#so this got emotional and angsty oops

[avastyetwats]

I can't thank you enough for all that you've done for me (ed to izzy)

The silence had been comfortable. It was the early hours of the morning, still several minutes before the full sunrise, and Izzy had come out onto the deck first. Fang, another early riser, was already out, readying himself to go catch some fish and bring back to Roach for breakfast. Early mornings were the best time to catch fish, after all, though Izzy was a little surprised to see him alone. Lately Ed had been accompanying him, learning all he could about catching fish and even catching some himself. Small ones, mostly, but the other day e did manage to catch a much larger fish and Izzy remembers how excited and proud he was when he climbed back onto The Revenge and showed off his best catch yet. The First Mate was smiling in the back, proud of Edward and glad to see him so happy about something so... different. Something so simple and mundane compared to the things they've done during their life of piracy together.

And that's what consumed Izzy's thoughts currently as he leaned against the railing of the ship, watching Fang row himself further out to sea. The man waves at him and Izzy smirks, returning the wave in kind before he lets out a heavy sigh and drops his hand, wishing he had a bottle of rum in the other, but it was too fuckin' early for that. He was trying to drink less. Trying to rely on that shit less, though it helped numb a lot of his pain. Both physically and emotionally. Hell, he could use some right now thinking about Ed and their life together. All the shit they've been through, all the shit they've put each other through, especially recently. Though, things had calmed down since and they were trying to find their way back. But it wasn't easy. Nothing in life ever was, though.

He'd been so consumed in his thoughts and the calming view of the horizon in front of him that he didn't hear anyone approach him until he heard Edward's voice, snapping Izzy from his thoughts. But it's his words that surprised the First Mate. They came out of nowhere and he hadn't even started with a good morning or anything of the sort. No. He just... thanked him for all that Izzy had done for him. He didn't expect that, especially with how tense things between them had been lately. He isn't sure what he wants to say in response because they'd never been much for the emotional and sentimental conversations. Sure they've had their deeply intimate moments, but not for a while. They hadn't even talked about all the shit that happened since Stede Bonnet came into their lives.

So, Izzy stands up straight and stretches his neck out a bit, wishing more than ever that he had a bottle of alcohol in his hand. "Was surprised to see Fang out there alone." He doesn't mean to ignore his Captain's words. He just... wasn't sure what to say to that. Not just because they hadn't really talked about everything, but because of the guilt that still ate at Izzy. All the things he had done for Edward? What about the things he had done to him? If not for Izzy, the crew wouldn't have been put in danger, nearly killed. If not for him, Lucius would've never been thrown overboard. If not for him, the others would have never been stranded. If not for him, Edward wouldn't have almost died... yes, he's been told it wasn't his fault and that he didn't deserve losing his leg and nearly dying, but fuck, he still felt guilty for it all. He felt angry and hurt and sick and guilty. He hated what became of them. Fuckin' hated it. "'s beautiful, isn't it?" A pause. "Sunrise." It wasn't the first sunrise they've watched together.

[froggibus]

The Mark of Greed - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x reader

Genre: angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: mammon can’t help but notice that you refuse to talk about his pact mark, and he’s determined to find out why

CW: hurt/comfort, angst, violence (reader gets attacked by demons), mutual pining, self deprecating thoughts, arguing/yelling, angsty! Mammon, love confessions, misunderstandings

i definitely did not write all of this at 3am. nope. idk i had this image in my head of soft! Mammon tracing your pact mark and telling you he loves you so here it is lol. i got super carried away and ended up making this super long too oops

————

The best kept secret in the Devildom, aside from Satan’s pet cat, was your pact mark. Not just any pact mark—no, it was the shimmering gold one that marked Greed. Right from the day you got it, you knew you should keep it hidden. 

Always wearing clothes to strategically cover it, lying, deflecting and giving different answers every time someone would ask. Mammon watched all this, and said nothing. Sure, it was a little funny, but it also made him wonder. 

Did you hate him? Was the mark of greed as awful as he always thought it was? Was his touch so ugly and toxic that you didn’t want anyone to know about it? 

Maybe his brothers were right. Maybe there was something wrong with him. You were so open about your pacts with his brothers, gladly showing them the swirling coloured patterns that marked your body. You showed them off unashamedly, proudly displaying the marks as part of yourself. 

It made him jealous, really. You were his human. You were his first. His pact was your first—so why did you hate it so much? He always pegged envy as Leviathan’s emotion, but the more he watched, the more he realized his turmoil was enough to rival the otaku himself. 

You first notice Mammon withdrawing after you show a demon in class your pact mark with Beel. An orange sigil just above your belly button that you displayed proudly with crop tops and bathing suits. You could feel Mammon’s eyes on you the whole time, watching you as you explained the beauty behind the mark. 

“It’s not just cause he’s the Avatar of Gluttony,” you explain, fingers tracing the orange outline. “But it also relies on emotions. In this case, the comfort he brings me is like having a full stomach. It sits right at my core because he’s my support.”

You swear you see blue eyes roll to your left, but you shrug it off. He’s probably just upset because Lucifer confiscated Goldie again. Still, you can’t help but think he’s jealous of the way you’re talking about Beel. 

When you walk home later that day, Mammon is short with you. He barely acknowledges you or responds to anything you say, instead he slumps his shoulders and shrugs you off. 

“Mammon, is everything okay? You seem…upset,” you note. 

“The Great Mammon? Upset?” He tsks, “maybe your time in the Devildom has made you dumber, y/n.” 

“I was just checking on you…”

You don’t wait for him to say anything else and instead throw open the front door and stomp to your room in silence. If he wants to be a jerk, you’ll let him be a jerk. 

You practically throw your backpack across the room and slump on your bed. One of your pact marks aches and the thought makes you cringe. Of course it’s that one. 

Ever since you got it, you’ve tried so hard to keep it hidden. Not even telling Mammon himself where it is. I mean, if he knew, what would he even say? You could almost hear his voice in your head telling you that you’re delusional to think you could ever be with him, dismissing your feelings and breaking your heart. 

You get up and sit in front of the mirror, pulling off your shirt so that you can examine your skin. There, sitting above your heart, is the golden mark of Greed. You trace it lightly. It’s always been your favorite, the colour and the design by far the prettiest. You just wish it wasn’t where it was. 

When you first got the mark, when you felt it sear itself into your skin, you knew what it meant. It was a visual representation of the butterflies in your stomach and the clenching in your heart every time you saw the Avatar of Greed. 

Still, you found yourself flipping through the pages of Satan’s personal collection. You honestly hoped it was just random, a weird coincidence or a mistake—but the books said otherwise. They confirmed your fear. 

When the others started to make pacts with you, you worried the same thing would happen. That they would show up in the same place or worse. You can still remember the immense relief you felt when you made your pact with Levi and have the mark show up on your thigh. 

Levi was so excited to ask about his mark and when you let him touch it? He almost exploded. That was the first time Mammon asked you about his mark, and it was the first time you lied to him. 

You groan in frustration and pull your shirt back on, trying to blink away the image of his branding. A part of you always wanted to tell him, to show him and have him touch it. But the other part couldn’t get it out of your head that you’re just a burden to him. You’re his responsibility and that’s the only reason he hangs around you. 

You only wish things could be simpler. 

—

Mammon slams the door to his room and sinks down against it. He tugs on his white hair so hard it hurts, but the pain isn’t enough to wash away the frustration bubbling in his chest. 

Why did he have to be so mean to you?

Maybe if he was nicer you wouldn’t hate him or his pact mark. Maybe if he was nicer to you he might actually have a chance of being with you. 

The sound of his voice rings in his ears, echoing off his skull. He hates it. He hates how mean he was to you, and the guilt eats him up. 

Finally, it becomes too much and he forces himself to his feet. He should apologize to you. Because Lucifer would kill him if he knew how mean he was being…not for any other reason. 

You open the door to see him standing in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up?” 

“I—Lucifer would be mad at me if I didn’t apologize to you,” he says, eyes focused on his shoes. “‘N I don’t wanna be strung up tonight so I’m sorry human.”

“It’s fine. Just—why were you so upset earlier, anyways?”

He shrugs his shoulders, still avoiding eye contact with you. How can he tell you that he’s jealous and angry that you don’t want to show off your pact mark? It’ll make him sound like a little kid. 

“Mammon, come on. It’s just me.”

He sighs, “not that I care but I don’t get why you hate my pact so much.”

You freeze, your blood like ice in your veins. All this time you’d been withdrawing from him, you knew he noticed but because he never said anything, it was easy to ignore. Not anymore. 

“I-I don’t hate it.”

“Then why do you never show anyone?”

“It’s just,” you shrug, “in a weird spot. I don’t know—I don’t hate it. I just don’t want to show it off.”

“Because it’s ugly, right?”

“Mammon—“

“Why would anyone want to be marked by Greed?”

“Mammon—!”

“Imma dirty scumbag anyway. Making a pact with you was the most selfish thing I ever did. Tying you to me for life, why would you ever want that?”

“Mammon, Jesus. Just listen to me!”

The demon stops his self deprecating rant, staring at you expectantly. He doesn’t know what you’re about to say, but all he can hope is for you to tell him that’s it’s not true. That it’s not ugly, that you want to be tied to him. 

Your words fail you. You interrupt his rant and suddenly your mouth goes dry under the gaze of his blue eyes and your words all fall away. Your heart beats a mile a minute, drawing more of your focus to the pact mark that connects the two of you.

You stare at each other for a minute, and then Mammon turns on his heel and storms out of the room.

It takes you a minute to process what just happened, and another minute for you to follow him. By the time you make it to the staircase, he’s already slamming the front door shut behind him. 

Everything is moving so fast. The illusion that you were protecting yourself from Mammon hating you has shattered—replaced by the realization that you’ve been hurting him this whole time. You can’t think of anything except for how to make this right. 

Without thinking about it, you follow him out of the door and into the streets of the Devildom. It’s dark out and you have to squint to see the familiar white hair receding into the distance. You pick up the pace, wanting to catch him before he disappears. 

You’ve never been outside alone before. It’s too dangerous, they always said. But that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now. All you want is to make things with him better. 

“Mammon!” You call, heading up the hill behind him. 

When you get to the top, the demon is no longer in sight. You spin around to see if he doubled back to the house, only to realize it’s no longer in sight either. The horrible realization that you’re lost starts to set in and you find yourself reaching into your pocket for your DDD—only to remember you left it in your backpack. 

There’s a hissing noise nearby and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable you are here. Without thinking, you start to run back the way you think you came. You hear two pairs of footsteps behind you, they’re gaining on you. Whatever is chasing you, it’s going to catch you. 

A clawed hand takes your back and hot pain erupts within you. You fall to your knees and scream, warm blood trickling down your back. 

You try to get back up but you’re shaking so badly that your knees refuse to cooperate. There’s two demons behind you, only vaguely humanoid with glowing eyes and flickering tongues. They’re speaking, but not in any language you understand. 

They circle around you, taking some sort of sick amusement in watching their prey cower. One of them lashes out at your chest, three claws slicing the front of your shirt and causing blood to pool down your chest and stomach. 

You reach up to clutch the wounds, your fingertips brushing against the golden pact mark. I’ll never get to tell him how I feel, you realize. 

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you murmur, tracing your pact mark one last time. 

A jolt of energy rushes through you followed by intense golden light in front of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting until it dims to open them again. When they’re open, you see Mammon in demon form, standing between you and your attackers. 

All it takes is a flick of his hand before they erupt into dust. You knew he was powerful, but seeing him in action only confirmed the fact. 

“Mammon..?”

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands frantic as they search you for injury. His fingertips fall on your open shirt and clawed chest. “You’re hurt…”

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you mumble. 

“I know.” He says, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

He scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to him. You’re sure your blood is dripping all over him and wrecking his new shoes, but you’re too disoriented to care. 

Mammon sets you down on the counter in the bathroom, “move your hand, alright? I gotta make sure you’re not gonna die.” 

Without thinking about it, you move your blood coated hand off of the pact mark. Mammon slowly peels off your shredded shirt, his eyes going wide when he sees what your hand was covering. 

Somewhat hidden by the blood and fabric yet unmistakable, is a golden mark. Not just any golden mark—his golden mark. His pact mark and its above your heart? 

His hands shake as they brush the outline of it. “My—my pact mark is on your heart?”

You bite your lip and nod slowly, looking anywhere but at him. 

Mammon is in complete disbelief. This whole time he thought his feelings were one sided, that you hated him and hated his pact even more. But to find out that it’s on your heart of all places—right as he almost lost you? He’s almost entirely overwhelmed by his feelings. 

His hands shake the whole time he bandages and disinfects you, his mind only set on the branding above your chest. When he’s done fixing you up, he can’t stop staring at it. 

“You got lucky that the Great Mammon was here to protect you today,” he tries to play it off. 

“I-it was only cause I summoned you with the pact.”

The mention of the pact makes his head spin again. His mouth is suddenly dry and his hands sweaty. 

“Mammon,” you mumble, still unable to look at him, “please say something.”

His voice is low. “Do you know what it means when a pact mark forms over your heart?”

You shake your head, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

He reaches out to trace the swirling lines of the mark, his touch featherlight. “It means I’ll always be there for you, y/n.”

His tone is serious, unlike anything you’ve heard from him before. You don’t dare move or interrupt him, wanting to hear what the demon has to say. 

“It means that I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he mumbles. “That I’ll take care of you no matter what. It means that you own me. It means that I—“ he swallows hard, looking at the floor. “I love you, y/n. Now and forever.”

You flinch at his words. They’re all you wanted to hear and yet hearing them has awakened something inside of you. 

Your eyes finally meet his. “You—you really mean it?”

“I love you,” he gently kisses the centre of his mark on your body. “I love you.”

“Mammon,” you say, “I love you.”

Mammon might burst at your words. He reaches up to cup your face, planting a needy kiss on your lips. His touch is desperate, needy, way overdue. You melt into him, his taste so familiar and comforting that you don’t need to think twice about it. 

Mammon smiles against you. If you had asked him a week ago, he would say that his pact with you was the most selfish thing he’s ever done. Looking at you now, though, he sees it as a sigil of his love for you, and what could be more selfless than that?

[redocity]

Hiii i love your writing!! Currently keeping me alive 😩 im begging for some angst hurt to comfort. Maybe something involving abby but ultimately a happy ending?

MOVING ON - E.BUCKLEY

buck was finally taking the step to move out of abby’s apartment, except it’s not exactly that easy.

WARNINGS: buck has a minor breakdown oops, minor abby slander, happy ending

buck x fem!reader II hurt/comfort Il 2.3k Il requests open!

a/n: thank you for the request! і love writing angsty stuff

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Buck had finally decided that he’d had enough.

He wasn’t going to wait for Abby to come home anymore. He needed to move on. It’d been almost five months since she’d left, and five months of the team trying to convince him she wasn’t coming back.

He’d given up trying to convince them all that their relationship was just ‘unconventional’ by now, and after a particularly lonely Friday night he decided it was time to make a move.

"Can you believe it? After five months? I’m finally moving out of her apartment." Buck lugs a half filled cardboard box over to the dining table, dropping it down with a thud.

“I’m proud’a you,” You tap his shoulder with your hand as an indication for him to move, laughing with a roll of your eyes. “Glad you actually got to this point,”

He makes no resistance to your silent instruction, shifting to lean his back against a clear area of the table and watching as you rifle through the box to properly organise his horrible packing job. "I know you were all sick of me moaning about her. I still can’t believe she just up and left me like that."

“It was definitely a dick move, but if we’re being honest here she didn’t deserve you anyway,” You wave off his unspoken apology for talking your ear off for the last few months with your hand.

