#[ voice - Adrianna ]

[of-elitiism]

"...My eyes are up here."

[littlelamy]

untitled

drew starkey x victoria’ssecret!model!reader

a/n: the fashion show last night was underwhelming to be honest. i wish they dedicated more money and time on the lingerie and wings rather than having high profile models. but i did enjoy seeing tyla, lisa, bella, jasmine, adrianna and so many others; they looked amazing!!

the backstage chaos hums around you—makeup artists rushing, models adjusting their wings, designers shouting last-minute adjustments—but all you can focus on is the gnawing anxiety building in your chest. your heart feels like it’s pounding out of your ribcage, palms damp with sweat as you fidget with the intricate straps of the lingerie you’re supposed to wear. the excitement that had carried you through rehearsals, fittings, and sleepless nights now feels like a distant memory, swallowed by a crippling sense of doubt.

“what if i trip? or my walk looks awkward?” you whisper under your breath, eyes darting toward the stage where the show is already underway. each model that struts down the runway with effortless grace only seems to magnify your insecurity.

before you can spiral further, you feel a hand—warm, steady—gently squeeze your shoulder. you turn to see drew, standing just behind you, his brow furrowed in concern but his eyes soft, deeply grounding. he doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls you aside from the noise and chaos, into a quiet corner.

“hey,” he says softly, his voice low and reassuring, cutting through the frantic energy around you. “look at me.”

you hesitate for a moment, still caught up in your head, but you eventually meet his gaze. his expression is serious, but there’s something else there too—an understanding that goes deeper than surface-level comfort.

“you’re freaking out, huh?” he asks, but it’s not condescending. there’s a knowing warmth in his tone, like he’s seen you unravel like this before, and it’s never phased him.

“i don’t know if i can do this,” you admit, barely above a whisper, your voice strained with vulnerability. “all these other girls have done this a million times, and i—”

“you’re not them,” he cuts in gently but firmly. “you’re you. that’s why you’re here. no one else brings what you bring.”

you shake your head, still not fully convinced. “but what if i mess up? what if i make a fool of myself in front of everyone?”

he steps closer, his hands coming up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing softly along your jawline, forcing you to stay anchored in the moment with him. “listen to me,” he says, his voice dropping an octave, more intense now. “you’ve worked your ass off for this. this isn’t some random opportunity that fell into your lap. they picked you because you’ve got something none of those other girls do. it’s not just about being pretty or walking in a straight line. it’s about the energy you bring, the way you make people feel when they watch you.”

you close your eyes for a second, trying to let his words seep into the cracks of your insecurity. but the doubts are still there, lingering like shadows.

“drew, what if i freeze? what if—”

“then you freeze, and you keep going,” he says, his tone steady, unyielding. “but i don’t think that’s going to happen. because you don’t give up. i’ve seen you face way bigger things than this, and you never back down. so why would you start now?”

his words hit harder than you expect, a mixture of challenge and belief that makes your heart clench. he’s not just offering hollow reassurances—he’s reminding you of your strength, of who you are when you’re not wrapped up in fear.

“and besides,” he adds, a softer note creeping back into his voice, “i’ll be out there, right in the front row. the second you step on that stage, i’ll be looking right at you, reminding you of exactly how badass you are.”

a laugh escapes you, despite yourself, the tension breaking slightly. “you always know what to say.”

he grins, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your forehead. “because i know you. better than anyone. and i know you’re about to blow everyone away.”

there’s a pause, and for a moment, the world feels smaller—just the two of you, tucked away in this corner, away from the lights and cameras and expectations. drew’s hands drop from your face, but he keeps one hand on your waist, his thumb tracing calming circles against your skin.

“you’ve got this,” he says, quieter now, almost like he’s speaking directly to your soul. “and if you start to doubt yourself, just look for me. i’ll be there, reminding you that you’re not alone in this.”

the knot in your chest loosens, just a little, and you find yourself nodding, the panic subsiding enough for you to take a steady breath.

“okay,” you say, more to yourself than him. “okay. i can do this.”

he gives you a final, lingering look—one filled with so much pride, so much trust—and then steps back, giving you the space to gather yourself.

“you better go out there and make them all wish they had your confidence,” he teases, his voice light again, but there’s an underlying current of truth to his words.

as the stage manager signals for you to get into position, you take one last look at drew, and for the first time all night, you feel steady on your feet.

because no matter what happens out there, you know you’re not walking alone.

[vicsstufff]

CHAPTER TWO — SWEET trash TALK

warnings: my girl camila gets in problems, language, fighting (?), disturbing behavior, protective p (?), shortt.

BTS masterlist

pairing: hopkins!p.bueckers x exchange student!oc

taglist: @rebecca-woso , @unadulteratedcyclepaper , @authentic-girl03 , @starlighttsv , @avvwritesstufff

authors note: seconddd chapterrr, i have been so lazy to write omg like its baddd. i also had a minor surgery on friday but im recovering now and i wont go to school for a hole week! enjoy! comment if u wanna be added to the taglist!

ONE WEEK BEFORE SCHOOL.

“how about you go and get tickets for the upcoming game? high school season starts very soon.” michel reached for his wallet and grabbed some money inside it and handed it to camila. michel loved basketball, he did it for some time and even planned on doing it in college but his plans got interrupted once he moved to washington. adrianna didn’t share the same passion as michel did, but she did enjoy it watching it and supporting teams, it remembered her the last year of high school, when he was a cheerleader for the american football team, she even showed camila some tricks! life’s had been too good to be true, she tried the so famous milkshakes ‘p’ told her about, she went camping in the near by woods and saw a girl that looked oddly similar to what ‘p’ described herself. from afar she looked very animated and cheerful, everyone had a smile drawn on their face near her and it even made camila creep a smile while she focused on her.

camila reached for the money and started to mentally count the money and after placed it on the back of her pockets, “the leftover money, you can spend it on anything you want.” michel softly spoked with a assuring smile and camila gave a small nod making her way out the house door.

the afternoon chilly air filled up camila’s nostrils quickly while closing the door behind her, her nose become a softly pink that made her fingers grip into her hoodie, almost sprinting to the closest store near a school that sold tickets.

she entered the store when she suddenly bumped into someone, she closed her eyes waiting for another impact to happen, when she heard a loud groan coming from the person she bumped with. she slowly opened her eyes to see.

a dark haired girl glared down at her light pink shirt, dripping from the chocolate milkshake that had fallen upon her because of the sudden crash, “oh.my.god..look what you have done! dumb bitch!” the taller girl shouted not before launching her—now empty— milkshake away from her, “can’t you see were you’re going!?” she barked at camila, the curly haired girl took a deep breath before speaking to defend herself, “you were right in front of the door!” camila snapped back at her. the fuming woman gave her an acknowledgment look, looking closely at her face and the clothe she wore, when her eyes stopped at her hair, her nose wrinkled, a sign of disgust. camila did made a mental note about how curly haired people were kinda extinct in this area, but it looked like this girl had never seen a curly person never in her life and she observed camila like if she was a disgusting bug that landed in her milkshake. “jesus, rose. let’s go, you can later buy a new one.” a girl behind her grabbed this called rose by her wrist and dragged her out the store.

camila felt rotten inside when rose give her hair a nasty glaze, she didn’t really define it this morning and forgot to put on her bonnet on before going to sleep, it wasn’t that terrible, but rose made it feel like if her hair had gained consciousness and insulted her in every way possible.

“looking for tickets?” a voice took her out of her state of mind, it was coming from the register. “yeah, um. sorry for the inconvenience.” camila added quickly, gathering herself into walking to the register, taking out the money from her pocket. “no worries, rose is a regular problem around here.” the guy explained, taking something behind the counter. “i recommend you to stay out of her way, even if you go to the same school.” he stated, camila’s eyes widen with the response he gave to her. “how do you know where school i’m going to?” she inquired, a stranger knew about her transfer to a new school, did he also know where was she born? “rumors fly fast. brazilian?” he added, handing her the tickets. “um, yes.” camila snatched the tickets from the strangers hands and stumbled with counting the money almost launching it towards the register.

she made her way out of the store, it was now clearly dark, the parking lot was now lonely and the kids that were near the park had gone to the safety of their homes. a wet, tangy nose sniffed her hand rapidly, she looked down surprised to see a small golden retriever, once the dog noticed they got finally someone’s attention, their tail wiggled with emotion and started letting out small barks.

“oh, hello buddy.” camila reached down to pet the small creature, the pure night brought with it a gentle breeze, but strong enough to make camila shiver under her hoodie, the puppy didn’t escape the cold air, making it also start to shiver, that camila did notice.

she knew monica needed a little company and michel has been dying to adopt a golden retriever—it reminded him of his dog back in canada— camila gently grabbed the dog, scooping it around her arms as if it was going to protect the cold dog.

she took a moment to analyze the pup under her protection, when a sharp pain appeared on the bridge of her nose, a gushy feeling making its way down her nostril, landing on the soft fur of the body she was holding dearly. the dog sniffed the gently the blood disturbing his back. “shit— uh” camila gasped under her shaky breath, looking behind her, into the store, the guy was still looking at her, almost wanting to burn holes into her clothes, this made camila shiver even more. going back into that store was not a good idea.

her phone started vibrating in her pocket, she struggled to keep the dog safe in her arms while taking her phone out, the word ‘p 💗’ decorated the screen brightly.

“yoo, i just saw rose fucking nepobaby and she was fuming!” p exclaimed happily, “i wonder who got her like that.” camila bite down her lip starting to walk towards her house. “it was—um, me.. actually..” camila mumbled, just high enough for p to hear her. “no way..” p gasped, in the background you could hear rumbling across whatever room she was destroying. “let’s leave that conversation for another time..” camila said low, embarrassed.

she was barely new to the town and she was already causing problems, adrianna warned her, yet she didn’t listen. “did you lose something?” she added quickly not wanting the conversation to die. “my uniform! i swear i left it beside my backpack.” p let out a loud sigh. “okay, um, about rose.. why call her a nepobaby?” camila questioned sniffing her nose trying to prevent anymore blood flowing from her nose. “she sucks at basketball, she is only in the team because her daddy is rich!” p exclaimed, pumping herself into laying on her bed, exhausted from looking everywhere, “are you catching a cold? wait— did rose do something to you?” p quickly insinuated hearing the constant sniff from across the line. “just some bloody nose. i’m okay.” camila explained.

her footsteps becoming quicker and unstable, her throat was attacked by the feeling of being burned, she could taste the metallic blood in her mouth, the golden retriever dedicated itself to lick the dry milkshake that stained camila’s hoodie.

“not to worry you, but you and rose are going to the same school.” p laughed before quickly shouting down the giggle threatening to come out of her lips, “that just made my night worse, maybe my whole school year too.” camila groaned putting down the puppy and started fidgeting with her keys. once she entered the house, silence adorned the warm walls, monica came sprinting towards her, amused by the sudden view of new company.

“don’t worry love, if she does something to you, she will pay, trust.” p whispered, a lovely smile creeping its way into her lips, “not only on the court.” camila attacked quickly, marching her way up her bedroom.

“if she has soo much money, why doesn’t she go to a private school?” camila whined into her pillow, “she did, but! her father changed schools because of her bad grades.” p explained, gathering herself up, determined to find her uniform.

“she is going to eat me alive..” camila whimpered

“im supposed to do that.” p let out, not thinking twice about the weight of her words.

“paige! what the fuck!” camila let out a high chuckle laying her back on the bed looking tensely at her ceiling. “want to go for milkshakes before first day of school?” p hinted, “sounds like a plan.”

[fallstaticexit]

It's a high honor to be chosen as the photo keeper in the Briar family. Willow was originally the keeper before she moved to Mt. Komorebi, so she bestowed the honor to Ezra. Who will have it next?

prev / next

Also, as requested, a side by side of Nina and Adie.

Adie: Do you like your makeup and ponytail, Grandpa?

Mel: You kidding? I LOVE it, Adie. I bet your Grandma wishes she had one.

Nina: [laughs] Trying to make me jealous?

Mel: Is it working?

Adie: Don’t worry Grandma, you don’t need any makeup. You’re the prettiest ever.

Nina: Why thank you, my sweet girl.

Mel: Heyyy...but I have a face full of makeup, what are you trying to say?

Ezra: We brought some photos for you kids to look through.

Lyric: Wow, that’s probably every single photo we’ve ever taken, daddy.

Adrianna: Just about! One of you kids are going to have to keep up with them one day.

Adie: Oh!! I wanna see!

Mel: There’s alot of good memories in those pages, Adie.

Adie: Aww! Babies!! Ohh, and a puppy!!

Lyric: Well, obviously I should inherit the photos. I’m the most organized between these two.

Adrianna: That’s very true-

Sonny: Now, hold on. I have the most kids. Shouldn’t I have ‘em, pop?

Ezra: It’s more than just keepin’ them, son. You have to keep up with them. You never take photos. You hardly be in them, either.

Mel: Well, I’ve already began my legacy with a grandchild. Clearly it should be me.

Adrianna: Mel has a point...

Sonny: Aww c’mon!

Adie: Who’s Melody?

Ezra: Son, I- I didn’t know-

Adrianna: We should have gone through them better. We are so sorry, Mel.

Mel: No, it’s- it’s fine. Guess I haven’t heard that name in a while...

Adie: [voice wobbles] Did I... do something bad?

Mel: What? No, come here sweetheart.

Mel: So...Melody was the name I was given when I was born.

Adie: That’s you, Grandpa? But that’s a girl...

