#[something REALLY STUPID like NOT BEING ABLE TO DO A SIMPLE TURN WHILE MOVING WITH THE FLAG]

[talkorsomething]

Too [insert adjective here] for guard ...................

Well, it's only half related.

We "hit a pothole", "had a slipup", whatever you want to call it — sunday. Aka: for the sake of my sanity we are not labeling it a relapse but good god does it feel as though I have invited the demons back in.

I know why, but I don't really know why. Because, I mean... I never have, to begin with. So: when I decided i was doing it sunday, i accepted it. "Let it happen", as someone would probably say to me. It's not...

I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's like anything - it comes and goes, a few times a year, and no matter what, I always ignore it.

Except, maybe there's something I'm not paying attention to? Or, ignoring, is the better word for it?

Of course it would be the one thing I have happening in my life.

November, I was burnt out for unrelated reasons. It was a lot to take in. That made sense. Now? ... why now?

There's not really any pressure on me. Yes, I have to do things, yes, it will be noticed if they're bad, but ...... it's not important. We don't spend time on it. I'm coming back next year, but it might be at the cost of ... all of this. I think it's progress. I haven't touched my guitar in any serious capacity in over a year. I think it's progress.

I don't take compliments well. I can't tell if that's why I don't get them, but I'm not being corrected much either. Only when I drift too far from what the work is supposed to be, only after weeks of it going, I can only assume, unnoticed. I keep getting stuck.

...push it back down.

Telling me I'm doing good isn't telling me what I know I have to be getting wrong. I could take it, at the cost of... all of this. I'm anticipating, and I know it can come. This is not where I was when I started.

It's been said, I haven't been told, that not starting it means you're more of a burden, by making the other person have to do it first. I know that. I do. And still it doesn't help. I'm not drowning. It wasn't an accident, but it wasn't planned, either. I don't know you.

I don't know you.

I'm not a good person. I'm not a nice person. Every week I tell myself this is really it, and every week I come back, and ... what? Forget I ever said anything? Forget we're not friends?

Well, we're not, huh? Nobody is, with me. What you see I swear you misunderstand. You don't ask. If you do, well, I can't answer. We're at an impasse.

It's not even my fault we didn't make it. I shouldn't feel like this over nothing. I don't do anything. You will, correctly, not let me do anything, because potential doesn't matter if you can't back it up. If you won't back it up. I let things happen to me.

I don't even feel better. And, actually, ironically, i think i know what would let me feel better. If I can't be upset with anyone else, at least I can be with myself.

... but, well, not even that. Your heart in my hands, but I mean it diegetically. And metaphorically. I hate putting myself out there, I hate having to actually perform, and yet every time, no matter what, I do it. I'm fine. I only cared at the start, and even then not very.

I don't feel anything. Not a lot, anyways. I don't let it happen. I can't. I don't know what it'll mean if I start being honest with myself.

...

I've pulled myself out of this before. A few times, now. Different circumstances, but I've done it all the same. Seasonal depression notwithstanding.

I'm only here because I did things I was scared to. And still, I'm the same. No progress made. The only way out is to do it again but I feel like I can't. I can't.

Will someone just let me say that?

Will someone just fucking help for once?

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[whackk-kermitt]

Confessing Your Love

Genre: Headconons

Warnings: Cursing(Brok..)

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

Kratos

“Hmm,” followed by a slow nod.

He wouldn't say anything immediately.

He will just kind of look at you, studying your eyes.

He doesn't want to take chances.

Man has trust issues!

Telling him you love him will make him so happy yet so scared.

You wouldn't be able to tell.

Eventually you'd hear, “I love you, as well.”

He'd immediately ask you to move your things to his home if you haven't already.

He loves you, so you need to stay close so he can protect and provide for you!

He'd start to find more excuses to touch you and you'd laugh telling him he doesn't need them.

Eventually, he will be comfortable enough to walk up to you just for an embrace or smooch.

Mimir

Before his head got..you know.. His first instinct you be to turn to you completely.

“Really, Las? An old man like me?” He'd laugh but he'd offer to do something romantic.

Smartest man alive, but he never saw that coming.

Either way he’d swear his loyalty and heart to you.

Anything you want, he's on it.

After his head…

He'd probably hesitate to return the sentiment, no matter how genuine it is.

“I- I can't offer you much, Las.” He’d frown.