“I just thought we were really something you know? Then she up and leaves out of nowhere,” Buck sighs. He was sick of her, he was sick of the fact she’d left him with nothing but a half-arsed explanation and an empty promise of them staying in touch.

But sometimes he can’t help but reminisce on how she used to make him feel and believe that maybe she really was going to come home. “She was supposed to be the one, I can’t believe I was so stupid."

“Unfortunately Buck,” You reach over the table to grab the packing tape, it making a harsh noise as you rip off a piece to tape the - now neatly organised - box. “That how real dating works,”

"No, this wasn’t ‘real’ dating. Real dating doesn’t involve her leaving after she said I could move in, she didn’t even say a real goodbye, I had to find out that she wasn’t coming back from an Instagram post of her kissing some random guy in Thailand." Buck’s voice plainly displayed his emotional exhaustion.

He didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, but it was just so hard to get her out of his head when he really thought that their relationship was going somewhere.

“Head up mister,” You tap your middle and index fingers against the underside of his chin with a sigh. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea,”

Buck laughed exasperatedly. He hated that quote, it always felt so insincere. Then again that was probably because he’s used it so many times in the past when turning down his previous hookups who wanted a more serious relationship.

Now he was on the other end of it, and it just felt ironic.

“You just don’t get it, we were a perfect match for each other,” Buck exhales dramatically, turning his head up to the ceiling. "She was beautiful. She was kind. She was smart. Our sex life was perfect, she was exactly who I was looking for but she left. She just up and left."

“It happens unfortunately,” You shrug your shoulders slightly. “Especially with someone who was dealing with so many personal issues like she was,” You give up on your organising for now as you entertain Buck’s want to get everything off his chest.

“Looks like you finally got a taste of your own medicine hey?” Your attempt at lightening the mood a little is met by a roll of Buck’s eyes and a sigh.

You had a point to an extent, he’d never really dealt with a real breakup before even though he’d been with plenty of other women. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone’s gotta experience heartbreak at some point, it’s part of your character development,” You mirror the way he’s leaning against the dining table yourself, pressing your lower back against the wood with your arms crossed.

"I don’t think I needed that character development," Buck sighed once again, "I wish I wasn’t experiencing it right now. I just wish she’d call me or even send me something, anything. Tell me she’s not coming back properly you know?"

He’d probably try to convince her into a long distance relationship if she did call him. But he wasn’t going to tell you that part. He was supposed to be moving on.

“I deleted her number from your phone so… she’s not going to,”

“You did what?” You could hear the immediate hurt in Buck’s tone at your confession, demonstrated further by the way his eyes turned to you in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, you are trying to physically move on,” You gesture towards the cardboard boxes that are littered around the apartment containing Buck’s belongings. “But you haven’t mentally moved on, you need both otherwise you’re gonna crash,”

Buck hated that you were right.

You were always right.

You always knew what was best for him when he didn’t even realise what was best for himself.

"I hate that all you do is say the right things at the right time."

“It’s a talent of mine,” You nudge him gently with a smile, again trying to lift up the mood a little.

Sometimes he hated that you were so kind too.

Some twisted part of him wished that you would do something wrong, that you would say the wrong thing and give him an excuse to let out all of his pent up frustration without feeling bad about it afterwards.

But you never did. And he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Then he started thinking about Abby again, of course he did. She was like a parasite that had burrowed a little cavity in his brain and wouldn’t leave no matter how many times he hit himself over the head.

He’d never had a truly vulnerable conversation with her when they were together. Not without the sole focus being on her or her mother’s health. He couldn’t remember a conversation that they’d had that was actually about his problems.

He couldn’t hate her for that. Of course not. She was going through a lot. But it really put into perspective who was the primary giver of their relationship. And it’s starting to make him question whether it was authentic in the first place.

Did she see it as a proper relationship like he did? Or was she using it as a distraction from all of the stress she had looking after her mother all the time?

He didn’t even realise he was tearing up until a drop of water hit the back of his hand.

“Are you alright?” You turned your head towards him after noticing how he’d gone quiet, his head lowered to a point where you couldn’t fully see the expression on his face.

“I don’t know-” His words said one thing, but the way he shook his head said something else. He was very clearly not okay.

“Buck…” You sigh softly at his tone, sounding a little forced as if he was scared of his voice breaking halfway through his sentence.

“Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked his question hesitantly, no longer trying to hide the wavering in his tone. He felt stupid for feeling like this over something that was seemingly so trivial to him in the past, but right now he didn’t feel like doing anything but crying until he physically couldn’t anymore.

He felt even stupider acting like this in front of you of all people. You’d dealt with enough of his baggage already, and he didn’t want to do to you what Abby had done to him in essentially using you as a human diary.

You don’t hesitate in your answer at all. “C’mere,”

You barely even open your arms before the space is filled by Buck, his head hidden against the shoulder of your t-shirt to hide his expression from you.

You lean your weight fully against the edge of the table as you envelop him into a hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back in your best attempt at physically soothing him as he lets out a soft cry into your shoulder.

A fully grown man crying into the arms of someone half his size because he couldn’t handle a breakup. Who would’ve thought?

The longer you held him the less he felt like he had to be embarrassed about it. Somebody had his back, and he didn’t ever want that to end.

“You’re gonna be alright,” The hand that wasn’t gently rubbing soothing lines over his back cupped the back of his neck, holding his head securely against your shoulder.

You knew he was going to break down eventually. You were just glad he had someone present during it.

"Thank you," Buck whispered to you as he began to calm down, "Thank you so much."

Embracing you felt like home, the first time in a long time that he’d felt like he had support. Like he could be himself.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go, and for the first time in a while he felt as if everything would be okay.

“Don’t mention it,” You make no move to pull away from the hug once he’s calm enough to speak to you again, content to wait until Buck was comfortable enough to pull away in his own time.

He didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Buck’s voice is muffled against your shoulder as he speaks, and he links his arms together behind your waist. “That would be nice,”

You laugh shortly at the question, your shoulders shaking slightly as you do and in turn jostling Buck slightly in your arms. “I think my legs would give out after a while, you’re heavy you know,”

"They’d get stronger eventually," Buck muttered, "We could work out together. I could train you."

Buck was enjoying this more than he wanted to admit but, as usual, his mouth spoke before his brain had a chance to control it. He was just glad that you hadn’t actually pulled away yet.

“You can’t train me to do anything if you won’t let go,”You continue to laugh softly at his proposition as your hand scratches gently at the hairs at nape of his neck.

“You can just hold me then,” He drops the idea almost immediately under the favour of staying securely in your arms.

He’d never hugged any of his friends like this before, although he supposes he’s never actually wanted to. But here he is nonetheless, and it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever been in his life.

He just wanted to stay in the little cocoon your arms provided him away from reality for the rest of his life, maybe longer than that. The only question was whether you’d entertain his idea of abandoning everything productive you were supposed to be doing so that he could satiate his desire to stay exactly where he was.

“Not standing up,” You shake your head against the side of his with a small chuckle. “My legs are already starting to hurt,”

“On the couch then? We can watch that movie you were talking about,”

“We still have packing to finish Buckley,”

“Tomorrow,” Buck shakes his head as he makes a move to separate himself from you, although not fully as his hands still lay carefully positioned on your sides. “I genuinely cannot do any more packing today,”

You raise an eyebrow at him and he tilts his head at you with a sigh. “Come on, humour me here I’m emotionally vulnerable,”

He slips one of his hands towards your wrist and gives it a small tug, his grip loose enough that if you wanted to pull your arm away from him you could do so with minimal effort. You don’t of course, allowing him to tug you forward until you’re not leaning against the table any more, your weight fully supported on your feet. “We can watch that movie, order a pizza and I can wallow in my emotions for a few hours until I’m mentally fit to continue packing,”

“Sounds like you’re just trying to procrastinate,” You furrow your eyebrows accusingly, but the smile on your face betrays your feigned scolding, just grateful that he was sound enough to joke about his own misery now that he’d actually had the chance to vent his emotions.

“Oh I definitely am,” Buck’s smile mirrors yours emphatically, and he starts towards the living room with your wrist in his hand so you’re ‘forced’ to follow him. “I hate packing, it’s boring and everyone always tells me I’m doing it wrong,”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Restless 🔞

In which Jungkook is simply restless, especially when making love to you.

Tags/Warnings: WAY MORE ANGST WHY IS IT SO ANGSTY, Idol!Jungkook, ADHD sex position challenge I guess?, Roma made me do it, obviously smut, multiple positions duh, primal feel?, angsty sex, denial is a river in egypt, protected sex (reader has an IUD), cum, body fluids oops, sweat?, he cums inside and outside lol, biting, manhandling, oops my hand slipped and now I wrote porn with feels again

Length: 1.6k baby, look at that

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶

In the time of knowing him, Jungkook had always been restless.

He can't sit still for long, can't concentrate on one thing only, has to do something at all times it seems. Only sometimes, rarely, does he become lazy or tired, it seems. You cherish those moments just as much as the rest of the time you spend with him.

Now, you and Jungkook aren't necessarily.. a thing, at least not traditionally. He worries a lot; about his job, about you, about what could happen to the both of you if anything ever went public. But there's also this sinful feeling of doing something you're not supposed to, like a kid sneaking candy behind their parents backs. There's no denial even for you that you can't help but go back every single time. The feeling of longing sometimes just.. overwhelming.

You know this is gonna hurt you at some point. Maybe it won't hurt him as much, but it will hurt you, most definitely. He's sacrificed a lot and often throughout his lifetime already- who says he won't sacrifice you as well?

He's an Idol, a performer, singer, entertainer. He's made for the stage, made to be loved by millions, and you'd never force him to forget about that and leave this life behind. No. He's got it all, and he deserves it all. It's going to be fine. You'll just enjoy the times you have with him, the memories you're making.

It's not just sex, after all. You both often simply spend time with each other as friends as well. And you believe that that's what he actually sees you as- a friend, who's just a bit more intimate than a friend should be. And while his love might just be a daydream made up by your head to make your heart hurt less, his lust for you is most definitely real.

You don't know why he finds you so attractive, and you'll probably never fully understand it. Maybe it's because you're.. there. You're available. You're all he gets in this life, without fearing the consequences.

Jungkook is an old-school romantic with a twist here and there. He holds doors for you, helps you sit down at the dinner table whenever he cooks, opens tightly closed jars for you. He's a horribly cruel man in that department- because he always gives you attention, and something that might feel like it could potentially be love- but it's not. It's just a plastic rose that's going to catch dust at some point, never to bloom and never to rot either.

It'll just be thrown away, polluting the environment. Just like him leaving you one day will pollute your heart with feelings heavy and burning like molten lava, merciless.

"I- fuck." He gasps out as he halters his hips for a second, grip on them loosening as he kisses down your spine, your back arching downwards as you fall into the pillows below, entire bed already a mess. He's out of breath, and so are you- but you know he's not done with you yet. He's never just a hit-and-run kind of guy. He works his body until it literally gives in, never satisfied with just a one-time-high with you.

And he's also a carnal lover, raw and untamed.

He bites your skin, marks it up for you to remember, but also for himself to admire. Unbeknownst to you, he's hopelessly in love with you, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, or scold his own emotions for acting out like that. You're just going to get hurt, and he knows this. He wants to end it every single time, but he also crawls back to you every night it seems, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, taste you on his tongue. He's starving, even though he's currently taking his fill.

Maybe that's why he feels so desperate every time he's with you like this. Maybe that's why he feels as if nothing is ever enough. As if he can't get close enough.

It scares him, admittedly.

With his hands on your hips, he slips out of your heat, obscene sounds accompanying every movement as he maneuvers you onto your back, hands pushing your knees apart in an impatient manner, before he slips back inside. With his knees digging into the mattress below, he holds your wrists close, pulls you into every thrust like that, jaw clenched and eyes unmoving, focused on you and the way you look.

Divine. Enchanting. Absolutely beautiful.

He wants to cry at how your skin seems like it's made of glass with the slight layer of sweat. He used to hate it on himself, used to hate it on others as well, but in a weird way, when it comes to intimacy with you, nothing seems to bother him at all. Not your slick coating his thighs. Not your spit drooling down his length whenever you give him head. Not the cum he covers you with at the end of every round.

He wants it all. He wants you.

His knees seem to ache after just a few moments, muscles itching to move in other ways as he pulls out yet again, making you whine. "I can't-" He stammers, unsure what he wants to say. He doesn't know why he's especially restless this time. It's like nothing feels quite right.

Until you climb onto his lap, pushing back his chest to get into a proper position to ride him. It's moments like these that simply hurt him, because you're always so attentive to his needs. You don't seem to need any verbal communication with him at all to know what he needs, what he wants.

And yet, you're oblivious of his feelings, or so he thinks.

He wants to keep you safe, hold you close, show you off and hide you at the same time. He just wants you, nothing else, and that's not just his lust speaking for him.

No, he's not like that. He knows what's right and what's wrong. He knows when to listen to his heart, and when to ignore it. But with you, he can't. It's all so loud, his thoughts, his feelings, his brain won't shut up about you it feels like.

He sits up with you again, pushes you closer by the small of your back, crosses his legs and finally kisses you again.

He keeps kissing to a minimum most of the time, hates how good it feels, how comfortable it is, how much it affects him. Your lips are so soft, moving in perfect sync, and when you tease his piercing or bite his lip, he just can't help but growl out because you just have to be sent from hell by the devil himself with the mission to drive him mad.

There's no way a person can fill his mind and body up like this simply by existing.

He's desperate by now. His cum already sticks to your tits, has already made its way down to your belly, some of it even rubbed off on his own chest, but he still isn't satisfied. He's close, so close, and his muscles are yelling at him to stop and rest, but he can't stop now.

"You close?" He murmurs between his open mouthed kisses, lips traveling along your jawline now before his head falls into the crook of your neck, teeth gripping any flesh he can as he marks you up. You just whine, and nod. You stopped trying to count your highs with him. It's surely never just one, however, that much you're sure of.

You know by now how to tell when he's close as well. His actual end, that is.

The muscles in his thighs tremble visibly under the stress he's forcing them under. The veins along his arms and hands are prominent, sweat dripping along his neck and chest. He will become more vocal, start to whine, even growl, hips becoming erratic as he collects every little last drop of strength to make sure you'll finish alongside him. "Hold it." He demands, teeth clenched together as he suddenly becomes more forceful, the sound of skin against skin loud and obscene echoing off his bedroom walls, as you whimper beneath him. "Fucking hold it.!" He growls out, palms grabbing your thighs before they slip beneath the small of your back, lifting you up a little for that very specific angle he knows will send him off the edge. "Cum baby, fuck!" He finally tells you, before your hips start to move erratically, no longer under your control as your orgasm hits you full force.

You don't notice the way his cum stays inside, this time. Because he doesn't pull out, keeps you close, falls to his side with you in his arms.

He doesn't know why he feels so incredibly emotional this time. As if he just cant hold himself together anymore, if he doesn't have his arms around you. The room smells like sex, air stuffy, bodies awfully slick from your entire endeavor. Usually, it ends like this. Usually, he will part from you, shower by himself to give you time to get your strength back up enough to clean yourself up after him. He hates leaving you on your own like that, wants to care for you before and after the act because that's how you're supposed to be treated, but he knows, the longer he keeps you close in a headspace like that, the more he will end up hurting.

But tonight, he can't bring himself to leave you.

Tonight, he holds you tenderly, kisses fluttering against your bare shoulder, as he feels your breath start to even out.

Tonight, he will clean you up first, before he will change the sheets and shower himself.