Mel: That’s how I was born. But when I was really young, I knew this wasn’t who I was inside. I was lucky enough that I had family that accepted me. So, Grandpa was able to take special medicine to make his outside look and feel like his inside.

Adie: Like...[gasps] magic?

Mel: Yeah, just like magic. It made Grandpa so very happy, Adie.

Adie: I love that you get to be happy, Grandpa. I love you more than the stars.

Mel: And I love you more than the sun and moon, baby girl.

The Stoners: Salutations family.

Lyric: .........are yall high?

[n0t-evenhere]

Hello! 💧 How do you think how Ray would react if MC had unusual taste preferences. For example, they believe that food should be fresh and filling, and appearance and taste aren't as important. MC could literally throw buckwheat groats, offal, butter, and a little salt into the slow cooker and eat it with raw root vegetables. Or they could enjoy the taste of a meat broth jelly that looks like a frozen mud puddle. A funny dialogue is playing in my mind: MC: Can you believe it? For so long, I couldn't find the treat from my childhood anywhere. And then, I discovered it in a pet store! *shaking the bag of chicken feet* Ray: ...what was your childhood like? (I first became aware of your work when I was impressed by your voice acting. Your voice is very pleasant and artistic. And I like headcannons and Adrianna :) (Oh, and I wanted to apologize if the text seems incorrect. I am using a translator)

Hello my💧friend, glad you are here! No probable with the translator, I don’t worry about that.

Also, you are making me silently scream, my heart beat with more pep in its step, thank you for the complements! I loved voice acting and I’ll be doing more here pretty soon! I love Adrianna too! I’m glad you like her!

To answer your first question, honestly, Ray is a cook. There is NO WAY he could let that slide. 😂 he’d definitely be wanting to know what your food life was like growing up. You won’t be allowed in the kitchen if he’s present.l, he’ll be cooking the food.

MC: *mowing down on some jelly broth.*

*Ray gags* “what. THE HELL (YOU)?!”

MC: *mid chew* “what, want some?” *hold out spoon full of jelly broth.*

*Ray fighting not to gag with watered eye.* “No, no. I’m making dinner.”

MC: “but-“

“No, no, no more out of you. I am going to make you some food with flavor and presentation. You are BANNED from my kitchen.” *proceeds to head to kitchen.*

MC: *about to take another bite feeling dejected.*

“aht- absolutely not. You’re not eating that.” *snatches it away.*

So basically, cooking is huge for Ray. Her loves watching shows about it and doing it in his free time so, 😂 you would be banned from his kitchen when he’s present. On the bright side, you’d get free meals.

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [1/5]

How to Help

You take note of the two people on this couch with you. These innocent lives you brought into this awful world, with no thought given to the consequences. Stereotyped them down into boxes and expected a perfect fit—naive enough to think you could bring a fantasy to life.

You really want to apologize for falling into the business of playing God.

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Moon attempts to care for you as you do a little bedrotting.

The boys debate over taste in entertainment as you cry over work stress.

Much to Sun's chagrin though it all may be, you're saved from a potential night spent sleeping with your dog on the cold, hard hallway floor.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 5,174

Contains: [AU - Real World] [depiction of depression] [crying] [arguing] [an episode of vertigo] [tension] [fear]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from 'That I Would Be Good' by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1 (you are here)] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4] [Ch.5]

Lastly but certainly not least, this fic is dedicated to my friend Adrianna @roses-and-tears, whom I’ve been teasing with the existence of this fic for far too long. Thank you for your patience as I took my sweet time on this, and thank you for your patience with me in general. Your friendship means a lot to me, as does your endless support of my writing. I’m really grateful to have you in my life. Happy Birthday, Adri. 💛

That I would be good even if I did nothing.

Late afternoon sunlight slips through the slim crack between the drawn curtains covering your balcony doors. Over the past hours you’ve absently watched it grow from a bright yellow at noon to a vibrant orange now, the thin line cast across your bedsheets growing longer as the sun slips lower and lower. It serves as the only illumination in the room, all of your various lights and screens turned off in an effort to pretend that it’s an acceptable hour to be miserably curled up in bed, ignoring the world.

The occasional soft, muffled sounds of various housework being done by your—rightfully concerned, you suppose, yet surprisingly concerned, if you’re being honest—partners prevents you from ignoring the entire world, though. The subtle reminder that they’re here with you, that the house isn’t really empty, serves as a comfort that you aren’t sure you deserve. A small part of you wishes you truly were alone again, so at least you’d have a good reason to feel this way. You’d certainly feel less guilty about it too.

To their credit, they’ve handled this episode pretty well. Giving you space when you request it and proximity when you need it. Checking in on you. Keeping you clean, hydrated, and fed to the best of their ability in spite of your reluctance.

You just wish you could pull yourself out of this already.

You have work to do.

The mere thought of all that you’ve fallen behind on has you reaching up, grabbing at the corners of your pillow and tugging them down over your ears, eyes pinching closed in desperate avoidance.

Through the pillow you barely pick up on the muffled sound of soft knocking at your door.

You sigh, and manage a weak acknowledgment. “Yeah?”

Moon’s low voice rumbles through the barrier. “May I come in?”

You cough, clearing your parched throat. “...Yeah.”

The door swings open slowly and you squint, expecting the sting of the bright hallway light to hit, but it never does. You crack an eye open, releasing your hold on the pillow and tilting your head to watch him enter.

Your voice comes out more aggravated than you intend it to sound. “We got a bulb out in the hallway or something?”

Moon pauses halfway through closing the door behind him, his monitor swiveling around to face you. “Hmm?”

You clarify. “The light’s off out there.”

Understanding straightens the scrunched lines on his display that serve as his eyebrows. “Oh, no. The lights are fine, I just…” His monitor swings back around to align with his body as he gently pushes the door closed. “I’ve gathered that it hurts your eyes.”

The door quietly clicks shut and the light of his screen dims, adjusting its brightness to match that of the room. “The contrast, I mean. It being so bright out there when the bedroom is… so dark.”

A look, half-guilt and half-apology tugs at your features as you watch him approach the bed. “I’m sorry…”

His monitor clicks about 20 degrees to the right. “What for?”

His question is spoken so softly, so gently, and if you didn’t know better you’d almost believe that he really can’t think of anything you’d have to apologize to him for.

You know that couldn’t be further from the truth, though.

You’re about to acknowledge his ironic disdain for the darkness, but as you watch him reach down and experimentally lift the still-full bottle of water he refilled for you some odd hours ago, you pause. As his neutral expression curls into a small frown, you realize you should apologize for that, too. Your mind quickly offers up more and more things that you should apologize for, and within seconds your eyes are welling up with tears.

“Everything…” you say as you blink, letting them roll along your temples and—annoyingly—into one of your ears.

His monitor turns halfway toward you, but his false eyes don’t follow the motion, still locked on the bottle of water he’s thoughtfully swirling in his hand. His real eye must take in the state of you though, either that or his mics picked up on the emotion in your voice, because he passes the bottle into his left hand before turning and gesturing down toward the mattress with his right. “May I sit next to you?”

You nod, knowing he can see the motion even in the dim light, and you shift a bit from your dent in the mattress for the first time in… well, probably since Sun poked his proverbial nose in here an hour or two ago to make sure you were still breathing. Begrudgingly, you haul yourself up into a somewhat-vertical position, knowing if you don’t do it now Moon will coax you into it soon anyways. You pull your long sleeve down over your hand and use it to wipe at a few wet tear tracks.

Moon settles himself down on the mattress next to you, gently helping to pull away the sheets just enough to free you from your blanket prison as you halfheartedly reposition yourself. He rests the bottle on his left knee, monitor turning toward his right to face you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. I think… a lot of the things you apologize for don’t even need one in the first place, and as for the things that do need one… well, you’ve already given them and I— …we’ve already accepted them.”

You sigh. “I wish it were easier for me to believe you.”

His tone has an edge of resignation, or… defeat, in it when he replies. “...So do I, star.”

His simulated breath deepens a bit and in the quiet of the room you hear his cooling system kick down a notch due to his shift into physical inactivity. He passes the water bottle into his right hand, his gaze flicking down toward it and then up to you. “Can you take a sip of this for me, please?”

Now that you’ve actually tried to speak and realized how… gross your mouth feels, you take it from him without reluctance and take not one but several sips, greedily downing it as your body finally recognises its thirst.

Settling the bottle in your lap, you shake your head a bit at his offered hand. “I’ll hold onto it for now… thank you.”

You steal another glance up at his monitor and see a small, unexpected smile and kind crescent eyes. “Of course.”

As his hands fold neatly in his lap, you question him. “Is Sun mad at me?”

His expression fades back into one of concerned confusion. “Why do you think that?”

You shrug and take another sip of your water, downplaying your explanation. “…Dunno. Just feels like that sometimes.” You think for a moment. “I wouldn’t blame him for it if he was. Wouldn’t blame you either.”

Moon’s display swivels side to side on its axis, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t think he is. I mean… you know Sun. He’s cold. Not as much as he once was, but still colder than I am, at least. Distant. Quiet. But… I don’t believe that he’s mad.”

He shifts, leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out across the length of the bed, crossing them as he releases an imitation of a breath. Angling his screen back toward you, he whispers, “You wanna know what I think?”

You nod, eyes widening in curiosity.

“I think he’s just as worried about you as I am. He just doesn’t know how to show it, or what to even do with such an emotion in the first place.”

You frown, your mind automatically finding yourself at fault. “I—I did my best to train your AIs identically… I don’t—I don’t know what happened with his emotional processing—”

Moon cuts you off, redirecting your attention with a gentle hand on your arm. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to blame you. AIs…” his voice and expression both turn playful, “…we’re a dangerous thing. You never truly know how we’re gonna turn out.” He nudges your shoulder with his, and you fight back a tiny laugh.

A comfortable sort of silence falls over the dark room, and you break it with one more quiet question. “…What’s he doing right now?”

“Same thing as Zero is, actually. Sleeping.”

His features dissipate, display changing as he pulls up an image he’d apparently taken of the dog and the bot sprawled across the couch. You huff a laugh at the sight of the two of them attempting to fit together.

“He told me he was up all night, but wouldn’t elaborate on why. So I wasn’t very shocked when he crashed in the living room and asked me to bring him his cable earlier.”

You sigh and look away, half-amused and half-stressed. The image fades, Moon’s default expression taking its place. You take another swig from your bottle before leaning back and to your left, the pillow behind you sliding along the headboard until you’re pressed against Moon’s side. “I wish he wouldn’t strain his battery like that. Gonna have to bring him in for a premature replacement at this rate.”

Moon nods, humming a quiet concurrence as he raises an arm, carefully wrapping it around your shoulders, your silent request for comfort heard loud and clear.

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

Neither of you ever got an answer as to what had kept Sun up that night. But, if you’d been able to look inside his mind and see his most recent activity, you’d have found a messy assortment of browser tabs, each one’s title containing the keywords “depression” and “how to help.”

That I would be good even if I got the thumbs down.

You’re settled atop Sun’s lap on your too-small couch, back comfortingly pressed against his chest, legs stretching out across the cushions to rest on Moon’s thighs. He’s the only one out of the three of you that’s actually sitting on the couch properly, Sun instead opting for his usual lengthwise position, one arm draped along the back of the couch and the other wrapped around your waist.

One advantage of his mechanical body is that he can keep his head twisted 90 degrees to the left, facing the TV for as long as he’d like and never know the pain of a sore neck.

He seems just as invested in what’s on the TV as Moon is, and if the repetitive shifts in lighting and audio are anything to go by, you’re willing to bet they’re having another silent argument over what to watch. Too absorbed in the game on your phone to be bothered by the inconsistent ambiance, you brush aside the stray thought to remind them that they could each just watch their own show in their HUDs instead of fighting over the big screen. Their strange insistence on adhering to the “human” way of doing things is something for you to psychoanalyze another time.

You half-listen to the TV as it switches back and forth between what sounds like BBC Earth, and The (ironically named) Learning Channel, taking note of the way Sun’s body warms. His cooling system audibly kicks in, and the creator in you takes immediate notice, the attention to your phone waning as your concern over Sun’s internal temperature rises.

You pause your game, pulling in a breath as you prepare to interject on whatever silent argument is getting him so heated, but they beat you to the punch, their internal exchange suddenly becoming external.

“—Because we’ve seen it before! I already know everything I could possibly need to know about crabs!” Moon’s voice cuts through the background noise and you flinch a bit at its sudden volume.

Sun’s curled fingers splay out flat across your stomach, apparently trying to calm you and argue with Moon at the same time. “It’s not about knowledge! It’s about the implications! The metaphor!”

Moon’s monitor pivots away from the TV and over to Sun, his volume lowering a bit as his optics pass over your form curled against Sun. “What implications?”

You twist around a bit to get a glance at the screen when the narrator says something that catches your ear.

“Our spy becomes the crab's defender.”

The three of you turn and watch as a robotic imitation of a crab serves as a mechanical wall of defense between a vulnerable, soft shelled crab and a hungry stingray.

You feel Sun’s arm tighten around you.

Confused and unimpressed, Moon turns back toward his solar counterpart. “Mhm, that’s lovely, Sun, but what does it have to do with us?”

Sun’s volume drops as you feel his body mimic a sigh. “More than your stupid ‘Thousand Coupons and Counting’ show does, that’s for sure…”

You feel your phone buzz in your hand, the darkened screen lighting up once again and drawing your attention away from Moon’s rebuttal.