He'd feel inadequate, and undeserving- he's just a head after all!

What could he give you in terms of love and affection?

After telling him his company is all you desire then he'd probably think you've gone mad.

But after a while of talking about it he'd smile and say it back.

You'd carry his head on your belt during travels throughout the realms after.

Giving him kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

It's simple and innocent devotion and its loves that he's enough for you.

Atreus

Telling Arteus you've got a crush on him would probably make him completely freeze and go red.

I'm talking his fathers tattoo red!

Lots of stuttering and blushing while you guys talked about it.

He wouldn't really know what to do or say afterwards.

But no doubt he'd eventually be able to get it out that he likes you too.

He's never done any of this before, so he'd probably go to Mimir or Freya for advice.

If and when you ever hold his hand or hug him his palms get sweaty and he gets nervous.

But he's happy to oblige!

He thinks your so cute.

Talks to his dad about it.

He's shy, but after a while of spending more time hanging out with you he’d get cocky and try to show off and impress you more.

Half of the time he’ll be trying so hard he just ends up looking silly or just straight up stupid.

But you laugh it off and tell him how cute and sweet he is.

He's whipped.

Freya

No matter how comfortable she is around you, no matter how safe you make her feel, she'll hesitate.

As soon as you tell her you're in love with her, she'll need room away from you.

In every relationship so far, she's been to much or not enough.

The woman is hurt and healing.

She's scared its not the truth, like with Odin.

Or if it is, and you truly love her, then what if she messes it up?

What is her love is to much for you and you leave her?

Or what if, out of fear of being too much, she’s not enough- and you leave her? 

Freya can't take another heartbreak.

But after seeing how understanding you are of her past, and reassuring her worries that you're not going anywhere she's willing to listen.

You'd tell her that it doesn't matter if she loves you the same way, or another, as long as your with her its enough for you.

And hearing that would be enough for her.

You'd have to take things slowand steady with her.

But she is so very much in love with you.

She will make sure you both set boundaries to keep her from going to far and pushing you away.

She doesn't wanna lose you too.

Brok

“Well it's about fucking time!”

He's so cool and sure of himself on the outside, so he'll play it off like he know you loved him.

But really he's surprised.

He's not the most romantic man, but he'll give it an honest try for your sake.

He’ll get flowers and sweets for his lady.

Most definitely start bringing about you to everyone he meets every chance he gets.

He's very standoffish when it comes to affection.

So any time you give it to him he'll stutter just slightly and awkwardly reciprocate it while he gets used to someone being infatuated with him.

Very defensive and protective is anyone makes comments about you two.

“Mind your business, you unfuckable drauger-looking bastard!” 

Very confident on the outside, very unsure on the inside.

He's worried he's not doing it right but all he needs is you smiling at him the way you do and he'll be just fine. 

Sindri

Congratulations, you broke him.

His initial reaction is giving O.O

Wide eyes, red cheeks, mouth open.

He'd stutter for a response and get frustrated with himself for losing his voice for a moment.

Give him some time and words will just start spilling out.

He loves you, that was no secret to anyone!

He’ll tell you all about it when the air come back into his lungs.

He’ll go on and on about how pretty you are, and amazing, and how much he likes your smile.

Lots of nervous chuckles and shy grins from this man.

He hates when people touch him, sorry to say you're no exception.

But you figured you wouldnt be; at least for now.

However he is willing to hook his pink finger to yours every now and then as a very small step in the direction of hugging you.

Having you love him really makes him frustrated with his thing with germs and dirt.

He’s never had a problem with it before.

But now he wants to hold you and be held by you and the thought of it makes him shiver in disgust.

It's a fear he's willing to conquer if it means one day he'll get to see the smile on your face when he holds you with out gagging for the first time.

You know better then to take offense; it's nothing personal.

He gags at everyone. 

Tyr

He didn't see it coming.

But he had hoped..

It was a happy surprise when you blurted it out while spending time with him while reading.

He gave you a soft smile after the shock settled and returned the sentiment .

Not much had to be said between you two after that.

The only thing that really changed in the relationship were beginning to sit closer together and a lot more gentle touches.

He'd rest against you while you braid his hair, and he'll braid yours.

His eyes have always laid on you softly, but there's something more in them when he looks at you now.

Contentment.

He’s happy to share any moment a with you that he can. 

