

The memories made Harry smile. "But you have Marcy now. I think she did a great job taking care of your house. The flower garden was beautiful before the storm."

"How do you know how it looked before the storm?" Y/N asked in a doubtful little voice and the man in front of her froze to the spot. He wasn't supposed to know about Marcy's flower garden since he had never seen it before. When he came back to Holmes Chapel, that garden had been destroyed, and it was impossible to tell how beautiful it used to be.

Now Harry's good-looking face was taut with angst. He shouldn't have been so careless. If she found out he'd seen the garden when he came back last year, for her, would she start acting distant towards him? He'd lost her as a lover already, he couldn't bear the thought of losing her as a friend too, not again.

While his mind was racing with thoughts, he blurted out the first thing he came up with, "your dad sent me some photos."

"When?"

"After the wedding."

Y/N said nothing else, but judging by that quizzical look, he knew his made-up reason didn't fool her. Harry hoped she would let this go, because if she asked Bradford and found out he was lying, he wouldn't know what to do.

Their private moment was, once again, intruded by Eddie and Alice, who seemed thrilled to know Harry was still here. Eddie immediately showed Harry the online article on his tablet. "You're doing another movie with Ruby Ellis?!" He asked, to the actor's surprise.

"Are you two back together?" Alice jumped right in, both hands clasped in front of her chest. Harry stole a quick glance at Y/N as he prayed she would believe him instead of them.

"We were never together," he said.

"But you should be! You two are the reason I'm bisexual."

"Alice!" Y/N cried out. As harmless as Alice's inappropriate joke sounded, it surely made Y/N and Harry uncomfortable. If only Harry could reassure her she was the only woman he loved. But how would he say those words and make them sincere, when in reality he was still sleeping with Ruby?

"There's more chemistry between you and Ruby than a science lab," Eddie added, seemingly proud of his own joke because Alice was laughing as well. Y/N, on the other hand, could only twitch her lips to show amusement which wasn't even there. Harry's eyes were fixed on her, yet she didn't spare him a single glance. It now began to dawn on him that all effort he exerted to prove that he'd changed, would all go to waste if he kept sneaking around with another woman. It was easy to believe in the obvious, and right now, to Y/N, the obvious was him loving Ruby, and not her.

"Isaac!" Alice shouted, causing Harry to turn his head to the end of the aisle. His brain stuttered for a moment and every part of him paused for his thoughts to catch up. Isaac looked him in the eyes, it wasn't the type of look someone would give their best friend. And Harry felt his limbs go numb for a second there.

"We just found out Y/N knows Harry Styles," Alice said happily, hugging Y/N's arm but the older girl didn't react. Her mind was racing a mile a minute and the big lump in her throat kept her from breaking this awkward silence. Harry already knew it was time for him to go.

"It's nice catching up with you, Y/N," he said and left so fast he forgot about goodbye.

Y/N didn't know which was worse, Isaac and Harry acting like two strangers, or Harry calling her Y/N instead of Bambi. Her limpid eyes stayed on the man she once loved until he was gone, and soon shifted back to the man she was supposed to love. Now that Eddie and Alice had followed Harry to the door, she was left alone with Isaac, surrounded by an overwhelming silence.

She had been expecting a call or a text from him since last night, but now he was here, she felt more afraid than relieved. All the things she had planned to say to him had vanished at once. Her face went pale, and she was picking at her arm as he approached.

"Can we talk?" He asked her.

There were two questions Y/N hated the most: this one, and "do you love me?" She hated to say them but she hated to hear them even more, yet now she was about to face one of them or both. Taking a deep breath, she gave Isaac a small nod, and they stood in the same positions she and Harry had earlier. But instead of ease and contentment, all she could feel now was anxiety and fear.

Looking down to avoid eye-contact, she noticed Isaac tapping his right foot rapidly. She could guess confronting her had really frayed his nerves. He stood with his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment. The tense atmosphere surrounding them didn't help them feel less trapped.

"I'm sorry about last night," he spoke at last. "I could've handled the situation better, but I...uhm...It wasn't right to raise my voice at you and say what I said..."

"You don't have to apologize," she cut him off but he raised both hands to stop her there.

"I do," he asserted, shaking his head fast. "But...I'm not only here to apologize. I think we really need to talk...about us, and Harry."

"Nothing happened between Harry and I. I swear," Y/N blurted. "You have to trust me. I would never do that to you."

"I know. But I wish you had," Isaac muttered, his voice was weak and hoarse. He could tell from the way her face scrunched up that she didn't get it, so he had to explain. "I wish you'd done something wrong, so it wouldn't be so hard to let you go."

"What...what do you mean?" Y/N gulped, her hands were shaking so much she had to hide them behind her back. She didn't want to believe this. She couldn't. "Are you...breaking up with me?"

Isaac's silence was already the answer. Y/N knew that look on his face, and she'd seen it once before when her first love came to tell her they would not work. She had never thought she would see it again, at least not on Isaac, the one person she was sure that would never leave her.

"You know I love you," he lowered his voice to a whisper. Sadness soon transformed her face as she reached out to hold his hand. "And I love you," she breathed. "You know I do."

"Not the same way that you love him, not as much. Never as much." That statement sent Y/N straight to silence. Her heart was pounding out of her chest as he looked into her eyes to make sure she heard every single word he said. "I know you want to believe we're good together and you should be with me. I've been telling myself the same thing, but a part of me always knew we'd been a lost cause from the start. And it's on me because I should've given up when you pushed me away. I should never have taken advantage of when you were most vulnerable to step in."

"No, please don't say that. You did nothing wrong..."

"Hey, hey, it's alright." Isaac held her pouting face as his lips curved into a small smile, but she knew he was far from happy to say these words. "It doesn't matter who's at fault. Maybe we both are..." He exhaled while stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "But it's time for me to let you go. Not because I don't love you or that I'm angry at you. I love you, I do, and I know you love me too. But there's always gonna be him. And a relationship won't work if we're not each other's one and only."

"We were happy," Y/N blurted as she looked at him with lifeless eyes.

"Yes, we were." Isaac gave her a small nod, not breaking their eye contact. "But we won't be happy forever if we continue lying to ourselves. You believe you should be with me because it's easier than being with him. But let me tell you this, when something's easy, it doesn't always mean that it's also right."

