#so if there's no cut then like... shitty phone tumblr is why

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?�� Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[sanzaibian]

Oh. You’re here once again.

What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?

To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.

I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !

See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !

I’m not supposed to become someone like this :

I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !

Or like that :

Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !

Or that guy :

His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !

Or even this guy !

… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !

Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !

However, today, it all changes.

Today, you will understand my plight.

Today, I’ll transform you for a change.

Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.

So, let us begin.

BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?

… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”

You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.

Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !

There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !

Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.

Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.

Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.

Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.

BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.

Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?

Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !

… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !

Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.

So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).

Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !

However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.

Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)

By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !

Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !

This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !

Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !

I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.

BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !

Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.

All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !

… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…

NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.

Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.

Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…

… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?

What are you holding out for me ?

...

I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.

================================================

By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !

[tossyouforedinburgh]

I wrote something and it didn't really seem long enough to post on ao3 but like... vaguely adult content I guess? I've still not figured how that works (or doesn't) on Tumblr. so have it under the cut. short ineffable phonecall about wall slams

"are you on your way?" Aziraphale asked cheerfully down the phone by way of hello. 

"oh. er. Angel, look, I've had a really shitty day, I think I'm going to stay in my flat and watch shitty TV until I fall into a shitty sleep. I think there's a new series of Love Island on." 

Aziraphale had no idea what that was but he didn't think it sounded like particularly good viewing. "if you're going to wallow and sulk, you can do it at mine. I've got wine, and you can tell me about your awful day and I can make very sympathetic noises." 

"no. I would be extremely poor company." Crowley made a point of switching on the TV and turning it up loud enough it could be heard through the phone. 

"oh I've been tolerating your moods for thousands of years," Aziraphale replied airily. 

"Angel." Crowley gritted his teeth. "I am trying. to tell you. that I don't WANT. to take my bad mood out. on you." 

the pause that followed was unreasonably long. Crowley felt his layers of irritation grow; he was trying to do a considerate thing, trying to grow as a person. if Aziraphale didn't appreciate his efforts he could go stick it. and if he didn't stop being so difficult he was going to find out exactly where in some graphic detail.

"but..." Aziraphale began awkwardly. "I rather think the angelic thing to do would be to absorb your bad mood for you. if you let it fester out into the world, that would be terrible, wouldn't it? but I, well I am a creature of, of love and such like, you couldn't harm me by being grumpy." 

this was utter bullshit and it made Crowley's teeth itch. what the fuck was he doing now? was he actually angling for Crowley to snap at him? 

"I don't mind. I could leave all the doors ajar so you could slam them. I... I'll stand near the wall so you can pin me up against it." 

there was another intense silence, but this time it was Crowley's doing. oh, he was. he was deliberately goading him into this. why would the angel want to be roughed up? completely unwanted, a voice whispered into Crowley's brain: maybe he's into that. angels aren't into that sort of thing, Crowley hissed back in his thoughts. and definitely, absolutely, neither am I. 

"I think it would make you feel better," Aziraphale added very quietly. 

Crowley remembered the last time he had done that very thing; in Tadfield, in an ex Satanic nunnery. he'd pressed his hips up against Aziraphale, just to hold him in place of course, and he'd briefly thought, and then thought it was ridiculous, that the angel might just have had an erection at the time. angels definitely don't get erections from being roughed up in Satanic nunneries. 

"just to be clear," Crowley said, and he'd already switched off the TV and picked up his car keys, "are you doing this to be self sacrificing or because you're... you're..." oh Jesus Christ, Mary, Joseph and a stable full of donkeys, he was actually going to say this out loud because if he didn't say it out loud he was going to spontaneously discorporate. "because you're... getting off on it?" 

there was a very guilty silence. eventually, Aziraphale replied, "are you judging me?" 

"yes. massively. hugely." 

"only I did rather think that time in Tadfield that you definitely got hard holding me against that wall." 

the sound of the Bentley roaring to life rattled out of Aziraphale's old rotary telephone. Freddie Mercury launched into Tie Your Mother Down. "Angel, I'll see you in five minutes. think of something incredibly irritating to say to me as a greeting." and with that Crowley hung up the phone and put his foot down.

[iicheeze]

BOWL CUT'S FAMILY

birth giver || Raiden Ei

Kabukimono's mom

retired Sensei of Raiden Martial Group

horrible cook

but also kicked out Kabukimono out of the household when he reached 17 because uh

he was an accident

Yae suggested Ei to abandon him without him knowing but thought of it as too cruel so instead she just kicks him out when he's at an appropriate age

ye

anyways uh

uses flip-phones too much to the point that she gets confused when she was given an actual, newer phone brand on why there's no keyboard

never gets contacted by Kabukimono anymore

for a valid reason tbh

birth giver's shitty wife || Yae Miko

a menace

never liked Kabukimono

never liked any of Ei's children tbh

the only person allowed to cook in the Raiden household

CEO of Yae Publishing Inc. (also chief editor of it, very judgemental too)

did i say she's a menace?

she is.

both at work and at home

even tho she doesn't like Kabukimono, she sometimes contacts him for a spa date

does Scara answer?

no

but he still comes anyways

birth giver's abandoned daughter || Raiden Senshi

The new Sensei of Raiden Martial Group

Raiden Martial Group basically teaches all kinds of Japanese Self Defense, Swordsmanship, Bowmanship, etc.

very skilled in Martial Arts, Kenjutsu (Japanese Swordsmanship), Naginatajutsu, and more

a very strict teacher

if you want to hire her as a mentor, you're practically asking for torture

merciless as HELLL

if she breaks your bone and you whine to her about it, she'd basically just stand there and go

" weakling! "

and say that you haven't trained enough

is she still in contact with the Raiden family?

kinda

but she's just

yk

there

scara doesnt like her, says that she's like a living robot with no personality

is also the youngest sibling of the Raiden family

Aunty Makoto || Raiden Makoto

Ei's twin sister that's actually sane in the family

a humble doctor

lives in a different house than the Raiden family

when she was informed that Kabukimono was kicked out, she called him to see if he's alright and offered him to stay in her home for a while until he gets his life back up.

the only reason why scara is alive back then tbh

is still in contact with Scara

basically while Kabukimono was staying with her, she taught him all kinds of stuff to do to help her around the house

all his househusband skills are taught by her

shout out to Aunty Makoto fr

TAGLIST || @stellakito @crueldinasty @hysteriablues @hoesaria @dreamsofminnie @caffeine-mess @alatusorrow @lunaeclipsethesimp @lxkeeeee @myaaones @withloveminnie @shewolfniko @aeongiies @qwnelisa @liliumaraneae @candlebathwater @seirin-eyy @feiherp @nxsh30 @loivre @imdeadlyboredhelp @hotgirlshit5 @worldhardtibbysoft @mitsu-moshi @mono1606 @zomzomb1e @vvyeislazzy @crucnhice @omlxlaure @iethairs

@ownedbythescribe @mishtae @aloflapse @divinechicha @thefandomcrow @d4y-dr3am3r @tjjjrsj @certaindreampost @minninr @angelkazusstuff @zyilas @lumpywolf @haruaikawa @xiaosonlybeloved @reconaiise @yuyan @myoreiii @lordbugs @theaudacitiedmentose @scaravibe @exphhoria @venusflwers @ohmyfinggod @niyaiiz

BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU! IF THERE'S ANY CHANGE TO YOUR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME!

SUMMARY II in which, a sassy and bitter househusband, and his beloved, idiotic streamer of a lover got married! what a lovely occasion. now, for the married life in a newer, and bigger apartment.

PAIRINGS || Househusband Scaramouche x Gaming Streamer GN Reader

MASTERLIST || IDIOT GAMER!

FUN FACT !

yeo is tired of typing yalls usernames

yall r very thirsty and they can see that

but since yall like it they still wanna type the rest of the usernames that still wanna be tagged but tumblr cant allow them to mention more than 50 ppl <//33333

until repost is allowed

HEHEHEHHEHEHE

[serickswrites]

could you add me to the tag list for Eyes Like Fire? also, how to you organize all of your WIPs and tag lists? i can barely keep my few WIPs untangled in my head

- @eyehartart

Hello, friend! I absolutely can add you!

Ok, so the tag list is the easy part because I only tag people who reblog, comment, or reply to a post (the likes are just beyond my brain at this time), and of course if people message or send an ask for me to add them. As for how I organize all my WIP, it's a really shitty system, but I have a notebook that I put all the stories I want to continue in. I put one per page and I put the general plot (like how many parts, what happens in each part) and then when I'm ready to write it, I put it on a word doc (or sometimes they sit in my drafts on tumblr depending on my mood). My notebook is a bit of a monster right now because I have filled it, so I have loose pieces of paper, post its, and notebook paper jammed in it because I refuse to get a new notebook to fill until I finish writing all the pieces in it. I used to have multiple notebooks at a time, but that was really stressful. I highlight a story once it's completely written and I put paperclips on the top of the pages that still need to be written.