“Oh, come on, that’s not even the name...”

Their petty quarrel quickly becomes background noise as your focus zeroes in on the message preview in your notifications.

[ Hey, sorry to bother you at such an hour, but I finally had time to relay your most recent proposed alterations to the client’s requested design… ]

Your stomach drops as you tap to open the message and are met with a bullet point list of complaints and questions relayed from the client through one of your colleagues. You’re grateful that your team has a dedicated customer relations department because if you had to communicate with this particular client directly, you may be out of a job.

Your mood quickly grows sour and defeated as you scan over the list of criticisms, your colleague’s addition of a sympathetic [😕] at the end of their message doing little to soften the blow. You’ve spent countless hours trying to find work-arounds and alternatives to this client's unrealistic requests, the head of your team insistent that you find a way to please them lest you cost the company a “substantial potential profit.”

Clenching your jaw, you fight to keep a level head. You fight the urge to type out a hasty response, one you know would be full of childish, whining complaints about the inconvenient timing and the client’s unrealistic demands. You then fight the subsequent urge to just turn your phone off, and maybe hurl it through a window for good measure.

“Why would we need to know that? When will we ever need to afford fifteen 2-liters of Mountain Dew and ten jugs of Tide on a tight budget?! Who shops like that?!” Sun’s rapidly rising voice is enough to finally break through your swirling thoughts. The sound of your boys arguing, as ridiculous as the topic may be, only adds fuel to your emotional fire.

You fight the urge to cry, and you fail.

Clicking your phone screen off, you curl further in on yourself and press your temple against the back cushion of the couch. Moon’s voice dies down halfway through his retort, his attention quickly drawn to your sudden display of emotion. Sun’s focus falls on you at the same time, his sensors instantly picking up on the shift in your breathing and increase in your heart rate.

Moon’s body shifts, turning toward you and leaning closer as the hand he’d had resting on your knee begins to pet up and down the length of your shin in a gentle bid for your attention.

Sun aggressively whispers to Moon as the hand he’d had resting on the back of the couch comes down to hover anxiously over your head. “You idiot, look what you did!”

Moon mirrors his hushed tone. “What I did? You’re the one being unreasonable!”

You shake your head and clear your throat before cutting in. “This isn’t… about that.”

Sun’s hand comes down to awkwardly pet down your hair as you lean away from where you’d head-butted the couch cushion. “What… is this about then? What upset you?”

You turn your head, pressing your chin against your shoulder to dry the tears that had trailed down and converged there. You internally debate over how to explain yourself before giving up shortly after, opting instead to silently pull the message back up on your phone and hand the thing to Sun for him to read.

He takes in the message’s contents with typical robotic speed before handing the phone over to Moon, an unreadable expression on his display. Moon scrolls back up, reading the list of complaints and releasing a sigh as he hands the phone back to you. “They’re being unreasonable.”

You nod in agreement, releasing a sigh of your own. “Can’t tell ‘em that, though.”

Your words hang in the air as a contemplative silence falls over the room, and it’s then that you idly note that one of them must have muted the TV at some point. With their debate over taste in entertainment quickly drawn to a close, you suddenly feel guilty. “I’m sorry…”

“What for?” Sun’s voice questions over your shoulder.

“Ruining another evening…”

Moon scoffs, his retort lighthearted with a dose of rare sarcasm. “Oh, of course! How dare you interrupt our ‘important’ television debate with your silly little real-world problems.”

You glance at him, cracking a small smile, but it doesn’t last. Sighing, you lean further back into Sun, letting your head fall back until it’s resting on his shoulder. From the corner of your periphery, you see his head pull back and tilt down to get a better look at you.

“It’s not even just this one client, it’s… I mean- it is, but… fighting over what is and isn’t possible… nowadays it just reminds me of how I fought with the team over your designs. Reminds me of all the ways that I let you down. All the ways I failed you.”

You watch a frown form on Moon’s display, and you’re about to apologize for dredging up the past again, but Sun’s hands are quick to distract you. Reaching down and around you, he takes the phone from your hand, moving slowly enough to give you time to resist his attempts should you choose to. Meeting no resistance, he cradles the phone in your lap, and watching over your shoulder, opens the message once again and begins typing out a response.

[ Please remind them that while we are always eager to please, there are certain limitations to what sorts of ideas we can bring to life. Link them to our Product Design FAQ page if you haven’t already. I’ll review their comments and look into potential alterations first thing Monday morning, when our business hours resume. Thank you. ]

Moon’s curiosity got the best of him, leaning across the length of the couch to get an upside-down look at the phone screen. Rotating his faceplate 180 degrees, he hums in approval before leaning back, head slowly completing a 360 and righting itself once again.

Sun’s thumbs pull away from the keyboard and he requests your approval in a low voice. “That sound good?”

You want to ask him why he’s helping you. You want to ask Moon why he isn’t mad. You want to ask them why you’re even still employed, why you even deserve the job you’re apparently so bad at. You want to apologize for everything under the sun.

You take note of the two people on this couch with you. These innocent lives you brought into this awful world, with no thought given to the consequences. Stereotyped them down into boxes and expected a perfect fit—naive enough to think you could bring a fantasy to life.

You really want to apologize for falling into the business of playing God.

But you don’t. You re-read the message and let out a soft, resigned sigh, nodding. “Better than any response I’d be able to come up with tonight. Thank you.”

You raise a hand, tapping the send button, and then watch as Sun puts your phone on do not disturb before clicking it off once more. You point to the coffee table and he places it there, and Moon reaches for the TV remote at the same time. As you quietly readjust yourself in Sun’s hold, Moon offers you the remote with a soft question. “What would you like to watch?”

That I would be good if I got and stayed sick.

Flicking the light off, you make your way out of the bathroom and down the hall. Zero trails directly behind you, the dog insistent as always that you be accompanied on the long, arduous journey from the bedroom to the bathroom and back.

Perhaps, this time she could sense something that you couldn’t, because no more than a few steps into your short trip back, something quickly begins to feel… off. Closing your eyes and coming to a halt in the middle of the hall, you feel your stomach drop as you register the dreaded, familiar feeling of the world starting to spin around you.

Attempting a deep breath, you open your eyes and immediately regret it, disoriented and beginning to grow a bit panicked at how quickly this came over you. Muttering a soft “fuck… not again…” you reach out, placing a hand on the wall in an attempt to steady yourself. You try to at least make it back to the bedroom, but a terribly familiar hint of nausea makes itself known, and you suddenly aren’t sure if you should try for the bedroom or the bathroom.

Your body ends up deciding for you, a wave of lightheadedness teaming up with the dizzying sensation and quickly convincing you that taking a seat right where you are isn’t such a bad idea. As you slowly slide down the wall, butt thumping against the floor, you shakily call out. “Guys?”

Within five seconds, two round screens with wide digital eyes peek out from the bedroom’s open doorway. Stumbling over one another to get out of the room as soon as they see you on the floor, they question you in tandem. “What happened?!”

Clearing the short distance in a few strides to reach you, they both crouch down, one on each of your sides, Zero nervously pacing back and forth between them.

“I… I don’t know. It just hit me again out of nowhere.”

Moon’s faceplate clicks back and forth rapidly, a few degrees to the right, then a few degrees to the left. You close your eyes again, unable to look at him for long. You don’t have it in you to tell him that the motion itself is a dizzying sight. Sun seems to gather as much from his quiet observation, reaching out and roughly pinching the edge of Moon’s display, bringing the lunar bot’s anxious fidgeting to an abrupt halt.

“Vertigo?” Sun wastes no time in getting straight to the point, as usual.

You press your head back against the wall with a quiet groan. “Uhuh.”

“Can you tell us what—exactly—you’re feeling right now?” Moon questions you softly as he subtly struggles to pry Sun’s iron grip off of his head.

“Uhh… dizzy… lightheaded… getting kinda nauseous…”

Sun’s hand gravitates toward its favorite spot—that being around your neck—and since you don’t see it coming, you flinch.

He sighs, thumb finding its home on your pulse. “…It’s just me. You should know by now that I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You huff a humorless laugh in spite of your current state. “Yeah, well, I should know a lotta things by now.”

Sun doesn’t humor you with a snarky response, too focused on the current matter at hand. “Your pulse is pounding. Fast.” He’s quiet for a beat before tacking on a question. “Do you not feel it?”

You scoff. “Of course I do, Sun. I’m just used to it. It’s just doing that ‘cause I’m…” you hesitate, but honesty slips out of you rather easily in this state, “...scared.”

Concern seeps into his voice. “Of me?”

This time there’s a bit of humor in the laugh that he draws out of you. “No, Sunny… not you. Not this time.” You press the heels of your hands into the floor, searching for something grounding. “...It’s this. I’m scared of this. Whatever’s happening to me.”

Moon chimes in. “It’s gonna pass. It always does.” He places a hand on your knee. “And we’re right here. Gonna help you through it, just like always.”

You dare to crack your eyes open again, and find his screen blessedly still, light dim. “Still scares me though… don’t know why it’s happening.”

Sun retracts his hand from your neck. “We’ll figure it out. First priority is getting you situated somewhere more suitable. Do you want to go back to bed?”

You mull it over, wishing your nausea would decide to either get worse or get gone already so you could make up your mind. “I… wanna get back in bed, but… I don’t know if this nausea is gonna get worse or not.”

Sun almost shakes his head, but stops just short of it, not wanting to mirror Moon and make things worse. “You know we have a bucket dedicated to solving that very problem, so you can cross that off of your list of concerns. Besides, if it gets worse and you change your mind, we can always take you to the bathroom, easily.”

Sighing, you allow his reasoning to override your anxious, indecisive mind. “Yeah… okay. That’s fine by me, as long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Moon answers for both of them. “Of course we don’t.”

Sun leans back on his heels. “If that was the only thing keeping you, then why don’t we move this to the bedroom?”

In spite of your current state, you can’t help but crack a smile, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Goodness, Mr. Sun. Too eager to even buy me dinner first?”

It takes the solar bot a moment to process the implications of your words, but the way the concerned expression on his face swaps to an empty black screen is enough to tell you that he got the joke—and that perhaps—he didn’t like it.

His voice comes out deadpan as he suddenly stands, distancing himself from you in more ways than one. “Ha-ha, very funny. If you’re feeling well enough to joke around then perhaps you don’t need my help after all.”

Moon grabs ahold of Sun’s ankle as he attempts to walk away, mirroring the iron grip the solar bot had recently had on him. “Come on, Sunny, don’t be like that…”

Sun gives a sharp tug on his leg, but Moon’s grip doesn’t relent. Even without a face nor a voice, you can still sense him silently telling Moon to not test him. You know better than almost anybody that their physical strength is perfectly matched to one another. They could stay locked in a stalemate until their batteries died if either of them truly desired it.

As amusing as it may be to push Sun’s buttons, even you know when something’s about to go too far, so you make the call to break it up. “Ah, let him go, Moon. He’s put up with enough of my shit for one night.”

Moon releases his counterpart, and Sun mutters a quiet “That’s right.” beneath his breath, striding back into the bedroom.

Zero yawns into a whine.

You shakily reach a hand up to pet her and she bends down, slipping her head beneath it. Your voice is something close to jaded when you address the quiet lunar automaton still crouched beside you. “Well, now that I’ve successfully put everyone in a bad mood, I suppose it’s time for bed, huh?”

He’s his usual understanding self when he replies. “I know it wasn’t intentional, star.”

“Yeah, but… I know he’s sensitive. Should really get around to repairing that brain-to-mouth filter of mine one of these days…” You trail off, making an effort to stand, and regret it quite quickly as the world starts to spin again.

Moon’s hands brace you instantly, and a soft request fills your ears as you clamp your eyes shut again. “Let me carry you instead?”

“...Please.”

“Of course.”

The three of you make your way back to bed, and in spite of Sun’s previous statement implying he wouldn’t help you, you notice the way the room is already prepared for you. Bed sheets straightened, pillows situated, lights dimmed as low as they can go. The movie you’d paused is no longer waiting on the TV screen, the device having been fully turned off, and you know that Sun must’ve read somewhere that bright, flashing, moving images on screens can make your symptoms worse. (Who’d’ve guessed.)

He slips back out of your closet as Moon places you down in the center of the mattress, your just-in-case bucket dangling from his hand. His hands settle on his hips after he places it down near the nightstand, still-blacked-out monitor swinging slowly, surveying the room.

“Last time this happened, crackers and water seemed to take the edge off. Would you like to try that again? Do you think you can stomach it?”

He doesn’t mention his (over)reaction in the hallway, and you elect to drop it too.

“I… yeah. Guess I’ll try anything that might help.”

He’s out of the door and off to the kitchen immediately, and back with both items in hand by the time Moon gets you both settled in bed. Moon holds your water and you take the crackers as Sun takes his seat on the other side of you, Zero curling up at your feet. Your shaky hands fiddle with the packaging for a moment before black and yellow segmented fingers hover over your own. You pause, and Sun makes quick, silent work of parting the wrapper. You offer up a quiet “...thanks…” that receives no verbal reply.

A few crackers and a quarter cup of water later, you’re relieved to find your symptoms beginning to ease. It’s no magical cure, but you feel more stable than you did on your own out in the hallway, where you honestly might’ve slept had you been left to your own devices.

Two of Moon’s fingers press against your inner wrist. “Hmm… better, but not back to baseline. Are you still scared?”

You’re quiet for a minute, trying to search for the source of your fear. “Scared… that this is gonna keep happening at random, forever.”