Heimdal

He knew.

He knew you loved him for a while.

He knew you wanted to say it.

The cooky little shit just waited and waited until you did.

He wanted to hear it.

But when you approached him and said you loved him it felt different then he imagined it would.

He knew you, and he saw in your head that you truly meant it.

He knew you loved the good, the bad, and the ugly in him.

He knew that unlike the other people who have claimed to love him, you didn't think ‘i can change him.’

He saw the unsure insecurities in your head and body language that he wouldn't feel the same way.

After all, he reads minds, and he knew what you felt all this time and never addressed it so clearly he wasn't interested, right?

To be honest, up until that point he hadn't really considered your feelings despite knowing them.

You had told him you loved him, but you had only said it so he would tell you what you believed he would- that he doesn't care.

You had only said it so he could break your heart, and you could get closure, and hopefully move on.

It twisted his gut that you were walking into this fully believing you would be turned away.

He saw in your head that you had already been crying over it.

But that's not what he wanted, so instead being sarcastic or rude like he would be with literally anyone else he smiled at you.

“I know.” He said softly.

Thor

“Good for you.”

He's not really interested.

Plus he's still married.

So piss off.

Not proof read.

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[lohotine]

(does a lil twirl) hi!!! hello!! i’ve never sent in an ask like this before, so sorry if i do something wrong o|-<! but what would be your take/your thoughts on a yandere shadow milk situation, where the reader truly starts to fight back, resist? 🤔

AN: Inspo from the song "Meant To be Yours."

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Yandere, toxic relationship, obsessing, manipulation, mentions of murder

-Locked Out-

"Come on doll, you're just being silly!"

A few knocks would be sounded on your door.

"I already told you. I'm not coming out until you agree to let me leave!"

Shadow Milk sighed. Surely you didn't think that something as simple as a door would be able to stop him... right? He almost found your stupidity amusing....

Oh well. Entertaining this small delusion of yours for a little while couldn't hurt.

"You know locking yourself in there kind of defeats the purpose of being able to escape, right?" He'd ask you.

...

"I don't care! I just don't want to see your stupid face. I hate you!"

And you'd keep repeating that last line over and over.

"I hate you."

He knew better than anyone that those words held no truth. They couldn't! How could you hate him when all he's been doing has been in your name?

He lived for you. He breathed for you. All of his thoughts were for you. It was all you, you, you, you, you!

You were akin to a beautiful bird. One that, if it were to ever escape, would surely be hunted down by others. That's why you needed to stay here, with him, where he could keep you safe.

Keeping you chained down was in your best intrets, even if it did strip you of your freedom... He was the only one who deserved to see you, after all.

"Listen, my doll. I love you so much. Why don't we just end this silly argument?"

His voice sounded so inciting, yet it was laced with a venom that would kill you if you ever let it in.

"No. Don't talk to me unless you're bringing me outside."

There you went again, acting all stubborn... It was a fun game at first, but it's now become a lot more troublesome.

"Open this door," he said, this time with much less leniency in his voice.

He said it in such a way that shook you to your very core. It was cold and uncaring, unlike his usual playful self.

But... you just knew you couldn't open that door. You'd basically be handing your freedom over to him.

"You know I hate it when you do these things-" a loud bang came from the other side of the door, "you always make it look like I'm the bad guy."

But you would not move. You did not open that door. You could not open that door.

"If this door isn't open in five seconds, I'm going to come in there myself."

...

What caused his personality to change so much?

"Five."

Why did it have to be you that he adored?

"Four."

Can't he just leave you alone?

"Three."

He's actually insane!

"Two."

Please go away...

"One."

....

You asked for this, Shadow Milk thought to himself. If only you had cooperated more. Maybe he wouldn't have to do these things. It really was all your fault.

He vanished into some shadows before swiftly reappearing on the other side of the door; where you were.

Ah, he just loved seeing your face full of fear.

We're you scared of him?

Good. You should be.

It's about time you realize who's really pulling the strings.

"You didn't really think escaping me would be so easy right? A simple locked door is hardly an obstacle, doll." He bent down in front of you, smiling and patting your head degradingly.

Tears would prick the corners of your glossy eyes as you realized you had lost.

"Oh, I've just had the most brilliant idea!" He leaned slightly closer to you. "You said you wanted to go outside, right?"