I also keep notes on my phone because if the idea strikes and I don't have my notebook with me I have to write it down somewhere. It's really not a good system, but it works for my brain. I continue pieces on request, or if I see that it's getting good traction and I wouldn't mind continuing it. More often than not though, when I post a piece, I already know (and have likely plotted) that it has multiple parts--usually because I envision the ending and have to work backwards.

I hope this answered your questions! In the mean time, please enjoy another 'Eyes Like Fire', which, fwiw, is actually not fully plotted. I am lowkey pantsing this one lol

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Warnings: destruction, mayhem, unconsciousness, magic, binding

Villain hadn't moved from where they lay. Hero slowly crept forward. They didn't have any salt, but they couldn't let Villain get up and continue on their rampage. They had to do something.

The demon seemed unconscious, Hero realized as they pulled out their phone. They didn't need salt, but they needed something to bind Villain so they could no longer attack the city.

Hero scrolled until they found a binding spell. They quickly skimmed the spell, reasoning that they would remember it more once they got going.

"I'm not going to let you destroy my home. I'm going to stop you. And send you back to where you came from," Hero muttered as they grabbed the chalk they always kept in their pocket.

The spell was simple, draw a circle of power, draw the binding, say the incantation, and then, boom, demon would be trapped and bound. Hero worked quickly. They couldn't risk the demon waking up. Didn't want to risk. They didn't know why Villain had fainted and they weren't about to question this boon. They just needed to stop the demon.

They stood back to admire their handy work. They had drawn a crude circle around the demon, large enough that they didn't have to get too close--Hero remembered something about their ability to possess different bodies if another body touched their current body. Hero felt bad for whatever person this demon had possessed. Once they bound the demon, they would look up the exorcism spell. One thing at a time.

Hero quickly muttered the spell, they had to do this before the demon woke up. They had to work quickly. Villain groaned as Hero muttered the final word. Villain blinked up at Hero, their eyes glinting with the reflection of fire deep within. Hero had never seen a demon with eyes like fire. "What--" Villain's words suddenly cut off as the magic took its course.

Hero was ready. They had beaten a demon! But as they watched Villain rise and step out of the circle, they realized they had made a mistake. This wasn't a spell that would bind Villain to the circle. This was a spell that bound them to the spell's caster.

"Oh fuck," both Hero and Villain said in unison as they realized what had gone horribly wrong.

Tags: @wankusbonkus@st0rmm@pigeonwhumps @eyehartart

[floralcrematorium]

I don't know if youve answered this before, but what made you come back? I'm not that old in the fandom, maybe half a year and it's so interesting how that fandom changed and how it used to be.

Thanks for the ask! I'm gonna be real with you, it was an accident. This is about to be a loooooooong ass post so I'm putting it beneath the cut:

It happened steadily in July. A very slippery slope.

I left in or around 2018 just because I lost interest. A friend in 7th grade introduced me to it in early 2014. I had been running my Instagram account since Summer of 2014 with my best friend (who at the time had been my partner, and by 2018 we had broken up) and our other friend. We'd all moved on and the account became dead. It wasn't a good account, but we'd amassed 1.1k followers during our tenure. Those were the days of if you wanted to post a comic, there were no Instagram slides. You had to post it all individually. The account was deleted in 2021? I think? 2020?

So come July 2023, I was poking around in my old Google Drive and found some of my old Hetalia stuff. Which included a fic with the aforementioned friends. It uh. Is not good. I reread it and oh boy is it a product of its time (we were probably 13-15 when we wrote it) and it was a 3 way POV that we all wrote with self insert characters. It was basically Heta characters get thrown in the setting of Outlast but with the plot of FNAF. Yeah. So uh. Not much to defend there. I jokingly went to my friends like "Hey, what if we rewrote this but not horrible" and we genuinely thought about it! For a night.

But for me it wasn't one night.

I kept thinking about it.

And one thing led to the next, I was revisiting old Youtube videos I liked and reread a fic I used to like.

I think what really did me in was listening to the character songs again and a couple of hetaloid covers. I was doing artfight and listening only to Hetalia music while I drew.

I genuinely did not really use my normal Tumblr before floralcrematorium came to be. I have an entirely separate account for personal stuff and art (I will not be sharing it) and it got to a point where I was seeking so much Hetalia stuff that I figured, why the fuck not, and eventually made an account. I also eventually made my first A03 account (I was on Wattpad and FFN back in the day) because someone wrote a CanUkr fic where Mattie had overexerted himself and was in the hospital and Katya and Alfred were going to kill him because he kept insisting he could work (I CANNOT FIND THIS FIC AGAIN, I FOUND IT ON TUMBLR ORIGINALLY, PLEASE HELP IF THIS RINGS A BELL!!).

And uh, so here I am!

I draw Hetalia stuff on occasion (I should... draw more considering that's what I went to college for but whatever) and have a couple of ideas for illustration series in my head.

I've got a lot of fic ideas I want to write. I have a literal list on my phone. I think about it in bed, at work, and little things remind me of Hetalia all the time.

I've gotten back into RP (I used to use Shamchat and Kik).

I've met so many cool people and I've been having a wonderful time being back so far. When I was originally in the fandom, I consumed a lot of content, but as far as mutuals went it was just me and my two friends. Meeting so many new people has been absolutely wonderful.

Hetalia is really the only fandom I've been in. I've liked other media and consumed fics/enjoyed art/bought prints (COUGH RWBY), but Hetalia is the only media I've ever had fan accounts for. It's the only media I've so deeply entrenched myself in that I feel comfortable writing fics. My walls used to be covered in Hetalia -- both official wall scrolls and shitty art I'd made myself (I have pictures I can attach at the end of the post). I had... so much merch. When I was 14 I only asked for Hetalia related things for my birthday. Every now and again I get that "am I doing the right thing?" ick because of the negative fandom reputation and reactions I'd get from people when I would admit to having liked Hetalia in the past, but I don't care about that now. Genuinely, fuck that. I like this piece of media whether I want to or not. I'm not going to be a self-hating Hetalia fan like I was in 2018-2021/22. I've come back to the show with completely different... motives? Idk what the right phrase is here -- I'm here to explore the characters of these little freaks (looking at you, Francis), I love all of the fanart I see, I like the exchange of historical and cultural information/resources.

Sure, I'd consider my fandom niche to be humanverse Francis and FACE fam, but I genuinely enjoy exploring outside of my corner of the fandom. I try to spread myself out -- I want to consume everything. I want to be exposed to everything.

Hetalia is one of the single most impactful pieces of media in my life. Without it, I wouldn't have my best friend, who broke up with me for APH Austria in 2015. The friends I ran the Instagram account with and I are all still in contact. I talk to one much more frequently than the other, but they are both so near and dear to my heart and I can't believe that this silly show is what got us to where we are. The youngest of us is about to graduate college a whole year early. I met her when she was 11 and I was 12 or 13? I couldn't be more proud of her, of the three of us, and it's been so fun to have these occasional nights where we (okay, just me) get tipsy and go through old fandom media/watch the dub and go ooooof. I was in a really bad place when I was originally into Hetalia. Coming back now feels like coming full circle.

The old fandom had plenty of its own issues, and the fandom now certainly isn't devoid of issues, but now that the fanbase has shifted to an older audience and I actually have like. Social skills. I love talking to other people. I like creating. I like thinking about these stupid characters before I go to bed.

My single favorite thing about the Hetalia fandom now is the care put into historical work as well as the exploration of portrayals of the characters. Because Hetalia lacks a plot and Hima is constantly retconning things, everyone has their own interpretations of everything. Everyone has their own version of Francis Bonnefoy, Yao Wang, or Alfred F. Jones. And that's so cool!!! You don't see that anywhere else.

I know I'm typically a pessimist on main, but I'm genuinely glad to be back. It's weird to be back. I've had mixed reactions from irl friends that I'm back.

But who the fuck cares?

I'm having fun, I'm making friends, and I can't believe there are still people here.

I genuinely hope I'm here for a while. I have so much I want to write. I want to draw all of the things my skill level was too low for back when I was a teen.

CRINGE IS DEAD AND I AM FREE.

The following images are certainly about to destroy any cool perception anyone has of me, if they even do. I was... certainly a teenager, is all I have to say! I am,,, thankfully not like this anymore. I hope.

Here are those pictures of my bedroom circa 2015 I promised:

DO NOT ASK ME ABOUT THE LIVE LAUGH LOVE.

That drawing of Russia with Neko-Talia Russia? Yeah. Uh. I did that for an art project in the 7th grade for class. I also did a ceramics piece with the mochis, that I've since lost. These images scream "I'm 14 and like Hetalia in 2015."