Tonight, he will let you sleep in his bed together with him while he airs out the room, cold chills forcing you both under the covers that smell like fresh laundry and unfulfilled dreams.

Tonight, he will let you have his heart.

Tonight, he will break.

And so will you.

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶

[tsireyqs]

but what about like a angsty smutty jake fic based off of false god by taylor 🤭 (OR TSU’TEY W! AVATAR READER???? like we’re not official na’vi and tsu’tey is like this is bad??? but they keep coming back to each other OHHHHHH)

naur but i saw false god and ran with it, kinda got carried away! oops!

reader is betrothed to add some spiciness

“I told you we couldn’t keep meeting like this,” you scold as you work a healing salve into the gash on Jake’s bicep.

 He hisses at the sting and lets out a huff, “I already told you. I’m not here for… that,”

“We both know that isn’t true. I know you, Sully. Always coming to me asking for my help,” you flick his side. “Is it no coincidence you’re only here when he isn’t?”

His ears droop down, giving you a side glance and remains silent. The feeling of your fingertips tickles and he couldn’t help the quick thump in his chest. He grimaces at the mention of your betrothed. 

There was something about you that was so magnetizing, harsh words contrast the sweetness of your movements as you work. He couldn't even be mad at other people for looking at you the way he did. Until it was too late. He felt as if his heart stopped beating when he found out you were promised to another.

You massage the salve into gash on his arm, ignoring the way your fingers sting against his skin. Jake’s tail fidgets behind him which caught your attention more than anything. He scrambles to figure out what to say before your voice interrupts his thoughts, “Spit it out.”

“Your…” He tips his head down to look at you and you look away. Taking a breath before he whispers, “Your husband… do you love him?”

This is uncharted territory. A part of him hoped your heart still held the same spot for him as he did you. Never did he want to admit the way he felt when he didn’t learn about your betrothal from yourself first. That feeling only burned deeper in his chest when you started avoiding him completely. He’d still look for you in a crowded room and brush his hand against yours when he walks past you. He still goes to the spot you used to meet in secret. Always looking over his shoulder in hopes to find you walking over to him with a wistful smile on your face like you used to.

But it was different now. Only seeing you in passing, and now when he comes back with the war party. If coming back with a few scratches meant he could feel your touch against skin, then he didn’t hesitate to jump headfirst into danger. 

“He’s not my husband-”

He interrupts. “Yet.”

“Jake,” your voice was clipped, tail swishing aggressively behind you. You ignore the hiss that escapes his lips as you tighten a bandage around his bicep. “He treats me well. I am happy.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Stop,” Your voice was breathy, eyes pleading with him. “Please.”

Jake deflated. He’d never heard you sound the way you did now. You’re always so loud, speaking with such confidence and now he could hear the exhaustion laced in your tone.

“If you want me to leave, then I’ll leave,” his eyes fix on yours and you feel like a bug under a magnifying glass at the way he looks at you. A shiver rolls over your shoulders when your name falls from his lips, “Leave for good. But just know that… you are the one I want and nothing can change the way I feel.” 

“You don’t mean that.”

His shoulders drop and he bites the inside of his cheek. “And if I did?”

“Then you’re foolish.” 

You drop your hands to your sides and Jake follows them, ghosting his fingers with yours. His voice rang in your ears. A bundle of emotions swirl inside you and all you could do was stand there. Guilt being the one that tugs harshly at your heart. You knew it wasn’t fair to your betrothed. He was the one you were promised to after all. Yet, you curse the way his hands feel against your body. Curse the way his lips brush against yours and the sweet nothings he whispers in your ears. Perhaps you would feel differently if it was Jake.

You knew you would.

Jake’s tail comes to a halt and he sighs. He hesitates for a second before he turns on his heel, his fingers linger with yours as he pulls away.

He could only take a few steps before he was pulled back. Your hand tugs on his wrist, fingers digging firmly into his skin. He looks between your hand and your face, you felt like you were about to crumble under his gaze.

Pulling him closer, he places a hand to rest on your hip and you whisper, “I’m sorry,” your fingers intertwine with his and your heart thumps frantically in your chest. “This is wrong, I know. Yet my heart can’t help but yearn for you.”

Jake pulls you closer to him by your hips and he presses his forehead against yours. Your heart skips a beat when he stares down at you, big amber eyes filling with something you couldn’t recognize. Your eyes drift lower to his lips, feeling your body sway. Hesitantly, you bring your hand to his face. Cupping his jaw in your hand and you ghost your thumb over his bottom lip. “Why do you look at me like that?”

He tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like you love me,” your voice is muted.

“What if I do?”

Your lips ghost up into a smile and you nuzzle your nose against his. “Then you’re foolish.” you repeat. 

His canines peer over his lips when he smiles down at you and he kisses your thumb. His hand that grips your hip cradles your face now, his eyes are soft as he admires the way yours sparkles in the moment. Jake finally dips down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand still holding yours.

You smile into the kiss and he does the same when your fingers thread into his hair. He gently maneuvers you to lean against the workbench behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. His lips leave yours and he laughs when he hears you whine. 

Jake’s lips leaves open-mouthed kisses to your neck and sinks to his knees as he descends lower. He peppers kisses to your lower belly, wrapping his arms securely around your hips and you coil your tail over his back to keep him flush against you. 

His teeth nip at the waistband of your loincloth before his eyes flicker up to you. His fingers hook under the band to tug them down your legs when you nod. He nuzzles his face into your belly and places a kiss to your hip. 

Goosebumps evident on your skin as Jake skates his fingers across your body. He thumbs your inner thighs and hums happily, “You’re so wet,” he trails his fingers to your pussy and applies subtle pressure to your clit. “I do this to you, huh?” he teases.

“Shut up.” You tug at his hair, a deep blush painting the highpoints of your cheeks. 

He smiles into your skin before he lifts you on top of the workbench. Your thighs hang over his shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips as his tongue gathers the slick leaking onto your inner thighs. Sucking a bruise into your skin before he presses a kiss to your clit and you lean back on your elbows, one of your hands discarding the fabric of your top.

The movements of his tongue are calculated, trailing over the spots that make you jolt against his mouth. He traces his name into your clit and hums when he suckles it into his mouth. You feel him smirk against you, your thighs squeeze around his head and he looks up at you through his lashes. His cock stirs when he sees your pretty face pinched up and your hands kneading at your breast.

His name is like a prayer singing from your lips as he works on your cunt. He hefts you higher on his shoulders, your hips lifting above the hard surface. Jake places a hand on the small of your back as he pulls you incredibly closer to his mouth, wanting to taste every bit of you. He swivels his tongue through your puffy folds and moans at the taste of your wetness. 

The bridge of his nose bumps against your sensitive clit as his tongue teases your entrance. A breath hitches in your throat when he eases it into you, one of his hands reaches to rub circles into your clit. Your hands fly down to his head as you feel the coil in your tummy about to snap, your fingers wind tightly into his hair. “So-- fuck! Making me feel so good, Jake,” 

Jake watches as your orgasm washes over you, one of his hands rubs up your thigh as he hums against your pussy. He places one last kiss to your cunt before he stands up between your legs. 

Your chest is still heaving when he spreads your pussy for him to see. His mouth nearly waters at the sight of your fucked out cunt, all red and puffy. He just wanted to drop back down to his knees and give you his tongue in all the right ways that makes you see stars. Until the only thing you could think about was him. 

His thumb delves in between your folds and he ghosts above your clit, making you hiss. “Sorry, baby,” he gives you an apologetic glance, amusement lacing his voice. “You’re just so fuckin’ pretty.”

He pulls you against his chest and tucks his face into your neck, sharp fangs nipping at your throat. Your hands reach down to palm over his bulge and you swipe a finger over the damped part of the fabric. “Let me take care of you,” you say as you try to pry away his hands on your hips. “I wanna taste you.”

“You know how much I love your mouth,” Jake’s lips turn upwards and he cradles the back of your head for you to look at him, his other hand toying with clit. “but I need to feel this sweet pussy, babygirl.”

You lean up to press your lips against his and fiddle with the knot in his loincloth. “Get this off, then.”

“Anything for you.”

He lets the cloth pool at his feet when you undo the ties. His hand reaches down to grasp the base of his cock, giving it one pump before he looks at you. Your pupils blown out wide and drool almost spilling from your lips as he pumps his hardened length. His thumb swipes the pre-cum pooling at the tip and he brings it up to your lips, “You said you wanted to taste, right? Open your mouth.”

You hollow your cheeks as you suck on his finger and hum at the taste. The heat between your thighs only grows when you feel him tap the head of his cock on your clit. You wrap your legs around his waist tightly, your ankles crossing on his lower back. 

His cock is covered by your slick as he glides in between your folds, his hands perched on your waist to keep you from squirming as he eyes your cunt. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says before prodding the head at your entrance. “and it’s all mine.”

You hold your breath in anticipation and your eyes fluttering shut, expecting him to ease into you. But he doesn’t. You peek an eye open to see where the tip of his cock rests on your pussy and you whimper, your nails clawing at his back.

His hand grips your jaw firmly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Say it.”

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest as his eyes bore into yours. His fangs peeks from his mouth as he bites down on his lower lip and you whine, “I’m yours.”

“Good girl.” 

He pushes into you in one movement as you take him greedily. Your moans intermingle with his when bottoms out, your arm wraps around his shoulders to pull him close to you. His hot breath fans against your lips and you kiss him, swallowing each other's cries.

Your breath is shallow as he feeds you deep strokes, his cock kissing the deepest parts of you that makes your head spin. Rocking your hips to meet his thrust, your arms tighten around his back and you squeeze around his length.

Jake grips the underside of your thigh as he moves his hips quicker, groaning when he hears their skin slap together. It sounded downright filthy matched with the sweetness of your pretty moans and his cock pulses inside of you.

“M’gonna cum, Jake! Please!”

A deep growl spills from his mouth as he grapples onto your hips, pounding into you hard enough to make you dizzy. Grounding you into the hardwood, each thrust knocking the air out of your lungs.

The feeling of your pussy contracting around him as the coil in your belly snapped was almost too much for him and his hips stutter. Panting into your mouth as he lets his cum fill you.

Jake lets his hips slow, gradually coming to a halt as you clung to him. He didn’t bother to pull out, not just yet. His forehead leans against yours, rubbing soothingly down your back as he coos in your ear and. Both basking in the blissfulness you had begun to know all too well.

“I think we could get away with it one more time.” he whispers.

[foodsies4me]

End of the Year Fic Recs!!!

thank you @echo-bleu for tagging me! <3

I adore this as a game because I love reccing fics (and really should do it more often because So. Much. Good.Fic). This is going to be all shadowhunters I'm afraid though because I am still very much in the shadowhunters brainrot stage and haven't read much of anything else. (Also, sorry to those I haven't left a comment for yet, I WILL, spoons have just been low this year...) Also, I'll try to keep it to one rec per author because there are so many wonderful authors, but definitely go check the other fics of these people (if you haven't already) they're all excellent.

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Running from the Night by @to-the-stars-writing. My forever fic spouse and the fic I reread themost this year goes to the fantastic, angsty Alec goes to live in a small village to get away from the Clave because the poor dude is traumatized fic from to-the-stars. This fic is my fics spouse (yes I got @to-the-stars-writing's permission to marry this fic) and I love, love, love it so much.

Flames to Embers by @notcrypticbutcoy: teenage!Alec is poofed into the timeline of his older self and it is lovely, sad, and heartwarming all at the same time. Also, teenage Alec is delightfully grumpy and Adult Alec is even more delightfully Done with teenage!Alec's grumpiness.

starshine and moonlight by she_who_reads (all_fandoms_reader) A three +1 fic where Alec isn't enough until he finally is. This fic is angsty and delves into Alec's (not all that great) self-worth issues and it hurts. Might or might not have cried reading it.

The Warlock's Cat by @dreaming-marchling. I hesitated a while which one I should pick from Marchling, but I ended up choosing this one (that said PLEASE go read Bleed for Me as well it is so goooood). The Warlock's Cat is a delightful "Alec gets turned into a cat and ends up in Magnus's care" fic. I adore it, and while it has its angsty or whumpy spots, it's mostly a nice, feel-good read.

Magnus Bane: Menace by AceOnIce To give some reprieve from all of the angst in this list, here is a fic of pure, unabashed fluff. Starring: Warlock Alec and Shadowhunter Magnus, the latter of which writes some truly ridiculous mission reports to HOTI Ragnor's grief.

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

The river cannot go back by @lawsofchaos1. Alec being Alec and completely in love with Magnus which leads to him committing treason like it's nothing. It is a short, brilliant fic that had me screeching like any @lawsofchaos1 fic does.

I'm finding it hard to breath by Honey_Hued_Hermes This one is pretty heave, but it does have a Hopeful Ending. Alec never promised he would tell Magnus if things ever got that bad...and sadly they do. Diving into Alec's Suicidal Thoughts and his Self-Harm tendencies.

A Most Fundamental Truth by autisticalec A missing scene from 2X10 when Alec tells Magnus that he's never been as terrified as when he feared Magnus had died from the Soul Sword. This one-shot dives into the "Alec was really very not okay emotionally" in this scene, so go read it!

The Difficult Task by @dani-dabbles: Another Alec is going through it emotionally fic (there are quite a lot of these on this list I just realized, oops). Thankfully, Magnus is there to offer support when Alec needs it because Magnus is still the best boyfriend. (also the repeated "not good enough"is evil and I am suing for emotion damages, please and thank you very much)

come to me (in the night hours) by @moonlight-breeze-44 Izzy is a supportive sister and is there emotionally for Alec right before his wedding to Lydia. This fic left me feeling all sad and weepy. This fic is technically part of a series, but as no other parts have been posted yet I am posting this in the one-shot part.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

I've Always Dreamed of Meeting Someone Like You by ColorfulWarlock A non-magical Alternate Universe this time around. Single-dad, fashion designer, and CEO Magnus needs someone to draw his designs for him after a hit-and-run leaves him unable to draw for himself. Insert Alec, the wonderful babysitter, and game designer who seems to understand what Magnus envisions and draw them into reality!

Angelus ex Machina by BlueA The series starts with the sudden disappearance of demon activity and the way that lack of activity impacts the local Shadow World. I love the way the parabatai bond is portrayed in this fic (especially in the third installment).

through the fire and pain by alxndrlightwoods is another parabatai-bond deep-dive that goes deep into how a parabatai bond can change shadowhunters. It also explains why, if parabatai are so powerful, there aren't that many of them. Love this fic!

i cannot touch because they are too near by @faejilly nobody manages to write poetry without writing poetry quite like @faejilly for me, seriously the words are always so beautiful I am in awe. This fic has to be my absolute favorite though because deep-dives into the parabatai bond are interesting to begin with but the way Jilly decides to do so in this fic makes it go from interesting to absolutely brilliant.

Greater Love Hath No Man by @lawsofchaos1 Okay, I lied, here is a second Laws fic, but considering this fic led to the demise of my laptop, I felt that it deserved to be on the list. (No, that wasn't a joke). Dad!Alec is forced to send baby!Max away to a warlock orphanage when his magic grows too strong for him and leaves him injured. The pain is real and it is excruciating, tissues are advised.

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

As much as I adore reccing fics, doing self-recs is awkward, so I'm going to keep this to one rec before I combust into flames.

All Was Golden (everyone has probably read that one already because it's my most-read fic which makes this slightly less awkward than reccing any other of my fics.) Anyway, soulmate AU with a kind of ugly meet that has some angst.

Tagging, without any kind of pressure, the authors I tagged in the rec-list (if they haven't participated already) as well as @miss-mouse.