There wasn't a response from you, but you looked up at him ever so slightly.

"How about I bring you to a nice little village and slaughter each one of the residents in front of you?" His smile turned crazed, and there was hardly any sanity left in those eyes of his.

I mean, of course he'd never actually bring you outside. There was too much risk in something like that. He just needed to scare you a bit. Get you to submit.

You'd grab his arm and started to beg; quite pathetically at that.

"Don't-"

He just kept smiling, forcing you to your feet and dragging you around by the wrist.

"Wait! Don't do that please," You'd say in between a few sobs.

His grasp around your wrist tightened.

"Tell me you're sorry," he said.

"What-?"

"Apologize."

"I'm sorry.." your legs began to quiver and you'd take a small step away from him instinctly.

He cupped your face, bringing you closer to him. "For what?"

"For not listening."

It's strange, really. He was the one breaking you down, yet you were the one apologizing. It's scary how easy it is to get you crawling back to him.

"All right. I'll forgive you. But only because I'm so loving and understanding."

He brought your face to his, pushing his forehead against yours.

"Just know that next time I won't hesitate to kill all of them, and it'll be all your fault if I do."

《☆》 Fin

[bunnliix]

Love Shot

Inspired by this dialogue prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting "You’re so adorable. I want to pick you up and never let you down."

word count: 1 260 warnings: drinking, alcohol, (not) unrequited crushes, reader getting drunk, reader wanting to get blackout drunk

I was never the type of person to go out clubbing and drinking. Any of my friends could tell you that. I normally stayed far away from clubs, they were far too loud for my taste, and yet here I was on a Friday night, by myself trying to get blackout drunk. There's a bit of a backstory on how I got here, and it all started earlier while I was on campus.

For a bit of backstory, most of my friends I met while in college, except for Felix. Felix and I have been friends since high school. We were both the nerdy type of kids, except that he had the advantage that puberty was nice to him. While I've had a crush on him since I met him, however I valued my friendship with him too much to ever say something. I'd rather an unrequited love, than to lose him over something simple like a crush. It ended up happening by pure coincidence that we attended the same college, but it worked out really well for me. I'm more of an introvert, while Felix is the extrovert who makes all of our friends, and that's more or less what happened.

Most of that isn't really important though, to be honest, except that I still have the biggest crush on Felix, six years later. He and the rest of our friend group, affectionately called "Stray Kids" for some reason or another, are the campus hotties. Which means I get to see girls upon girls try and shoot their shot with all of them, and for most of the boys, I don't give a shit who they date. I however get way too envious sometimes of the girls I see hanging around my best friend. Chan, the eldest of the friends, was sitting with me while we watched the boys have fun. 

"Are you ever going to say something to him? About your crush on him?" He questioned me. I turned to him like he was crazy. We've had this conversation a million times, and it was never going to happen. 

"I've told you Chan, he'd never like me that way, and I'm never gonna jeopardize my friendship with him over a stupid crush." 

"You'll never find out if he likes you though, if you never say anything." He retorts.

"I don't wanna find out if he doesn't like me. Besides, there's a good chance I could mess things up between him and I, and I'm not taking that chance." I stood up, and moved to leave the table, grabbing my things as I said goodbye to Chan. I really didn't want to deal with the guys nagging me to finally ask him out, it just made it worse. I headed home, before having the stupid idea that I should go out and drink instead of staying home, but impulsive decisions are a thing I do a lot.

I know it's kind of a shitty reason to be out trying to get blackout drunk at a bar, but honestly I couldn't think of anything better to help me deal with the pain of not being able to tell Felix I like him. I was about four drinks in, and already on my way to being wasted when I felt a hand land on my shoulder. I look back, my vision already blurring to see Felix behind me. "Hiii Lixieeee!" I giggled, waving at him. He grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the bar, while I took my drink with me. 

"Lixie, where are you taking me? I was having a good time at the bar~" I pouted at him, my words slightly slurring. He stopped suddenly and turned to face me, leaning down to cup my face in his hands. 

"Why are you out drinking? This isn't like you." He asked me, looking concerned. 

"Why are you so concerned, Lixie? I'm just having some fun and letting loose a bit. Aren't I allowed to have fun?" I shoot back at him, some frustration coming out in the process. I chug down the rest of whatever was in my glass, feeling the burn as it made its way down my throat. Felix reached to take the glass and put it somewhere out of my eyesight.