I used to have little hearts with all the ships I liked in them (I think that's AusHun in the picture on the left?). I also had "I love you" written in like 20 languages on index cards taped above my headboard.

Also a literal timestamp I found in my old emails with the friend who got me into Hetalia:

Being a young teenager in the old fandom certainly,,,, was something. I would not relive that, but by god would I do ANYTHING to get my favorite pieces of fan media back from that time. There was a video called "Hetalia What Did You Do To Panda" which was a bunch of clips from the anime with Katie Herzig's "Hey Na Na" playing in the background. Every now and then a dub audio clip would interject with the song.

I also really miss this one very specific Character Theme Songs video that had Poland in the thumbnail. Mein Gott would play between each song and I could tell you most of the songs that had been assigned to each character.

I would do ANYTHING to get those videos back. I miss them so much.

Anyway, if you read this whole thing, thanks for reading??? I am very Cool And Normal about the things I like, unfortunately. It's nice to come back to Hetalia and like... be a normal person about it.

All I've got to say is, when I like something, I like it a lot.

[starkid256]

yknow i made a post saying if it reached 100 notes id read worm (aka what one of my mutuals' hyperfixations is) and i opened my phone to 136 tumblr notifs and i would be lmfaoing if my mom wasnt such a bitch

she told me today that i had to take my meds even tho i didnt want to. she settled on if i did the majority of the chores today i wouldnt have to take them, so i agreed. but after some consideration, i went back to her to call it off and told her that i just didnt like being told what to do and that i feel that not taking my meds shouldnt be a priveledge to be taken away.

she told me i should have to take my meds every day, so i tried to tell her i dont like being on my meds and was explaining all the reasons why, but she cut me off because she thought I WAS RAMBLING? I WAS JUST TRYING TO EXPLAIN WHY I DONT ENJOY BEING ON MY MEDS!!!

i was trying to say that it doesnt make me happy and that it removes the fun from entertaining myself without personal interaction (such as watching videos) and that when i do take them, i have ab overwhelming urge to create even when i dont want to, but she just ignored all that just to pull out a metaphor.

apparently she recently met this old woman with a 50 yr kid who also didnt like to take his meds and that she was FIGHTING WITH HIM OVER IT?

THEN SHE TRIED TO COMPARE ME TO A DIABETIC WHO CANT HANDLE THAT MUCH SUGAR AND THAT THEY HAVE TO STAY AWAY FROM THE THINGS THEY LIKE SO THAT THEYRE HEALTHY.

AND I TRIED TO EXPLAIN TO HER WHY THAT WAS A SHITTY METAPHOR AND THEN SHE IGNORED ME AND SENT ME OUT OF HER ROOM!!!

I HATE HER SO MUCH!!! SHE THINKS SHES BETTER THAN EVERYONE SO MUCH THAT SHE DOESNT EVEN LISTEN TO ANYONE BECAUSE SHE ALWAYS THINKS SHES RIGHT EVEN THOUGH SHE DOESNT FUCKING HAVE TO TAKE MEDICATION SHE DISLIKES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[seahdalune]

around Summer 2022, i got inspired to make tons of shitty daily art of my thoughts. kinda like a diary.

i never really made too many, since inspiration struck randomly while i was in the middle of summer vacation, and i was pretty busy.

still, the shit i made from that time was.... pretty interesting, to me at least.

i wanted to start making them again, since it was a nice way to warm up, and put my thoughts down.... and, i just liked doing it.

i posted all the original drawings on Twitter, but i decided to post my shit doodles on Tumblr this time. i heard people were better at receiving mental illnesses here.

(don't) Look forward to....

DaLune Whatever Doodles.

(old art under cut, for archival:)

(note: this was all drawn using my old persona, if you're wondering why i look like that. i used to have a hoodie instead of a raccoon mask! still covered up myself just as much tho.)

2022.06.26 (admittedly, i only started making daily shit scribbles because this one got a lot of attention. not even 100, but 20 or something likes. that's still a lot for original work tho. gotta start somewhere.)

2022.06.28 (post is captioned with the following message: "a story writer’s guidebook i have tells me to write down all my ideas or experiences in case i ever need them for brainstorming plots." it's a good idea, but my good ideas come with my shitty thoughts. i can never tell them apart, and it's always tiring to write both down.)

2022.06.30 (this post was captioned with the following message: "the whole “only x% of my viewers” and “subscribe and hit the bell” thing, in my opinion, has ruined the uniqueness of Youtuber intros. i probably should look into smaller Youtubers, but i never see those sword-slash-then-logo type intros. those were cool. bring those back." i agree, Seah.)

2022.07.01

2022.07.02 (i'm still closeted, will be forever. they're not explicitly queerphobic, it's just, just.... Asian parent complications.)

2022.07.03 (i think it was also because i didn't have Discord on my temporary phone)

2022.07.04 (this genuinely happened and it scared the shit out of me. i didn't remember this place being so noisy when i was 5.)

2022.07.05 (after this point, i also learned that most places in Korea don't take cash... aside from convenience stores, but they don't sell strawberry latte there!!!)

2022.07.06 (note: the original caption made on the post said the following: if i wanted no one to know about my deepest darkest secrets then i wouldn’t be posting them on Twitter! classy, Seah, real classy.)

2022.07.07 (i saw a white guy who was bald and i could only think of Walter White. this is revenge on what you USians have done with Squid Games and Korean people, shitheads.)

2022.07.08 (i hate hiking)

[whydousernamesevenexist]

could you give me some advice? i'm sorry to bother you but i don't know who else to ask other than random strangers on tumblr... you can ignore this if you want

so basically a majority of the people ik (my friends, classmates, etc) are toxic as hell. they piss me off so bad, they're the embodiment of cringe culture, yet their humor is being racist, sexist and supporting 🍇. my girl friends act like the entire world revolves around them and talk shit abt people, and my guy friends don't know when to stop.

my father is always angry for no reason and acts like it's never him in the wrong. when i justify myself, he cuts in and yells at me. just recently, my school had a sports day and my father didn't come even though i told him about it. i mentioned back home that some of my friends parents are super nice and he asked why they were there, and i mentioned the sports day. he then started yelling at me because i 'didn't tell her', even though i seriously did. i told my whole family. i told them about how i was excited for the running and the long jump and the handball games, and he forgot and he told me that i was a gaslighter. he's the one i hate the most.

the one person i don't hate talking to is my best friend, my real one. not the one that says she's my best friend and hates me all at the same time. i've told him about my classmates and he gave some pretty solid suggestions, but after my father scolded my a few days ago, and told me i was hiding secrets, i've been scared to talk to him in case they ask to look at the chat and see that yes, i do swear. i know what 🍇 is, and i'm not homophobic and i'm not racist. they'd know i hate them, and hate my 'friends' who have 'done so much for me'

what do i do? i need an outlet for all of these feelings, but any outlet i have, i'd get yelled at for. a personal diary would be read, because 'there shouldn't be anything they aren't allowed to see in there'. my best friend swears and i do too, tumblr has lgbtq+ community (they're homophobic), all socmeds are stained to death with things they shouldn't see.

i don't want to 'stay away' from everyone either. my parents expect me to be always warm, friendly, chatty, smily, and people hate the introverts at my school.

if you decide to respond, please be quick. i have to go soon.

Hello! I'm really sorry this is happening to you. I don't really understand your struggles, because I personally don't have a desire for friendships, but I think I can imagine at least a little how you're feeling.

As for your classmates I have no advice, that is really shitty, and I don't think it can be fixed.

I'm really sorry that your parents are like this, yeah, I can relate. I'm sure you did great on your sports day! For that I unfortunately don't have any advice either, I just act real nice in front of my parents, say "thank you" and "please" and "I'm sorry" after every second word, and I somehow managed to not let them catch me associating with the LGBTQ+ community.

I hope you can reconnect with your best friend soon, it sounds like he really helps you :)

For parents reading your things… yeah, I don't know either. Maybe a burner phone? Though I've never had one, so I don't know, plus you'd have to give away a significant portion of your money, and your parents could notice and question you. Or maybe start learning a new language, so they wouldn't understand you? I really don't know.

I really wish you the best <333

[dear-ex-person]

Dear ex-girlfriend

It’s been exactly four months today at the time of posting since you broke up with me

And yet I still don’t know WHY. Why did you break up with me??

You said “I fell out of love with you”- ever considered that was because of the fucking THREE MONTH LONG BREAK??? WHERE DID YOU GET THAT IDEA FROM ANYWAYS???

Also- you ruined my trip to Japan- a week in the most beautiful place, in peak Sakura season and what did I do? Spent the whole time thinking about you.

AND WHY AM I THE DICKHEAD HERE??? All I ever did was try and be a good girlfriend. Is it my issues?? My fucked up wrists??? The way I project onto characters??? Tell me what I do wrong, I can fix it.