With one last kiss on her forehead, Isaac walked away without saying goodbye. Maybe he was so quick to leave because he couldn't show her how hurt he truly was. But watching him go was definitely heartbreaking. And soon after he had left, Y/N collapsed onto the floor, hugging both knees as the color drained out of her face. There were so many inquiries spinning in circles around her head. What was happening? Was this reality? Was that an official break up? Had she lost Isaac forever? But most importantly, was everything he'd said correct?

In the pit of her despair, Y/N finally came to acceptance. The thing that scared her more than Isaac being right, was the fact that she would always love Harry most of all, even when she wasn't his one and only. And then came the biggest question for herself, what was she going to do about it?

.

.

.

Bitch. Slut. Whore. Cheater. Liar.

Nothing that Ruby hadn't seen.

She logged out of Instagram, secretly cursing herself for even checking the comment section. She had worked in this industry for too long to believe she would get used to the hate. Still, she was glad nobody was blaming Harry for what had happened. Everyone assumed he and her ex-fiancé James were both victims of her 'evil scheme'. They could believe whatever they wanted, she couldn't care less, as long as it didn't affect Harry's reputation.

"Ms. Ellis?" 

The soft voice at Ruby's bedroom door caught her full attention. She rose from the bed and secured the strings of her pink silk robe before turning to her assistant. "So?" Her expression hardened fast. "What did they say, Liv?"

"Mr. Fischer was on the phone with him, and he refused to delete that tweet."

"He said so himself?"

"Yes, Mr. Fischer told me to tell you that—"

"Son of a bitch!" The actress cursed aloud as she quickly grabbed her phone to search for her ex's contact name. She held the device with one hand, shoving the other into her golden locks and asking her assistant to leave her alone.

"You shouldn't call him," Liv spoke, her voice trembled with concern. "Mr. Fischer said—"

"Mike is my manager, not my boss. I don't have to do everything he tells me to do," Ruby grumbled, her glare frightened the young girl, giving her no other choice but to hurry out of the room. Soon after the door had fallen shut, James picked up the phone. He barely finished half of the word "hello" when Ruby raised her voice with anger. "Delete that fucking tweet, asshole!" 

"That's not the way you speak to your ex-fiancé, love." His scornful laugh drove her up the walls, but she let it go and head straight to the point.

"You can go on the Internet and say whatever you want about me, play your victim card, I don't fucking care. But leave Harry out of this."

"You worry about that kid or your new movie with him? But judging from how your so-called fans react to the cast announcement, I think the movie will flop anyway."

"He's more a man than you are. Because only a kid would go on social media to spread lies and beg for people's sympathy," she spoke through gritted teeth. "I told you the truth, and you asked me to marry you anyway. But now you're telling the world you didn't know about me and Harry, that he convinced me to break off our engagement? I knew you were an asshole, but this is just pathetic...Maybe leaving you was the right thing after all."

James seemed unbothered by everything she had said. If anything, he sounded amused. "Don't be so mean, sweetheart. Without me, you would still be a nameless waitress and have men grope you for some extra cash." He chuckled lowly. "I built you up and I can cast you down easily. You should be thankful I don't intend to ruin your life for good."

Ruby shook her head as she released a wry laugh. "You insecure asshole, you've always been intimidated by me. All you've ever done from the start was putting me down and making sure I wouldn't outshine you. I can't believe I used to love you."

"Neither can I." His answer froze her to the spot. "Because, darling, I never loved you."

She tried to hold it in as she exhaled, yet her lips trembled and her eyes teared up. She thought she might lose it any minute now. That wasn't enough for James though, the asshole made sure he wrecked her completely as he went on. "You're just another talentless dumb blonde. Why would I be intimidated by you? Without that pretty face, you are nothing. You can't even act, the only movie scenes that people will remember you from, are the ones of you spreading your legs."

"You fucking cunt..." Her voice was full of breath as her eyes squeezed shut. "If you think I'm afraid of you, you're fucking wrong."

"Because you're afraid of everything, is that right? I don't blame you, sweetheart. It's not your fault that no man takes you seriously. No one will love you for real, Ruby. Not even that boy."

When James hung up, Ruby stood in that same position like a statue. She tried to steady her breath until her assistant burst into the room and told her James had deleted his tweet.

"Ms. Ellis?" Asked Liv as she saw the vacant look on her boss' face. The actress laid down her phone without saying a word and put on a smile as if nothing was wrong.

"Told ya I could deal with that son of a bitch," she said, laughing slightly.

She knew James was wrong, at least about one thing, she might not be the best actress, but she knew she was a good one. Her fake beam had fooled Liv into believing her happiness was genuine. But as the girl left, so did the smile on Ruby's pretty face. Sometimes she forgot not everywhere she went was a movie set, and now it felt terrifying to even be true to herself.

Thinking for a moment, she took her phone and searched for 'Love' in her contact list. Harry had set that name for himself and she'd never changed it, even when they had ended a long time ago. 

⌲ Have you gone on Twitter?

She waited patiently, and her heart sighed in relief when the reply came.

⌲ Love: No, why?

⌲ Nothing :)

⌲ Just wanna ask if you saw the article.

⌲ Love: The cast announcement right? They used a TERRIBLE photo of me.

⌲ Love: But yours looks great.

Ruby was beaming now. That sentence was enough to erase the previous phone call from her mind. Just as she thought she couldn't be any happier, his next message arrived.

⌲ Love: I'm right outside your door. Are you home?

⌲ Yes, give me a sec.

She tossed her phone aside, wasting no time to run downstairs and greeted Harry at the door with the tightest hug. Her happiness probably confused him, but she wouldn’t tell him anything, not James’ tweet, not even the horrible things the bastard had said to her. Now he was here, and she was no longer afraid.

Maybe her elation had prevented her from seeing his reluctance. She shut the door and grabbed his hand. “Sit, I’m gonna make you a cup of tea!”

“Actually, I’m only here to talk,” he mumbled as his fingers slipped right through hers, leaving her confused for a second. Laughing nervously, she said, “we can talk while having tea.”

“It’s gonna be quick.”