Moon is quick to reassure you. “I’m confident that we’ll work out the root cause of these episodes one day.”

You mumble defeatedly through a mouthful of chewed cracker. “I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

Of course, it’s only once you’re content to let silence fall over the room that Sun speaks.

“You don’t need to fear it regardless. Even if this is with you forever. Because…” he releases a sigh, full of reluctance, but finishes his sentence nonetheless, “...it’s not like we’re going anywhere either.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I'll be back tomorrow with part 2! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Header Image Sources: x - x - x

[smok3r7]

New Traditions // Valentine’s Day Oneshot

Joel x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Main Masterlist & My AO3

Summary: The last Valentine’s Day two years ago has shattered your view of the so-called holiday. When Joel brings up the idea, you shut him down immediately, but he doesn’t listen. He hopes he can change your opinion on the holiday of Love.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: No outbreak AU, no Sarah or Ellie, slight angst, fingered, FLUFF

—

“What woman doesn’t love Valentine’s Day?” Joel questions as he lets your bent knees fall on his lap and lays one of his hands on your bare skin. The question throws you off, it’s a no-brainer; your face furrows instinctively.

“I guess just me,” you shrug your shoulders and laugh, “I just- I don’t have the best memories, is all. Ended up catching my ex of five years cheating on me two years ago with my receptionist. In my own home, might I add. So, safe to say that I despise this bullshit holiday.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah…fucking Adrianna, the gremlin lookin’ bitch.”

“Welp, his loss. So fuck ‘em.” Joel winks at you, causing you to chuckle and slightly shake your head.

“Thank you, but don’t think my feelings are gonna change just ‘cause you said that. Gonna take a lot for that to happen - if that’s even possible.”

“Oh baby, I got a week to think of somethin’ to do for you. But if it doesn’t work, I won’t try again okay?”

You give him a glance as your head lays in the palm of your hand, propped up by your elbow on the back of the loveseat. “Don’t go out of your way, baby, okay? I promise, I’m okay with doin’ nothing special or even related to it. Nothings gotta change, alright?” Your tone has more of an edge than before, making sure he understands that you really, really don’t want to do anything.

Joel must’ve heard the tension in your voice because he just nods his head, yes ma’am. He slowly leans closer and lays a soft kiss on your forehead as he cups your face with his large hands. Both of you turn your attention back to the TV that’s playing an old episode of Dexter, with both of you understanding your wishes.

—

The memory of that conversation finally clicks in your brain as you stand by the round kitchen table, with a mixture of fresh fruits and homemade omelets as Joel stands behind the wooden chair he’s waiting for you to sit in; you’re baffled.

“Joel, I told yo-“

“Don’t, I don’t want to hear it from you.” He interrupts your strong protest, before it can even begin. “Now, here’s the plan for toda-“

“But I said-“ you glare at his face when you cut him off, starting to become irritated because you really did want today to be the same. You just wanted to enjoy the day with Joel with no special treatment, but the fact that he didn’t listen to your wishes from a week ago kills you on the inside.

Why didn’t you just listen to me?

Joel interrupts your sentence by barking your name loud, this is when your body language shifts. Your arms quickly fold in front of your chest, your weight shifts to your left hip, and you just stare into his face with tears starting to blur your vision.

You hate to be yelled at, hell, scolded would be a better word for it. This has always been an issue for you; the minute you feel like a man goes against your wishes and then scolds you for arguing about it - you shut down and start to crack.

An eerie silence coats the walls of the kitchen that surrounds you and Joel. It feels like time has stopped, he stands in front of you with both hands wrapped around the rectangular dark wood chair and his face sharp. Although you’re about eye level to Joel, you somehow still feel small and broken as he looks into your eyes; you’re not quite sure what to do or think.

You look up slightly and start to rapidly blink so you can try to stop the tears from rolling, so you don’t seem like this weak little girl, but this just happens to cause the salty drops to fall. With a fifteen year age gap between you and Joel, there are times you do feel like a child and it twists your stomach into knots.

Your lips quiver from a smile, to biting your bottom lip, to being slightly pursed, all because you’re trying not to lose it completely.

“You went a-against my wishes, Joel,” you barely whisper, lowering your sight back to him in front of you.

“Just-“ he removes his fingers from the chair and turns his body to face you, now only about three feet apart from you.

“Please sit down n’ eat this breakfast, okay, baby?” He questions quietly, which causes his southern accent to vibrate through your ears.

Still with your arms crossed and body weight on your left side of your body, your eyes shift from his face to the delicious food on the table - that he clearly got up early and prepared for you. You don’t say anything when you look back at him, all you do is nod and wipe the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” Joel sighs, he then stands back and lets you sit down as he pushes the chair in behind you, and he kisses the top of your head, then walks to his seat across the small table from you and sits down.

Breakfast is eaten in silence, but a different one than before. This time, the silence feels comfortable and calm, no tension or eeriness in the walls. It’s just the scrapes of the knives and forks on the glass plates, mixed with the chewing from the two ends of the table, that fill your ears.

So delicious, my god.

By the time you clear your plate Joel is already standing up and reaches for your dishes. Instinctively, you move to stop him, but your brain stops your body from rejecting and you decide to sit back in the chair instead.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you scan your eyes up the large body only inches away from you.

“No need, darlin’,” he responds, staring down at you, he then turns and walks towards the sink and sets down the dishes with a soft, clink. “Now, I want you to head upstairs n’ wait in the bathroom for me. I’ll be right up.”

Your brain still isn’t functioning how it should be, and a large part of you wants to scream at him about how you don’t need to be treated with special treatment. But then the other part of you wants to accept this for what it is, that this man is madly in love with you and desires to treat you to special things.

An even smaller piece of yourself really does want to enjoy Valentine’s Day, it’s always sounded like a sweet thing; maybe this is the time.

So you know this isn’t a time to argue; instead, you smile when you stand up, and you don’t say anything when you walk in the direction of the landing that leads to the staircase. As you hesitantly step onto the dark carpeted landing, you hear the faint sound of the faucet turn on and the clinks of dishes in the kitchen.

The corners of your lips softly curl, and you continue up the staircase. The dishes are a part of the cleaning you did around the house - you and Joel split the chores around the large home, it was something that seemed fair for the both of you so no one got overwhelmed or felt taken advantage of.

So, the fact that he is taking the time to do something off of your list causes your heart to flutter. You reach the top of the stairs and head in the direction of Joel’s, and now your, bedroom. When you gently push the door open, your nose is filled with the scent of Joel, the musky scent of his cologne and his shirts lingering in an intoxicating way; this warm tender feeling forms in your belly, you feel so loved.

You just have to accept that Joel wants to do this, it’s not a chore for him, it’s a desperate need that he has.

Swiftly, you walk through the bedroom to reach the master bathroom that’s connected, and you slide the large barn style door open to the sight of tall candles lit and spaced out on the white tile floor and the outer edge of the porcelain tub, a small chair with bottles that read “Shampoo, Conditioner, Butter Cream Bubble Bath” next to the tub, and two white towels on the back of the chair.

When did he have time to do this? You whisper to yourself as you set your bare feet onto the cool tile, sliding the door closed behind you to keep the warm air from the heater confined to the bathroom. Your mind is trying to jumble ideas together, but comes up completely blank.

You still hear the sounds of dishes and water running downstairs, n’ wait for me. A smile grows on your lips, your cheeks warm up, and your belly spins and spins from anticipation. You spot your plush gray robe hanging on the hooks next to Joel’s black one, that’s hung up besides the glass standing shower.

So you decide to strip your pajamas off, the black tank top and sleep shorts dropping them in a small pile on the tile floor beneath your feet. Your right hand grabs the robe off the wall and swings it around your bare body so you can slip your arms through, and wrap the soft fabric around the front of yourself, as you do a little tie to keep it loosely together.

When you spin around to observe the bathroom from this side of the room, the soft glow from the candles is still just as breathtaking and beautiful. You catch the spot on the counter between the two sinks is empty like normal, at least something is the same. It’s the spot you sit whenever Joel shaves, brushes his teeth, showers - honestly, whenever he’s in here.

To keep some kind of routine and normalcy, you stride over to the counter and turn around so you can push your body up and set your ass onto the white and gray marble counter. Why does he insist on doing this? I’m not deserving of this kinda love and affection, it just doesn't seem real.

Your legs dangle off of the edge as you wait to hear the thumps from his feet on the stairs and the creak from sliding the door that separates you from the rest of the house. By now, the noises from downstairs have stopped and it’s only a matter of time until he’s in front of you.

The same time that you lean back onto the large mirror behind you, the barn door to your right gently slides open. The biggest smile appears on your face when you see him standing there, holding a long tray that’s filled with some more fruits cut up, but this time they’re covered in a white chocolate.

“Baby,” you purr as you sit up straight and he closes the door, then walks towards you on the counter and sets down the tray on the other side of the sink. Without saying anything, he turns around and turns the tub faucet on and to the hottest setting, and steam slowly rises from the water. Then he turns and brings his large body between your dangling legs, his hands placed on your hips, and he lowers his head to kiss you.

Your eyes start to well with tears as you kiss him back, but these are happy tears. You’ve never been treated with such care and tenderness, it’s very refreshing to know that a man is still capable of doing simple and effective gestures. Naturally, your arms hook around the back of his neck, which pulls your body right up to his; the smell of sweat, dish soap, and spices from breakfast overpower your nose.

God, he’s perfect.

“Okay, darlin’,” Joel sighs between the last couple kisses before he hesitates to pull away from you. “I want you to know that today is meant for you n’ that I want you to learn to love today. Cause’ you’re meant to, alright?”

With your hands playing with the curls that lay on the nape of his neck, you smile and nod as you stare into his soul-catching whiskey eyes, yes sir.

The smirk that appears on his face has your stomach doing flips, your hips instinctively grinding on his lower abdomen. His fingers dig deeper into your hips that’s covered by your robe as he groans under his breath, his eyes staring daggers into yours, trying so hard to not give in on his desires.

“Stop tryna’ distract me,” he tells you as he smiles and backs away from your jello-like body. Your arms drop in your lap as you watch him spin around and turn the tub faucet off, grab the bottle that reads “Butter Cream Bubble Bath” and squeeze a good amount into the water, and he swirls the steaming hot liquid. Bubbles start to appear just above the rim of the white bathtub, you can’t help but smile like a child waiting to be put in the bath after a long day.

Joel then brings his attention back to you, and the butterflies begin to appear like they did the first time you laid eyes on him at the bar where you met. The way his head cocks to the side to try to analyze you and your reactions tells you that he’s really trying to understand you fully, which you absolutely love.

He steps between your legs again, but this time his hands find a place underneath your ass and your arms hook around his neck once again. Joel then pulls you up, your legs latch around his waist, and your face rests in the crook of his neck, now lined with droplets of sweat from the warmth and humidity of the bathroom. You inhale once again, you can’t help it - you’re just so intoxicated by the smell of him, it’s almost an addiction.

But, just as soon as he lifts you up, he’s kneeling down and sitting you on the edge of the bathtub. You pout your lip at the loss of the body contact, your arms still around his neck as he kneels in front of you, his face now parallel to your chest.

“Don’t wanna’ get this wet, do ya?” His voice is deep and low as his hand reaches for the tie at your waist, his fingers slowly pulling the string keeping the piece of clothing together. You chuckle at his sudden confidence change, and you love when he does this, it somehow makes you fall even more in love with him.

His hands rise up to your shoulders and he gently pulls the fabric off of your body, letting the soft robe pile around your ass and thighs. His eyes gaze up and down your bare body, lingering on every inch of your skin like he’s eyeing his food, about to devour.

You slightly shiver from the warm air that hits your bare skin, Joel’s eyes move to your tits and he watches how your nipples perk from the humid air that circulates around the room. He licks his lips and mumbles something to himself, between the heater on the floor and the thumping of your heart in your ears you can’t make out what he’s said.

Both of his hands are placed on the top of your thigh and his thumbs start to do small up and down sort of motions. Your cunt beats at the same rhythm as your heart, a swirling feeling growing stronger in your belly, and you try to move your hips for some sort of friction. But your body is stuck from the grip Joel has on your thighs. You slightly whine and he smiles at seeing you losing your control.

“Now, spin your little self around n’ sink in.”

You do as he says with no hesitation, no questions, and no arguing. When you spin around and sink your feet into the bubbly steaming water, you’re immediately wrapped in warmth. Hhmm, you moan as you shut your eyes and fully submerge your body into the tub, laying your back on the porcelain behind you.

The water is almost at a scalding temperature, but it feels amazing on your skin, immediately relaxing the tension in your limbs that you didn’t even notice before.

“There you go, babygirl’, just relax n’ I’ll be downstairs, yell for me if ya’ need me.”

“Wait-“ you quickly say as your eyes shoot open and you lift your body up, causing your tits to surface from the water with clouds of soapy bubbles over them. Joel stops his movements and looks at you in the bathtub, waiting to hear what you have to say.

“You’re not gonna come in with me?”

Joel’s jaw clenches at your soft voice and the question, “Only if ya’ want me to,” he smirks back at you. All you do is nod and move your body closer to the faucet so he can slide in behind you. He watches the way the water moves with your body, and he starts to strip himself of the basketball shorts and his dark gray t-shirt, dropping them in the pile of your clothes.

Your cunt clenches at the sight of Joel naked in front of you. His chest and belly full of dark hair, his tan skin underneath, his cock hard up against his lower abdomen, and his thick legs beneath - he’s the perfect man, physically and emotionally.