But you said there was nothing to be fixed.

On that day, let’s rewind to what you said.

“I think we should break it off”

I thought I prepared. Our friend group all thought you still loved me. I thought you still loved me. How stupid- oh wait.

You said

“I still love you, just- as a friend.”

No.

And you cried.

As I stormed off, after you broke me, looking like a wreck, tarnishing my reputation. You cried in public. You never cry in public. And I wasn’t there. I was trying to wipe away my tears in front of the entire world.

After I tried to contain my hatred for you- I couldn’t. I vented to you over text.

And what did you say?

“I said I will never stop loving you, and it’s true, I never will. Even when I begun* to get annoyed with all the useless things u^ were sending me [,] I still love you just as a friend. I told you this when we broke up and I’m telling you now. I’ll always be here’, I’ll always love you in just a slightly different manner, and when you’re ready to accept that, I’m ready to help.

* - you can’t even be bothered with proper grammar. It’s begAn, ex-darling.

^ - you used the right “you”, for the rest of this fucking paragraph? Why is this different.

[,] - ideally there should be a comma here, but you care less about grammar than you do did about me. And that’s saying something.

‘ - no you won’t you liar. you haven’t texted me first ever. Before or after the breakup, I was the initiator for E V E R Y T H I N G.

Why am I seeking YOUR forgiveness?

I have every right to be an asshole.

I think.

I cut myself so. many. times. Over you.

I scratched my wrists repeatedly in front of you and what did you do? Nothing.

And don’t say you didn’t notice, because that shit was BLEEDING. There’s still a mark, a scar, FOUR MONTHS LATER and I’m not over your pathetic purple arse.

I risked getting my phone- and the internet, my one source of help now that you left and took MY friends with you - thrown against a wall and taken away because of how shitty YOU made me feel.

You had made me so, SO happy. Loved. When my mother found out about me hurting myself, you held me through the next day, when I was empty, when I couldn’t deal.

I hope this finds you.

I know you don’t have tumblr.

but I hope this finds you. I hope you know how much agony you put me in. Over a fucking breakup.

It hurts because you were my friend first.

My best friend within our friend group. And I wasn’t yours. I knew that.

And after all this, I don’t know how to feel about you. Because I miss you.

Who cares. You don’t.

I know your favourite colour’s purple.

Mine used to be red. But now your least favourite and my favourite are the same-

Bright goddamn pink.

So, what else do I have to say? A lot, actually. But the majority can be summed up in three, concise words:

FUCK YOU, HOLLIE.

.

[helpmeimblorboing]

Sneak Peek of a chapter from my story that probably won't make it's way into the final draft of either version - Crimson or Crimson Redux (feat : Tumblr's shitty formatting)

The night air stretches stale and unpleasant, iced with rainwater, as Serenity stumbles out into the hall, pulling out the dark rectangle of his phone as he did, slumping down on one of the couches, the fabric catching roughly against the soft of his skin

The moonlight canted in through the big bay windows, glistening sharp and bright against the ledge outside and pooling shapelessly on the windowsill inside, dripping onto the floor, covering everything in molten silver.

The sight scraped painfully against the already raw and tender walls of Serenity’s heart – a silver cross necklace, strung around his throat, tight enough to strangle, the silver gleam of church candles across the rippling surface of a goblet of holy water, prayers and pleading, pain and pain

His shadows curled up the sides of the bay window with an almost unconscious flex of his power, curling low and dark across the shadow of the bay windows, darkening the flat stone of the windowsill to a pitch blank, swallowing up the moonlight like a greedy, gaping maw

Serenity had always hated color. Throughout his childhood, color had only meant pain – the red of fresh wounds, the scaled cream of a leather-bound Bible, the dark brown of a holy cross, the cracked black on yellowy-white of the words that had sealed his fate centuries before his birth – man shall not lie with man as he does with woman

His fingers drummed idly against the warm metal of his phone’s sides, as his eyes rising to linger on the dark, shadowy image of the night sky beyond the reinforced glass – the pinprick stars, the coin-stamp moon, and behind them all, the silver haze of a great arm, impossibly long and impossibly wide, curling behind them all, a river that could never be crossed

He remembered the scent of fresh-cut grass, the blades tickling his bare back, the sun pouring its smeared gold light across the naked, scarred torso of the boy sitting up beside him, bracing himself with one hand planted firmly in the dirt, even as the other reached for the sky

The visible arm of our galaxy, as observed in a moonless night sky, is known as the River of Heaven. A silver stream bending along the horizon, too far and vast for us to ever swim across.

I’d like to see it someday.

The light pollution of most cities did not allow for stargazing. The average child’s world does not have a glittery, star-sewn ceiling. The less spoken about the fact they were looking up at a daylit sky, the better. But still, that sunny afternoon, the proverbial arm of the galaxy showed itself to them anyway, their eyes following the river of light, stars pouring into the universe’s ocean, reaching for the horizon.

And tonight, with the skies washed clear of smoke and debris by the freak rainstorm that had occurred mere moments prior, the hazy, silver trail of the river of heaven revealed itself to him again, bending along the darkness of domed night sky in a stream of gleaming, sparkling white

Serenity bit idly at the corner of his lips, before looking down at his phone once more, gleaming white light casting a smeared, grainy light across his chin and the tops of his cheeks.

He had never liked texting. It felt wrong, tapping out a message instead of speaking it, so Fang and Riptide were his only Whatsapp contacts, for the sole reason that for the longest time since leaving Fang’s side, he wasn’t sure he would be able to cope with hearing his voice

Fang

12/12/2014

S : I’m sorry

F : I know

01/01/2015

F : Happy New Year

28/01/2015

F : Happy birthday

12/04/2015

S : This cat looks like you

S : [image]

29/06/2015

F : I missyuoi

F : Fcuk you

F : Fuck

S : Are you drunk ?

F : Why did you ?

F : Why ?

S : Can you drink some water for me please ?

S : Fang ?

F : For you

F : anythig

F : miss you

S : You keep your painkillers in the bathroom,

S : behind the mirror

S : Can you go get them for me ?

F : Yeh

S : Put them on your bedside table with a glass of water

F : Done

F : am i good

S : You always are

F : Then hwy dint you stay

S : Go to sleep, Fang

F : nooooo

F : Fcuk yuo

30/06/2015

F : Sorry

S : Don’t be

17/07/2015

S : Happy birthday

F : Thank you

19/07/2015

S : I miss you

28/01/2016

F : Happy birthday

17/07/2016

S : Happy birthday

29/12/2016

S : I’ve met someone

S : [image]

F : He looks

F : Kind

28/01/2017

F : Happy birthday

17/07/2017

S : Happy birthday

28/01/2018

F : Happy birthday

17/07/2018

S : Happy birthday

01/01/2019

S : Happy New Year

And that was it. That was where the messages, stilted and fractured, indicative of the rift that had begun to grow between them over the years, came to an end. Serenity sucks in a breath that sounds oddly strained, as if filtered through a mesh of tears, before starting to tap out a new message, his thumbs feeling odd against the smooth plastic of the screen cover, unwieldy and clumsy

12/09/2019

S : I’m sorry

F : All these years and we’re right back here again

Serenity sucked in a sharp breath, closed his eyes to suppressed the prickling at their corners, before slowly letting it out hiss out through his clenched teeth, and tapping out a response

S : I’m sorry

S : I took him out on date

S : [image]

A long pause stretched between the two message, painful, each passing second scraping oddly across the bones of Serenity’s ribcage, before -

F : I’m glad

F : He’s good for you

F : Better than I was, at least

It was funny, Serenity mused, as his fingers pressed hard into the warm metal of his phone case, how he could still, if he only tried a bit harder, remember the way Fang’s skin curled at the corners of his lips when he smiled. Or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, not the harsh, oily bark he had adopted in later years, but the way he laughed in the beginning, bright and clear and like nothing would ever go wrong ever again

It was like reading a language he was no longer fluent in but still knew how to speak. There was a time he thought he’d know Fang forever, and a time he thought they’d be together forever. Now, however...

S : It was nice

S : What we were, when we were us

S : It was nice, wasn’t it ?

S : However it ended

F : It was

The darkness pooled at his feet, soft and dusty. Overhead, the River of Heaven flowed along its unchangable track, bending acros the horizon in a haze of curling silver. For a long time, he stared at the message, the quiet confirmation, that the love had been there, one time. That it had been there, and it changed nothing. And it saved no one. Because the forces against it were far too great. But it was there, at one time

The scent of blood pooled in his sinuses, sharp and unyielding, a reminder of what had drawn them so far apart, clashing horribly with his sun-soaked memories of grass blades and rustling leaves, the hum of enduring life sounding from all about them, the river of stars winding its way through the sky high above them

For a long moment, his fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say next. If there even was anything he could say next – anything that would even come close to encapsulating the enormity of the beast stirring in the hollow of his chest, slavering and doglike

And so, he reverted back to the response that seemed easiest, the coward’s way out, to relay the words that swilled in the depths of his throat, pressed down his tongue, heavy as a leaden weight

S : I’m sorry

S : For how we ended

F : So am I

He still remembered the way he had been, right at the beginning. The sloped silhouette of his shoulders, the charcoal smudge of his hair, the lower of his gaze—hazy like scenery from a previous lifetime. A hand held out, a promise spoken into the blood-soaked air of a massacred town – we who are alone in this world must comfort each other

And the eye smile.