Ruby ignored that statement and turned to walk back inside. Something seemed wrong, but as usual, she hoped if she kept on pretending, everything would turn out fine. This, however, wasn’t the case.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Those five words stopped her dead in her tracks. Simple as they were, their weight could crush her numb body to dust in an instant. Her arms fell slack to her sides as she looked back, her deep-set eyes widened at him. “You can’t do what anymore?”

“Us...” He confessed, nodding slightly to confirm whatever she thought was right. “I’m so sorry, but...I can’t.”

She took a deep breath, hoping, with a crooked smile, she could cover up the fact that her heart was speed-racing. “Do I deserve to know the reason?” She wished he had hesitated but it seemed like he already had an answer.

“I’m in love with someone else,” he said without pause. Ruby’s golden brown eyes fell shut as she took a deep breath then let it all out. She was even surprised by how she remained this calm, or she was so hurt that her brain couldn’t function anymore.

“Y/N.” The name made Harry flinch as he met her eyes once again. “That’s the girl, right?”

He didn’t have to answer, she already knew it was a yes.

“You know,” she began again, glancing at the ceiling as she chuckled softly. “When she first said her name, I could‘ve sworn I’d heard it somewhere else. Then I got home and kept replaying it in my head. Y/N...Y/N...Y/N...” She paused, pressing her lips into a lopsided grin as her eyes fell back on him. “And then it hit me, I’d spoken to her on the phone before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it was two or three years ago I think,” she recalled, looking so indifferent to the way he furrowed his eyebrows. “It was when we called it quit the first time. We didn’t talk for a week and you went to Holmes Chapel for a funeral. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah.” His voice was barely audible.

She exhaled and continued. “The first night you were back in London, someone called you on the phone when you were in the shower. The girl said that her name was Y/N, and asked me to tell you to call her back. But you’d never mentioned a Y/N to me, so I assumed she was just a fan that somehow got your number, and I didn’t say a word to you about that. Never had I expected that...Y/N would be the one you chose over me today.”

She stopped to study his face, letting silence take over for a moment before she asked, “do you hate me for not telling you that she’d called?” Slowly, he shook his head. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Because she’s dating Isaac?” She emphasized the name as if to make a statement. With tears in her eyes and her jaw tightened, she knew he expected her to yell at him, but instead, her voice trembled. “She’s dating your best friend...Why are you still in love with her?”

His answer was nothing she could have foreseen. “You don’t have to be with someone to be in love with them.”

Ruby had prepared herself for the worst, but she hadn’t thought it would hurt this bad. Her mouth set in a hard line, she couldn’t even face him now that her eyes had flooded with tears. Her elbows pressed into her sides as she hugged herself, making her body look so small. Then she pointed her shaky finger to the door and told him, “please leave.”

Harry only nodded as she turned away so he wouldn’t see her cry. In that instant, she wished he had said he was wrong, and he never wanted to hurt her feelings. But all that she received was “see you at the table read.” And just like that, he walked out.

Alone, and again, afraid, Ruby dragged her heavy feet to the sofa and sat there with her face in her hands. Her eyes shut tight as she tried to drown out James’ voice. But it kept growing louder and echoing through her ears as if he was living inside her head.

“No one will love you for real, Ruby. Not even that boy.”

[solo-pitstop-vibes]

Don’t Have to Tell Me Twice

A/N: I wrote this one kinda quick, maybe it’s not too bad. I’m trying to really work on my writing so I’m going to try to get the part two for Come Home to Me out soon. Enjoy!

Words: 2,333

"The murmur is gone."

The words that stopped your heart, your breathing, and echoed in your mind for weeks, months, days, and years. The second those four words slipped from your sweet Eugene's lips, your world stopped. You held it together, but that night you cried yourself to sleep. You knew Gene would be shipping off soon, off to fight the war that he had so desperately been trying to claw his way to. You didn't want him to go, you knew better than to beg, so you didn't dare ask him to stay. His heart was with the war, and if he didn't go, his heart would never be at home. So you collected yourself the best you could and came to terms with him leaving. You didn't know how long he'd be gone or if you'd ever see him again. You two had known each other for several years now, him being the first person you met when your family moved to town when you were 13, and now you were inseparable. You and Eugene had just been together as a couple for about 9 months when he shipped out.

Seeing him off at the train station almost broke your heart entirely. Especially when he gave you that adorable half-smile of his standing out on the platform.

"You better not run off and find another gal on your way home when the war is over," you had said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, a small grin on your face.

"I'll try my hardest darlin'. Ain't nobody as pretty as you though, gotta make sure I come home so no one steals the prettiest girl in Mobile out from under me," Eugene smiles that smile that made you fall in love with him all over again, and your blush could be seen a mile away. The whistle of the train caught your attention and broke your smiles. It was time.

"Don't forget, mother and father want you over for supper every Sunday afternoon, and you can take Deacon on a walk anytime you like. Don't be shy, they love you," Eugene reminded you.

"I know, Gene. Thank you for reminding me, I'll make sure to give Deacon extra lovin' since you won't be there to spoil him." That dog had gone everywhere with you two the past few years, he had become like a child between the pair of you. You never saw you two without Deacon. The train whistle blew again, meaning it was time for Eugene to board. Tears had started to well up in your eyes, and Eugene pulled you into a tight embrace.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be back, I promise. I love you (Y/N)."

You hugged him back with everything in your body before pulling away.

"I love you too Eugene," your hands settled on his chest and his came up to cup your face, pulling your lips to his. You knew the next kiss shared between you two would a very long time from then, but you never thought it would be nearly 4 years later. In your heart, it felt like an eternity.

—

Life had been passing by, but not truly lived while Eugene was away. You had kept Gene's reminder in check, and you had supper with his family every Sunday evening and walked Deacon at least every other day. Since Eugene had been gone, you had moved out of your family's house into a small one bedroom house closer to town. It was exactly what you wanted, and everything you could ask for. Your parents had offered to help you purchase the small home, in exchange that you took classes at Alabama Polytechnic, and kept a small job. Three or four days out of the week after your last midday class, you were an assistant in the office at the elementary school downtown. You always loved seeing the kids during the school year, and when the summers rolled around, they always let you help out the rest of the staff with any repainting they did around the school. Most of the staff had gotten to know you, so they always tried to keep you busy and your thoughts off the constant worry in your mind.