[dirtytransmasc]

u got any hc’s for miles for earth 42 and miles from 1610 interactions? they’re besties to me fr fr

(first few are sorta theories for btsv, the rest are general hc's for their dynamic. these got kinda angsty, oops)

they definitely fight a few times before realizing they can be on the same side of things, Miles 42 being more the aggressor, but Miles 1610 wants to get even each time, cause he's a teenage boy, sue him. its in their moments of weakness that they start to see that they don't have to be enemies. they're also fair fighters, to some point, and fight generally clean, which definalty plays into their bond later on. there was always some level of mutual trust and respect.

its when they reluctantly team up and they get beaten to absolute pulps, and are forced to see each other as not only equals, but kids, both forced into lives they didn't want, or at least positions, they didn't want, that they start to bond.

its the act of picking each other up and dusting each other off that the bond cements, when Miles 1610 sees the kid in Miles 42, the kid that's tired and scared and not entirely there after living life hidden away in the back of his head that makes him extend his trust and his friendship. for Miles 42, its seeing Miles 1610 be so kind and good and trusting and strong, despite being a kid and being scared and tired and hurting, that makes him want to accept Miles' offer of friendship, and in a way, safety.

once they're friends, they're the definition of terror twins, like, generally they're sweethearts when not in combat, but they are capable of so much mischief, oml. and in combat, together, they're down right terrifying.

I totally think they would see each other like twins too, so they have such a brotherly dynamic in my mind. both are technically only children, so at first they're just kinda in this blissful awe of how nice it feels to not be alone in the world, to know they always have a shoulder to lean on, someone to protect them.

definitely both physically affectionate, and both of them have that AuDHD in them, so they spend a lot of their free time justlying in a pile somewhere.

Miles 42 does Miles 1610's hair and helps him with Spanish, in return Miles 1610 helps Miles 42 reconnect with his artistic side that had been buried while he was the prowler.

Miles 1610 sneaks him into HQ all the time, to the point that Miguel just gives the kid his own watch for the sake of his sanity.

it takes a while for Miles 42 to be down with intimacy of any kind, even just stuff like small talk and brushing shoulders, cause he feels like any attempts at connection from anyone is just them looking for a weak spot to use against him. Miles 1610 definitely helped him feel safe by just blabbering on and on about just about anything, making it abundantly clear that he trusted him (42) to keep his 'secrets' safe, and therefore he could trust Miles 1610 to do the same. once he's ok with small talk, they start tackling physical touch, slowly but surely. Miles 1610 is always supportive of him, always trying to understand better so he can be helpful, trying to make his 'twin' feel safe.

Miles 1610 forces Miles 42 to join his friend group, like he is so insistent that Miles 42 just caves. he doesn't regret it.

Miles 1610 is the more emotional protector, making sure Miles 42 feels safe and secure in a give situation and helping him get away and ground when he doesn't. Miles 42 is a physical protector, and he will end anyone who harms a hair on Miles 1610's head.

very competitive, in everything, absolutely everything.

steal from each other all the time, and almost never return the items.

Miles 1610 will indulge in childish things as if they're the norm for kids his age, so that way Miles 42 doesn't feel so ashamed of reliving the parts of childhood he lost.

they're both afraid of thunder and will huddle up under the covers during a storm. (once Miles 1610 has kindled a bond between his mom and especially his dad and Miles 42, they totally climb into their parent's bed, cause they're just big little kids and they want their parents when the thunder starts shaking the house ok? leave them be)

vigilante Miles 42, who tries to be someone Miles 1610 would be proud of, even in his fucked up dimension and with his already fucked up reputation.

they kinda forget they're basically the same person, so they're all ways surprised when the other likes the same thing or has the same habit, etc.

1610; orange cat. 42; black cat. vibes; amazing

it should be so obvious, but they do the good old twin switch every once and a while, sometimes just for shits and giggles to see how long it takes others to notice.

they guilt trip people when they take too long to notice. they don't actually care, they just think its funny.

they make each other more confident. Miles 1610 is less of a people pleaser and does more for himself. Miles 42 feels secure in being selfless and nice and having his own feelings on things.

for some reason, Miles 42 is really good with babies, and Miles 1610 is subpar at best (he's better with little kids, not babies) and they always babysit mayday together.

they're with each other more often than not. especially after migeul just gives up on trying to keep him off of missions, cause it takes more time and effort to do so, especially when he ultimately fails every time.

Miles 42 blackmailed Miguel into apologizing to Miles 1610, while he was already in the process of apologizing... he just wasn't doing enough in Miles's mind, he needed a little push, a little reminder of what would happen to him if he chickened out.

thats all I've got for now, hope you enjoy my brain worms.

[cowgurrrl]

Pine Point

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: 😮‍💨 (ps fic is named after this song)

Summary: You and Joel deal with the aftermath of your accident [4.7k!!]

Warnings: hospital settings, a very quick mention of a miscarriage not experienced by the reader, questionable Hollywood motives once again, quick mention of Ellie’s foster home situation, kinda angsty actually, arguing (oops), language, not a super cohesive ending

Joel stays with you all night and into the morning. You're not sure if he got any rest while sitting in the uncomfortable chair next to your bed, but you know that he never let go of your hand. Every time you woke up from a bad dream or because a nurse was prodding at you, the callouses on his hands helped remind you that you were safe. He asked questions about your injuries and what recovery would look like for you. He listened, watched, and even recorded the nurse's voice (with her permission, of course) so he could reference it later. You wonder if he did the same thing when Sarah was born. You imagine him, eighteen years younger, furiously scribbling down notes on the best way to swaddle his newborn daughter. The image makes you smile, and when Joel asks what you're smiling about, you shake your head and mumble, "Nothing."

Carolina, being the goddess that she is, stops by your house to get you a clean change of clothes before stopping by her own house for Ryan. Joel helps you change into sweatpants and a flannel button-up from your house. He recognizes it but doesn't say anything or try to take it back; he actually smiles when he pulls it out of the bag. "Looks better on you," he mumbles as he kisses you and tugs the fabric over your shoulders, shaky fingers buttoning the shirt closed for you. The air seems lighter, and the hospital less stuffy in the morning light. Your body is still sore and aching as you sit on the edge of the hospital bed, but you're in better spirits. You're ready to go home and put this all behind you.

"Hey there, stranger," a gravelly voice says, and you turn to see Carolina wheeling Ryan into your room in a wheelchair. Your tear ducts betray your better mood, and you immediately burst into tears at the sight of him. He's bruised and swollen and stitched up, but he's alive. You step off the bed with Joel's help and bend to hug him, sobbing into his shoulder. You think Carolina and Joel exchange hugs and cheek kisses, too, but you can't see through bleary eyes. Ryan reaches up and smooths your hair down like he does and has done every single time he's ever held you while you cried. For some reason, the gesture makes you even more emotional. "I knew I looked bad, but I didn't think it'd be enough to make you cry." He says, and you laugh.

"Shut up," you sniffle as you step back to look at him, carefully wiping tears from your puffy face. Ryan grabs your hand and kisses the top of it. "Besides, I look like shit, too."

"Never." He smiles, and you take a deep breath. You look up at Carolina and swallow thickly. She looks exhausted, her hazel eyes more brown than anything under the hospital lights, and her lips are cracked from pulling at the skin all night. You stare at her, and she stares back, and something unspoken passes between you. Joel keeps you upright, and Ryan holds your hand in his as you hug her as tight as you can and fight more tears. She rubs your back and gently rocks you back and forth like a baby. You've always said Ryan and Carolina were your Mom and Dad friends because they are so parental and nurturing, but it feels especially true now.

"I'm so sorry." Your voice catches in your throat, and you feel her shake her head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You're not the one who ran the red light." She says.

"But, I should've been paying attention. I should've seen him coming. I should've,"

"You're both safe. You protected Ryan the best you could and brought him home to me. There is nothing more I could've asked of you, okay? "

"He could've died," you say. Carolina says your name quietly, like she's scolding you, and pulls your face out of her neck, her hands framing your face. Ryan squeezes your hand, and you pinch your thigh with your other hand to stop crying.

"This was an accident. You didn't get in the car thinking someone was gonna hit you, right?" She asks, and you shake your head. "But when you did get hit, the first thing you did was check on him. You did everything possible to make sure he was taken care of because you are a good fucking friend. Maybe one of the best. So, I don't want to hear you apologizing because I should be thanking you." She hugs you again, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you feel like she's pressing all your broken pieces together again. 

You could probably count on one hand the number of times she's hugged you like this. Once when she and Ryan got married, and you managed to keep her divorced parents from fighting the whole night with copious amounts of liquor and strategic pulls to the dance floor. Once when she had a miscarriage about a year before they had Elizabeth, and you flew home early from shooting in Maine to be with them. You weren't supposed to see them for another two months, and she broke down the second you stepped into their bedroom. And once, when your childhood dog died, and you couldn't make it home in time to say goodbye. Pieces of each of you that you never thought would ever come close to resembling what they used to have been meticulously pulled back together by each other. You can't go back and stop the accident from happening, but slowly, you can let yourself be put back together. 

"I love you," you whisper, and she kisses your temple.

"I love you, too." 

After a few more minutes of crying and hugging, Carolina and Ryan go home. You promise to come over and see them once you feel a little stronger, but they don't rush you. Joel hands you a tissue once they're down the hallway, and you smile before taking and wiping it under your eyes and nose. 

"Feel better?" He asks, and you nod. You step into him and rest your head on his chest. It's partially so you can be close to him and partially because your body hurts too much to stay upright anymore. 

"Thank you," you say. He kisses the top of your head and tucks your hair behind your ears so he can see you clearly.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I want to," you look up at him, and he smiles. Your phone buzzes on the side table, and you reach for it, but Joel stops you. His smile has dropped, and he suddenly looks worried. You furrow your brows and glance between him and your phone. "Joel, what's up?"

"Mel called this morning," he says, and your heart immediately sinks. "Um, she asked if you and Ryan would be ready to do reshoots in two weeks." You nod and bite the inside of your cheek before laughing. You feel crazy standing there, laughing so hard that the ache in your chest blossoms into sharp pain. Joel says your name softly, and you shake your head.

"I just had the scariest experience of my life, and the only thing she called to ask about was my fucking reshoot schedule?"

"I told her to wait."

"No, that's not how it works with her. She needs an answer immediately, or she doesn't get auditions, and if she doesn't get auditions, then I don't work, and she drops me," you scrub a hand down your face and take a deep breath. "I'll call her when I get home."

"What're you gonna say?"

"I'm gonna say yes."

"What?" He asks. "You just said this was the scariest experience you've ever had, and you wanna just go back to work?"

"I don't have a choice. The entire schedule gets thrown off if we don't go in and do whatever they need us to do. Thousands of people are relying on us so they can make money to feed their families. If I say no, production gets halted, it takes longer to get the movie to screens, and we lose money," you shrug. "And they'll put makeup on the bruises and stuff. It'll be like it never even happened. Just how they want it."

"You don't have to go through with this. I'm sure Mel would understand." He insists. 

"You don't know Mel, then," you say. "I'll message her later. It's easier to just shut up and do it than fight about it."

"But-"

"It's fine, Joel. Please, just drop it." You blame your brain pulsing against your skull and the searing pain in your knees for snapping at him. It's not what you wanted to say, but you're so tired. And angry. And in pain. You pull away from him and sit back down on your hospital bed as a nurse comes in with your discharge paperwork. She's incredibly cheerful for ten in the morning. It almost hurts your head having to listen to her describe different types of infection and how to prevent it. Joel nods as she speaks, obviously taking in every piece of information he can and clutching the paperwork to his chest. 

"Other than that, I think you guys are good to go. Do you have a way of getting home?" The nurse asks you.

"I'm takin' her back to my house," Joel answers, and you have to bite your tongue before you say something about him speaking on your behalf. The nurse leaves you with a wheelchair so you don't have to walk all the way to the car, and you look at Joel.

"I can take care of myself,"

"I know you can," he says as he begins gathering your things around the room. "I just wanna take care of you, too." He's being incredibly kind and helpful, you realize that, but that does nothing to stop your frustration with the whole situation. 

Mel will always be Mel, this much you concluded years ago. But Joel butting into your professional life feels like a step too far. You know this business like the back of your hand. He doesn't. It's unfair for him to try to tell you how to deal with your agent when he doesn't know the repercussions. He doesn't understand just how many people are relying on you and Ryan to come back to set for a few reshoots. It would literally waste hundreds of thousands of dollars in studio money to push this back. Answering the nurse's question without consulting you first did nothing to make you feel better. 

Joel seems to notice the silence filling the space between you at the same time as you because he turns and leans down so he can look you in the eye. All your things are stuffed into the huge bag Carolina fished from your closet, and the hospital room looks identical to when you arrived. Joel takes a deep breath and grinds his teeth as he thinks.

"Please, let me take care of you." He says quietly, his tone gentle and borderline begging. Nobody's taken care of you during a sickness or an injury since you left your parent's house. Especially after you started becoming more famous, you didn't want anyone to see you in that vulnerable state and exploit it. People like you are expected to suck it up, keep going and hope it'll go away in a week or two. 

This is different. This is letting Joel assume responsibility for you for at least a few days, something you're sure you'll feel horrible about after the fact. This is staying at his house, eating his food, and sleeping in his bed because you're too wobbly to do those things alone. This is trusting him way more than you ever have. But he wants to. He told you he does. He took notes on how to change the bandages on your fucking stitches. He obviously cares. So, why does this feel so hard? You sigh and swallow your pride, and nod.

"Okay."

Joel's house is not what you expected it to look like. Most musicians you know stick to a very sleek, very boring black and white theme for their homes. White couch, black coffee table, white rug, black piano, white walls, black art. It's typical and almost a running joke between you and your friends each time you end up in a musician's house, but Joel's is different. His house looks lived in with scattered shoes by the door, backpacks slung over chairs, and colorful art on the walls. Some frames depict vast Texas landscapes or longhorns mean mugging the camera, while others are just abstract, bright paint splashes. There are smaller ones, too, with Ellie's loopy signature at the bottom. The couch is oversized and plush, with pillows and blankets nearby for movie nights. Report cards and family pictures hang on the fridge via silly magnets from different states and countries. You realize it feels like a real home after your first night.

You've gotten into a routine by the third day at Joel's house. Joel will wake up before you, sneak out of bed to make breakfast, and gather the pills you need to take to get through the day. Sometimes, he brings it to you, and other times, he helps you down the stairs and into the kitchen. You'll drink coffee and eat breakfast together as the sun slowly peeks over the Los Angeles skyscrapers. After you eat, he'll check your stitches and change the bandage to ensure they're healing correctly. Then, you'll just sit together and hold hands until one of the girls stirs awake, and you get to watch Joel be a dad. 

Sarah is the next one up every morning, but especially this morning, walking down the stairs a full hour and a half before school starts and giving Joel the rundown of her schedule for the day as he makes her breakfast. She asks how you're feeling and then makes sure her dad gave you your medication. You really can take it yourself, but watching them work together to make sure you're alright is sweet. They tease each other for a while before Joel checks his watch and curses under his breath, making his way to the stairs after kissing your and Sarah's foreheads. 

"I'm surprised he doesn't just yell up the stairs for her. That's what my dad used to do." You say as you sip what's left of your coffee, and Sarah shrugs.

"He doesn't yell very often. It scares Ellie. Besides, she wouldn't wake up even if he did." She says nonchalantly, and you immediately want to stuff the words back down your throat. 