He steps over the ledge and sinks into the same water you’re in, the bubbles and water now only an inch away from spilling over the edge of the tub. He slowly maneuvers your body so your back is against his chest, and you feel his cock lay against your lower back. Your head falls to his shoulder and leans into the crook of his neck, and your hands rest on his thighs that bend on the outside of yours.

Joel’s strong arms hook around your waist, one hand spreads against your lower belly and his right hand lightly grabs your inner thigh and raises it out of the water to hook your calf on the outer edge of the tub. The drastic temperature change between the water and the air causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, and Joel chuckles. You feel the rumble at your back as he does.

“Now, I want you to listen,” he whispers in your ear as he drags his fingers down your thigh and submerges back into the bubbles and water, stopping right at the crease before your mound.

“My moon n’ stars, you’re beautiful inside n’ out.” He bends his face and you feel his stubble tickle your neck as he starts to leave soft kisses between his words. His hands are still on your lower belly and thigh, giving soft squeezes to your skin; the mixture of it all causes soft moans to escape your lips, but you want more.

“You deserve nothin’ but the best things in life,” the hand on your thigh lowers and hovers over your aching cunt; your hips rise to try to feel him, causing the water to spill a little bit.

“My baby’s needy, huh?”

Mhmm, is all you can force yourself to do as you dig your fingers into his thick thighs and bite your bottom lip as you let him continue to leave sloppy kisses on your neck. Your stomach feels like it has dropped into a sinkhole, you’re just waiting for his touch so you can relax that overwhelming feeling. And just like that, his middle and ring finger swipe from your slick hole to your clit, your back arches and a broken moan leaves your throat from the sensation.

“Love when you finally give in, the noises you make,” his two fingers softly circle your clit and your right hand comes up to hook around the back of his head as you turn your face to meet him.

“N’ the way your body moves,” he whispers into your mouth as he kisses you with moans between each one. His fingers swirl slow circles on your clit for a moment before he lowers them and slowly inserts them in your small hole. The moan that leaves your lips is swallowed by Joel’s kisses as he pumps his fingers in and out, “So tight baby, relax,”

You try but you can’t. You’re so overstimulated from his fingers, his palm hitting your clit with each thrust, his cock throbbing behind you, and his other hand now pinching your left nipple.

I love you, my sweet girl, you look so damn pretty when you’re full of my fingers, your cheeks get so flushed and the way you can’t form words, just drunk off of the love.

You’ve never felt so loved before, this was all about you and Joel being able to do things for you - you’re finally starting to understand the appeal of Valentine’s Day. Pure love.

“That’s it darlin’, just like that. I’m right here.”

You break the kiss and lean your face into his neck, arm still wrapped around his head behind you, and you finally let that coil snap. With the last pump of his fingers, your back arches and you feel this tension release in your hips. Joel, fuck, you repeat into his neck as you calm down from the orgasm he just ripped from you, as he continues to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you.

Shhh, pretty girl, I gotchu, he purrs as his left arm lowers around your waist so you don’t slide down too far into the water.

By now the water has cooled down, and it’s still warm but any longer and the two of you will be laying in a cool bath, which is fun for no one. Joel waits until your breathing has calmed down, and when it does, he taps your thigh that’s still hooked onto the outside of the tub. It jumps a little before you submerge it back into the bath water.

You and Joel chuckle at your body’s response, “You ready, dear?” You lift your face to look into his and you nod with a fucked-out look on yours. “You gotta carry me though,” you laugh as you say it, causing Joel to smile ear-to-ear and a deep laugh leaves his chest, “Was already plannin’ on it baby.”

Joel taps you once again to tell you to lean forward for him to get out, which you do. You watch him grab his black robe off the wall and slip it on as he ties it loosely in front of him. He then goes to grab yours and throws it over his shoulder, his hands then reach for yours to grab onto. You smile as you lift your hands into his and with the help of him pulling, you’re able to stand up and step out of the white tub. Water and suds drip down your body as Joel brings your rope around your body and lets you slide your arms into the soft material, then he ties the string to keep it together.

The smile has not dropped from your face, and you don’t think it will any time soon. Joel now has a softer smile over his, like he sees your opinion changing of valentine's right in front of him.

Joel takes your hand and leads you to the barn door once more as he opens it and tells you to lay down on the king size mattress you two share. Your brain is too foggy to try to refuse, so you climb on the navy comforter that smells of Joel. When you reach the pillows and turn around to lean against the headboard, you notice Joel holding the tray that’s full of the chocolate covered fruits that you forgot about.

Your face lights up as the sight of the chocolate strawberries, pineapples, and melons. So much so that Joel chuckles, I knew you forgot about these. He walks over to the side of the bed and sets the tray on your lap, he then grabs the TV remote that’s on your nightstand and he turns it to the station that plays movies that you always seem to love.

As you shove your face with the fruit, you also watch the guide on the TV as Joel scrolls and you look in the top left corner which reads, “2:48PM”. You almost choke when you realize that you two spent over an hour and a half in the bath, it definitely did not seem that long.

“There it is,” Joel says out loud as he clicks on the 234 channel, “Look at that, Good Will Hunting,” he turns his body to gauge your reaction, which is amazing nonetheless.

“How did-“

“Don’t. A magician never reveals his secrets. Now, I’m gonna’ go start dinner-“

“You’re not gonna watch with me?” You pout, setting down the small strawberry you were about to pop into your mouth.

“I mean, I had a couple more things planned, darlin’.” He replies but he watches your posture and how your eyes lower with sadness, it’s like a gut punch to him to see you like this.

“But if you’d rather sit up here n’ watch this, I’d be more than happy to do that with you.”

Your face brightens when you hear his voice tell you that with pure sincerity. You nod your head quickly, yes, please, baby, spills out of your mouth and you scoot over for him to sit next to you. He chuckles and climbs into the spot you cleared for him. “Wanna’ share?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

The laugh that leaves your chest causes Joel to blush and smile like an idiot. “My bad baby, of course.” You grab the tray and lay half of it on your lap and the other half on Joel’s. You lean into Joel’s side, he lifts his arm and rests it over your opposite shoulder as the two of you watch Matt Damon solve a ridiculous math question.

“So did I change your mind?” Joel’s question vibrates your body against his.

You take a second to answer him, you raise your eyes off of the TV and to Joel’s face where he’s already looking at yours below him.

“Order some Chinese takeout, and you sure did.”

Joel’s laughs and shakes his head, deal, darlin’. The same smile you had from the bath, takes over your face again as you push yourself up to kiss his soft lips.

“I love you, thank you.”

“Anything for you pretty girl, I love you more than the moon n’ stars combined.”

He kisses you one more time before he grabs his phone from his nightstand and goes to the menu for your favorite Chinese restaurant down the street. You bury your body more into Joel’s black robe, and you lower your eyes back to the movie.

Matt Damon bangs on the restaurant window, “You like apples?” The other dude nods his head, and Matt slams the napkin with the girl's number on it on the window, “How do you like them apples?” All his friends laugh as they walk into the street.

[of-elitiism]

Slowly she kept twirling the wine in her glass as she listened and watched him closely. The rummaging sounds of music and chatter filled the lounge, yet the proximity between them made it fairly easy to take in his every word and the breath that came along with it. Adrianna smiled in return, yet again lowering her eyes and feigning shyness. Truth be told, the Fallen wouldn't have hidden away from basking in his attentions as the satisfaction she felt in being entertained like this was the kind of currency she sought after. However, the way he phrased it just now made it sound as if she was being presented with a sort of challenge, no matter which way he might've meant it.

"Very well then," she retorted after gingerly sipping her wine and settling the glass on the table in front of them. Her tone was playful and light, but not as demure and considerate as before. "Let us stop dancing around and talk like adults, hm?" Fully turning her body towards him, she'd pressed herself against his form, on arm reaching around behind him to sprawl fingers over his shoulder, while her other hand slithered a cold, snake-like, touch up his chest and neck. Slender fingers gently wrapped around his jaw and made him face her as she kept a scheming smile upon her lips.

"Should i allow you into me sheets tonight, will you manage to properly keep me entertained? Or will you prove to be a disappointment?" her thumb dragged the tip of her nail across his bottom lips as she seemed to be scanning him up and down, like goods at the market. "My time is precious, i've no reason to play the blushing bride."

[ Adrianna to Roderick ] Accidentally sits too close to the man, so now her thigh is brushing right up on his. This little lounge bar is a bit crowded though, so let's say the proximity would be understandable. Also, this corner table doesnt have individual seats either, just a long bench for patrons to share. She smiles, gingerly twirling a glass of wine. "My, didn't expect these quarters to be so lively this early in the evening. We don"t have to linger for long if you're not to keen on the crowds~"

“I can’t say that I mind the crowds too much.” — especially given how crowded the club could get some days.

Did he prefer the crowds and the limited space that came as a result of it? Of course not… but he wasn’t uncomfortable where he was now, either. Adriana helping herself to some of his personal space all but a given if the two were forced to share said limited space… so the most he gives in response to the unexpected brush of her thigh ( against his ) is a an amused breath as he brings his own glass up to his lips.

“But I can’t say that I mind leaving much either if it gets too rowdy. Or if you finish your drink before I do and decide… you wanna pull me out of here.” The corner of Roderick’s lips curve up as he watches Adrianna. “Or, if neither of those things strike your fancy, there’s nothing wrong with… giving me a reason to leave.”

“At this point, I think you just like the song and dance I go through to keep you entertained.”

Prompted | @of-elitiism

[of-elitiism]

Everyone, what’s a trait you find attractive in a partner?

"Power. Harmless courtship without a tinge of wariness for one's life sounds awfully dull. I do enjoy the thrill of knowing the can rip me apart but chose not to~" Adrianna's response is direct and nonchalant, product of years of experience when it comes to finding those suitable enough to welcome into her bedchambers.

There is a bit of hesitation before he answers, mostly because there's a whole array of things Achim might be looking for in a partner; choosing just one trait seems a bit difficult. "...I'd say honesty. Cuz I don't like bein' lied to, gettin' taken advantage of or just feeling used by other people--- y'know, whatever opposite of being shady and sneaky might be."

"Proper manners and etiquette," Isaac all but sighed his answer, as if he subconsciously knows it's quite hopeless. "Partnership is so very, very enjoyable when following common propriety and moral values. I often am saddened by the staggering lack of consideration individuals have towards others and even themselves, at times."

"...patience. I'm not fond of rushing into anything anymore. I've grown tired of how fast everything and everyone seems to be moving. Should there be someone for me, i'd like them to be patient. And calm." Marcus spoke slowly, taking his time with every word spoken as he kept his gaze lowered and his fingers intertwined.

"Honestly, i'd be awesome if they would just--- like me first! Like-- actually be interested and care a bit about me, but without like--- me doin' something for them first or because they owe me a favor~" Terry's answer is simple an chill, her entire body being super animated as she talked. Her arms flailed around, her shoulders shrugged and she was rocking back and forth on her heels. The small smile tugging at her face is her true defense mechanism so she wouldn't get too emotional with this conversation. "I'd just want them to like me first, that's all~"

[prettymissnotperfect]

A Scene From Serpent's Tongue~Bellamy Blake

Night falls, camp hushed, stars sharp. I'm alone by a gnarled tree, far from the fire, unraveling, tears burning tracks down my face—Charlotte, Atom, I failed. My thoughts scream—I'm a disappointment, worthless, Marcus was right. My chest flutters—Blood, her body. I'm shaking, sobs tearing free—I'm nothing. Bellamy's voice, soft—"Addy." He kneels, arms pulling me close, and I break, sobbing, his shirt damp. He's crying, faint, breath hitching, and my thoughts hum—He's hurting, with me.

His voice is rough, probing—"Why'd you tell him to kill you, Addy? Why'd you say that?" 

His eyes search mine, soft, urgent, hands framing my face. I choke, voice raw—"Because my life's worthless, Bellamy. Nobody would care if I died. Death's better than this, than living with this." My thoughts burn—Charlotte's eyes, Atom's blood, I'm nothing. My sobs shake me—"I failed her, failed Atom, I'm a disappointment, always have been. Marcus knew, he saw it." 

My chest caves—I'm his shadow, failing, always. 

Bellamy's voice is fierce—"You're wrong, Addy. You're everything, to this camp, to me." His tears fall, glinting, and he pulls me closer—"Nobody caring? That's a lie. I'd care, Octavia'd care, Clarke, Jasper. You're not nothing."

 I shake my head—"I let her die, Bellamy. I should've seen, should've stopped her. I'm worthless, death's easier than carrying this." 

My thoughts scream—I killed, I failed, I'm done. He grips my shoulders—"You fought for her, Addy, harder than anyone. You're not a disappointment, you're human." His voice cracks—Jaha, Octavia, his guilt. He shares—"I shot a man, for Octavia, and it's heavy, but you see me, and I'm not nothing." 

I whisper—"I killed people, Atom, and now Charlotte's gone. Nobody'd miss me." My thoughts hum—Death's peace, I want it. He shakes his head—"I'd miss you, Addy. Every day. You're not alone in this." His hand brushes my cheek, wiping tears, and my thoughts spark—He's here, seeing me.

We talk, long, raw—guilt, blood, us. "Why do you think you're worthless?" he asks, voice soft. I choke—"Marcus made me his legacy, but I broke, let those boys try to break me, let Charlotte fall. I'm nothing." 