To everyone else, it seemed as if you were doing just fine, but on the inside, you were a pile of shattered glass. Each waking moment was a struggle, every moment was filled with dread and worry. Your worst nightmare was hearing the news that no one wanted to hear, the news that made mothers, fathers, siblings, and significant others crash to their knees and weep. Each letter from Eugene was a small relief, but his letters were filled with glimpses into the hell he was living. He tried his hardest to spare you the gore and the hideous details of each day in the Pacific, but you knew he was struggling to keep it together. You did your best writing him back, you never wanted to glorify the quaint life of Mobile. That was a cruel thing to do to a man in war. Eugene's letters often came months late, and you may only receive one every 3-5 months. When you other best fried, Sidney Phillips returned from the Pacific, he did his best to comfort you when you were down. Although, he was still trying to help himself to recover from the horrors he had seen in the war himself. Since Sid's return home, you both decided to at least have lunch with each other once a week, usually every Tuesday. You were actually the one to help him get up the courage to finally ask Mary Houston it, a girl he had been pinning after since he was a young teenager. After a few months of them dating, Mary started joining you two for lunch, and you and her became friends. This became your routine, every Tuesday you three would meet at the little diner downtown, have lunch, talk, and enjoy each other's company. A year passed and one day, the couple sitting across from you couldn't stop smiling at each other. It warmed your heart to see them so happy together, but this affection was a little more than usual.

"Okay, you two," you giggle, setting your coffee cup down on the table in front of you, "y'all haven't stopped smiling at each other since you walked up. Something tells me that something is goin' on here that I just don't know about yet. You best spill the beans before I have to pull it out of ya."

They both laughed and Sid caught your gaze, a broad smile on his face. It clicked in your head and you already knew what he was about to say. A genuine smile spread across your cheeks, "Well Sid I hate to tell ya, but you might have a few men try to jump you when you announce that the Mary Houston is officially off the market for good." You all laughed and Mary gushed about how romantic it was when Sid asked her to marry him. Their engagement started a new branch of your life that helped you pull through each day. Mary began including you in things with her friends, and she always had a list of things to ask your opinion on each Tuesday. You never let the news break to Gene, Sid said he wanted to break the news to him himself, so you kindly agreed. You helped them plan their small engagement party, which was held at the new banquet hall down by the bay. That night, your heart ached that you couldn't have Eugene by your side, but you put a smile on your face for everyone. The wedding creating a new thread in life for you, which helped brighten your days. The couple decided to wait until the war was over to have the ceremony, mainly due to the fact that Sidney wanted Eugene to be his best man, even though you offered to wear one of Eugene's old suit coats over your dress and be a stand-in. He declined the offer, saying you were too pretty to be standing in for Eugene, that he needed the real deal.

Between the wedding planning, working at the elementary school, and attending college, before you knew it, another year had passed. You were painting a large cartoon farm in one of the halls at the elementary school when the news rang out on the radio nearby. The other ladies helping you paint went frantic.

"The war is over!"

"The troops are coming home!"

"No more war!"

You were stunned, the paintbrush still tight in your hand.

"(Y/n)! Aren't you excited, your lover boy is coming home!" That comment caught you, and the rest of the day, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

You called Sid the second you got home, questions flying from our lips. When do you think Gene would be home? Do you think he'll come straight home? You also told him to ask Mary what you should wear to the train station. He only laughed and said, "Slow down speedy, I don't know the answer to every question you've got now. We'll just have to hear from Gene first, he can answer more than I can. He might be rounded up for some cleanup work, so it could be another few months, but Mary said she'd come over tomorrow to help you find something."

Turns out a few months ended up being six before you finally got word from Eugene that he'd be home soon. You were ecstatic, well that was more of an understatement. Your mood improved, your smile brightened, and your heart ached less knowing Eugene would be returning home, alive. The exact date of Eugene's arrival was kept strictly between him and Sid, Eugene said he wanted it to be a surprise, which you hated. That boy was going to be the death of you as if he hadn't caused you any heart troubles already. Awaiting Eugene's arrival you tried to keep yourself busy instead of just staring out the window all day, and Eugene's mother was a huge help. It was currently a cool fall evening, you were at the Sledge household helping Mrs. Sledge do some cleaning. She was inside washing some of her glass plates and cups that she had on display in the dining room, and you were outside hanging freshly washed bedsheets, curtains, and other linens. Humming to yourself lightly, you hung up a bedsheet. The soft fabric flowing in the wind as you pinned the corners to the clothesline.

"(Y/N), dear! You have a visitor, I'm sending them out to you," Mary Frank's voice rang out from the back steps. You didn't bother shouting out a response, not wanting to try and yell across the yard. It was probably either Mary Houston or Sidney. Anytime they couldn't find you or get ahold of you, they always came here. You hang up the last sheet in your basket and smooth it out before you finally lookup. Your heart stops, and you freeze in your place. Through the sheets floating in the wind, you catch a glimpse of dark green moving towards you. Maybe I'm just seeing things, you thought.

"Gene," your voice is barely above a whisper, the words struggling to come out. The wind blows harder this time, the sheets floating through the air almost horizontal this time, and that's when you see all of him. The black shoes, the dark green pants, and coat, with a hat to match. He looks so different but just the same, all at the same time. His skin is tan, his shoulders are broader, and he stands taller than before. He makes his way to you, your breathing uneven, your hands shaking. Please don't be a dream, if it is, so help me God. Eugene stands a few feet from you now, that smile that you love so much appearing on his lips. You didn't think your heart could beat any quicker, but, oh boy, weren't you wrong.

"My mother tells me that I'd be able to find the prettiest girl in Mobile out here, you wouldn't happen to know her would ya?"

His voice was slightly deeper, rougher but it sends waves of comfort through you. A smile broke out on your face, a faint blush covering your cheeks. Before you knew it, your body lurched towards Eugene's and you had wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eugene gently pulled your head from his neck, using his thumbs to wipe the tears. "Don't waste those tears on me, I'm home now. You don't have to worry anymore darlin'."

"Ya know, Mitch Haygood kept asking me on a date at least once a month while you were gone, he made the mistake of catching me out with your mother about six months ago. Let's just say, he never asked again," you both broke out into giggles, both knowing how Eugene's mother can be.