"Chan told me where you were. He was out with a couple of the other boys and they saw you here by yourself. You never go out to bars, why are you even here? If you wanted to drink, I would have brought over stuff, and we could've had fun at your apartment. Why are you doing this? Tell me, please?" He questioned me, begging me to answer him. 

I assume it was my lack of self control, but I blurted out, almost angrily at him, "I'm in love with you, okay! I've been in love with your cute face for the last six years, and I can't bear seeing you with other people. I want your eyes on me and only me. And I was never going to tell you because I didn't want to ruin our friendship." I couldn't bear to look at him after that. Felix went silent, and I started getting tears in my eyes, which started falling when the man started chuckling.

"You’re so adorable. I want to pick you up and never let you down." That made me look up at him in surprise. "Did you never think I wanted you too? I've wanted you so badly, wanted to call you mine. I was too scared that you wouldn't feel the same way. Oh baby, I think we've both been idiots for a little too long." He pulled me into a hug, resting his head on top of mine, before saying, "How about we head home now, yeah? We can talk about this more in the morning, when you're sober." I don't have it in me to do anything more than nod.

He takes me back to his car, opening the passenger door and helping me in, before going around to the driver's seat. He started the car and drove us the short ride to his apartment he shared with a couple of our friends. I was still a bit too intoxicated to walk by myself, so Felix assisted me up into his apartment, and then into his bedroom, having me sit down on his bed while he found clothes for me to wear. He set them out on the bed, pushing me to change into them while he went and found a spare toothbrush for me to use. By the time he returned, I had changed into the shirt he left me, but decided not to put on the shorts. He handed me the toothbrush, and since I had been here before, I knew my way to the bathroom. I quickly washed up, feeling a bit less wasted by the time I returned to his room. Felix was already waiting on his bed for me to get back, and ushered me into his bed and under the covers, while he laid down on top of them. 

I looked up at him, and softly asked, "Can you hold me while I fall asleep?" He nodded, blushing and moved under the covers with me, as I rested my head on his arm as his other one came around my waist. 

He softly kissed my cheek as he whispered, "Good night." It didn't take me long to fall asleep in his arms, feeling the happiest I had been in a while.

[ladybellissima]

Special Ending Finding Love Katakuri Charlotte x Reader

Step after step, she walked along the corridor of their shared home, deep in thought. Like a robot her hands glided over her already big stomach, concentrated to feel every little message her body might was sending to her. "(Y/N)…keep calm. Everythings alright. Your child is alright. You are alright. The doctors told you so…", she whispered with a deep sigh, nevertheless a smile spread across her face. Anytime she was going to be a mother. Anytime Katakuri would be called a father. How fast things could change. And how fast 9 months could pass. Again a certain pain errupted at her back and slowly crawled torwards her stomach.

"You will definately know the moment your baby wants to come."

Definately, (Y/N) knew that she was completely clueless. Sighing she thought about Katakuri, who she already brought on the verge of a mental breakdown, because of her uneasiness. And by god she felt huge. How was her stomach able to grow so much? And why did she feel happy and devasted at the same time?

"Something's wrong?", a certain deep voice cut through her thoughts and let her stop in her tracks. Turning (Y/N) was met with Katakuri's calm expression, still eyebrows raised in question of her sudden activity. Normally he found his wife sleeping or relaxing, waiting paitently for their special day. Or better, she wasn't really able to do much moving with her latest size. Katakuri couldn't but feel helpless about not being able to support her more. Only able to watch over her and listen to her worries, in hope to make things easier. And again he was right in finishing his work earlier, feeling that something was off. (Y/N) on the other side felt exhausted and strained of causing him to worry again. She couldn't help it. Couldn't hide her inner conflict.

"Nothing's wrong, Katakuri. I am just restless today..i..i know that everything's fine..yeah.", (Y/N) spoke with a short smile, while accepting his hug and sweet kiss onto her forehead.

"Tell me (Y/N)…", he whispered, while kissing her cheek. Avoiding his strong gaze, she felt uneasy to start.

"At the beginning of your pregnancy you've told me every little detail. Literally every little detail…", he spoke and had to chuckle of this certain call he got from her. Quickly he rushed back home, thought she was sick and needed help. With pride (Y/N) announced that she felt miserable and had to puke for hours.