He's steady—"You survived, Addy. You're stronger than them, than him." I sob—"I don't feel it. I feel empty." He holds tighter—"You're not empty, you're bleeding, but you're alive." His tears mix with mine, and my thoughts hum—He's breaking too, for me. He speaks—"I failed Octavia, Jaha's blood's on me, but you make me want to be better."

 I whisper—"You make me want to try, Bellamy." My thoughts spark—I'm not alone. We sit, his arms around me, my head on his chest, his heartbeat steady, and my thoughts soften—I'm breathing, because of him.

He pulls back, eyes locked, hand lingering. "You're enough, Addy, more than enough." I nod, faint—"Maybe, with you." My voice is soft, and his smile's real—"Together, Kane." My thoughts hum—He's trouble, and I'm falling, but it's safe.

We stand, walking to our tents, stars above. He stops—"Goodnight, Addy. I'd have cared if you were gone." His voice is warm, eyes soft, a vow. I nod—"Goodnight, Blake." My thoughts spark—I'm bleeding, but alive, with him, and it's enough.

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Broadway's Leading Ladies

March 10, 2025 | Town Hall | Evening | Concert | 1H 50M

As a lesbian, the revolving door of beautiful and talented women in pretty gowns had me practically swooning in my seat. As a lesbian who demands some craft and finesse in the work, I have some critiques about how last night panned out. But let's start with the highlights.

In her signature shoulder-baring black dress and grey curls, Bebe Neuwirth took on hosting duties with aplomb, showcasing eloquence and respect for the legends that came before, and endearing awe towards the performers of today. Twice she took the stage following Kate Baldwin, and twice she embodied the starry-eyed reverence that reverberated across the audience.

The night officially kicked off with Jennifer Holliday's "Hello, Dolly," and those low notes were just divine. Her second song later in the night gave her ample room to vamp, as she so often likes to do. She's earned it. I shan't complain. Most of the performances were wonderful. Highlights include Judy Kuhn's "Blame it On the Summer Night," Jennifer Simard's comedic thrill in "Hurt Someone's Feelings Today," (song origin unknown), and LaChanze's "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man."

But the spellbinding show-stealer in this lineup of legends was once again Kate Baldwin. In theatre today, it's all too common for audiences to start their preemptive applause mid-song during a particularly meaty solo. Not so for Kate. She has an intoxicating quality in her voice that lets her soar on the notes as the orchestra cuts out and in the silence that follows her voice, there is utter stillness as the entire theatre dares not breathe for fear of shattering the spell she has cast. And then comes the final lyrical phrase. And *then* the raucous applause. This happened not once but twice last night. First, in a medley of "What'll I Do/Time Heals Everything," that flung my soul into the rafters*, and then later in "Back to Before." For her alone, my night was made and it's why the rating is as high as it is.

And now it's time for the mean lesbian in me to take over. But let's put that below the cut.

Verdict: Why I Love the Theatre

A Note on Ratings

What was this production? Who let these people make such a mess of everything? From the bungled date, outlandish initial pricing, and subsequent pisspoor ticket sales, I am astounded this thing even happened at all. The house lights never fully went down for some reason, but then, Town Hall has never successfully pulled off a single show as long as I've been going. And while the ladies were all in fine enough form, the night had no dramatic flow to it. A series of park-and-bark solos with little variety makes for a strange set list that seemed utterly detached from the attempts to craft a narrative in Bebe's lines and the other tribute speeches. Why, pray tell, are we venerating Elaine Stritch and her magnificent "Ladies Who Lunch," but following it up with Lindsay Mendez singing "Moments in the Woods?" Bebe waxes poetry about Gwen Verdon and her dancing, and then we get Mandy Gonzalez singing "Everything's Coming Up Roses" with hardly a step out of her mark? And someone needs to explain to me how Solea Pfeiffer was placed on the same level as the other established Divas and given two songs while her fellow newcomers were all shoved into one hastily-put-together medley at the end? She's originated *ONE* role on Broadway and it was a big flop. Meanwhile, Amber Iman is Tony-nominated and Adrianna Hicks has a Grammy for Some Like it Hot. I'm baffled.

The stage was just so crowded by the orchestra (in fine form) that there was nowhere to really move, and certainly nowhere to showcase any dance. And if your illustrious host and the three legendary special guests are all famed dancers honoring primarily dancers in their words, why are you not letting anyone dance??? And without any room on the stage, there was no curtain call to be found.

I'll stop myself before I give a song-by-song commentary (of which I have a lot to say). That can be its own post. I'm glad I was here instead of Broadway Backwards (especially seeing that set list...), but I'm hoping the PBS broadcast will have better sound quality. (It won't.) Town Hall needs an upgrade.

[matrixsss]

Mothers Words

For @lucienweekofficial Day 5: Home (ALREADY?) Read below or on AO3

Lucien is always searching for a home, somewhere put in the world. He has had many homes in the past, but none were his true home. As he lays in bed and thinks of how he belongs nowhere, not autumn, not spring and sure as hell not the night court. These places were his adoptive homes not his true homes. Is there even a place that he could call home? Is there really no place on this gods forsaken land that he can call his true home? These questions keep him up at night.   

He longs for a true home, a home that wants and accepts him for who he is. Is there even a place where he truly belongs? Is there a place that he can call his home? He knows these are all questions without an answer. Usually where there is a question there is an answer, but not for him it seems. Lucien hates thinking about this, but late at night when he can’t sleep the thoughts haunt him.   

Home is not a place whispers the wind, a soft familiar feminine voice carrying it to the red head lying on his bed. Lucien sits up, looking around his room, half expecting to find a ghost in the darkest corner. There is nothing in the room, it’s just him, alone. He scoffs, shaking his head before flopping down on the bed. He must’ve imagined the voice, yes of course he imagined it. Calming his racing heart, he turns on his side hoping sleep will take him soon.   

“Lucien.” His mother Adrianna calls him with a soft smile and open arms. He sees himself, not as he is now, his younger self leaps up to his feet and run towards her. His arms wrap tightly around her waist, his head pressed to her stomach. She laughs lightly, running a hand down his hair.  

‘Come, it’s time for bed little fireling.” She says leading his younger self through the Forest house towards his room at the far end of the hallway that was littered with bedrooms of his older brothers. They scare him so he refuses to look up, instead electing to look at the floor as he walks with his mother. Lucien looks at the scene before him from far away, grimacing at the memories that this house holds. Suddenly his mother looks behind her shoulder, giving Lucien a soft smile as if she knew he was there. He knows the smile is not directed at him, she can’t see him, this is just a memory.   

He watches as his mother tucks his younger self into bed, pressing a light kiss on his forehead before sitting up. “Can you tell me a story?” Little him speaks shyly, hoping that this time his mother would tell him a bed night story. Adrianna smiles, she is for once relaxed, without fear and he can see that. His father and brothers are out on a hunting trip and are not to return tonight.   

“There once was a young man, --” She starts with a light sigh. “-- who never knew where his true home was. He searched low and far for a place to call home. Yet nowhere he went felt like home. The young man travelled and kept wandering around in search of that special place to call home. A place that awakes a feeling of belonging. Every night he would wonder if he will ever finds a place to call home. One night on his travels, he encounters a golden soul, ghostly but beautiful. For a moment he wonders if the being will attack him, but she doesn’t. She tells him something important, something that will help him find a way to his true home.” He sees himself slowly nodding off as Adrianna pauses his story, brushing away the stray hairs on his forehead.   

“What... did... she... say... to... him?” He questions slowly, sleepily. Sleep will soon take him. Aurelia giggles lightly, leaning down to whisper the answer in his ear.   

“Home is not a place, it’s a person, a person that accepts you for who you are and makes you feel happy. That is a home.” His younger self is fast asleep as Adrianna sits up, looking at the child with love and a deep sense of sadness.   

“I truly hope you find that in life, my little fox.”   

Lucien shots up in bed for the second time, only this time the sun has risen and is encasing the room in its soft, warm light. He reels from the memory of his childhood, he looks to his right to the window. Watching as the birds fly freely in the sky. Lucien smiles, a sense of relief filling his body. He finally knows where and who his true home is.   

“Thank you.” He whispers into the wind, hoping his message reaches his lovely mother and that it gives her strength.   

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

Hell of a Show

Jake Kiszka x fem oc

Fifteen years after resigning from Greta Van Fleet, for reasons undisclosed to the public, Coley Payne is asked by her former band members to tell her side of the story.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, angst, shameless flirting, sexual reference, mention of parental death

Words: 3.1k

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED***

***Table of Contents***

The Beginning: Interlude iii

2039

Josh hasn’t changed at all. 

Coley’s reminded of that as his laughter fills the house off and on whilst rambling about his family…

How his daughter’s starting first grade in the fall, his partner’s graduating with his doctorate in Literature in December, and what film projects he’s working on currently. 

They’re able to actually have a pretty in depth conversation, this time, as opposed to the party they were at the last time where carrying on a lengthy conversation was nearly impossible. 

Meanwhile, his twin brother quietly pouts at his poor timing whilst sipping his drink (that has shifted to something a little stronger than beer over the past hour), and eventually heads back to the kitchen to start on dinner officially. 

As more time passes, more people start showing up. 

Rhett, Collins, her boyfriend—Dominic, Kayce, his wife—Brooke, their daughter—Adrianna, all show up within ten minutes of each other, filling the house with all the more noise. 

Rhett and Kayce are able to make themselves at home immediately because they often find themselves here, anyway, having reconnected with Jake through the years.

That’s solidified when the first question out of Addi’s mouth to Jake is, “Where’s the kitty-cat?!

Collins, on the other hand, is having a more difficult time facing the house she hasn’t seen since she was seven years old. 

Like her aunt, she assumed he would’ve moved out after everything that happened, but  he appears to enjoy making himself miserable. 

Sitting on the couch, she glances around at how things seem so similar yet so different. 

Despite Jake’s more-than-welcoming persona and gracious skill of hosting, the home just isn’t as warm or inviting as it had been all those years ago.

It’s merely a skeleton of the love that once flooded it when they first moved here, but it feels exactly the same as it did the day they left it with Jake inside. 

The brunette glances at her aunt while she’s enveloped in conversation with Brooke, the maroon-haired woman explaining to her husband’s aunt that their new house has flooded twice now from the plumbing, and they’re not sure what to do. 

“We’ve had two people come out and look at it. We’re scared the air conditioning unit is screwed, now, from all that water.” Brooke adds. 

“Maybe aunt Coley can call her special H-VAC friend and get you guys a discount.” Collins voices suggestively to jest at her aunt.  

It’s as if a record has scratched silence into the home, everyone seemingly hearing her say it. 

Jake nearly chokes on his beer from where he hears it from the kitchen, while his twin brother jolts from running his mouth to Rhett, who’s taken up the mantle of helping Jake get the food ready to go in the oven.  

“What?!” Josh calls from the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. 

“Who?” Kayce presses. 

“‘Special friend’? Since when do we have ‘special friends’?” Josh adds, stepping toward them. 

“We don’t have special friends.” Coley assures him. “It’s not a thing—”

“—She wants it to be, though.” Collins teases. 

“Elizabeth Collins.” Coley scolds her. 

“Wait a minute, wait, wait, wait,” Rhett shakes his head. “Is this the dude that came and fixed the a/c when I was over there?”

“Yep. He left her his personal cell phone number to get back to him if it broke down again.” Collins explains. “Then she texted him—”

“—To ask a question about the new unit!” Coley defends herself. 

“What did he say back?” Josh asks the question they’re all wanting to know the answer to. 

“That she could call him anytime she needed and he’d be over.” Collins states. 

“Okay, you’re making it sound bad.” Coley tells her niece, rolling her eyes. 

“That’s what he said, Aunt Coley?” Kayce snaps, raising his brows. 

“He was talking about if I needed anything else H-VAC related.” She insists. 

“No, he wasn’t.” Josh thoughtlessly blurts, blinking at her in confusion that she could be so…oblivious. 

“You know, Josh, some men don’t want sex 24/7.” Coley states, crossing her arms. 

“You text him and tell him your unit needs an adjustment. See if he even shows up with tools—well, ones for the a/c, at least.” He mutters into his tequila soda before taking a swig. 

Her nephews and her niece erupt into laughter, which takes her into the pit of a bad mood, not wanting  Jake to get the wrong impression but she doesn’t understand how he can’t, now that everyone’s made it out to be much worse than it actually is. 

“Whatever.” She grumbles, standing up to step to the kitchen to finally get something more than water to drink. 

The food’s been in the oven for a few minutes now, while Jake’s been remaining in the kitchen—avoiding Coley the best that he can for the time being—absorbing the conversation and keeping his mouth shut.

Coley can practically feel the tension leaking from him when she steps into the kitchen and sees him leaning against the counter, downing the rest of his drink.

“Do you have wine?” She inquires quietly, hearing her niece, nephews, and Josh carrying on from the living room. 

Jake doesn’t answer her at first, only stepping to the fridge to grab a bottle and place it on the counter.

“Here.” He mutters, reaching into the cupboard and holding out a wine glass to her. 

Her fingertips brush along his hand when she accepts it from him, and he shut the cabinet and takes in a deep breath, looking at her from the corner of his eye to make sure she’s not looking at him before he outright stares at her. 

“I’m not screwing my a/c guy, by the way.” She assures him, flatly, opening the bottle and pouring herself some, feeling his eyes on her back. 