"I'm glad she handled it so I wouldn't have to go give him a talking to when I got back. Can't have anyone stealing my girl when I'm away," Eugene replied looking down at you. He simply held you there after he spoke, just looking at you. His hands were cupped around your cheeks and jaw, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Your hands grip at the uniform cinched at his waist. His tongue reached out to quickly swipe across his lips. You hadn't kissed those lips in four years, and if you didn't soon you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

"You better kiss me, Eugene Sledge, before I go calling Mitch Haygood."

With a crack of that beautiful smile and a small rumble in his chest, Eugene replied, "Don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart."

[sirro85-blog]

Humans are Space Orcs: Loyalty

"Humans will pack bond with anything" is not true.

I am Professor Gleax and studying the humans has been my life's work, I have spent time with them in war and in peace in simple and in interesting times. To borrow from one of earth's great thinkers; others have studied humans and given me guidance, while my 30'000 volumes are intended to be exhaustive, I am standing on the shoulders of giants.

Humans can pack bond with anything animate, sentient or otherwise but this doesn't mean they will. My time observing Major Kovac one time soldier in the United Nations Galactic Defence Force and part time mercenary taught me this.

I had followed Kovac to earth's 2nd joint species settlement, Terrans and Votoli the humans called them "wombats" due to their similar appearance to earth's species of that name although Kovac always maintained that they looked more like small camels to him. Votoli lived in colonies with a queen similar to earth's insects but lacked the hive mind instead using various musks to coordinate the colony's activities.

It had not been a happy start to the settlement with issues regarding resource sharing and unfortunate accidents resulting in some early deaths but after 2 orbits the settlement appeared to be running smoothly. Until the Rhul settlement established itself on a nearby continent.

From what Kovac was able to uncover later the Votoli took unilateral decision to sabotage the settlement and the humans unaware of Votoli actions were hostile when accused of subterfuge by irate Go-Rhul (low rank pack leaders).

There were several skirmishes and hostilities seemed to escalate at every parlé, until a human outpost was overrun and the occupants all killed.

Major Kovac was dispatched with his squadron at full compliment, 3 troops of combat specialists and a 3rd auxiliary troop of support troops. The UNGC gave him full licence to resolve the issue, the Rhul afterall were known to be hostile to humans at times. Rhul internal politics meant that the Dote-Sim-Rhul that commanded the settlement was unlikely to be able to expect support from the Rhul homeworld.

Initially I thought the Major would resolve the conflict peacefully without needing the power of the human military machine. Sadly another outpost was overrun and the Votoli lost troops aswell and things spiralled out of hand

"We need to close the western defences Major," chittered the Votoli commander, while the Votoli were nominally in command of their own troops and positions the human warrior tendencies and the Major's reputation meant the human leader was in overall command.

"No, Wolf will have hit that position hard and extricating his men will be a challenge, when they get back his men will be tired and nothing can slow down their achieving safety."

"I doubt your men are left alive Major, a single troop can't capture that position as you admitted yourself and humans cannot outrun a Rhul, those hunting your men will be led by a Go, if not a Stad or even a Finn. A fighting withdrawal over 10 of earth's kilometres will see the last of the survivors run down." The Votoli gave a squirt of annoyance, the odour assailed my scent receptors.

"No, the Captain will have inflicted maximum casualties and as the Stad tried to respond would have targeted the communications, this will lead to a Finn pack being deployed and the men of 1 Troop will have been pushed to hold position initially, now Wolf will be leading his men back at a run, a Chet may have been foolish enough to pursue headlong but a Finn will be wise enough not to push too hard after humans, especially after Wolf has left them a few...gifts."

"I don't see how 30 humans can hold back a Finn pack..." began the Votoli.

"I know you don't," Kovac cut across him, "No more than you can see how 120 humans are enough to win this war we are encumbered in. Have faith commander," I have to admit I agreed with the Votoli, 30 humans even as good as Kovac's would not withstand an onslaught by near 200 Rhul warriors, I believed my friend Wolf was dead.

The Votoli squirted in anger and declared, "your men are dead!"

"They aren't," came the laconic reply.

"You're so sure, what is this? Blind loyalty?" Sneered the Votoli, literally dripping with derision.

For the first time the Major turned to look at his ally, "it's not blind."

A few moments later a shout went up from a lookout, human soldiers sighted, within minutes they were visible to the commanders, the Finn must have realised his quarry had nearly escaped him because he drove his pack forward harder, the humans were 500m from safety when the Rhul were less than 25 from them, Captain Wolf had his men find cover and turn their rifles on their fast approaching enemy.

I thought the Major would order the defences raised as he raised his radio to his lips and said, "Captain Dorman, if you would, Gillie, light them up."

The Finn-Rhul seemed to realise his error as the jaws of the trap snapped shut, mortar and heavy support fire rained in from Captain Gillespie's auxiliary unit as Captain Dorman signalled his men to open fire, bullets tore into the Rhul from three sides as explosives rained in from above. Less than half a dozen Rhul were seen to limp from the killing zone and while the Votoli were eager to pursue them they lost their desire when the humans would not assist them.

"Well done Wolf, your men were superb," Kovac shook his Captain's hand. "Thank you sir, need to report three casualties...I'm sorry sir."

Kovac bowed his head for a moment and gave a heavy sigh, "Thank you Captain."

3 planetary rotations later the Major was in communication with the Rhul, "I've already destroyed at least 1/3 of your forces, I suspect more than that, please return to the negotiations, we can make decisions that benefit us all"

The response was less than positive but the Major seemed to lose his temper when the Votoli liaison cut across the broadcast, "surrender!" She chirruped, "surrender or my humans will destroy you." The Major ended the communications link.

Captains Dorman and Becca reported incidents to the Major when Votoli troops seemed to break rules of engagement to inflict non-military losses on the Rhul.

The Major lead a daring raid into enemy territory and successfully destroyed the Rhul communications array, they captured the final two Stad-Rhul pack leaders of similar rank to the Major himself. The Votoli at this point had refused to accompany the humans but were acting as the defence force manning positions. When Captain Becca confronted them on this the Votoli insisted that the humans were asking too much and went so far as to blame the humans for the conflict.

The only setback was when Captain Dorman's 3 troop were unsuccessful in their attempt to capture the Rhul logistics HQ, while casualties were low it left 1/3 of the Major's combat troops exposed for several planetary days.