"Back then, i thought you were terribly sick, but you just tried to tell me that you were pregnant.", he added and felt relieved to make her chuckle.

"Yeah, i just knew something was going on. I felt lightheaded all the time..", (Y/N) whispered with a sigh, while brushing across her stomach, till Katakuri took her hand. To think that this rough start was just the beginning of a honestly nightmare.

"Not to mention your sudden outbursts of anger about well… nothing. ", he joked and gave her hand a kiss. Oh how helpless he felt of (Y/N)'s tired and angered mood. Not that he never experienced a fight with his wife, but this was on a whole different level. Easily she left annoyed or grumbled and complained about simple things, like his leaving for his duties or on special days his breathing.

"Well but there was a beautiful answer, why all this happened. Alongside endless calls and visits of doctors…", (Y/N) started kind of ashamed. "To think how often we called out to the doctors..how stupid of me..", she spoke uneasy, while avoiding his strong gaze.

"You were afraid… that's okay (Y/N). It's your first. Better we check and ease your worries than let your fears haunting your mind..", Katakuri spoke, while touching her stomach to maybe feel his baby's push. How excited (Y/N) was bursting into his office at whole cake chateau, ignoring his complains how on earth she could travel without proper protection and pregnant on a ship, to grab his hands and lay them onto her stomach. And how dissapointed she was after Katakuri felt nothing, explaining that sure she felt a push and moving. To be honest he also felt slightly annoyed about the fact that he still didn't receive a push against his hand till today. Like getting already rejected.

"Yeah but it got out of hand. I honestly couldn't really calm down..is he or she okay? Still moving, still growing and not in danger..still alive.", she whispered afraid, while Katakuri gave her a short nod of approval. He knew and honestly he expected this journey to be more sweeter. Was beyond happy to have a child with (Y/N). Felt overwhelmed, proud and powerful.

But it wasn't an easy pregnancy.

At first (Y/N) felt excited, couldn't believe that she really was becoming a mother. But beside feeling terribly sick for a long time, (Y/N) felt like suffocating. Often panicked of this overwhelming feeling to lose control of her body, while her stomach grew. She felt mentally exhausted, ugly, fat. Never would she be herself again. And after all her personal conflicts, she felt uneasy of her baby's health either. How could the baby be okay, if she felt so damn sick all the time?

Sighing of thinking about their pregnancy journey, (Y/N) felt unbelievable grateful to have Katakuri by her side. He never complained and brought her even late at night to their doctor. (Y/N) knew that he was worried too. Sure terrified. Fighting with his inner self how to help her, but honestly there was nothing to do. It was fate. It was pure luck and patience that they had come this far. Slowly she reached for his face, pulling his scarf away to kiss him deeply, but a sudden shot of pain let her struggle.

"Tell me (Y/N)…", Katakuri spoke seriously, while watching his wife taking a seat. Sighing (Y/N) bite her lips in frustration.

" Okay. Well i feel a strange uncomfortable pain. Coming from my back and it's also spreading till here. ", she spoke with a hectic voice, while pointing at the certain spots at her stomach.

"You feel what!?!"

Holding her breath, (Y/N)'s body froze in the spot of her husband's sudden outburst.

"Isn't that bad!!? Pain is bad or not?", Katakuri suddenly spoke - shouted, quickly made sure she stays in her position in holding her shoulders. "Don't move so much! You make it worse! I've read that you shouldn't move and stay in bed, if you are in pain! Why were you rushing around like a maniac!?", he spoke shocked, while thinking of what to do first.

Blinking in surprise, (Y/N) scratched her head irritated. "You've read those pregnancy books too? In some way you sure are right, but i was thinking more about the pain of giving birth…maybe?" , (Y/N) asked frustrated, holding her stomach of another shot of pain.

"Well…well..maybe this was part at the beginning..i can't remember..hell..you tell me! Are you giving birth (Y/N)? Now?", Katakuri stuttered helplessly, while feeling drops of sweat already forming onto his forehead.

"I…i am not sure. It's not that bad. Maybe it's just a stomach ache. I don't want to cause another ruckus at whole cake..God Katakuri i don't know, what to do. Wait. Not wait. Maybe something's off. Maybe not. Hell what about all this lovey dovey shit in those shitty books about a beautiful pregnant woman with a small bump and no worries at all. Going for a daily walk, laughing and chatting with her prince charming and then blop…it's here!", (Y/N) growled pissed, balling her fists in anger. Katakuri knew right away to keep a safe distance and let his wife calm down.