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't know," she shrugs, and you shake your head. "In the wise words of Hank Miller," she says before assuming a slouched posture and putting a hand on your wrist. "You're too hard on yourself, darlin'." You laugh at her Texas accent but still can't shake the feeling that you keep getting this— your relationship with the girls— wrong. 

"Well, your grandfather sounds like a very smart man."

"And he's right, y'know," she says, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes. You wonder if she can see right through you like Joel can. "The whole time you've been here, you keep apologizing."

"I only apologized once this morning."

"Yeah, to me. How many times have you apologized to my dad?" She asks, raising her eyebrows, and you sigh. "It was a family decision to have you come stay with us. Three out of three Millers voted yes. I promise it's really okay."

"It's not that." 

"Then, what is it?" 

"I don't... I've never..." You struggle with the words. "I've never dated someone with kids, and I don't want to overstep or make you guys feel like I'm taking your dad away from you. I don't know how to do this, so I keep saying things and then just feeling stupid or like I messed up. Like I should've remembered the thing about Ellie's foster homes." You don't know why you're disclosing all the information to an eighteen-year-old, but she seems receptive. 

"Ellie doesn't want any of us to treat her differently because of her past, and I'm pretty sure if you tried, she'd rip you a new one. The fact that you're even trying makes such a difference. My dad has dated... some really not great people he never even told about us. But not only do you know about us, you care about us enough to freak out about us, which is totally unnecessary, by the way," she says. "My dad, Ellie, and I are a team, and we have been for a really long time, so we were a little worried when he told us he was dating again. But he's so happy. Like annoyingly happy." You both laugh at that and feel the weight on your shoulders ease off. 

"And Ellie and I kinda agreed that as long as you made my dad happy, we'd find a way to be happy for him, but you make it pretty easy. I like having you around. We both do."

"Yeah?" You ask, and she hums with a big smile on her face. You bump her shoulder with your own and smile too. "I like having you around, too." 

"So, no more worrying about us, okay?" 

"I can't guarantee anything, but thank you. I really appreciate you saying all that." 

"You're welcome." She says as you wrap an arm around her shoulder and kiss her temple. Joel walks back into the kitchen with a knowing look but doesn't say anything, and you wonder how much he heard. A groggy Ellie, still in her pajamas, trails behind him and blindly reaches for the orange juice in the fridge. 

"Oh, motherfucker," Ellie mutters as she sloshes around the last inch of orange juice. She holds up the mostly empty container and gives Joel a deadly serious look. "This is child abuse."

"That ain't child abuse," Joel says, already halfway to the garage. Ellie rolls her eyes before landing on you and softening.

"How're you feeling?" She asks, and you laugh.

"Better after watching you fuck with your dad."

"He's easy to fuck with," she says as the garage door opens again and Joel's footsteps get closer. "Watch this." 

"Here you go," Joel says, handing Ellie a new container of orange juice. She furrows her eyebrows and looks at him.

"I didn't ask for this."

"What? Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, my God, Dad's losing it." Sarah chimes in. Joel looks confused and like he's genuinely trying to remember if Ellie asked for it, and you can't stop the snort from leaving you.

"You little shit," Joel says, making Ellie laugh. Then, in the blink of an eye, Joel tickles Ellie, and her screeching laughter fills the kitchen. You and Sarah laugh, too, especially when the laughter turns into squeaks. Ellie tries to slip out of his grip, but he picks her up, hauls her over his shoulder, and makes for the backdoor. 

"Joel Miller, do not throw your daughter in the pool!" You yell, and he groans before turning back around and dumping a still giggling Ellie on the couch.

"You win this round, kid," Joel points in her face before kissing her cheek. "Alright, we're gonna have to leave for school soon. Can you be ready in thirty minutes?" 

"Yes, I'm not Sarah."

"Hey!" Sarah shouts as Ellie runs back up the stairs to get dressed, giggling the whole way to her room.

As you and Sarah talk about school, Joel puts eggs, bacon, and toast on a plastic plate for Ellie to eat in the car, forever worried about her missing meals. He takes a little longer than he needs to so he can watch how you two interact, his eyes twinkling in the sunshine. You and Sarah have been friends from the jump, but you have to admit that there's something a little more sacred about her letting you into her space. You and Sarah do your best to ignore his puppy dog eyes, but when Ellie comes downstairs with her backpack slung over her shoulder, she makes a face.

"Why do you look like that?" She asks, making Joel quickly snap out of it.

"Why do you look like that?"

"That's so funny. Did you come up with that yourself?" She rolls her eyes. Joel does a squeaky, high-pitched voice to mock her as he grabs his keys from the counter. He walks over and pecks your lips before walking to the front door.

"Alright, Miller bus is leavin'! Let's roll out!" He yells. The girls bid you a quick goodbye before chasing after him, leaving you completely alone in the house. 

After putting your dirty dishes away, you venture through the house now that you feel a little stronger. You start at the fridge, looking through all the little pictures and magnets deemed worthy of being seen daily. You decide that your favorite is the one of Joel, Tommy, and the girls at the Grand Canyon. It looks like it was taken a few years ago based on the babyish plumpness of Ellie's face and the braces on Sarah's teeth as she smiles. Joel is squinting in the sun, but he's so completely in his element in the desert with his family, hands on the girls' shoulders. It's pinned to the fridge with a Washington, D.C. magnet depicting the Lincoln Memorial. 

As you glide through the house, you keep finding new favorites. Many other celebrities you've met either don't hang up their family photos because they run the risk of ruining the aesthetic of their home or because they don't want people to see them. Joel, however, has massive frames holding multiple pictures of his family throughout the years. A picture of a much younger Joel with a baby strapped to his chest sets you back on your heels because of just how little he looks. He can't be older than twenty-three as he poses, one hand on baby Sarah's back and the other holding a diaper bag. You watch them grow alongside each other as you move down the wall. 

You see pictures from an elementary school career day where Joel and Sarah pose with different tools. Pictures of Tommy, Joel, and Sarah lined up for what looks like a Fourth of July parade when Sarah was a toddler, her chubby hands latched to her dad's as she sat on his shoulders. Then, suddenly and without warning, a round little face framed with wavy brown hair enters the pictures, but it feels like she was always meant to be there. There's a framed photo strip of the three of them making goofy faces at the camera and pretending their dad isn't cool as he kisses their cheeks and rests his head on Ellie's shoulder. You feel almost emotional looking at the worn photos and seeing their love for each other transcend a camera lens. Though, a buzzing in your pocket stops you from thinking any more about it, and you roll your eyes as you read a text from Melanie.

Heard what happened. I'm so sorry :( I got all those pictures from the crash taken down 👍 Still good for reshoots in two weeks?

You sigh and type out a response as the front door opens and Joel walks back in. 

"What're you doin'? I thought you'd be in bed." He says, and you shake your head.

"I wanted to snoop, and I'm responding to Melanie about scheduling." 

"Oh, good. When are you gonna move reshoots to?" He asks as he walks over, his keys still jingling in his hands from dropping off the girls. 

"I'm not moving them."

"What? I thought you were gonna try and change it." He says as you press send on your message confirming the dates and look up at him, confused. 

"I never said that." 

"We talked about it at the hospital."

"Yeah, but I never said I'd change the time just because you didn't agree." You say, and he scoffs. You tuck your phone away and cross your arms over your chest while he searches your face like he's waiting for the punchline to a joke he's never heard. When it doesn't come, he shakes his head.

"Wow." He breathes, and you furrow your brows.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Something."

"I just can't believe you didn't even try to fight her on it." He says in a frustrated tone, and you give him three beats of silence to rethink what he just said. 

"Melanie can be a bitch, but she's also responsible for my career. If I fuck her over, I fuck myself over." You say when he doesn't backtrack.

"Is that what she told you?" 

"Joel," you warn, but he doesn't stop.

"If you keep goin' like this, it's gonna kill you. Do you realize that?" He asks incredulously, and you throw your arms up.

"We are in entirely different worlds when it comes to our careers, so can you please stop telling me how to run mine? I don't get on you this much about your job."

"Because I don't work myself to the bone like you do."

"You're right. You don't," you snap, and he takes a deep breath. You're not quite sure where to go from here. You don't know if this counts as a fight, but you know you feel bad. "I already confirmed. I can't change it now." You say softer than the harshness that took over your voice moments ago.

"Okay," he nods. "Then, 'm comin' to set with you because we both know that if somethin' goes wrong, Mel isn't gonna do shit to help you." He says, all of his frustration pointed at your manager now, and you want to argue that what he said isn't true but can't find the words. You think it's because, deep down, you know he's right, but you won't say it. Not now. So, instead, you just nod and unclench your jaw.

"Fine." You say as you pull out your phone to add an addendum to your previous confirmation. Joel walks into the kitchen and puts his keys on the counter before leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. Once you're done typing, you look up and stare at him, watching the gears in his head shift.

"I really thought the car accident would've made you wanna slow down or, at least, take the time to recover. Make you see there's more to life than just work." He scoffs, and you bite your tongue so hard you taste blood. You move from your place by the photos and reach the bottom of the stairs, fighting tears, before you turn to him. He hasn't moved, but he's watching you.

"I hope you know that was a really fucking shitty thing to say to me. I would never take something like this and spin it against you because I care about you."

"I do care about you."

"Then, let me do my fucking job and stay out of my way." You walk up the stairs with a little stomp in your step. It feels very juvenile and petulant, but you're pissed and embarrassed. Who is he to dictate what you do and when? It's none of his fucking business how you run your own career. Who is he to make you feel bad for working? To fight with you about something that doesn't concern him? 

Still, even as these angry thoughts spiral in your mind, you cry the second you close the bedroom door behind you. The physical pain, nightmares, arguments, and guilt eat you from the inside out. And as you sit in that big house overflowing with love so real you can feel it in the floorboards and the man who showed up at the hospital for you downstairs, you feel completely and utterly alone for the first time since you signed your name on that stupid contract. 

[omgstarks]

Shadow of Doubt (Stephen Strange x Reader)

Summary: A hidden revelation about Stephen's attendance at Christine's wedding casts a shadow of doubt on your relationship, provoking emotions of insecurity and uncertainty.

Warnings: SMUT over 18+ ONLY, creampie, unprotected sex, porn without plot, hint of angst

A/N: this was supposed to be a short, angsty drabble, but I got caught up in the smut oops (but not really) also just wrote quickly so if you see mistakes, what mistakes?

----

“Sweetie?” You heard Stephen call from outside the bathroom. You wrapped yourself in a black robe before stepping out to meet him. 

“Stephen.” You gave him a smile, knowing full well that he had just been at Christine’s wedding. It was just last week you noticed a card sticking out from his coat pocket. Upon further inspection, you read it as an invitation card to Christine’s wedding. 

He rarely spoke of her with you, just saying she was an old co-worker who he used to date in his surgeon days. But a part you knew it was something more. From the broken watch he still wore on his arm, to this, you knew very well Christine wasn’t just some ex.

He moved across the room and hugged you tightly. You wondered if he had spoken to her today. If he felt a sense of regret letting her go seeing her in a white dress. If he even loved you. 

“I’ve missed you, sweetie.”

“Yeah? Busy day today?” You replied, trying to remain oblivious. He only nodded, dodging the question all together.

“Just needed to see you.” He kissed your cheek and rested his forehead against yours, holding you by your waist. You grazed your fingers against the side of his face, studying his features carefully. He took your head in his grasp, his fingers weaving through your hair before he kissed you. You leaned into him, submitting to his passionate kisses, moving your lips in tandem of his. 

Stephen pulled away slowly, looking down between you and moved his hands down to the knot at your bathrobe. He slowly loosened it, opening it with ease. He pushed his hands between the silk fabric and touched your bare skin. His warm touch always made you quiver slightly, which he was able to calm with his lips. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving his hand around your waist-  squeezing firmly. 

Stephen looked up at you with his cold, blue eyes. It expressed a particular longing expression- one of which you knew he wanted to take this further. He rested his forehead against yours once again as his hand slowly moved down from your stomach. Slow and careful until he brushed his middle finger against your sensitive bud. He pushed it back and forth, teasing your slit until you coated his fingers in your slick. He watched your every reaction intently, gauging when to slow or to move faster.

You bared your neck to him as your head fell back and let out a soft moan.  He continued his work between your legs, moving his lips to latch on your neck. His fingers thrummed against your clit, as they circled around it. 

With the other arm, Stephen wrapped it around your waist and lifted you up, placing you gently down on the bed. He pushed the robe off your shoulders, moving his lips down from your collarbone to your shoulders. He made sure both sides were taken care of, then helped you to lean back onto the bed. 

With a sudden change in pace, he quickly removed his clothes and got on top of you, spreading your legs wide with his knee and settling down between your legs. You looked up at him and saw a primal hunger on his face. Before you knew it, he was pushing his cock into you, desperate to be wrapped in your heat. And you let him. He grunted with every thrust, trying to chase his high. 

You reciprocated his hunger- hooking your legs behind his, pulling him close to you, wanting to be engulfed by him. Although, a part of you still hung on those questions but in this moment, it was only you and him.

He breathed against your temple, his breath hot and wet against your skin. You took his face in your hands, kissing his deeply, you took his bottom lip between your teeth and playfully bit it. This only made Stephen more lustful, his eyes growing darker as he claimed you. 

His movements started to become erratic, almost animalistic as he chased his release. His hold on your waist would probably leave bruises in the morning. The sweat that was beading above his brow fell onto you with every thrust.

He moaned and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. After a couple more thrusts, he stilled and you could feel his cock twitching with every spurt of his cum.

“Oh fuck-“ He grunted through his teeth before collapsing on top of you. He kissed you messily before rolling off and settling by your side. 

You remained on your back, laying in the silence apart from heavy breaths. After a couple minutes, Stephen turned to you and smiled with closed eyes and an exhausted expression.

“I love you, y/n.” He spoke before drifting off. Your mind lingered on that statement, constantly fighting whether it was really true or not.

A flicker of doubt crossed your face, a silent reflection of the turmoil within your heart. Knowing his secret attendance at Christine's wedding had shattered the trust you had in him and made you question any authenticity of his past and future affections. 

Could you ever truly trust Stephen again? Or would the ghost of Christine forever haunt your relationship, a constant reminder of a love that never truly belonged to you?

[tonowarii]

Hi! Can i ask a fic for tsireya? 😭 I read all of them and I need more. Where reader accidentally ignores tsireya and continues to hang out with their other friend, tsireya gets jealous and ignores reader and reader gets all sad and confused on why tsireya's ignoring them and more fluff

oop

likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are most welcome and appreciated! let me know your thoughts!

Clueless

tsireya x gn! metkayina! reader

wc: 1.6k

warning/s: angsty, swearing, reader ignoring tsireya, sad tsireya, hurt/comfort, fluff

gif is mine! (i want to give her a hug aaa look at her :<)

As the all-famous saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

But as for Tsireya, your own curiosity was beginning to be her own kryptonite.

The Sully’s arriving was both a blessing and a curse. At first Tsireya had welcomed them with open arms, so did you. Unlike his brother and his friends.

However, in the following weeks they had stayed, you and Tsireya were interacting less.

You were always with the Sully’s, always asking them about the life in the forest and such. Tsireya could admit that she had the same curiosity, however, they were beginning to get closer to you.

Tsireya was starting to not like it at all.

Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely is kind and respectful, but when her significant other’s attention was beginning to be a contest, well…

She’s bound to get jealous.

How could she not? The times where she’d make plans for the both of you, you either end up having your schedule suddenly full, or it was one of them asking you to go with them.

Nonetheless, a sad kind of jealousy settled within her, thinking back to your last interaction, exactly just a few minutes ago.