That eye smile. The haloed image of Fang with his Cupid’s bow hidden over his teeth, , distant as a shaken dream, pasted on the corkboard of Serenity’s mind front and center. The bulletin never changes. Even with the flyers and the events, the reminders and the announcements—Serenity just sees Fang. A single peeling missing poster clinging on with nothing but a few tacks the wind has yet to blow loose.

Perhaps there would be a day, when he could say Fang’s name, and mean him, and not the ruination he left in his wake. The man who went from dream to reality to memory. But not today. Today, he was a wound in Serenity, among the endless folds of his soul, unstemmable, a tidal wave of acrid, rotten blood

And, Serenity knew, his existence was just as much a gash on Fang, too. A weakspot, a chink in each of their endless layers of armor. And perhaps that was for the best, in a way. One could not live their life untouchable. Life was vulnerability. Life was pain

Fang was a flash of violence that defined the great majority of Serenity’s life, that gave the endless, roiling tides of his self meaning, and purpose, and boundaries. Blood that spilled endlessly, joyfully, across the white chrysanthemum garden of Serenity’s life, turning every flower it touched from the ghost-pale of mourning grief to the red spider lilies of violent wrath

But every tide must eventually run out. Every river has a mouth. Even the River of Heaven ended somewhere.

And even the endless stream of brilliant crimson blood that was Fang, that delectable promise of revenge, of ripping down the heavens that had defiled him and hurt him so... even that grew rotten and sluggish and black eventually

He didn’t know when the rot had started to spread. When Fang shifted away from being his Fang, with the crescented eyes and the lopsided grin, creature of passion and fire , to this cold, sharklike being of spite and hate. Perhaps it never had

Perhaps his Fang was still waiting for him to find him again, under the trappings of pain and misery La Comedienne bound himself in. Maybe it was Serenity who had lost sight of Fang, of the River of Heaven they had wanted to see together

Perhaps they still shared that dream, in secret. Perhaps they still shared the ambition that had bound them together, all those years ago

Perhaps they were, perhaps they had always been, two fish swimming in opposite currents, searching for the same ocean.

But it was useless to cling to the unchanging dead, Serenity knew. And useless to cling to a past that would never return. And so, he gritted his teeth, and shook off the final, stubborn remnants of the hiraeth that had defined his life for five years, and clicked off of Fang’s chat log, opening up another one, newer, fresher, dripping with a love and joy not yet rendered rotten and blackened by the jaws of time

Riptide

R : Tonight was really fun

R : Let’s do it again sometimes

A long moment, and then Serenity released a shaky, strained exhale, pulling up the keyboard, his fingers hovering over it for a few moments, before tapping out a response, each muted click an exorcism of past ghosts

S : Yes

S : Let’s

A moment, and then, in a fit of recklessness, his heart catching in his throat, hammering against the bars of his ribcage, he tacks on

S : I love you

He watches with bated breath as the tick marks beside the three messages appear, first in light grayscale against the tan background, before popping abruptly into a bubble of blue. A loading icon appears beside Riptide’s name, circling for one second, two, before...

R : I love you too

[n3hmof1sh]

Venty

I haven't showered in 9 days...

I've realised that...

I forget to do a lot of stuff...

Like eating...

Going to the toilet...

Washing my clothes...

Reminding my family that they forgot groceries because god forbid I go outside without supervision...

I hate how they act...

Its so annoying... why do they even act like that?

Their first question after finding out I was suicidal since 6 years old was "what have you been watching on your phone" and "hand over your phone. It's for your own good."

It wasn't.

I needed fucking help.

You all instead dumped your trauma and past grievances on me.

How was that supposed to help me?

You said you wanted to help.

So why didn't you help?

Why did I have to be the therapist and comfort you about your severe depression during college?

Okay. You went through something. You passed it. Good for you.

I haven't.

Wow.

Tumblr is helping me see how shitty my family really is.

I can't even cut my hair past half neck length because of my mom.

I hate this.

This family is a fucking nightmare.

I hate having to walk on eggshels around everyone.

Mari doesn't have to do that.

My family says it's because they don't trust me...

That's why they do all of this... but...

Why am I supposed to trust you? What have you done for me to make me trust you?

I'm going to change the pin to my phone.

Just in case my sister decides to go back on her word and look through it while I'm not there.

She's constantly talking about how she knows the pin to my phone but doesn't look through it...

.....

I don't feel safe in this family.

They don't even hit me that much.

At least they stopped that.

But they're constantly threatening to actually do it.

I'm kinda scared that they will...

[blackwatchbastard]

Long Time No See

Rating: T Chapter(s): 1/1 Relationship(s): Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison Warnings: N/A Words: 3,335 Additional Tags: Sap and Fluff, Kissing, Established Relationship, Long Distance Pining, Soft Old Men

Summary: Neither of them ever really did enjoy the time apart. But it makes for some damn good reunions.

A/N: That good ol’ long distance pining and cute reunion shit I said I was going to do ages ago because of @mysadtwodads2

(ao3)

Another mission, another month apart. Jack felt the dread boiling in his gut the closer they got to the airport. Really, as far as Blackwatch assignments went this one was a cake walk. But he wasn’t worried about Gabriel being able to handle himself and his agents, he was more worried about what one would consider lesser issues.

“You’re going to be able to sleep alright, right?” he asked, one hand on the small of Gabriel’s back as they approached his gate.

Gabriel shrugged and leaned to kiss his temple, eyes on the message he was typing in his data pad. “No.” he replied casually, “You know how it is.”

Humming in agreement, Jack leaned against Gabriel’s side. When he finished his message Gabriel stuffed the pad in his hoodie pocket and turned his attention to the sulking man stuck to his side.

“You look how I feel.” he said, teasing, and ambled to a stop outside his gate to wrap his arms around Jack’s shoulders lazily. Jack pressed in and kissed the corner of his lips, feeling him smile under the gesture, and felt fingers winding into his hair.

“Must feel bad, then.”

“Terrible.” Gabriel confirmed. Then, “You have to remember how to smile while I’m gone, alright? No frightening the children with your moods.” Jack wrinkled his nose. “I mean it.”

“I’ll do my best.” Jack replied blandly.

Gabriel grinned and pressed a noisy kiss to his lips before heading for his plane. “All I ask.” he shot back playfully, “See you in October.”

Jack watched him go with a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow and then headed home. He spent the next week or so wrapped up in a botched Overwatch mission, paperwork flying in and out of his office at breakneck paces, and by the time things slowed down he barely realized how little he and Gabriel had been able to speak. He managed to steal a rare day off and, after finagling around the time zone issue, set up a chance to talk properly that evening.

Gabriel looked exhausted on the feed. Thick bags under his eyes and laying in bed even though the international time clock told Jack it was near noon where he was. But he still smiled when he saw Jack; that sappy mellow thing he didn’t realize he was doing. If Jack’s desire for the ability to reach through the phone hadn’t been strong before it was then.

“You alright, babe?”

Gabriel bit back a yawn and said, “No,” because there was no sense in trying to fib his way out of it. The question was admittedly a bit of a trap.

“What do you need?”

“Sleep.” Another muffled yawn. “Jesse told me to lay down and do mission notes later because I was being quote ‘a cranky baby’ unquote.” He threw his voice a little to mimic McCree’s drawl and Jack snorted. “Haven’t made any progress yet.”

Jack watched him adjust his position irritably and hummed in consideration. When Gabriel settled down he asked, “Anything I can help with?”

“Come turn me into a human body pillow like you love to do and I’ll be asleep in minutes.”

“Second best option?” Jack ventured.

“You could try snoring?” Gabriel offered, “That helps.”

Jack snorted. “You make me sound like a wonderful bedmate, you know.”

Gabriel laughed and melted a little into his pillows. There was a moment of consideration, then he said, “Your voice helps.”

“So the sounds of gravel and smoker’s regrets is going to soothe you to sleep?” Jack teased. Gabriel just nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. “Alright, whatever floats your boat, sunshine.”

So he spent the next hour or so on the phone, chatting with Gabriel until he drifted off. Then a brief period after just watching him sleep (just to be sure he was out for good, of course, no sap there) before he finally forced himself to return to his evening.