In many cultures my own included failure to complete an order would result in loss of command and punishment, however as the Major explained to me, "It was a near impossible task, I don't love my men because they always succeed I love them because they always try."

As the seasons changed to colder & wetter relations with the humans and Votoli broke, the humans it seemed could do no right in the eyes of the "Wombats" every victory was expected and every set back was the fault of the human forces, the Rhul were now besieged and the Major had resolved to seek peace one more time before the war reached its violent and dreadful conclusion.

This time no Votoli were invited to the meeting, even I was asked to remain outside, whatever was agreed the next event was the human forces withdrawal to their own defensive perimeter and the release of Rhul prisoners.

"You're incompetent," railed the Votoli bureaucrat at the Major, "you've given up all our hard won land and sacrificed all the advantages we had achieved." The creature appeared to have greater control of it's scent valves than most and gave less away, "everytime we look to be achieving our goal your foolishness costs us, if it hadn't been for Votoli..."

The Major appeared to lose his temper and raised his hand, "If it hadn't been for the Votoli? Do not tell me what would be the situation if it were not for our allies."

The Major dismissed the Votoli with a gesture and the creature lost it's control letting out a stream of rage, the Major had already departed.

"About as subtle as a shotgun, as manipulative as my old dad," muttered Captain Becca falling in with her commander.

Within a week the Rhul had broken through the Votoli containment and were on the offensive. No human position was attacked and no form of aggression was seen by either side.

By the second week the Votoli had been routed and only their military command post remained intact, though heavily damaged.

"You're our allies, you're pack bonded, you're supposed to protect us from this, you have to help us," wailed the Votoli high commander through the communications link.

"We were allies, you took advantage of our nature, you took advantage of who we are and exploited the best of us, we who will help anyone regardless of race and will stand shoulder to shoulder with our friends in the face of obliteration, you used us as any bully uses people, you're cowards and thugs and I will not weep at your passing." Was the Major's cold reply.

Humans will pack bond with anything and they will show a trust in their friends beyond reason, they forgive and forget and they will give their last for their own but never assume they'll let that be taken for granted.

If you ever find one ask the Votoli what happens when human friendship is taken for granted, or human love is abused.

[punkscowardschampions]