“(Y/N)... wait up!” Tsireya said, running over to you as you turned to the sound of her voice.

“Reya, hey!” You greeted her by grabbing her hand and kissing the back of her hand, something you had taken a liking to do.

Tsireya’s cheeks turned a shade darker but she smiles. “I thought we were supposed to hang out today?”

She then saw your face contort into realization, but before you could speak, Tsireya from the corner of her eye, could spot Tuktirey.

“(Y/N)! Let’s go they’re going to leave us!”

Tsireya then watched as you turned your head towards Tuk, then back at her, with a new look on your face.

Apologetic.

“Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo’ak wanted me to teach them a few tricks on their ilus and I had already promised them,” You began, frowning when you saw Tsireya do the same. The smile on her face long gone.

“But you could come! Come on, it’ll be fun.” You tried cheering her up, holding her hands.

Tsireya puts on a fake smile, although on the inside she felt like her heart was being squeezed out. She missed hanging out with you and you only. No one else. But it seems like she was the only one with that feeling.

With a fake smile on her face, she shakes her head, slowly pulling away from your grasp.

“That reminds me, mother just asked for me earlier, I should go check on her… but you guys have fun!”

And the worst part is, you didn’t even question her.

You nodded in understanding, a genuine smile on your face that Tsireya just wanted to erase right now.

“Ahh, okay then, but tell your mother I said hi—"

 You got cut off by Tuk calling out for you again. You laugh and look at Tsireya.

“We’ve got to go, but I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.” You said goodbye with a quick kiss to her cheek, smiling at her before you were turning around and catching up with them.

Tsireya stood there, watching your retreating form, her lip almost quivering as she hid her true emotion.

Now a few days had passed and it seemed like you had completely forgotten about her at all.

If you didn’t miss her, then why should she?

Then Tsireya had come up with a plan, even if this plan hurt, it would slowly but surely have you coming back to her in no time.

Going back to you, you had hung out with the Sully’s more often, trying to teach them other stuff that wasn’t taught by Rotxo or Aonung before.

However, there was a point in time when you had begun to wonder where was Tsireya.

You had begun to also miss her presence, you did your tasks daily, but this time the only difference was- there was no Tsireya in sight to talk to you, or even just to keep you company.

You tried to look everywhere you can when you had your free time, but it looks like she doesn’t want to be found.

Then the amount of longing you have to see your mate only surfaced further as you asked around the people, but they would only give vague answers.

“I’m pretty sure she was just right there”

“I saw her walking not to long ago over there”

“She just passed by, haven’t you seen?”

Then a desolate feeling began to settle in your veins. Where could she be? Was she ignoring you?

With those questions planted in your head, you slowly lessened the time you’ve spent hanging out with the Sully’s and had spent more time on finding Tsireya, it was unusual.

Usually, she’d just be right by your side, clinging onto your arm and rambling on about your day.

Now you were just walking alone, hoping to be given a sign on where your significant other could be.

Of course, the Sully’s had also began to get curious as to why you were going around looking like a lost viperwolf pup, but they had understood once you had explained why.

“Ooh, that sucks.” Lo’ak said, earning him a smack on the arm from Kiri. Neteyam shakes his head at Lo’ak’s comment.

“We’re sorry, (Y/N), I hope you can make it up with Tsireya.” Kiri said, offering a sympathetic smile.

��If you need some backup, we’re glad to help.” Neteyam said.

“Don’t worry guys, I can handle this.” You smiled at them.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you had spotted a similar figure of a certain Metkayina round the corner, holding a basket.

Wasting no time, your walk had turn into a jog in order to catch up to the figure.

“Reya!” You called out, you watch as the Metkayina pause in their steps, spotting their ears flicking to the sound of your voice, before they walked again, this time turning into a speed walk.

You huff, relieved at the same time not so as she ignored you.

“Tsireya, hey, wait up!” You then caught up to her, placing your hand on her shoulder to halt her movements.

You waited for her to turn around, and she did.

What you expected was for her to greet you with an amicable expression, however, it was the complete opposite.

Her face had been scrunched, a frown much evident on her mouth as her eyebrows were almost stuck together as she looked at you with a hint of sadness and angry frustration.

You doubled back, having unseen this expression on her face for a while. You gave a light squeeze on her shoulder.

“Reya… what’s wrong? Why are you upset? Did someone hurt you?”

Tsireya could almost feel an exasperated laugh leave from her lips, but she had prevented it.

She shrugged off your touch even if she didn’t want to.

“You’ve… I’ve been trying to find you for days… even weeks now, Reya, what’s wrong?”

“Really? Now you come to me when you have been doing the exact same thing, (Y/N). I can’t believe you, why don’t you go back to the Sully’s.” Tsireya snapped. As much as she’d like to stay and finally talk things through, she found herself walking away, with tears building up in her eyes that she was quick to wipe with her free hand.

She hadn’t expected her plan to backfire on her emotions.

You felt a sting in your heart once you’ve realized what you’ve done.

You completely blasted her off without thinking, ignoring her just to spend time with your friends.

Fuck.

Frowning, your ears picked up a sob coming from her retreating form, making the feeling of guilt hook into your heart even deeper.

By the time you’ve realized what you were doing, you were grabbing her hand and making her face you.

“I’m sorry, Tsireya. I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner- Please, let me make it up to you, okay?”

You spoke, the basket being discarded on the floor as you held both her hands now.

Tsireya was relieved you had acknowledged your mistake and promised to do better, that was enough, but she was still observant.

“You promise? I don’t want you leaving me hanging again… you have to know that hurts.”

You squeezed her hands, nodding, understanding that you have caused her pain and she was just letting you feel the same thing she did. You cannot blame her.

“I promise, Reya, all right? I won’t ditch you again, promise. I’m sorry for hurting you.” You spoke softly.

The edges of Tsireya’s mouth turned upwards into a small smile, making your heart warm at the sight as she slowly nods. “I trust you.”

“Come here.” You said, raising your hand to cup her cheek, pulling her close and nuzzling your nose against hers and leaving a peck on her lips. She then suddenly turns a shade darker, flustered. Her frustration obliterated by your simple affection.

Seeing Tsireya with an even wider smile on her face makes you mirror her expression, then your eyes had caught on the thrown basket on the ground.

“Oh shit, sorry.” You spoke, bending down to grab the basket sheepishly.

Tsireya eyed you while you held the basket, and she already knew how you were going to pay her back.

Her genuine smile turned into a teasing one as she tilts her head. “I guess I’ve found my helper for today…”

You looked up at her, a dumbfounded smile on your face as you let out a small ‘huh?’

Tsireya makes a quick glance to you and the basket in hand, leading you to connect the dots.

You laugh, holding the basket high and standing straight, causing Tsireya to laugh that sounded heavenly in your ears, perking up.

“In that case; where to, ma’am?”

[dearjjunie]

always (kang taehyun x gn!reader)

wc: 901

genre: angst, fluff, right person wrong time au

warnings: hint towards sex in the beginning (literally the tiniest hint), a lot of late night/early morning emotions put into this :,)

a/n: this is my first time in years writing a fic so i apologize in advance ! but i will be working hard to improve my writing in hopes to make you guys happy ! (even tho this may be angsty oops.) pls remember to like and reblog if you enjoy <3 mwah

he looks down at you laying against his chest, you look so peaceful he couldn’t even think about waking you up right now. moving your hair from covering your face as he kisses the top of your head “you deserve more than this” he whispers softly into the night as you shuffle and pull him closer, if he had it his way he would stay in this place forever. holding you close, saying sweet nothings knowing you won’t hear him or remember, but keeping hope that maybe his words will become a part of your dreams, that maybe it’ll be different next time. slipping away as quietly as he can to make sure you’re asleep, looking back one last time before he closes the door.

it always ended like this, with you waking up alone in a bed with memories of him still there. the slight dip and creases in the sheets that he left behind, the faint smell of his cologne still in the air, the tooth brush he left behind knowing that even after the cycle of push and pull continues, he’ll always be back.

it would start with a text, claiming it would be different, he changed, telling you he wanted you truly and only you. only to be left with nothing but the remains of his presence that he left behind, no matter how hard you try to stay away you come running back just as fast as he does. but you weren’t innocent at all, it was equal fault if not the universe itself for making soulmates meet at the wrong time.

maybe one day you can both get it right.

that’s the day you decided to make it work.

a few months later you’re laying in bed with your mind racing, endless thoughts of him, your future, anything and everything going around your head, things have been so good, the only thing you need is him. you groan as you fail to doze off again, not finding a comfortable sleeping position anywhere. ‘fuck it’ you say as you reach for your phone on the bedside table, praying to the universe this time will be different.

yn

why is sleep so uncomfortable

delivered 4:38 am

taehyun

why are u awake . it’s 4 am

delivered 4:40 am

yn

i could ask u the same lmao

delivered 4:41 am

taehyun?

delivered 4:42 am

do you wanna meet at our spot?

delivered 4:44 am

i cant stop thinking about you

delivered 4:44 am

taehyun

i’ll be there in a bit just wait for me at the tree

delivered 4:53 am

slipping on some comfy warm clothes and shoes, you start your way towards the tree that has become your designated meeting spot to get away from the world.

after a short walk you arrive, sitting on the ground with your back against the tree and pulling your knees closer to your body, you sigh and take in the view around you, checking your phone for the time that stares back at you. 5:12. less than half an hour before blue hour, the magical hour as everyone calls it. you wish with everything in you that was true, you needed something to work out right.

hearing footsteps and raising your head up, noticing the blue-haired male also in comfy clothes standing a few feet away from you, he walks over and grabs your hand to pull you up, with no words spoken you both start walking up the hill to your spot.

once you got to the top you sit on the hill with him following your actions, your eyes gazing over the city below. all those people with such different lives, everyone being different but always the same.

you feel his eyes on you, looking towards him as you tear up “i’m tired of this game, i want you. only you.” looking into those brown eyes full of stars as you admit what you’ve been holding in for so long.

he turns his body towards you and motions you to do the same, grabbing your face with both hands as he wipes your tears with his thumb. “it’s always been you, only you.” you let out a sob as you cling onto him, wondering how things got so complicated so quick, why it took so long for the emotions overwhelming you to break free.

he pets your hair as you pull away, looking deep into his eyes for any signs of hesitation, any sign that this was like the other times, only to find nothing but love and adoration. “i’m sorry i took so long, but i know what i want. you.” he whispers to you with sincerity.

you look over to the city again, seeing the blue hue over the scene in front of you, looking down at your phone as you get a notification, with him curiously doing the same as the time turns right in front of you. 5:53. you look back up at each other “i need us to be real this time” is all you’re able to get out before he’s softly pressing his lips against yours, this kiss is different from past ones, used to the rough lust-filled kisses. breaking away from the gentle kiss, you look into his eyes and smile for the first time that day “then let’s be real” he smiles and leans in for another kiss. today was the day you were both determined to stay.

[madiisixx]

can you do 5 with eddiieeee!! :D angstyyy

Why do you hate me?

Requested by: Anonymous :)

Prompt: "Why do you hate me?"

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

WARNINGS: very Angsty and lots of emotions :(

A/N: this one is kinda crappy and rushed so let me know if I made any mistakes

Every passing minute it seemed like your heart and head were telling you two different things

You loved Eddie but deep down you knew you couldn't have him because he hated you

the reason why exactly? He never told nor did you think he ever would

for someone who got called a freak constantly and relates to people who get bullied he sure didn't follow his own rules

He made your life a living hell

All you wanted was to be his friend and maybe get a little bit closer to him

but he wouldn't let you

you worked up the courage to go to his locker during passing periods to try and talk to him but once he saw you coming he rolled his eyes and walked away with his friends from hellfire

You stopped in your tracks and watched him with a frown that day, wondering again why he hated you

Another instance was when you were walking to your lunch table in the cafeteria for lunch when all of a sudden your food had been dumped all over you and you fell right in front of everyone

Looking up to see who did this to you, you locked eyes with his cold ones who had just smirked and whispered out an "oops didn't see you there" as the whole school laughed at you like you were a laughing stock

the final instance was where you were now, You had caught up to Eddie and asked him to go to prom with you no matter how rude he'd been to you

You were expecting a rejection yes, and you got that but you weren't expecting the words that came out of his mouth when you finally asked him

"leave me alone and stop trying, I would never go to prom with a bitch like you"

You looked up at him teary eyed as he turned his back and walked away

the final thing you thought to yourself before you turned around and went back home.

'Why do you hate me?'

[sunshinediaz]

20 questions for fic writers

i was tagged by @callmenewbie, @hippolotamus, @watchyourbuck, @thewolvesof1998, @jesuisici33, @wikiangela, and @exhuastedpigeon 🫶🏼

i'm gonna put it under a cut because phew it got kinda long

how many works do you have on ao3?

31

what's your total ao3 word count?

uh, 301,903 which... goddamn look at me go

what fandoms do you write for?

i've written for stucky, geraskier, yenskier, steddie, and buddie, but it's only buddie right now. those 2 losers are really rotting in my whole brain and i'm loving every second of it 🤭

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(i cheated and used only buddie okay) the side effects of eating too many clementines at 759 the dinosaurs smelled magnolias at 722 this is why you shouldn't piss in the ocean at 668 you'll feel the rush of it all at 511 all things bright and beautiful at 453

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i absolutely respond to comments! it might take me a while because i'm not articulate enough to convey how much i adore everybody, but i love talking with people that enjoy the silly goofy stuff i write!

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

burned on the pyre, a steddie timeloop fic. the ending isn't exactly angsty, but it isn't as joyous as all my others because it was important to me to keep it as realistic as i could + it reflects my mental state so, uh, oops

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

mm, i think you can argue all my fics have happy endings but if you go down in the woods today has the FUNNIEST ending and that's important

do you get hate on fics?

yeah lmao

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes i do! and, um, the explicit kind? i don't know how to answer this because my porn varies for each fic but they fuck nasty regardless!

do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

no. that's not for me.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

absolutely i have <3

have you ever had a fic translated?

i have not!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope. i tried once when i was younger but it didn't work out because i'm a dickhead and found that i was not only writing my parts but fixing theirs as well.

what's your all time favorite ship?

i've had a lot of ships over the year and i'm never going to forget any of them, ever, but buddie gives me so much joy and good times and i think... yeah they're probably my favorite ship

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

none of them honestly? i'm going to finish all of them.

what are your writing strengths?

uh, dialogue. maybe.

what are your writing weaknesses?

angst, emotions, porn, things that make sense, action, romantic relationships, ANGST.

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

god, so i'm pretentious and while i know some spanish i'm definitely not fluent but i refuse to use google translate so a friend of mine helps me with translating as straight across as we can—so like, long story short, it's a yes from me

first fandom you wrote for?

maximum ride on ff dot net 💀 why was i 12 years old learning how to navigate that fuckin site my god

favorite fic you've written?

but i've got my teeth in you, a bad things happen fic where buck gets a tooth knocked out during the lafd annual baseball game and somehow proposes to eddie, who of course says yes. it's just so FUN?

i'm no pressure tagging @honestlydarkprincess, @shitouttabuck, @giddyupbuck, @callaplums, @daffi-990, @try-set-me-on-fire, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @nmcggg, and honestly anybody else who wants to be a lil chatty mwah

[sadienita]

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Bang Chan & Reader (feat. Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin)

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Angst, Hurt / Comfort

Contents: mutual pining, nightmares & sleep paralysis, Swearing, Changbin swings the reader around

Notes: I really did start this as a comfort fic and somewhere along the line it got really angsty oops

A wide smile tugged at Chan’s lips as he threw open the door for you. You couldn’t help but match it, feeling relief at seeing him in front of you after such a long time, and such a tiring few weeks. You’d barely managed any sleep recently, too plagued by nightmares waking you every few hours. Sleeping in a new location for the weekend likely wouldn’t help but Chan liked to stay up late so maybe, just maybe, you’d stay up with him until you were so tired you simply just slept through the night for once.