The rest of the time apart drew on as slowly as one would expect. But they both did their best to stay busy between small chances to talk. And as soon as Jack had a time and date for Gabriel’s return flight he put in for the day off and glared down anyone who tried to argue against it. A few days later and he was headed for the airport.

The minute Jack rounded the corner and spotted Gabriel, lost in his data pad and dragging his luggage, his heart bloomed in his chest. Truthfully, he looked like a mess. Bags under his eyes, wrinkled old hoodie, sweats, ratty slip ons, and that ‘I slept on the window’ look to his beard.

Jack Morrison had never been more in love.

“Gabe!”

Gabriel dropped his arms and glanced around rapidly as soon as he registered his voice, eyes going wide. When his gaze fell on Jack’s he instantly broke into a grin. Like sunshine on flowers.

Jack stuck his arms out and Gabriel stuffed his data pad in his hoodie pocket before abandoning his suitcase and breaking into a run across the space between them. He dove into Jack’s arms and dissolved into laughter when Jack hoisted him off the ground and spun, face squished against his shoulder. His feet hadn’t even hit the floor before he was kissing Jack, one hand grabbing a handful of his hair to keep him in place.

They both sank as Jack set him on his feet again, Jack leaning into the kiss and grabbing handfuls of Gabriel’s hoodie. He pulled him as impossibly close as he could manage and hunched awkwardly as he tried to chase Gabriel’s mouth when he finally retreated for air.

“Easy, tiger,” Gabriel drawled when they finally broke apart, “act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“Felt like years.” Jack mumbled, pressing his lips to Gabriel’s temple instead. Gabriel laughed and nudged his chest.

“Like that could happen. You’d die with me gone that long.”

“I would.” Jack didn’t even hesitate that reply. Instead, he ducked to press his face into the crook of Gabriel’s neck and breathed deeply. His shoulders went slack, tension leaving in waves, and he lingered a moment before he felt the other man shift with a faint chuckle.

“I can’t smell nice. Been hopping planes for the past 48 hours.”

“You hungry?” Jack asked, swapping subjects rapidly, “Tired?” Gabriel shrugged and Jack felt his fingers tease back into the hair on the nape of his neck. “Wanna go home?”

“Home sounds good.” Then, “Also, I’d go toe to toe with God for some good pad thai right now, if you can stop by the place we order from on the way.”

“I got it.” Jack said. He shifted, arms looping around Gabriel’s middle and hoisting him off the ground again–this time met with some protest. “I got it.”

Gabriel squirmed a bit but seemed to give in and swung his legs around Jack’s hips to keep from getting drug across the airport. Jack just did a quick loop to grab his suitcase, one hand squeezing at his thigh as they set off for the car.

“Clingy. Act like you missed me or something.” he teased when he felt Jack’s chin dig into his shoulder. But there wasn’t even a little bite to it–all pure adoration. Didn’t help that Gabriel was still combing absently at his air the whole time.

Jack just chuckled faintly and rolled his eyes. “Oh? What gave you that impression?” he asked.

He could feel Gabriel smiling when he pressed his lips to his cheek. Made the whole attempt at teasing hold even less water.

“Oh, just a hunch.”

They’d been apart for years. Years. The last thing either of them had in mind was splitting up when they finally got to be together again. Once they’d figured everything out and got to be in each other’s company it wasn’t on the radar.

But duty had a habit of calling when they wanted to hear it least. And as much as Gabriel had been annoyed about Sombra’s multiple messages that morning he couldn’t exactly deny her. He had promises to keep.

Jack saw him off at the helipad, toting one of his bags for him and wrapping a scarf around his neck while he tried to go over the details Sombra had sent and eat a bagel at the same time. They were both unhappy about it but it wasn’t expected to be that long.

“Sombra promised it’d be a week.” Gabriel reminded him when he caught Jack making those damn puppy eyes again. “One week, old man. You’ll survive.”

Jack tugged at the ends of his scarf and puffed out a sigh. Pointedly, he didn’t look at Gabriel this time when he asked, “You sure about that?”

“Yes, I am. You’ve survived worse.”

To punctuate his point, Gabriel took Jack’s chin in his hand and traced the scarring cutting through his lip. The response was a quick kiss to the pad of his thumb and another eyeful of those awful sad dog eyes.

“Not like I’m happy about this either, babe. She’s taking me to Russia again. Gonna freeze my damn ass off.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jack tugged at his scarf again, pulling him closer, and Gabriel got the message. He ducked in for a brief kiss and, based on the fact he probably tasted like cream cheese and the transport copter was starting up in the background and kicking up dust and his coat tails, it was best to keep it that way. Even if Jack pressed after him when they parted, kissing the corner of his mouth and his lower lip before finally slacking the hold on him.

“Be safe.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Call me when you can.”

“Of course, baby.”

“Don’t let Sombra get you into any trouble.”

Gabriel stole a glance over his shoulder. In the window, Sombra had smooshed her face up against the glass. When she caught him looking she mimed rubbing tears away with her fist and puckered her lower lip out dramatically. Gabriel briefly stashed his data pad inside Jack’s coat pocket to flip her off. Sombra responded by clutching her chest dramatically and dropping out of view in her seat.

“That’s my girl.” Gabriel hummed, turning his attention back to Jack with a grin plastered on his face. “We’ll be fine, promise. Just a little espionage. Just like old times. Cept this time instead of a cowboy and a ninja I’ve got little miss cyberpunk.”

“Not too late to invite the ninja or cowboy, you know.”

Gabriel scoffed and freed his tablet from Jack’s pocket (begrudgingly). “No thanks.” he said, taking his duffle bag from Jack and hiking it up high on his shoulder. “Those two, and everyone else, are all you guy’s job this week. Hope you and Ana got some sleep.”

“Winston helps sometimes.” Jack ventured, grinning faintly.

“He’s too soft on the punks.”

“One to talk.”

Gabriel held a finger up to his lips. “Hey, don’t give away my secret. I’m the fun dad.”

Jack laughed and leaned in, managing to steal one more kiss before Gabriel slumped his shoulders and headed for the transport. He made a point not to look back until he was already buckled in and stuck next to Sombra (who had already started blaring Selena through the speakers somehow). Because it was usually all he could do not to visibly sulk as badly as Jack did when they were together. He waved out the window, Jack wiggling his fingers after him, and sank back once they took off.

Once they were apart, however, it was all holds off. He tossed his scarf at Sombra halfway into the trip and kicked his seat back, arms folded over his chest and ear buds jammed in. Made it a bit hard to realize Sombra was talking to him until she leaned over his face and papped roughly at his chest.

“What?”

“You gonna pout the whole time, Gabo?”

“I’m not–”

“Were you and Morrison this joined at the hip when you were younger? Or is this a thing you grew into?”

“We–”

“Is my music not good enough for you, by the way? Gotta play your sad emo shit?”

Gabriel cut his eyes at her. “It’s 1980s rock…” The first full thought he’d managed to get out. Sombra scrunched up her nose.

“Older than grandpa music.”

“Selena is from literally almost the same time period.”

Sombra waved him off easily. “Yeah, but she’s a classic.” she countered.

They spent the rest of the flight making subtle snipes at each other’s music tastes and Gabriel almost managed to shove down that dull ache in his chest once they were to work on her little project. It was easy to focus elsewhere when they had things to do. But when they hit a safe house that night and Sombra passed out on the sleeper couch, leaving him alone with a pile of blankets and pillows but no too-warm super soldier to coil around him like the world’s weirdest starfish, it came back with a vengeance.

Gabriel didn’t know what time it was back with Jack. Probably late, or early. But it didn’t really matter, he knew he was going to call him anyway as soon as he opened his eyes after trying to squeeze them shut and force sleep. It was easier to just give in and roll over, grab his data pad and punch in a video call request for ‘call-sign: Soldier76’.

(Gabriel made a mental note to have Sombra hack it later and let him change the call-sign. Something more fitting like ‘Soldier Flatass’. But, knowing her, it’d end up being something like ‘Schnookums76’. Maybe he’d try his hand at it first.)

Jack answered on the third ring with a “Hey, sunshine.” He looked awake enough, coffee cup in the frame as he greeted Gabriel and fiddled with the pad a moment before propping it on something and sitting back slightly. Gabriel took in the background a little better; warm lighting, coffee cup, and wire furniture.

“You’re having breakfast?” he asked. Jack nodded and took a draw off his coffee.

“I made pancakes.” Jack drawled.

“Asshole.”

That summoned a laugh. Jack pressed two fingers to his lips and held them to the camera. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out and flopped back into his mess of bedding, tablet held above his head.

“Mission going well?” Jack asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “It’s been okay. Bit of a goose chase but eh. It’s Sombra.” Then, “I miss you.”

“That’s just because you’re cold.” Jack teased.

“Maybe. Take what you can get.”