"Okay..well think ..let's think ..", Katakuri spoke stressed, while walking up and down the corridor, like his lovely wife used to. Watching the sweet commander with a short smile, (Y/N) felt tears stinging at the corner of her eyes of another shot of pain.

"Katakuri…", (Y/N) whispered and made him stop in his tracks of her faint and shaken voice.

She knew.

"Please..bring me to the doctor.."

He didn't have to use his skills to know that things got out of hand from now on. And even if he had read books about pregnancies to be prepared, he wasn't prepared for this at all.

(Y/N) knew that it wasn't a piece of cake. Knew all too well that it would hurt badly, after already going through different stages of pain during her pregnancy. Starting from back pain, stomach ache, even her legs hurt endlessly and got swollen.

But

The pain of giving birth was overwhelming. On top of not knowing, if you are really in labor at the beginning. The more (Y/N)'s nervousness raise, the more pain shot through her back and stomach. Unbearable long cramps, which made her vision slightly blurry. In a way she felt kind of in a trance, everytime another shot of pain errupted inside her. Was this her final day? It felt surreal. Faces passed her vision, pale, afraid, shocked. Voices around her got louder, while she was carried secure in Katakuri's arms, whos voice cut through her shocked state. Shouting and ordering servants around. The next moment (Y/N) felt herself placed onto a soft mattress, while Brulee spoke soothing words to calm her down. But honestly, (Y/N) wasn't able to really listen to anyone, while Katakuri got pale like a ghost, after she couldn't but had to scream. Couldn't but had to plead. Couldn't but had to shout, while doctors just gave her an supportive smile and advice to breath. She felt lost. Helpless. Frustrated of not being able to escape. And there it was the point of regret. There was no going back. While (Y/N) went through hours of pain, Katakuri got pushed outside by his sister to calm his shaking form and prevent him screaming at the doctors, who waited paitently and observed his wife's Odyssey.

"This isn't normal!!! This can't be normal!", he growled frutrated, while holding his head in distress. Rubbing his back, Brulee tried to support him as good as possible.

"You've heard the doctors.. everything's fine. She is going through a natural birth. It's sadly normal to go through hours of pain. Believe in her…i know it's hard to watch her suffer…she is becoming a mother..can't believe it Katakuri. I am so excited..", she spoke and gave him all the time he needed to calm down, but the sudden call of a doctor let him freeze in the spot.

"Master Katakuri. It won't take long anymore."

Like a robot Katakuri stepped back into the room, ears drumming of (Y/N)'s screams, slowly stepping to her side. He never saw her like that. Never heard such screams, deep and filled with pure pain and horror. Helpless digging her nails into his skin, while clinging onto his arm.

(Y/N) didn't get a sign, but pushed. Pushed against the pain, till a sudden shot released her amniotic fluid. For a moment her body froze in the spot of comprehending the situation, till the waves of pain got her back into screaming. Doctors called out to her to wait, till she was ready, but all she was able to was push. Push to stop this nightmare. Push like an inner instinct to survive.

And suddenly her big bump got smaller, while the feeling of losing something overwhelmed her form. Shaken her body got kind of cold, sweat glistered on her exposed skin, realizing that she was completely exposed down under.

But it wasn't important, because a loud unknown voice echoed through the room. Took her place in screaming at the top of its lungs.

Shaken like crazy, (Y/N) started to cry bitterly. Pressing a hand onto her mouth, she tried to control her outburst of emotions. It wasn't possible. Overwhelmed her baby was placed onto her chest, the weight unexpected heavy, pressing down onto her. Crying she watched her child for the first time. Her beautiful little boy with crimson hair. Speechless her look wandered up to Katakuri, who watched his son with wide eyes.

"Katakuri …we have a son…he is finally here…", her raspy voice called out to him. Shaking his head of hearing her normal voice again, Katakuri took her hand to press it softly. "(Y/N)…", he whispered exhausted, while watching her in disbelief. He didn't need to say a word. She herself had to still come back to her senses. Calming down, slowly realizing that the pain was completely gone.

"Congratulation!! What's his name?", a voice called out to them to pull them back to reality.