Chan wrapped you in a tight hug, squeezing you against him. “I’ve missed you.” He mumbled.

“Missed you too, you dork,” you chuckled. “You’re too busy.”

“Well if you lived a little closer,” he countered.

You pulled back to meet his eye. “Touché.”

Chan chuckled at you, lingering just a moment longer with his arms around you before letting go and swooping down to grab your bag. You rolled your eyes as he ushered you into the apartment with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

“I can carry my own bags, Christopher.”  You snorted.

“And what sort of gentleman would let you carry your own bags?” He questioned.

“Who the fuck told you you were a gentleman?” Came a familiar voice with a laugh. You grinned as you turned towards the kitchen to find Hyunjin leaning against the island. You made your way to him quickly, wrapping him in a hug before he could protest.

“If it isn’t my favourite whore,” you cooed, pulling back just in time to catch his eyes rolling. 

“Still the same old bitch,” he replied before scrunching his nose. “I- I guess I- I kinda mis-”

“God no don’t say that,” you said quickly. 

“Thank fuck,” He sighed. “If I show you too much emotion I’m legally obligated to combust.” He moved towards the fridge while Chan came into the room, having dropped off your bags in the living room.

“Surprised you’re still standing,” you chuckled, feeling Chan come up behind you and wrap an arm around you in a way he knew he wasn’t supposed to. In a way you weren’t supposed to like. “You used to be so mushy.”

Hyunjin made a disgusted face. “Yeah well when I hit 18 I changed. The teen years were dark days.”

“Aww but you were so cute,” You cooed.

“You were,” Chan confirmed.

“He was a problem,” Jisung said, a smile crossing his lips as he entered the kitchen. He was quick to hug you, squeezing you tight.

“You were the problem,” Hyunjin muttered, placing a drink on the island for you. 

Jisung fully ignored him. “How're you?”

“Same old same old,” you hummed. “Just further away.”

Jisung pulled back. “I know your boss sucked but I still wish you’d stayed here.”

You pinched his cheek affectionately, watching Jisung pull back in disgust and chuckling. “I’m not that far.”

“You’re pretty far,” Hyunjin said.

“You’re too far,” Chan confirmed, pulling you away from Jisung just to coax another hug from you. You accepted it, letting him snuggle into you just a little before hearing footsteps pounding down the hallway. Chan let go of you and you turned just in time to see Changbin barreling at you into the kitchen. You screamed as he wrapped you up in his arms, using his momentum to spin you around in a tight hug. You gripped onto him for dear life, even once he slowed and set you down properly.

You kept a death grip on his shoulder as you tried to blink away the dizziness while the room still moved. “Good to see you, Binnie,” you mumbled.

“Back at ya,” He chuckled, making his way to the fridge like nothing of note had happened.

“Well, now that you’re thoroughly reacquainted,” Chan said, “How ‘bout I order some pizza and we get a movie started?”

-------------

The chatter had, eventually, died down. Jisung and Hyunjin spent the first half hour adding their commentary to the film, initially to everyone’s delight but eventually building annoyance and getting pillows and blankets thrown at them until they relented and watched quietly for the rest of the film. You were squeezed between Chan and Jisung on the couch that was clearly meant for two people but you hardly minded, their warmth more comforting than anything. 

When the second movie started Hyunjin took off to his room, thoroughly tired of interaction and ready to spend the remainder of his evening drawing. Still, the rest of you refilled on snacks and settled in for the movie. And though it was late by the end and Changbin decided to turn in, Jisung and Chan stayed. 

You knew Chan would stay up as late as you wanted, possibly even later. He never was able to sleep well in all the time you’d known him. Even if you were sure he was itching to work on the inside he seemed calm, enjoying the third movie starting. You found your gaze drifting to his face, simply taking in the profile of his nose, his lips, his jaw in the low light. It was a little self-indulgent, taking in his features like this. You were sure it was being tired that made you so much less careful but you couldn’t help yourself, wanting to drink in his handsome features for just a moment longer.

His gaze shifted and you saw the smirk pulling at his lips before the eyes on you. You didn’t miss the warm, rosy hue adorning his cheeks as your eyes traveled to meet his, nor the warmth in your own chest. An all too familiar feeling. You smiled back at him which served to make him giggle.

“Whathca looking at?” He hummed. 

“Just you. You look nice.” Was your reply.

Chan just chuckled again, shoving you lightly and clearly a little flustered. “Okay, sure.” He returned his gaze to the movie as did you, only noticing then that Jisung had fallen asleep, mouth hanging open and head resting back against the couch. You giggled quietly, leaning against Chan to get his attention. He chuckled too when he saw Jisung’s face. 

You shook your head as you looked back at the screen, staying curled up against Chan. He was warm and comfortable and while you had planned to stay up a while longer your eyelids were starting to feel heavy. You supposed the traveling really had taken its toll on your body. You felt an arm snake around your waist and elected to not think too hard about it as you drifted off to sleep against his shoulder.

---------

“Hey.”

The voice was soft as someone gently shook you and slowly came to your senses. You furrowed your brows, stirring a little before opening your eyes to see the TV, now off, in front of you. The space next to you where Jisung had been was now empty and cold so he’d clearly gone to bed some time ago. You sat up with a yawn before looking at Chan.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” You admitted.

“You think?” He snorted quietly. “I already put your bags in my room so-”

“No,” You said, suddenly feeling very awake.

Chan sighed. “You do this every time you stay over. Just let-”

“No.” You restated. “I’m not kicking you out of your own room, you dingus. I’m gonna go get my stuff while you get ready for bed.”

“You had to travel to get here and it was probably tiring,” he protested.

“I’ve made up my mind,” You said simply as you made your way down the hall. Chan grabbed your wrist before you went into his room, a last ditch effort to convince you. But you had this discussion every single time you visited and it always ended the same.

Nevertheless, he called your name softly, trying not to wake his roommates now. You looked him in the eye, seeing his sincerity but also his exhaustion. You were right to think he hadn’t been sleeping well.

“Please, please take my room. I’ll sleep on the couch, you know I don’t care. Someone could break in-”

“Christopher.” You said his name sternly and he fell silent. “You’ve never been broken in on, not once. There has never been any threat in your living room. I will be perfectly fine-”

“Sleep with me then.” He said quickly, his ears started to burn red as he fully processed his own words. You ignored the skipping in your heart as you frowned at him.

“Your bed is too small.” You pointed out. “One of us will end up on the floor.”

Chan’s shoulders finally slumped and he let go of your wrist. You sighed, stepping closer to him and wrapping him in a hug.

“You worry too much,” You hummed.

“Yeah,” He gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I just worry.”

You pulled back to look at him. “You need the rest more than I do I’d guess.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Is it that obvious that I haven’t been sleeping?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Just, try and get some rest, okay?”

Chan finally relented, dropping his head with a sigh. You took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly before heading into his room and grabbing your bags. You took them back to the living room and washed up while Chan grabbed a pillow and blanket for you. Even as you came back to settle in he gave you a pout and sad eyes. You just rolled your own as you plopped down on the couch.

“Go to bed, Chris.”

“Are you sur-”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “Go to bed.”

He gave you a half smile before finally shuffling back to his room.

You sighed to yourself as you snuggled under the blankets. He was always like that with you, protective and kind to a fault. Sometimes he cared a little too much. OR maybe he just cared more than he should. But you weren’t about to jeopardize his sleep for your own comfort. Their couch wasn’t even uncomfortable, he just hated the idea of you being out here alone. Even if some small part of yourself would rather be snuggled up in his bed you knew it wasn’t worth it.

---------

You blinked your eyes open, looking up at the ceiling above you. The room was dark, but not so much so that you couldn’t see anything. You could see the outlines and edges of the light fixture above you. Your gaze shifted along the lines of the ceiling, everything feeling a little slow as you did so. Even sitting up it felt heavy, like the air was thick with something.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked over the back of the couch and felt fear strike through you. Two small, red glowing eyes peered at you through the darkness. You gripped the couch tightly as the creature, still shrouded in black stared back at you and you felt the way time was getting slower and slower.

Despite that, when the creature moved, it moved fast. In the blink of an eye it stood at the back of the couch. You tried to move back, get up, run, anything, but you were stuck. A hand, looking like that of a person that had been long dead, skin black and decaying and hanging off of the skeletal frame started to slowly reach towards you.

Your eyes locked on the hand as you opened your mouth to scream but not a single sound came out.

Closer and closer the hand came and your stomach started to churn as you tried in vain to cry out for help, utterly stuck in place as the creature reached closer and closer to your neck. You met its glowing eyes again only to feel dizzy. Each breath was getting harder, as if it was already choking you. Despite not seeing a mouth you were sure the thing was grinning somehow and it made you sick.

The second it’s cold, rotting fingers touched your throat a scream ripped itself from deep inside you.

--------

You sat up suddenly, trying to catch your breath as the last echoes of a scream reverberated through the room and down the hall. Your heart was racing, beating far too heavily in your chest as tears stung your eyes and you looked around frantically, the horrible creature was nowhere to be seen.

You let out a sigh, slumping into yourself and squeezing your eyes shut. It was just a dream, nothing more. Even so, the backs of your eyelids seemed painted with the image of those horrifying red eyes. You blinked them open, your attention drawn out of your thoughts and to the sounds of someone stumbling out of bed.

Mere seconds later a door flew open and Chan came running out of his room. He ran to the back of the couch, nearly slamming into it before reaching out and cupping your cheeks with his hands. You flinched a little at the sudden contact after such a scare. Chan seemed to relax just a little just looking at you and seeing you okay.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone try and get in here? Did you-”

“It was just a bad dream,” you sighed.

Chan stared at you seriously. “You screamed.”

“Yeah, it just kind of happened,” You mumbled. “I’m sorry about that.”

Before Chan could say anything else another door opened and Changbin wandered into the hall, rubbing his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” He yawned. 

“Yep,” you admitted, head dipping a little. Chan let his hands drop from your face, shifting a little so you could see past him to Changbin. “Just a bad dream.” As the reality of it hit you embarrassment started to creep up on you. “You can go back to bed.”

Despite your reassurance, Changbin hesitated. “You sure you’re okay?”

You met his eye briefly and nodded. “I’m sure Chan will refuse to leave me alone now anyway.”

Changbin let out a chuckle and you saw Chan give you a shy grin out of the corner of your eye as Changbin headed back to bed with a sleepy wave. You sighed heavily and reached for your phone which had been going off for the last minute while Chan made his way around the couch to sit next to you. You unlocked it to find Hyunjin and Jisung freaking out in your group chat about how you were probably dead and they were next. You rolled your eyes tiredly and shot off a message to let them know you were fine before setting your phone aside and looking at Chan. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept a wink since you sent him off to bed.

“Are you actually okay?” He asked softly, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I am,” You said tiredly. “It was just a nightmare. Don’t worry.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

You dropped your gaze. “No, it was just a one off thing.”

“Are you sure?”

You met his eyes again, giving him a tired smile and squeezing his hands. “I’m really okay. It was just a little freaky but I woke up and I’m fine.”

Chan chewed on his lip for a moment, seeming to think of something but you caught on before he could voice said thoughts.

“You can go back to bed.”

Chan said your name softly but you stopped him.

“You need to sleep and so do I, just go back to bed. Nothing happened. I’m busy and probably just having a nightmare from stress, okay?”

Chan gave you a sad smile. “You really think I’ll be able to sleep at all with you out here after that?”

“Nothing happened,” you insisted, feeling exasperated.

“Yeah but now I know what you’d sound like if something did happen. I can’t just forget it.” He gazed at you, clearly tired and a little less guarded, a little more disarmed than usual. “If I go back there I’m just going to worry for the rest of the night.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to take your bed away from you.” He opened his mouth but you beat him to the punch. “And you know it’s not big enough for both of us.”

“It was once,” he mumbled. You broke away from his gaze, feeling your face heating at the memory of being sick cuddling up with him in his bed when he insisted that you needed someone to take care of you. You were tired and in need of comfort and not going to refuse it in the moment. Even if you already felt warm, the comfort from it sent you right to sleep and it was more restfully than you’d slept in a long time.

But you also remembered how you felt when morning came. Once your fever broke and you were thinking straight again. You remembered the way you felt and the way he clearly thought that night would somehow change all of the circumstances that made you fit together about as well as two pieces from entirely different puzzles.

You remembered the argument it caused between the two of you over the meaning of it all. The way it strained your friendship so much you thought you might just lose it. And there was far less that needed to fall into place so nicely with friends.

Crossing that boundary again wasn’t something you wanted to do.

“I know,” you said. “I just… isn’t this easier?”

Chan met you with a sad look on his face, almost heartbroken. “You think?”

“Don’t you?”

Before he could say anything else a rather loud cawing outside made you nearly jump out of your skin. Your eyes snapped to the window, half expecting to see the red eyes peering back at you. But there was nothing there, just a bird somewhere out in the darkness calling out into nothingness. 

Chan’s hand left yours, moving to rub your back again before giving you an expectant look.

“I’m f-”

“You can’t even handle a damn bird,” he chuckled.

“My nerves are a little fried,” you defended.

He looked at you, his stare calculated before he got up from the couch. For a moment you breathed a sigh of relief. He was as stubborn as you were and it was hard to convince him you were alright. If only he looked after himself with the same energy he tried to look after you.

A few moments later you groaned as he returned with a pillow and blanket.

“Christopher, no,” you said sternly as he settled into the armchair. “You can’t sleep there.”

“Well I’m not gonna get any sleep in my room so what does it matter?” He asked matter-of-factly.

“It’s so uncomfortable,” You whined. You knew, you’d tried to sleep there before when the couch broke and you visited with no other place to sleep. It was one of the worst sleeps of your life.

Chan shrugged. “Then at least I’ll be here and awake if you have another nightmare.”

“I told you I don’t usually do that.”

“Scream yourself awake or have nightmares?”

You bit back your comment. He was right. The stress recently had been getting to you and you’d been having terrible dreams. When you woke up it was fine but it did mean you didn’t sleep very soundly. Taking in his gaze you knew he’d made up his mind on this and you weighed your options. Despite everything, his bed was infinitely more comfy for both of you.

“Fine, you win,” you grumbled, standing from the couch. “We can go to your room.”

Chan positively beamed at you and it made you soften just a little, stomach flipping once again at the sweet expression. At the very least he was content and maybe you’d both get some good rest this way.

“I’ll clean up quickly out here and then I’ll be back, okay?”

You gave him a tired smile and shuffled back to his bedroom. You paid him not too much mind while he tidied up the blankets and grabbed the things you’d need. You simply took a pillow with you and collapsed onto his bed. There was definitely not enough space for both of you unless you cuddled close but in your tired state you just resigned yourself to the fact that it would feel nice even if it left everything a mess come morning, imagining things that couldn’t work out.

Though it would have been better to wait for him so you could figure out how to share the space, your exhaustion got the better of you as you curled into the soft, comfy bed, still warm from Chan’s body heat and with his comforting scent on the pillows. He was still cleaning up and no doubt grabbing water and maybe even a snack since he was awake and your tired body gave into the welcoming darkness of sleep mere moments after falling into bed.