The other man laughed and shook his head. He looked so warm and softened in the morning light. Gabriel felt his chest tighten some and tried to ignore it. Instead, he focused on the way Jack paused to take another sip of his coffee before speaking.

“I miss you too. Slept like shit.”

“Sombra says we’re too needy and that’s why we can’t sleep apart.” Gabriel offered, grinning faintly.

Jack scoffed loudly. “Don’t care. I’m too old to give a fuck about what it means when I can’t sleep without my partner.”

Gabriel muffled a laugh into his fist. “Same.”

Jack went to say something else but Gabriel accidentally cut him off with a loud yawn. Stretching, he flipped sideways and propped the data pad in his pillows. That whole display earned him a sympathetic little frown.

“Trouble sleeping, babe?”

“Mm.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully and propped his chin on his fist. After a moment of consideration, he asked, “What do you need me to do? Lullabies?” That one made Gabriel cringe and Jack chuckle. “Phone sex?”

“Nah.”

“Give it a few days and you’ll be harassing me at weird hours for it. I know you.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and Jack pushed on. “You can’t fool me. Just gotta hear it; I love you, Gabe, you feel so good, oh yeah, that’s–”

Gabriel flipped the tablet onto its face, hissing, and heard Jack let out a muffled laugh on the other end. When he finally flipped it back up he glared at the other man.

“No sex voice when Sombra is sleeping in the other room, asshole.”

Jack laughed again, fist stuffed against his mouth, but nodded. Took him a second to calm down before he could offer another suggestion.

“Want me to read for you?”

Gabriel hemmed and hawed and moment before finally nodding. So Jack grabbed a book off the shelf behind him (convenient for balcony relaxing) and set to work plugging through some trashy fantasy romance novel. Gabriel was asleep in no time. He woke up the next morning to a ‘good night’ text from Jack and Sombra cooking eggs in the tiny kitchenette.

By the time they headed back Gabriel felt like he was running on empty. He hadn’t slept half a shit the whole time, even with Jack’s dutiful reading, and every bit of him felt sore and tired and cold. It showed, clearly, considering Sombra even shoved his data pad at him on one occasion and told him to ‘have old man phone sex and stop being so pissy’ before leaving for the afternoon.

(They didn’t, though the thought crossed his mind. Instead, Gabriel listened to Jack go over repair reports while he fixed some tears in Sombra’s coat. Domestic bliss was all either of them ever really needed, it seemed.)

He spent the flight back bouncing his knee, much to Sombra’s loud annoyance, and staring out the window. The whole thing took too damn long. He couldn’t even really talk with Jack during the travel and it just made the whole focus even worse. If he could have at least bounced a few texts back and forth he might not have been so… insufferable.

Gabriel was out of his seat and onto the landing pad the second he could. His knee ached from the cold he’d been enduring, slowing him down a little, but the second he spotted Jack across the way he took off into a run anyway. Jack threw his arms out, grinning widely, and Gabriel collided with his chest a second later, legs swinging up to wrap around his waist in the embrace.

Unfortunately, the combination of momentum and Jack’s faulty joints made the approach a little more than either of them bargained for. Jack’s knees gave out and they dropped for the ground, both yelping and latching onto each other instinctively in their panic. There was a loud oof as Jack hit the ground and took most of Gabriel’s weight on top of him and Gabriel cringed as his knees banged against the hard asphalt ground but he sat up immediately to check Jack over. Dazed but unharmed, Jack blinked back up at him.

There was a pause, just briefly, then Jack said, “Act like you miss me or something.”

Gabriel blinked, then immediately dissolved into laughter and ducked down to squish his face against Jack’s chest. The other man laughed too, arms wrapping around Gabriel and pulling him down into a proper embrace, and for a while they just laid there laughing and hugging. Gabriel squirmed up enough to pepper Jack’s jaw line with kisses, still half crushed in his grasp, and felt all the angst and ice melting from his body with the warmth around him now.

Behind them, Gabriel heard Sombra snort loudly. “Saps.” she hissed, stepping past them headed for the base.

“Yeah, kinda,” Gabriel hummed, finally sitting up and awkwardly shuffling to his feet–pulling Jack along with him.

Jack leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, one arm swung around his shoulders. Gabriel tucked himself closer to Jack’s side and sighed contently.

“You missed me.” Jack said, teasingly sing-song in his tone.

Gabriel just rolled his eyes. “What ever gave you that idea?” he asked.

Jack bit back a laugh and shrugged. “Just a hunch.”

[thebirdmanhewatches]

Louie’s pissed that he supernatural aficionado is not being shown the tumblr memes

original below the cut

I swear whenever a draw the original five Alex and Kai turn out shit Alex looks so dopey wtf

[strangelysamantha]

bittersweet ☆

possessive!rafe x plus!sized reader.

warnings: crazy rafe, possessive and obsessive behavior, swearing, underage drinking, reader gets hurt, physical fight, ect.

words: 2,167.

summary: you went to a local party by the beach when rafes unstable side peeked out. jj maybank finds you alone, and decides to talk to you. rafe gets possessive and upset, thinking that jj was hitting on you.

request?: no :)

a/n: i’m working on requests but since my computer is down it’s taking longer because i hate typing on my phone especially because tumblr always deletes what i’ve written. i’m hopeful that my computer will be fixed by tomorrow, until then i’ll try and produce a few stories since i’ve been MIA for a few days. remember to like and comment if you enjoy this! <3

my masterlist

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“please just come with me.” rafe frowned as he sat on your porch pleading to you, telling you why you should go to a beach party with him. “why rafe?” you frown, not in a partying mood. instead, you would much rather stay home and do a movie marathon. “please baby, i swear i’ll make it up to you.” you roll your eyes at his begging. “fine, but only because you are so cute.” his eyes sparkle as a smile lifts on his lips, you pull him into a quick kiss.

you walk back inside to get dressed for the bonfire. rafe was wearing blue and orange, and you wanted to match him. so, you grabbed a pair of dark blue ripped jean shorts, and an orange v-neck. you apply some perfume and jewelry before putting on some shoes. just as you were finishing up, rafe walked into your room smirking. “awh, you wanted to match with me.” he smiled. despite you knowing his look was filled with adoration you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his long glance. “obviously, don’t you want people to know i’m yours?” you question him, waiting for his response. “well, matching clothes won’t change anything. everyone already knows.” you nod smiling before pulling him into a kiss.

once you pull away from the kiss, he grabs your hand and leads you to the car as he drives to the beach. his hand finding its way on your thigh; gripping it tightly. while he drove to the beach, you paid close attention to your phone, checking social media for any major updates. rafes grasp on your thigh loosened as the car came to a halt. you were parked on the beach, the sun was already setting.

you both exit the car, rafe swiftly moving from his side of the car to yours. “thank you for coming with me.” his hand finds yours, pulling them together. “of course, i love hanging out with you.” he lets go of your hand, and moves his arm to hold closely around your waist. the two of you begin to walk towards the already drunken teen filled beach.

you frown at the amount of trash that litters the sand. you stay close to rafe, as he approaches topper and kelce. “hey guys.” you say to them to make conversation. they nod in your direction, acknowledging you before their attention turns towards rafe again. you don’t pay any mind to what the boys are discussing. after a while you become bored, so you slowly slip out of rafes arm to go get a drink. “i’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” you ask rafe, and he glances at you smiling. “yes please, thanks baby.” you lean in for a quick kiss before leaving to go get drinks. you weren’t a heavy drinker, always scared of what you would say or do under the influence, so you grab yourself a water and grab a beer for rafe.

you return to the spot you were in earlier, but it’s now vacant. rafe, topper, and kelce all leaving you behind. you frown, looking around for them but coming up short. you had no idea where they could be since this beach was huge. you don’t bother wasting your time looking for them, instead you start to head for the bonfire.

you weren’t surprised that rafe had left you all alone. this always happened. he would beg you to go to something, just to abandon you half way through it. it didn’t bother you, it just worried you, scared of what he was doing without you.

once you arrived at the bonfire, you decided to down the drink once made for rafe, the beer stinging your throat. you drank three more chugs before drinking water as well. it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to come into effect. you knew it had clouded your judgement when you were laughing at jj maybanks jokes of all people. “i’m telling you, these people were fucking crazy.” you giggled as he made exaggerated reactions. “you’re telling me! that sounds scary as fuck. i wouldn’t have survived.” he shook his head looking down at you, “i’m sure you would have figured something out.” you nod at him.

“have you seen those dudes since?” you ask, intrigued by his story. “actually, yeah. their story isn’t the brightest… sheriff told me that they-” his voice cut off as he made a slicing noise above his throat. your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god! really??” you grab his arm, “what if they came back for you! bro no way…” your heart rate quickens at the thought of evil men chasing random kids. “no, i know right, scary as shit. i guess it’s bittersweet because they died, but now they aren’t after us anymore.” he shrugs, sipping his red solo cup. “i guess. it’s still scary. so many people are unexpectedly dying nowadays, i definitely-” you were interrupted as rafe put an arm around you, eyeing jj up and down.