“I wouldn’t care if you were.” He lies, and she looks over her bare shoulder and blinks at him before taking a sip of the deep red liquid. “You’re single. You can sleep with your a/c guy. You can sleep with my a/c guy if you want.” He uses humor to try to distract from the fact he’s overthinking it entirely.  “Bet he wouldn’t fuck up the wood flooring—they wear sensible shoes.”

Coley turns to face him, leaning against the counter opposite of him, unable to resist the smile that creeps to her face from his words while a quiet giggle leaves her. 

“We’re in our forties. I think we all wear sensible shoes, now.” She points out. 

“You wear sensible shoes now? What, you went from six inches to five or something?” He sarcastically scoffs, recalling the heels she wore in here.

“Four inches.” She corrects him, raising her brows. 

“Four inches?” He asks, cooking up a smart comment that she doesn’t catch in time before he cuts his eyes at her and adds, “Since when is four inches enough for you?” 

Her face burns red, and she lets out a flustered breath. 

“I kinda walked into that one.” She admits with a sigh before bringing her glass to her lips, again.

Jake watches her do so, looking at the glass that she drains and places on the counter to refill. 

“Want some?” She offers, noticing his attention on her as she pours more for herself. 

The wine itself is the least of his desires compared to the woman holding the bottle.

It’s an invitation for trouble…and they can probably say “goodbye” to their meeting once they hide in the kitchen and get drunk before Connie even gets here…

The doorbell sounds, signaling the perfectly timed arrival of their former manager.

“Maybe later.” He tells Coley, ripping his eyes from her to get some relief—or at least try to, taking the opportunity to leave the kitchen and go to open the door. 

“Hey, kid!”  They hear her pipe to Jake as soon as he opens the door, not even giving him a moment to greet her before she’s adding, “Oh, my gosh, look at you!” her hands patting at his handsome face. “You need to shave.” 

Coley’s blue eyes nearly roll out of her skull at the sound of the woman entering the house when Jake ushers her inside and offers to get her something to drink.

“Water. Hi, dear,” She says to Josh when he welcomes her in a hug, adding, “Oh, new faces,” referring to the group in the living room as Jake moves back to the kitchen.

“Just two new ones.” Josh says to her. “You remember Kayce, Collins, and Rhett.”

“How could I forget?” She chuckles, and Coley bites into her tongue as Connie’s introduced to Brooke, Addi, and Dominic. 

When Jake fixes her water, his ex-girlfriend whispers, “Spit in it,” causing him to laugh quietly. 

“Be nice.” He tells her lowly after mustering up his ability to be serious, raising his brows as he looks down at her. 

“I am.” She insists, lying through her teeth. 

“I’m serious, Coley, be nice.” He repeats it, more sternly. “This needs to be as cordial as it can be. Just let bygones be bygones.”

“What am I gonna do, Jake? Fire her again?” She asks, making him get nearly nose to nose with her to drive his point home. 

“Bygones.” He repeats, his eyes staring into hers as he awaits her agreement to do so. 

“Don’t shave. I like this.” She avoids acknowledging his request for peace, the wine already loosening the filter connected to her mouth and brain, as she admires his face an the facial hair he's let grow out.

He marks yet another thing of hers that hasn’t changed in the last fifteen years. 

His eyes descend from the crinkles at the corners of her eyes from her smiling, to the curve of her lips that only grows when Coley plainly sees he's distracted.

“Here.” He snaps out of it, handing her the glass of water. “You need this more than she does.” 

Coley shoots him an unamused look and he gets Connie more water before walking to the living room to hand it to her. 

“Where’s Sammy and Daniel?” Connie asks as Jake hands the glass to her. 

“They’re coming.” Josh assures her. 

It’s as if now Connie’s realized that Josh isn’t the last one to arrive. 

“Has hell frozen over?” She asks him, raising her brows. 

“Coley got here early, too.” Josh shrugs. “For different reasons, I’m sure, but…” He adds with a subtle wink at Jake, who retorts with, “Shut up.”

“Oh.” Connie says upon the realization that Coley is here, after all, having not even paid attention to the amount of vehicles in the driveway. “Coley’s here?” 

Coley rolls her jaw and now feels obligated to go acknowledge Connie, coming to the living room to join everyone else. 

“Well, what do ya know, she is!” Connie adds sarcastically, beaming at the sight of the blonde woman before her. 

The last time the two women saw one another, Coley was taking matters into her own hands, and firing her. 

No consulting the band, no inquiring with other managers, or legal, or their publicist… 

It was a sporadic, angry, fed-up, “Get your shit and go back home,” that had been conjured up on a day and a half of no sleep, dealing with children who were growing more and more difficult from constant traveling, and last-minute shows being added to the schedule.

“Hey, Coley, how are you?” She asks, next, deliberately speaking it in a manner intended to irritate the other woman, and it does in all its sickly-sweetness. 

“As good as I can be.” Coley retorts, taking note of the way a select few people in the room seem to be holding their breath. 

They’re soon seated around the dinner table, talking and waiting for Danny and Sam to arrive at any moment while the food is finishing up in the oven…

“…Gosh, it was a nightmare getting these kids ready and on stage on time!” Connie exclaims with a laugh, sharing some of the joys of being on the road with five stubborn young adults whose ammunition of barbaric pass-times was endless—all while Kayce, his wife, Rhett, Collins, and her boyfriend cling to each word.   

Connie brushes her strawberry blonde hair from her eyes before taking a sip of wine and carrying on about the very hectic chaos of sound check, clambering back to their rooms to shower, going back and forth on when to leave for the venue, scouring around for wardrobe and what to wear, trying to race the clock for hair and makeup, weighing how much to drink or not drink to avoid being drunk on-stage…not to mention the array of technical difficulties, illnesses, or vehicle break-downs along the way. 

It was a whirlwind more times than not, moving at what felt a million miles an hour. 

“Mmm, and then, of course, it was only that much worse when you three came along.” She continues, motioning to Coley’s niece and nephews. “God, being up with two toddlers in the middle of the night, making sure the seven year old didn’t wander off, trying to keep you entertained on the road, keeping up with shoes and diapers, and hairbows, and toys…” She drolls on before quickly turning her attention to Rhett, “What was that blanket you drug everywhere that had the embroidered rabbit on it?” 

Rhett snaps his fingers as he tries to remember what he called his beloved possession…

“You say that like it was you who was up with the two toddlers in the middle of the night, and you keeping up with Kayce, and you keeping them entertained on the road, and you keeping up with shoes and diapers, and hairbows…” Coley cuts in, eyeing Connie.

Josh and Jake glance between the two women as tension starts to tighten in the air, unbeknownst to the handful of twenty-somethings surrounding them.

“…And it wasn’t a blanket, it was a pillowcase, and it was called ‘Rabby’.” Coley informs her, lastly.

“Rabby, that’s it.” Connie says, blinking with a sarcastic smirk directed at Coley, then focusing her gaze back on Dominic and Brooke, “Gosh, we forgot that thing in Barcelona and didn’t realize it until we got to Madrid, and Rhett screamed and cried until Coley and Jake went back and got it. It was a complete nightmare.”

“Are we surprised?” Collins pokes fun at her little brother, and Josh and Jake laugh it off, hoping that it’ll ease the change of energy. 

It’s a lost cause when Connie pointedly adds, “Hey, now, Rhett never stopped any shows on account of pitching a fit.”

“Thank you.” Rhett says with a chuckle, too naive to understand the slight bitterness in Connie’s tone as she brings all this up. 

Of course she’s still bitter. 

It’s now that the decently convincing expression on Coley’s face falls, and her leg knocks into Jake’s under the table, signaling him to pipe, “I, uh, I wouldn’t necessarily call it her pitching a fit.”

“Yeah, she couldn’t really control her spells, you know?” Josh adds with a shrug while simultaneously mentally preparing for Connie and Coley’s inevitable rift. 

Dominic glances at his girlfriend and she offers an uncomfortable smile, growing embarrassed, her eyes shifting to her aunt who rolls her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. 

“Oh, yeah, talk about a clusterfuck—oh, sorry,” Connie offers, looking at Addi who’s perched on Brooke’s lap before looking at Dominic and ripping the lid off of the can of worms that’s at the heart of the contention that began between her and the Rhythm Guitarist years ago. “Collins used to get so upset when Coley would have to go on stage, or go to meetings, or leave her at all, really, and she would cry, and cry, and cry. Well, one night they got on stage and Collins started up, and she couldn’t catch her breath, and then the next thing we know she’s turning blue, and passing out!”

Everyone else who had been present for the terrifying health scare don’t necessarily wish to relive the details of it, but Connie doesn't pay that fact any attention.

“Which the doctor said to just blow in her face and it’ll help her catch her breath, and that seemed to work. But it was a whole mess to try to get anything done without her being glued to Coley’s hip.” She quips.

Jake’s hand is a welcomed comfort when it lands on Coley’s thigh, free of any intention other than reassurance. 

She releases a deep breath and keeps her mouth shut, trying to maintain the peace while surrounded by people she loves and wants to spend time with…

“…In fact, I think tonight will be the first time we have a meeting since 2019 where she won’t have a baby in her lap.” Connie’s over-exaggerated laugh matches her over-exaggerated comment, and Jake feels Coley tense under his palm, predicting her response the way that an eery calm predicts a hurricane. “It was overwhelming.” Connie finishes with a shake of her head before breathing out and adding, “I need more wine,” while standing up to go to the kitchen.

“I got it.” Jake offers but she waves him off.

Coley contemplates what she does next, weighing the option of either tearing into her right here in front of everybody, or doing so somewhat privately…

“I’m getting more, too.” Coley mumbles, grabbing her own wine glass.

“Coley,” Jake mumbles, subtly shaking his head while Josh distracts the other guests with a joke. 

“Do you want me to do it outside, or in here, in front of all these people?” Coley asks Jake in a mutter, raising her blonde brows. 

“I’d prefer you not do it at all.” He replies.

“I’d prefer her not do it at all, either, yet you guys invited her here, so.” She grumbles and rolls her eyes, moving away from the table and into the kitchen, glaring at Connie’s back.

“You know what was overwhelming?” Coley asks her as calmly as she can, and the older woman sighs out and replaces the cork in the bottle. “Sherri and Trace dying. Both of their parents. Dead. In the same moment. I think that constituted Collins ‘pitching fits’ when she felt like people she loved were leaving her, and Kayce needing to ‘wander off’ and be alone every now and then, and Rhett being so attached to that damn pillowcase of his mom’s that you always bitched about him dragging around.”

Constance turns to face her.

“You can be pissed at me for firing you. I understand that. But I don’t understand, nor will I ever want to understand, why you’ve always been so damn pissed off at the fact that I didn’t just let those kids go to the fucking State—because, again, it’s not like you were their caretaker having to endure and adapt to them.”

“Postponed shows, canceled shows—”

“Oh, Christ, of course, anything that messed with your money.” Coley scoffs.

“I comforted you and watched you have a meltdown because you thought you were knocked up and knew you couldn’t raise a kid. Only for you to turn around and voluntarily take on three of them, and not tell anybody until it was already a settled deal. Not even your own boyfriend—who was miserable, by the way, but never told you that because he supported you, and just wanted you to be happy. Even if it meant becoming Father Goose before he was even twenty-five—but, hey, anything Princess Coley wants, right?” There’s a bite of resentment in her voice, and Coley furrows her brows. “It was always your way or no way. Hell, you left Jake because he wouldn’t get off the road. You’ve always been like that, and nothing has changed because you still have your panties in a bunch over the fact that they re-hired me after you quit, and you have no say in whether I’m here or not.” Connie scoffs.

“Wanna bet?” Coley asks her, confident that she could go to Jake and have Connie out of the house within the next two minutes.

The strawberry-blonde steps to her, looking down at her before getting eye-level with her like a child.

“I do, actually, because they asked me—personally—to do this documentary with you guys. They want me here, regardless of whether you do or not.” Constance states, about to walk past her back to the dining room before stopping. “And my issue isn’t with those kids. It’s not their fault their aunt is a forty-year-old who still acts out when she doesn’t get her way.”

.

.

.

.

.

@takenbythemadness , @edgingthedarkness , @lizzys-sunflower , @zooweemama555 , @fleetingjake , @hollyco

[normaltothemax]

@gothamsworn

He’s known it was coming for a while now; both Adrianna and Arthur have already gone through it, and Alexandria and Abigail are younger than him, meaning they still have some time. So when he’s called to his father’s office (something entirely uncommon in and of itself), he’s not actually all that surprised to learn that he’s being married off. Betrothed to a man, an alpha, he’s never met and only knows by reputation alone. A reputation that doesn’t entirely endear him to said man.

Honestly, the most surprising part about the whole situation is the fact that it’s a man his parents are giving him to. Though, considering the number of children Bruce Wayne already has, and the fact that Archie himself is only third in line of the Howells successors, he supposes his parents can maybe afford to be a little more progressive, in this case.

Then his parents throw an actual curveball at him: Bruce Wayne is here, waiting for him in the sitting room they use to host the most esteemed of guests. Archie is leaving today, now, and his things will be shipped to him, should Bruce allow it. He doesn’t know how long this has been in the works for, doesn’t know if his parents knew ahead of time and chose to keep it from him until it was too late (though he figures that’s probably the case). Hell, they might have simply forgotten to tell him; it’s not as if he ever crosses their minds until they want him to do something anyways. His head spins. He feels a little like he can’t breathe. Had it happened this fast for Alexandria and Abigail? He honestly can’t remember.