---------

Your eyes blinked open in the darkness of Chan’s room, initially confused at the location. But it only lasted seconds before fear struck through your heart. The red eyes of a shadowy figure peered at you again from across the room. You sucked in a breath, too shallow, to try and make a sound but your mouth wouldn’t open. Your eyes wouldn’t close against the horrible creature either and as it shifted closer you felt tears well up in your throat.

What do you want with me? You wanted to ask. What did I do? Why me?

You couldn’t manage a single word of it, just pure and utter fear, breaths coming more shallow as the thing came a little closer and you were sure another was behind you, feeling a presence there too. You fought with your body to move, to speak, to do anything but you were frozen in place as hands landed on you from behind.

--------

“Hey, hey!” Chan’s voice came in panicked whispers. “Wake up! Please, wake up!”

You managed to force your eyes open, sucking in a deep breath and gasping for the air it felt like you’d been starved of. Chan pushed you gently until you were laying on your back, looking up at his worried expression. “Wh-What happened? You’re cryin-”

You were quick to throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as you let out shaky breaths, relieved that it was just your brain playing tricks on you. The torment tonight had been relentless but you were thankful that it was, nevertheless, not real. You nuzzled your face against his shirt, subtly trying to wipe away the tears before he looked at you again.

Chan sat on the bed and gingerly brought you to sit in his lap, holding you close and rubbing your back. He murmured reassurances to you as you calmed down. The image of the red eyes was burned onto the backs of your eyelids but it was somewhat dulled, more bearable when he was this close.

When you finally pulled back to look at him his expression was still laced with concern. “Was it another nightmare?”

“Sleep paralysis,” You sighed. “But both had the same spooky ghost thing.”

Chan said your name softly, holding your chin gently to keep you from looking away from him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m…” You paused, trying to find the words. “I’m tired and stressed. I’ve been too busy to rest. But I am okay. You know how it goes, sometimes your brain throws you nightmares when you’re stressed out.”

He pouted. “I hate it though.”

“Getting nightmares?”

“No, you getting them.”

You smiled at him. “Well unless you can travel inside my brain and stop them.”

He chuckled. “I know, I just wish I could do something.”

You finally pulled away from his grasp. “Let’s just sleep, I think…”

“You think…?”

“Nevermind,” You said. “Let’s just sleep.”

Chan seemed like he wanted to press you a little more but he didn’t. Instead he moved to lay down before opening his arms and welcoming you to cuddle into his chest with a wink that made you snort and hit him with a pillow before you settled onto him. He was quick to lock his arms around you and squish his cheek into the top of your head.

“Good night,” he hummed and you could feel it rumble in his chest.

“Night, Chan.”

--------

You felt warm and comfy as you slowly came to. Light was streaming through a slight gap in the curtains so you knew it was morning but as for the specific time you didn’t much care. You snuggled closer into Chan’s grasp, nuzzling your face into his neck. You didn’t want to think at all right now. After struggling to rest for so many hours, after so much stress recently, a few precious moments of rest were very welcome.

“Morning,” Chan’s voice was a little lower, a little rougher as he woke up, no doubt from sleep. You hid your face in his neck as your heart fluttered, pretending you were far more sleepy than you actually were. His arms around you got a little tighter as he nuzzled against your head.

“Did you sleep well?” He hummed.

“I did,” you mumbled. “No more nightmares at least.”

“And I slept like a log. It’s almost like we’re good for each other.”

At this comment your stomach did a series of flips and you pushed up, away from him. While your heart beat a little too hard you fixed him with a disapproving stare and stern tone. “Chris.”

He met your sternness with a decided softness of his own when he said your name in a way that made your heart melt just a little. You kept your gaze the same though as you sat up fully, him following along like you were a magnet pulling him closer no matter how you moved.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” He pouted.

“You know why.” Even first thing in the morning the man made you want to scream. He knew. He knew about the distance. He knew about the false starts and the awkward moments and the hopes of something that crumbled as soon as it was touched. He knew about always getting the wrong. He knew about the personality clashes. He knew about the explosions of emotions that had nearly shipwrecked it all. He knew about the drunken quiet whispers that shouldn’t have been said. He knew about the incompatibilities. He knew because he was there, the other half of all the conversations.

 Chan’s shoulders dropped a little. “If you’re talking about you moving away-”

“Christ, Christopher!” You groaned. “You know I had to get out of that place. You know it’s better now, even if I am farther away. And besides, you know that’s not even what I meant, it’s more than just… work.”

“You know over time things can change, right?” he said quietly.

“Do you really think things can change that much?” You questioned.

“Don’t you think it’s at least worth a shot?”

You stared at each other through a beat of silence. You hated the way your heart yearned to give him the answer he wanted, the answer you wanted, even if you knew it was a bad idea.

“I think wasting our time on a lost cause is stupid,” you muttered bitterly, getting up from the bed.

“How could you think it’s a lost cause?” You couldn’t look at him, not when he sounded so heartbroken. Not when you knew you’d be able to see it on his face. 

“I think the parts that don’t work, that don’t make any sense between us are bigger than whatever we have.”

“Whatever we have?” He sounded almost as if he didn’t believe you could say such words. Maybe he really couldn’t. “Look at me.”

You kept your gaze trained on the floor.

“Look at me.” Softer this time. “Please.”

You relented, meeting his eyes again and feeling the crushing weight of the quiet room. 

“Tell me, honestly, that you don’t feel this too. Tell me you don’t love me like I love you.”

You felt so much pain in your chest as dry lips parted, trying to find words. But you couldn’t say no. You couldn’t lie to him. Not like that.

“Do you really think love is enough?”

Chan just stared at you in disbelief, as if it made no sense to him. He took in a breath but whatever he had come up with was soon cut off by Hyunjin’s voice in the hallway.

“Breakfast’s ready!”

Another silence as Chan closed his mouth.

“Come on,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze once more. “Breakfast’s ready.” 

Before he could manage a single word you left the room, putting on the most normal front you could. Breakfast was ready after all.

[cynic-view-ahead]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @aleheartilly for this meme thing (thank you!!) and I'm gonna try to do it even though I have a grand total of technically two (2) fics lmao!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Technically 2 but since Lion's Oath is a series/chronicle... 8

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

72,992

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Final Fantasy VIII

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1- Lion's Oath 1: Space (32) (Ugh lmao it's so old)

2- Lion's Oath 6: Lost (21)

3- Lion's Oath 3: Wings (19)

4- Lion's Oath 2: Knight (15)

5- Lion's Oath 7: Fate (12)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! Someone took the time to read and express how my writing has made them feel; I'll definitely take the time to express gratitude to them and self-indulge a bit by geeking out about my work! <3

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think Lion's Oath 1: Space wins angstiest ending? Lion's Oath 6: Lost is angsty but ends on a hopeful note, and Lion's Oath 5: Messenger is more of a cliffhanger so... I like angst but not in my endings normally haha

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely Knight! I still really like how the ending of that chapter turned out!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Never did so far. I think I'd find it a bit funny though... and maybe flattering? Like wow my writing has instilled enough rage in someone that they had to tell me! I dunno, it'd be amusing.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I did in the past, and plan to when Lion's Oath progresses a bit more! I'm not sure what 'kinds' there are but for Squinoa specifically it's going to start very slow and simple, with a focus on enthusiastic consent and (of course) emotions! I do have ideas that are a bit kinkier but there's quite a ways to go before those.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't, though I've thought about writing some KH Strifehart stuff (does that even count as a crossover? lmao)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, that'd be so weird and funny though, I mean it's not like I'm making money off of this so what's the point of stealing it lmao

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I guess I could translate my own fics in French? Haha

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't! How does that even work I wonder?

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Love me some Squall/Rinoa (surprising I know), close second is Zelda/Link! <3

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Probably Lion's Oath LOL in the sense that I don't think I'll ever look at it and go ''this is it, this is over and done!'' I guess that's the cool thing about it being a series

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm good with characterizations?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think my vocabulary could definitely be more extensive. I often find myself struggling to convey the exact meanings I want for dialogues/descriptions/atmosphere etc and using the same words a lot oops

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it fits with the context it's good, I'd stick to French though 'cause it's what I know along with English. Wouldn't risk potentially butchering a language I don't personally know haha

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time! Back in like... 2004/05? Oof haha it was BAD.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I think it's Lion's Oath 3: Wings. It's got a lot of fluff and a little bit of spiciness and I remember having a lot of fun writing it! Plus writing Badass Sorceress Rinoa is always a treat.

[shyphonics]

Salad Days - Chapter 1: I Against I Against I Against I

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Baby-Punk AU ✨ (part 2 here!)

No use of y/n, no physical description of reader, fem pronouns

Put yourself in the shoes of a snarky, hyper-competent punk bartender with a tragic backstory (but it's totally not a big deal! Who needs therapy?? lol lmao 🤪)

Some loser from the ‘burbs comes into your bar, and against your better judgement, you decide to show him the ropes of the scene. Even though his band name totally sucks.

Rodrick is kind of a sad, insecure boy in this. He's on bad terms with everyone back home, and absolutely refuses to fully acknowledge it. He refuses to acknowledge any of his emotions. And his quickly growing crush on his new bartender friend…

Also it's 2005 because I say so. Flip phones and email babey B)

Lightly angsty. Lightly based on my own experiences bullshitting my way into the bar scene. Lightly based on my hyperfixation on punk history lol.

Songs for this chapter:

(I haven't written anything in YEARS so I'm sorry if this is bad lol. part 2 and 3 are almost finished oops so let me know if you like it)

/////

In a quest for the test to fulfill an achievement

Everybody's only going to pursue themselves

When the fact of the matter is they just don't care

To extend a helping hand to anyone else

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The kid turns around. He looks like a wet rat. His facial expression says he knows he’s in trouble. He's tall and kinda goofy-looking. His dark hair is messy, and his eyes are overlined in black.

“Uh, hi. I'm Rodrick. I'm in a band, I uh, I wanna play a show?” He squeaks out, waving a barely legible flier in the air.

“Have you been in touch with Mike?”

“Mike?”

“You gotta get in touch with Mike.” you cross your arms and lean against the doorframe, one foot kicked over the other.

He stares at you, guilty and confused. Your expression is throwing him off. Raised eyebrow, pursed lips. It’s the face of a disappointed mom, but you’re… young. And pretty?

“Do you want the email, or what?”

You break his thoughts.

“Yes! Email. Mike.”

You retreat to the office, rifling through papers until you retrieve a business card.

“Mike Morello. By the way, you might wanna change that band name.”

He looks at his flier, “Why? What's wrong with it?”

You look at him for a while, raising your eyebrows higher and higher, as high as you can, until he’s frustrated. His lanky figure is bouncing all over the hallway. Like a dog who needs to go outside. A big, dumb dog. You look at him in true disbelief. You can’t believe he doesn’t know. He has to know.

“What? What?! Stop looking at me like that!” His eyes are wide and frantic, begging you to say something.

“It sucks!” you laugh.

“It does not suck!”

“Dude, it totally sucks. It's gross. What kind of music do you even play?”

“Fucking rock n roll, baby!” He’s pissed off. It’s hilarious.

“Uh huh. And what are your influences?”

“Influences?”

“Influences. Motives. Backstory.” You clutch your hand into a self-important fist.

“What's with all the questions?” He nearly screeches.

“I'm preparing you for Mike. He's a cynical old fart who's mentally still in late 70s San Francisco. You need to impress him, get a good story going. He's not gonna put some suburban garage band up there.”

He frowns. That's exactly what they are…

“I-” he starts.

“That's exactly what you are, yeah. I know.” You smile, “I can smell suburbs, dude. You'll figure it out.”

“Can I have your email? Or y'know, your phone number or something?” he looks nervous, “Just for, like, advice.”

You cock an eyebrow, think for a minute, then grab a sticky note. It’s surprising after how riled up you got him, but boys are weird.

“Number’s too risky. What if you're a weirdo or something? Here’s my email.” you finish scribbling down the address and extend your hand.

“Cool. I’ll use it.” He nods, taking it from you very delicately. Weirdly careful not to touch your hand. Again, boys are weird.

“…cool. See you around. Maybe. Diaper boy.” you smirk.

Before he can retort, you shut yourself in the office. He stands there for a while, trying to think of something to say back, but nothing comes to him.

~

I am a patient boy

I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait

My time’s water down a drain

Everybody's moving

Everybody's moving

Everybody's moving, moving, moving, moving

“I think she’s saying we need, like, punk cred. It’s a punk bar, after all.” Rodrick leans back on their crappy couch. It was free on the side of the road when they were moving in.

“Pshh, we are so punk!” Chris chimes in. “Ward has a shaved head!”

He points at Ward's head. Ward crosses his arms and nods approvingly.

“She knew I was from the suburbs just by looking at me.” He puts his head in his hands.

“So what are you gonna say to the guy?” Ben asks.

“I dunno, I kinda wanna email the girl first and ask for advice.” Rodrick mumbles.

“Oh, sure. Advice.” Ben rolls his eyes.

“Yes! Just advice!”

“Is she hot?” Ward giggles.

Silence falls upon the room.

“Whatever! What are our influences? Punk influences!”

“Dude, you're, like, totally wearing a Dead Kennedys shirt!” Chris pipes up.

“Okay, yeah, I like Dead Kennedys.” Rodricks sighs, relieved. He knows ‘Police Truck’. Who doesn’t? It was in Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater for fuck’s sake!

“Okay! Uhh, shit, what else did she say… motive!”

“Dude, what?” Ben's eyes go wide, “Like murder?”

“No, dumbass, like why did we start the band?” Ward tosses a crushed beer can at him.

“To get girls? To, uhhh…” Chris trails off.

“To rock and roll! To tell everyone to fuck off and prove them all wrong!” Rodrick yells.

The rest of the guys give a resounding yeah! and raise their beers.

Rodrick opens his laptop, making a big show of stretching his hands. He’s gonna write a masterpiece. Löded Diper is gonna take over this town.

He starts typing furiously, ignoring all the little red squiggles appearing among his words. It doesn't take him long to slow down, though, and he gives up and passes the laptop to Ben. Rodrick’s mind is cloudy. He’s thinking about that girl at the bar. You’d been so… mean. But not? Did you like him? He doesn’t get it.

Heather Hills had made it incredibly clear she did not like him. In fact, she hates him.

He remembers the last day of senior year. He’d handed her a Löded Diper CD, masterfully engineered by the man himself in GarageBand, and asked her to sign his yearbook.

Are you being serious right now? You still owe me for my ice sculpture, pleb!

Oh, uh, right, he’d replied, how much is that again?

Four. Thousand. Dollars. And you’ll never make that much in your life, freak.

He grimaces as the memory infects his brain. Four thousand seemed like a lot for just some ice. He remembers fantasizing, though, about getting signed and nailing down a solid deal. Reimbursing Heather for the sculpture and so much more. Maybe she’d marry him. Hot rockstar with a hot, blonde trophy wife. That had been the dream. Until…

Well. Don’t focus on the past. The past sucks. The future is now.

“Rodrick!” Ben’s hand shakes his shoulder.

“Sorry. Um. I don’t know. I think it’s pretty good!”

Between the bones he had put down, and some additions from the guys, they have what they think is a pretty kickass email.

Rodrick’s mind is still elsewhere, though. The thoughts of Heather had kind of messed with him, and now he’s just thinking about home. He hadn't left on great terms. He really wishes everything could be better. The only support system he has is the band, but they don't talk about that kind of stuff. Not more than once in a blue moon.

He’s where he wants to be and everything. He's living his dream. But something still feels wrong. He feels a little empty.

Your emotions make you a monster

Your emotions make you a monster

Your emotions make you a monster

Your emotions make you a monster