“continue baby, what were you saying?” rafe asked, smiling at you for a split second before it disappeared when his eyes focused on jj again. “oh we were just talking about bad men, and how this town is scarier than it used to be.” he nods at you. “jj what are you doing talking to my girl?” jj stands up straighter, “why do you care? do you own her or something?” rafe scoffed, “yes.” the confusion on your face was evident and jj was quick on acknowledging it. “oh really? by the look on her face, she doesn’t agree.” he glances at you, but you have quickly recovered. “what are you talking about maybank?” you interrupted the two immediately not wanting a fight to break out. “i was just talking to jj because he had a funny story. it wasn’t anything like that, i swear babe.” you words slurred together and it was evident you weren’t in the right headspace.

rafes eyes widened as he fully realized that you were so intoxicated that you had no idea what was going on, “what the fuck maybank? you got her drunk for what? you trying to fuck her?” jj couldn’t believe rafes nerve. “one, she was drunk when she came up to me, and two, i don’t need to fuck her, i already have.” your heart dropped at jj's confession.

“maybank, do you want to take that back?” you could tell rafe was trying to give jj a chance to redeem himself before all hell breaks loose. your hand tightened on rafes bicep trying to get him to move on, but he wouldn’t budge. “can't take back what’s already happened.” jj shrugged again, smirking.

rafe was the first one to throw a punch, you stumbled back as he had pushed you away. with your luck, your head had landed right against the beverage table, scratching the side of your face from your temple to the side of your cheek. you hiss in pain, moving your fingers to feel it. when you retreat your hand you see it covered in blood. you groan in pain, hissing as the cool air makes it sting.

you clumsy stand up, looking ahead to see rafe and jj were still fighting. “rafe!” you weakly call out, but he was stuck in his own little bubble as he pounded his fists against jjs face. you stumble away, walking far from the beach. you were too tired to even try to process what was going on. the yelling behind you quietly faded as you made your way farther along the beach.

not even a minute later you hear rafe running after you. “what rafe?” you ask, but your back is still turned to him. “baby, please just- i’m sorry okay. i, i don’t know. i was just scared he’d take you from me. i don’t want to lose you, you are all i have. you mean too much to me for some pogue to take.” his rambling only pissed you off more. “rafe, please. i have a headache, all i want is to go home.” you frown.

his eyes moved from the sand up to your face, surprised by the huge gash on your face that was oozing blood. “baby?! who did this to you?” you couldn’t contain your anger any longer. you used all your strength, pushing his shoulders back. “you did! you fucking asshole.” the fact that he didn’t even budge from the push you sent his way, pissed you off even more. “baby, i, you know i would never do anything to intentionally hurt you?” your silence only scared him even more.

“baby, i wouldn’t- i didn’t mean to hurt you.” his breathing was heavy as the realization hit him. he had undeniably hurt you, and he had undoubtedly lost you. “no, because this can’t be happening. i can't lose you. baby, i- it was an accident. please, you gotta understand i didn’t want to hurt you, it was just jj fucking all over you, and the way he tried to claim you, saying he already had you, it just- the anger i couldn’t even hold myself back.” you nod at his words. “rafe i understand that. i, just. i don’t want this. do you think i want you to assault every guy who even looks at me? it makes me feel like shit. do you know how shitty it makes me feel? that you think i would chose anyone else when i have you. it hurts to know that you think i’m not loyal enough.” you frown, tears easily falling out of your eyes.

“baby- it’s not you i’m worried about.” you nod, “i know… it just doesn’t feel that way.” he goes to speak again but you quickly interrupt him. “can we please continue this at your house? my head seriously hurts.” his eyes soften, his hand cupping your cheek. he hesitated before he pulled you into a kiss, when you kissed him back he could feel his smile come back. “rafe.” you say again, before pointing to your head. “right baby, i’m sorry. let's go.” you nod.

he walks you to his car, opening the door for you before you hop in. he puts your seatbelt on for you. his protective side shining through once again. he walks around, before hopping in himself. he starts the car. “seatbelt…?.” you question. he laughs quietly. “of course, baby.” you nod as he puts his seatbelt on. his hand reached for your thigh again, before he drove the two of you to his house.

when you arrived, your head was pounding. you could feel it throbbing, the blood dripping onto your orange v neck. you frown at the sight. the two of you walk inside, and he immediately pulls you into his room, placing you on the edge of his bed. he runs to his bathroom grabbing a table cloth and the first aid kit.

he opens the first aid kit, placing it beside you. he takes the wet washcloth, wiping away the blood. after cleaning it, he added antibacterial cream, and then covered it in gauze. he kissed the bandage covering it before walking to his closet.

“here. wear this, and i’ll wash your t-shirt.” you nod, “thank you rafe.” he turns around and you swiftly change your t-shirt. he turns around, his heart hammering inside his chest, still scared about where you stood.

“rafe. i don’t want to lose you. i love you a lot, but i don’t want to continue this if every time a guy looks at me funny, you beat him up. i appreciate you protecting me, but they aren’t worth it.” he nods, soaking up every word. “if you can promise me that you won’t fight random people anymore, then i think we can work this out, and work through this.” he smiles softly, “is that a deal?” you ask. “of course baby. i promise i won’t fight anyone unless they really deserve it.” you roll your eyes, “fine. that’s good enough; but please, let’s hope it doesn’t get too bad.” he laughs, “let’s hope.” you grab his hands, realizing they were quite bruised. “let’s ice these.” he follows you to the kitchen, as you prepare an ice pack.

once the ice pack is ready, you place it on one hand, the other is intently grabbing your thigh. “baby you don’t have to do all this.” he reached for the ice and you lightly pushed his hand away. “you fixed me up, let me fix you up.” he sat back and watched as you cared for his bruises. rafe was glad he didn’t lose you, and he was glad you were still there with him. having you so close to him made him realize he couldn’t sacrifice anything to lose you. he kissed your bandages once more before you two prepared for bed and started to comfortably cuddle together.

[kaldurahms-lover]

Bad Dreams || Kevin Levin x Reader

Pairing: Kevin Levin x Fem Reader (set in alien force), pre-established relationship

Warnings: fluff, pet names (baby, babe, nicknames, sunshine) swearing, shitty writing, as per usual for me: possibly too much straight up dialogue

Word Count: 426 words

A/N: OKAY I KNOW LIKE NOBODY WANTS THIS BUT IM IN LOVE WITH HIM AND NO ONE IS WRITING ME ANYTHING SO IM JUST PUTTING MY SCENARIOS ON TUMBLR, anyways we’re pretending Kevin and Gwen never liked each other 🤩

Y/N was used to Kevin waking her up at all hours of the night. 

Telling her about a new mission they were going on, wanting to talk to her after a nightmare, asking if she wanted to go on a midnight drive, even just asking her to fall asleep on the phone with him so he could sleep better.

What she was not used to however, was him showing up at her house. At 4:00 AM on a Saturday. 

She awoke to knocking on her window. She half expected it to be Ben, asking to be patched up after a particularly rough solo fight, something that happened every once in a while. Unexpectedly however, it was Kevin at the window.... and he looked like he had been crying. 

Y/N opened her window, quickly ushering him into her room. 

“Kevin? What are you doing-”

He cut her off by wrapping his arms around her, so tight she could hardly breath, and burying his face in her neck.

“Kev, what’s wrong?”, his girlfriend asked with worry, her arms reciprocating before she even realized.

He wasn’t making a sound, but she could feel him crying, silent sobs causing his entire body to shake.

“Baby you have to tell me what’s bothering you”

“Nothing Y/N, just had a bad dream.”

“Kevin you have bad dreams all the time, you’ve never had a nightmare to the point you have to come see me in the middle of the night, crying your eyes out. Come on, let’s lay down.”

He just nodded as he followed her to her bed. Y/N laid on her back, Kevin’s head on her shoulder and his arms around her waist. 

“Do you wanna tell me what your dream was about?”

“I don’t really wanna, but I probably should. It was so bad sunshine”

“How so?”

“I lost you. And there was blood. So much blood, everywhere. And I kept trying to tell myself it wasn’t real, but it felt like you were really gone. Y/N I saw you die in that fucking  nightmare.”

“Kevin, babe, i’m okay, i’m right here alright?”

He nodded silently. 

“Why don’t you try go back to sleep, you look exhausted. I’ll be right here with you if you need me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too sunshine.”

-

Kevin drifted off fast, and after a quick text to her parents, telling them what had happened and warning them that Kevin would be there when they woke up, Y/N did too.

-

Kevin had never slept better in his life.