Sick Kids

gotspoons: [A chatroom/forum situation for teens with invisible illnesses/disabilities, a resource that is recommended when you can't go to IRL groups for your health/they aren't in your area etc] gotspoons: Ticked one whole thing off my to-do list today, feeling like a champ 💪 also feeling like a 2-hour long nap, who here relates? 🥱 tigerbalm: 🖐 took my nap earlier & yet 😴💤 brainpain: 💕🛏 brainpain: long lasting relationship with my memory foam mattress gotspoons: There is NO limit on the number of naps necessary to make it through the day tigerbalm: or the number of abandoned to-do lists, what was your 1 thing? gotspoons: 🚿 looks like breakfast will have to wait tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: @brainpain I have so many memory foam pillows in every room of my house I'm basically a shareholder 🙌 brainpain: @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously same but I've got my fave, I call him Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👏🙏 thank you for your service, Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: must name mine, only named the chariot 🦼 Charlton gotspoons: [ihatemyguts has entered the chat] gotspoons: A newbie, welcome! tigerbalm: 👋 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: love the username, what ails ya? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: because this is the only place it's acceptable to ask 'what's WRONG with you?' but not the only place you encounter it, right brainpain: but you don't have to answer cos it's also somewhere where you're encouraged to 'express yourself' translation: be an arsehole if you want brainpain: if you don't go hardcore enough to get blocked brainpain: @fibrofog LMAO tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: the normies get to be rude as their default, and it is NOT encouraged to hit people with your cane, let me tell you ihatemyguts: Hi, everyone ihatemyguts: I'll do my best not to be an arsehole, even if my problem only lie directly above said orifice, which makes it a struggle not to be at times ihatemyguts: UC, first flare totally fucked over the family holiday 😬 sorry to that hotel toilet and my long-suffering parents and brother brainpain: newbie got jokes AND comedy timing ihatemyguts: 🚽 humour isn't all I have, I swear, though my life now does revolve entirely around the porcelain throne so it's no surprise I'm anally expulsive, thanks to Freud for that read tigerbalm: Freud's the perv, am I right? ihatemyguts: Totally ihatemyguts: and a big believer in the cocaine cure-all, which my Doctor just wasn't going for, shame tigerbalm: sounds like my sleazy uncle in every way tigerbalm: why does everybody get one? gotspoons: 😂 This chat is worth keeping my eyes open for gotspoons: every family is a play, and we're destined to be the 'sick kid' part gotspoons: other players react accordingly, from the 'can't look at you without crying' to the 'thinks you're making it up for some reason' brainpain: I vote we all go off script like @fibrofog 🤬🚨👿❗️ ihatemyguts: I guess I'm lucky in the sense that if anyone doubts the legitimacy of my illness, I can offer to show them the contents of my stomach/toilet bowl ihatemyguts: that shuts them up relatively fast, not had to go full 🐒 and throw it at anyone yet ihatemyguts: though I'm intrigued by the infamous @fibrofog, who are they, where, and why the infamy? Fill a girl in brainpain: the myth, the legend brainpain: so angry cos I turned 'em down for a romantic rendezvous ihatemyguts: No way! ihatemyguts: I'm glad that napping isn't the only action the memory foam is getting ihatemyguts: we're just like any other teens, right guys? 💁 tigerbalm: @brainpain you know the rules, fedora pics or it didn't happen! tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: you know what they say about disabled chicks, grateful 😉 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: #dontkillmeladies #iamnotasleazyuncle tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: don't think Mr. Fog was even a legit 🥄 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: total predator tigerbalm: if it was my uncle I'm SO sorry 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: family who piggyback are THE worst tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: no, MY disability doesn't make YOU automatically WOKE for not drowning me in the tub or throwing me off the nearest high place I can access ihatemyguts: Honestly, I've never felt as simultaneously popular and unpopular in my life ihatemyguts: people 💬 a big acceptance game on the socials ihatemyguts: but no one wants to actually hang with the girl who can't eat shit and will spend half her time in the 🚽 gotspoons: Everyone's supportive until your disability gets in the way of THEIR perfect life even slightly gotspoons: imagine if they were one of us 👽 brainpain: speak for yourselves, my slurred speech makes me a hit with all my hard partying peers brainpain: get weird without a 🍹 ihatemyguts: hey man, don't let us drag you down 😎 ihatemyguts: if @fibrofog was feeling you, you're WAY too cool for this chat right now brainpain: never have, never will, baby 😉 brainpain: [inandout has entered the chat] gotspoons: OH MY GOD, that's a whole different story...my parents = you need to socialize more, live life! my parents = I don't know if this group is good for you, we think you're being encouraged to display and give in to even more problems gotspoons: thanks guys, you're literally making me more disabled with your disabledness 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It is a cult, well-known fact, leave your productiveness to society at the door and let's all lie here and feel sorry for ourselves, doesn't that sound like fun, kids? 😈 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and 👋 sup, inandout, not seen you in a while tigerbalm: my parents act like y'all are catching too! Would you like to cage me like a legit 🐅 or? inandout: baited breath inandout: out living that life like @gotspoons parents want tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It'll be the Olympics next tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🥇 Hero status with the normies, inspirational, dude inandout: if it'll make adults I've never met proud of me ihatemyguts: I can't believe I've not checked if I'm disabled enough for the paras, oh my God ihatemyguts: are there enough of us for a basketball team? brainpain: if ONLY my former lover were here brainpain: he's gotta be so tall ihatemyguts: Pining for @fibrofog is productive, yeah? ihatemyguts: can pine from my throne just fine brainpain: hands off newbie! I will throw mine brainpain: LOL imagine gotspoons: This group has always had a bias towards too many girls gotspoons: it's almost as if even disabled boys don't wanna talk about their feelings gotspoons: what say you @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously and @inandout? 🤔🤴🤴 inandout: I'd bring friends but you know us CF kids aren't allowed to congregate inandout: and what could I possibly have in common with someone who doesn't share my disease ihatemyguts: So, what is the deal with that, are some of us catching? ihatemyguts: 🐅 parents might have legit concerns inandout: cross infectious but only if you've got what's got me inandout: none of you do so you'll need another reason to turn down hanging out in person tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: my fedora is in the wash? inandout: Fibro could easily say it's my jewishness brainpain: but it's your hunkiness, babe 💪😉 inandout: I'd whistle back at you, Lauren but.... inandout: let's just say you leave me breathless tigerbalm: No names, Zach tigerbalm: it's like a rule ihatemyguts: uh-oh ihatemyguts: if you had a name, Tiger, in theory, like ihatemyguts: 🧐 tigerbalm: Robyn ihatemyguts: Pretty, you others may as well just come out with it now ihatemyguts: even if I'm a massive perv with mad hacking and tracking skills, I pinky promise I won't be able to find you from your given name alone brainpain: give us yours, newbie ihatemyguts: I will, but you'll think I'm giving you a fake one ihatemyguts: it's the gift and curse bestowed upon me at birth, along with potentially dodgy genetics brainpain: your life is 💩 brainpain: but still ihatemyguts: Zelda ihatemyguts: a reference I'm sure you won't get, 'cos you're so 😎 brainpain: I game, the stream was fibros fave hunting ground brainpain: no 💩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Turns out being a nerd is way easy from the relative (barely but beats death, yeah?) comfort of the memory foam tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and Rich 👍 only in name, destitute until my next pittance comes in tigerbalm: she's not supposed to 🎮 -headaches -dizziness -light & sound sensitivity but she's a REBEL brainpain: 👌 MOM maybe I'd love a seizure, what do you know? ihatemyguts: I respect it ihatemyguts: gonna be fondly reminiscing over all those dirty, evil trigger foods when they're resecting my bowel 🖕🚔 brainpain: I had a life before I had a TBI, no offense to 👶 Zach inandout: none taken gotspoons: You're all being bad and I cannot support it 🤐😜 gotspoons: and I'm Rosie, I will just 😴 out on you all the time and yes, it's a fantastic excuse for when you don't wanna respond ihatemyguts: I'll commit all of those to memory in a normal, non-creepy manner ihatemyguts: but whilst I'm allowed to be a n00b, what do you all do for school? brainpain: I was nearly done before 🤯 which got me my pity pass ihatemyguts: pity with a point, at least, alright tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm waiting to start uni, absolutely no thanks to my school and their totally ableist refusal to make reasonable adjustments for accessibility tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but fedora or not, I can be a real arsehole, a loud, persistent one at that tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: take my applause now brainpain: 😍 brainpain: take my 💘 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: as long as it's not heavy, m'lady brainpain: you could 💔 brainpain: hold the pieces tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🧠 just isn't poetic enough brainpain: you know me gotspoons: you guys are so cute 🥰 and your broken brain is beautiful, Lauren gotspoons: me though, I'm barely struggling through school still, so many sick days, so much catching up to do 🥱 just thinking about it and therein lies the problem tigerbalm: my parents are trying to get online classes set up but my headteacher is like a million years old inandout: is he a demon? inandout: that was some scary fiction brainpain: or was it? brainpain: cue up those sound effects tigerbalm: if we're gonna talk about hypnosis, I'm out ihatemyguts: that was some serious creepy uncle vibes ihatemyguts: why did he need that level of control ihatemyguts: 🐘 in the room tigerbalm: I have a hippie cousin too, alternative therapy talk is so triggering ihatemyguts: I need a memoir re. your family sitch immediately 😂 ihatemyguts: you get the food purists coming @ me as if I just eat the right thing I'd be 'cured' tigerbalm: I'm working on a screenplay but I've never written a script before, I did find an online class for that easily though ihatemyguts: that's actually 😎 ihatemyguts: soz, Lauren brainpain: she's our lil busy 🐝 brainpain: step your game up, Zachary brainpain: supposed to be you, bro inandout: let Robbie have it, she has more sick days to fill up ihatemyguts: always have your 🥇 inandout: I can pin it on like a star when I got to school with the masses inandout: let them know I'm not what normal looks like ihatemyguts: only the others like you need to have the scoop on that though ihatemyguts: really fucks with the segregation in a big way inandout: “I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.” ihatemyguts: Tattoo idea inandout: if I make it to 18, I'll do it ihatemyguts: how long you given yourself there? inandout: I turned 14 in may, the party was a full blown rager inandout: 🏥🎂 ihatemyguts: you like ruining events too? ihatemyguts: what a coincidence, don't just do family holidays inandout: if I can't blow up 🎈 nobody can ihatemyguts: 🥳 smug bastard inandout: I find that party blower offensive inandout: Rosie! That's a strike for the new girl ihatemyguts: Come to me when it's as culturally iconic as 💩 ihatemyguts: my next (first) tattoo right there inandout: how long are you waiting for that masterpiece? ihatemyguts: was 14 in March ihatemyguts: if we both make it, it's a date inandout: cool inandout: way I'm going that'll be my first one brainpain: now I feel like a pervy OLD uncle brainpain: thank you 👶s ihatemyguts: Lemme guess? ihatemyguts: I'm thinking 19 brainpain: spooky brainpain: I'm an Aquarius if anyone cares ihatemyguts: our 🌟s aligning might be too close to alternative for comfort tigerbalm: I'm a cancer, which is awkward tigerbalm: not my diagnosis ihatemyguts: at least it's memorable ihatemyguts: literally tacked on at the end, who's remembering 🎣 tigerbalm: I hope my 16th will be, for the right reasons tigerbalm: I've still got 5 months left to plan ihatemyguts: 🤞🤞🤞 tigerbalm: I'll add your name, the others know they're all invited ihatemyguts: that's so nice ihatemyguts: considering this introduction has given away nothing if not I am a terrible guest brainpain: another chat about online safety, Robyn, REALLY? 😏 brainpain: did my failed romance teach you nothing? ihatemyguts: if that isn't a challenge to send a photo and make you feel really weird ihatemyguts: why are we anon anyway, to stop us uprising? ihatemyguts: metaphorically if not literally, no offense xoxo brainpain: f it brainpain: I need you all to sign up to my stream to pay my bills anyways brainpain: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: @fibrofog, I get it brainpain: don't flock to tell me how sexy I am, that'd make it weird brainpain: plus, I know tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I picked an awkward time to check back in tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Rosie falls asleep and anarchy reigns? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm proud brainpain: 💔 YOU haven't showered me with compliments, but hey tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: if I made it that easy you'd never be 💘 brainpain: 😩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: to save any of the rest of you following such a hard act tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: [pic] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it's old but still a rough estimation of what I look like on a good day brainpain: 😍 brainpain: You're up, girl Z ihatemyguts: if you're all good looking though, I'm so mad ihatemyguts: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: 💩 inandout: I'm not good looking, I'll go next inandout: besides, Robbie would never bow to peer pressure and Rosie is out for the count inandout: [a selfie] tigerbalm: I am 🙀 tigerbalm: but everyone else has tigerbalm: [the shyest selfie of all time] ihatemyguts: 😻😻😻 ihatemyguts: seriously ihatemyguts: representation done us dirty on so many levels now ihatemyguts: when we're not invisible, why we not so gorgeous tigerbalm: there should be a blushing 😸 tigerbalm: that's the representation I need ihatemyguts: Call me out all you need but I was convinced this whole thing would be a lot more tragic than it has been inandout: tragic Tuesdays are a thing brainpain: no they are f-ing not brainpain: Zachary, just cos the new girl's in your age bracket + shares your 1st initial brainpain: she is not corruptible to you inandout: check us on our date, Lauren inandout: but watch your profanity brainpain: watch me give you a DIY lung transplant gotspoons: Excuse me gotspoons: what is going on here brainpain: nothing babe, it's all a dream gotspoons: 😖 gotspoons: if it was, none of you would be here gotspoons: sorry to say brainpain: we love you too brainpain: hit us with that sleepy selfie gotspoons: You know we aren't meant to give out personal info in the public forum gotspoons: if you choose to privately, that's okay though gotspoons: also I don't look any better for my shower now 🥴🤫 brainpain: you're a hottie gotspoons: 😘 gotspoons: well, my blog IS going to be featured on [insert disability awareness news moment] next month, so it isn't as if you couldn't find 🖼 if you really wanted gotspoons: [photo] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Congrats, Ro tigerbalm: a genuine 👏👏👏 tigerbalm: I love your blog gotspoons: Ty, ty 🙇 gotspoons: it's the same as my username, if you wanna check it out, newbie 😄 brainpain: but have you been on the news for being the victim of a violent crime? 😏 just me LOL inandout: Lauren's trading on her fame again inandout: let Rosie have her moment ihatemyguts: pass along all relevant info and I'll 🤓 right up brainpain: @inandout 🍒😃💩👅 brainpain: enjoy the profanity, bro inandout: today's highlight tigerbalm: Zelda could take offence at that, Zach tigerbalm: I think it was nice to meet her ihatemyguts: Not at all ihatemyguts: though it's cultural appropriation to use that emoji without my permission, I'll let it slide 😉 ihatemyguts: nice meeting you all too tigerbalm: I really am gonna have to tell you about my family now ihatemyguts: All I wanted, tbh tigerbalm: everyone else knows this but my parents are white Americans & they adopted me and my brothers who are Native and African American respectively tigerbalm: & you saw me, the Korean girl so ihatemyguts: Ohh tigerbalm: it sounds like a show that should air on ABC family, right? tigerbalm: hella awkward ihatemyguts: I'm brainstorming (p. sure we're not meant to say that, soz) titles rn ihatemyguts: inappropriate question alert, verbal smackdowns appreciated if needed ihatemyguts: did they adopt you knowing you were disabled or is that a new development? tigerbalm: I was gonna call it building bridges but we can't really say that the USA has wronged Korea like the other nations tigerbalm: though they did adopt me knowing so maybe it still works 😄 ihatemyguts: it's got legs tigerbalm: 🦿 ihatemyguts: Ugh, must dash ihatemyguts: 🩸💉s tigerbalm: best of luck ihatemyguts: 💕 total pro by now 💪 brainpain: if I don't 👀 you on my stream I'll 🔎 you here in the forums inandout: a threatening goodbye inandout: can't compete tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👋 Hope to see you back here, Zelda tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: though you wouldn't be the first person to 👻 after dropping in, so no pressure, @Lauren gotspoons: but actually, we're always here, some of us more than others, but you'll always find someone to chat to about the things you can't with non-spoonies ihatemyguts: ✌