He feels a bit detached as his parents lead him to the sitting room. Almost like he’s watching a movie play out, rather than it being something that’s actually, currently happening to him. His heart is racing by the time they enter the room and his eyes finally land on the man. Bruce Wayne. He’s more attractive in person, Archie can’t help but think. Very aesthetically pleasing. Pleasant on the eyes. He can’t look away as the man comes closer. Doesn’t move, barely breathes as his parents introduce him as ‘Archibald’—he doesn’t bother correcting them, knows it wouldn’t end well. He just holds his hand out for Bruce to shake like he knows he’s supposed to, when he’s supposed to. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” Archie has no idea how he managed to get that out and keep his voice sounding steady and sure, but he’s thankful that he did. His parents would never forgive him if he embarrassed them at a time like this.

[n0t-evenhere]

Ya know, there are you go to be times that living with Ray won’t be so sunny. Arguments for sure. However, even if Ray is angry, I feel as if he would let you leave angry. Let you stay upset. He can’t stand that. The idea that you are mad at him or that your hurt because of him. So…I wrote about it.

⚠️ warning ⚠️: this fic talks about heavy material, obligation, trauma, yelling, unhealthy family relationships

“I just care about you”

Ray x OC (Adrianna)

Ray gripped the counter with fingers, knuckles turning white, it took great effort to not break the granite of the kitchen counter top. “I am an adult Ray! I get to make my own decisions! I don’t need you to baby me okay?” Adrianna said her tone heightened, Adrianna had always been a hyper independent individual. Even to her detriment. “Adrianna…I’m not babying you. I am just trying to make sure you are taken care of. That you take care of yourself.” Ray was a nagging man. He cared, cared so much, he hates the idea of his loved ones not being taken care of. Especially if it’s preventable.

“Okay, then-wha- what do you even want me to do? Okay, I- what is this even about? So what, I-I went and helped my mom, that is not a crime!” Adrianna argues, Adrianna is a caring girl, a heart too big for her chest. Helps people the best she can. To the point that she ignores herself. “No, it’s not a crime to help you mom. Don’t phrase it like that. You know I’m not talking about that.” Adrianna shook her head. “Okay, then how would you put it huh? How would you say it?” She inquired with an attitude. Both people reaching a breaking point where both are frustrated.

Ray took a step forward, his voice dropping low, he couldn’t believe this. She know what he’s talking about but she’s making him say it. “Your mother…she had you come over to “catch up” only to ask for money because she wanted to live beyond her means. Oh, and her boyfriend is a bum and can’t even make payments either. So…let me ask you adriann. Did she ask for money?” He knew the answer but he needed to hear it, no, she needed to get it. Adrianna was quiet, her lips twitching trying not to show that he got it on the money. “Answer me.” Adrianna didn’t want to answer but he was right. “Yes.”

Ray nodded. “And guess what, she’s going to disappear again for another year and half until she needs money again.” Adrianna shook her head, Ray was right. Of course he was. That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is she knew. She knew every time this is exactly what would happen. Why does she do it? “Okay, so what?” Adrianna said, unsure how to respond so…she answered in frustration. “So what? So what?!” Ray couldn’t believe this “Adrianna, why are you so stubborn?!” Ray shouts. “It’s…it’s not about being stubborn, it about- it’s…” *she couldn’t think of what to say. “Ray, I get it. I-I know you don’t understand and you don’t half to-“ Ray cut her off.

He stopped her right there, “I don’t have to understand Adrianna. Fuck l- I don’t even think you know why you do it.” Ray retorts. “I mean, really, you- she doesn’t love you Adrianna. She left you when you were seven. No, no, she gave you away when you were seven. She never contacted you any time. Even when you were older, even when you were out of the system. She never contacted you! The only time she contacts you is when she needs something!” Ray knew the truth would hurt, he knew Adrianna already knew, she just needed to hear it again.

Adrianna went quiet again, her throat tightening, she wished he was wrong. Desperately so. The more she thought about it, the more it was out of obligation. The title of mother, by blood. Brought what she thought was an obligation. That made Adrianna feel even worse. How could she do that? It hurt herself but it felt wrong to do that to her mother. Adrianna shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let it go.”

Ray brushes his hand through his hair, frustrated, if they don’t talk about it then she is just going to continue to do it. “Why do you do this? Huh? Why do you shut down when things you don’t want to talk about come up? You say your an adult so fucking act like it!” The frustration was ratting at Ray, however he wasn’t actually angry at her, he was angry at how she treated herself. Falling for the same thing over and over again. “I can’t tell if you are fucking naive or just flat out fucking stupid.”

Adriannas heart clenched in her chest, those words hurt her already hurting heart. Her eyes watered, no, no, no. I-don’t cry. You can’t cry. Adrianna thought to herself. She didn’t want to cry. She hated being so sensitive. Rays eyes soften as he sees the tears. “No- I, please. Don’t do that….” Ray hated many things, the worst of those things is seeing her cry. His frustration simmered down. “I’m okay. I’m…I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back later.” Adrianna said, wiping the tears away as fast as possible before turning away to the door.

She tried to turn the knob but it didn’t budge. She knew Ray was keeping the door closed. “Okay, Ray. I said I’d be back.” Adrianna explained with an on edge tone. She tired the door again. No dice. “Open. The door Ray.” Her voice was more on borderline panic. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to have a total breakdown in front of him. She didn’t want to cry, she didn’t want to hurt. Not in front of him. She wasn’t ready for him to see that from her. The door still didn’t move. “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR RAY!” Adrianna yelled in frustration, the build up bubbling over. Ray could let her go. Not like this. Not when she’s hurting. Not when he’s part of the reason.

Ray took steps forward before snagging Adrianna from behind. “HEY! Let me go! I-I want, I want out. I want to leave. Please!” Her voice was desperate. Ray kept his voice soft. “No. I won’t do that star.” He took steps back heading for the stairs. She fought him as much as she could, crying. Breaking down. He was seeing some of the worst of her. That scared her half to death. “Please, I- I don’t want- you don’t-“ she could even form the words without feeling like she’d be exposing herself to letting him know that she didn’t want him to see her like this. Even if he already knew. She always felt guilty when she broke down. Felt wrong.

Ray shook his head, dragging her upstairs ieht his arms under hers, her back against her chest. “No. You are staying with me. I’m not letting you go anywhere.” It broke his heart to see this, so desperately wanted to hide herself. Didn’t she know he wasn’t afraid? That he wouldn’t be swayed away from her over this? There was nothing she could do to separate him from her. She didn’t talk anymore. Just sobbed. Using his telekinesis he opens the door, closes it behind them and locks it. Tossing her to the bed, she tried to get up but he was by her side before she could move.

He held her close. Her chest to her back, keeping her close. “Why are you making me stay?” She questioned through sobs. He pushed her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “You are hurting. I can’t let you leave hurting. Especially when I played a part. I hate the thought of you having to feel hurt alone. You’ve been by my side in some of my worst moments. Even when I wasn’t kind to you at first. You stayed. You’ve seen. You can’t hold yourself to a different standard. You can’t expect me not to do the same for you.” He cooed, kissing her exposed neck softly. “You never have to fear being human in front of me. You have trauma, you have been hurt in many ways, you are wired differently because of those things. Just like every other person with trauma. Me included. You don’t have to hide.”

She shook and heaved in his grasp but she didn’t fight him. In her heart she felt safe. She felt seen. Even if it was scary. “I’m sorry. I know I was harsh but I hate watching you get torn apart over things that you know aren’t good for you.” Ray explained, it tore him up to see her tear apart. “Fall apart Adrianna. Fall apart and I’ll hold you together.” He whispered to her. Kissing her behind the ear.

Blue light and OG

[chucklenutss]

LIST OF BANDS/MUSIC ARTISTS THAT I LIKE IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER (because I have nothing else to do) (i probably missed some out)

A

- A Perfect Circle

- Adrianna Lenker

- Alex G/Alex G Offline

- Alice in Chains

- alt-J

- Amy Winehouse

- Aphex Twin

- Arctic Monkeys

- Avril Lavigne

B

- Babes in Toyland

- Basement

- bauhaus

- Beabadoobee

- Beach House

- Beastie Boys

- Beck

- Bedroom

- Bikini Kill

- Birth day

- Black country, New road

- Black Kids

- Black Lips

- Blur

- Blondie

- Blvck Hippie

- Butthole Surfers

- bôa

- Bratmobile

C

- Cage The Elephant

- CAKE

- Calpurina

- Car Seat Headrest

- Cardiacs

- Carson Clay

- Chapell Roan

- Charli xcx

- Cherry Glazerr

- Childish Gambino

- Chris Isaak

- Cigarettes after sex

- Clairo

- Cocteau Twins

- Current Joys

D

- Dandelion Hands

- Daniel Johnston

- Daron Malakian and Scars on Broadway

- Dayglow

- Dazey and the Scouts

- Dead Calm

- Deftones

- Destroy Boys

- Djo

- Dominic Fike

- Dream, Ivory

- Dreamer Isioma

- Duster

E

- Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros

- Elastica

- Elliot Fullam

- Elliot Smith

- Emezie

- Evanescence

- Everclear

- Eyedress

F

- Faye Webster

- Fiona Apple

- Flatsound

- Floor 14

- flyingfish

- Fontaines D.C.

- Foo Fighters

- Foster The People

- Frank Sinatra

- Franz Ferdinand

- Fugazi

G

- girl in red

- Girls Rituals

- Glass Animals

- Gorillaz

- Greenday

- Greta Van Fleet

- GRLwood

- GROUPLOVE

- Guided By Voices

H

- Hatsune Miku

- Have a Nice Life

- Heavenly

- Her’s

- Hole

- Hot Flash Heat Wave

- Hozier

I

- I am the Unicorn Head

- I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

- IC3PEAK

- Ice Cube

- Insane Clown Posse

- Instupendo

- Isaacwhy

J

- Jack Stauber

- Jack off Jill

- Jamiroquai

- JAWNY

- Jeff Buckley

- Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

- Joey Valence & Brae

- Joji

- Joost

- Jordana

- Joy Division

K

- Kali Uchis

- Kasabian

- Kate Bush

- Kero Kero Bonito

- Kikuo

- Kimya Dawson

- King Krule

- Kittie

- Korn

L

- L7

- Lady Gaga

- Lamp

- Lash

- late night drive home

- Laufey

- LCD Soundsystem

- LE SSERAFIM

- Le Tigre

- Limp Bizkit

- Linkin Park

- Lorde

M

- Mabel Ye

- Mac DeMarco

- Mac Miller

- Mafumafu

- Mag.Lo

- Make His Ribs Show

- MARINA

- Mars Argo

- Masayoshi

- Takanaka

- Matt Maltese

- McCafferty

- Memo Boy

- Men I Trust

- Metallica

- MF DOOM

- MGMT

- Michael Cera

- mid

- Mike Krol

- Mitski

- Modern Baseball

- Molchat Dolma

- Mommy Long Legs

- Mother Mother

- Muse

- my bloody valentine

N

- Neutral Milk Hotel

- NewJeans

- Niko B

- Nine Inch Nails

- Nirvana

- No Doubt

O

- Oasis

- of Montreal

- OK Go

- Orville Peck

- Outkast

P

- Panchiko

- Pantera

- Paramore

- Pavement

- Pearl Jam

- Penelope Scott

- Perfect Confusion

- Phoebe Bridgers

- Phosphenes

- Pinegrove

- Pink Floyd

- PinkPantheress

- Pity Party (Girls Club)

- Pixies

- pizzagirl

Q

- Queens of the Stone Age

R

- R.I.P/Vewn

- Radiohead

- Rage Against the Machine

- Ramones

- Rare Americans

- Red Hot Chili Peppers

- Red Velvet

- Remi Wolf

- Rex Orange County

- Rio Romeo

- Roar

S

- SALES

- salvia path

- SE SO NEON

- Serj Tankian

- Sex Bob-Omb

- Sex Pistols

- Sign Crushes Motorist

- Siouxsie and the Banshees

- Sir Chloe

- Slayer

- Sleater-Kinney

- Slipknot

- Slowdive

- Slutever

- Smash Mouth

- Snot

- Sonic Youth

- Soundgarden

- SONDER (my band!!)

- sputn1k

- Stereophonics

- Steve Lacy

- Stevie Dinner

- Strawberry Guy

- Sublime

- Suki Waterhouse

- Syd Matters

- System of a Down

T

- Tacocat

- Take Care

- Tame Impala

- TEMPOREX

- The Backseat Lovers

- The Big Moon

- The Black Keys

- The Breeders

- The Cardigans

- The Cranberries

- The Cure

- The Fratellis

- The Frights

- The Front Bottoms

- The Garden

- The Hives

- The Julie Ruin

- The La’s

- The Libertines

- The Moldy Peaches

- The Offspring

- The Oozes

- The Smashing Pumpkins

- The Smiths

- The Strokes

- The Velvet Underground

- The White Stripes

- The Rolling Stones

- Thundercat

- Title Fight

- Toby Fox

- Tom Cardy

- TOOL

- TV Girl

- TWICE

- Twin Peaks

- Two Door Cinema Club

- Tyler, The Creator

- Type O Negative

V

- Vacations

- Vampire Weekend

- Violent Femmes

- Vundabar

W

- Wallows

- Weezer

- Wolf Alice

- Worry Club

- Worthikids

X

- X-Ray Spex

Y

- YELLOW MAGIC ORCHESTRA

- Yot Club

- Your Favourite Martian

not much down here…