Smiling at each other, (Y/N) and Katakuri touched their son's hand, still couldn't really believe that this little one was their own.

"You are already special and you will become so much more.. whatever path you choose..ours is already settled in believing in you…Okashi"

Hopefully it is the way you all wished 🥳❤️💚❤️ let me know 🎉🎊 and Okashi means Sweet in japanese 💚

[moollypop]

indigo park theory: what ARE the mascots?

i've had many thoughts on this since chapter 1 came out, so this will be a long one.

TW for animal cruelty and abuse below.

first off. they are NOT animatronics. uniquegeese has explicitly said that himself on streams, and this is added on by the fact that mollie literally gets decapitated and dies, blood spurting out of her disembodied head. lloyd and mollie also just, generally look a lot more like living, breathing creatures than just some mascot suits or robots with their fur, feathers. as well as being able to blink and emote.

so that begs the question: how do these exist, if they aren't just robots and are in fact flesh and blood? well... judging by some of the context clues we've gotten so far, i think i can make a guess:

Indigo Park created the mascots through animal experimentation and genetic remodelling.

first off, the mascots themselves. at least, in the state they appear in. they are far more reminiscent of wild, feral animals than killer animatronics or toys or what-not from most other mascot horror games. lloyd in particular stands out in this.

when we first find him, he's all curled up asleep on the theatre stage. again, another point to these being living breathing things if they require sleep. only to then run off on all fours as soon as he wakes up and notices ed, then proceeds to stalk them within the backstage. keeping to the shadows and retreating when he's spotted or isn't in position to properly attack, again, like a real lion stalking its prey until it's within striking distance.

lloyd DOES walk on two feet properly, though. primarily when he trots away after first being sighted in the backstage, and later after ed grabs the key, lloyd does physically walk around even though it isn't visible to the player and he despawns after they leave the room with the key until it's time to do the jumpscare.

(credit to horrorscoped's "what indigo park hides in rambley's railroad and theater areas" video for the screenshots)

second, and what i think is most important to answering this question: mollie macaw. it's established in her death screen that she can mimic things that she's heard, including voices, which macaws in real life can also do. and while it's hard to hear them during her chase sequence, she has SEVERAL voice lines that play. most of them are taken from the rambley's railroad ride from earlier in the chapter, but there are several others that seem to be taken from employees or guests before the park's closure. i'll link a video to them here, but the lines i'm referring to in particular are:

"Stay in your seat!"

"I wanna play with the birdie!"

"Don't touch that thing, son..."

"Get up, you stupid freak."

"Get back in your cage, bird."

"The customer is always right."

the two i'm focused on mainly are fourth and fifth ones, which are undoubtedly park employees. calling her a freak, telling her to back into HER cage... paints a very, very unpleasant picture of what's going on. one that is confirmed even more by an easter egg in rambley rush, where if you fall into the fourth pit while moving to the left, you can find a second mollie inside a cage.

verbally abused and caged up... like a mistreated animal.

so... why? why create these "mascots" instead of having employees dress up in costumes like other parks? they clearly intended to at one point, as they had at least produced a costume for rambley before the mascots entered the picture... simple, really. money.

if you were a business and wanted to maximize profits with little morals, why not try and turn animals into your company's characters for your theme park so you can avoid paying your employees a little extra for going around in costume? if companies are willing to replace writers and artists with AI, why not put in a little more effort to create something else to do that job for you instead of having to pay someone else to do it?

but, something happened. maybe one of the mascots finally had enough and attacked an employee or guest? who knows... whatever the case, the park was suddenly and quickly evacuated with the events being covered up.

and the mascots were left to rot. with no humans to supervise them and keep the instructions and training and company-mandated rules drilled into them, combined with the isolation and likely mental toll it took... they regressed. they slowly lost what made them "mascots" in all but appearance, and now? they're animals again. wild, feral animals. ones that don't see a random person as a guest to greet, but as a smaller, weaker animal. a prey.

and with so many years having passed, likely not having much in the way of food outside of any other wild animals that might happen to wander into the park... they're likely very hungry.

[mdhwrites]

Luz Left a World to Die

Here is Luz's perspective on the Collector at the end of S2. This all powerful being who can move celestial bodies and reshape the world around him as he desires just killed Belos by playing Tag with him. One poke and splatted him against a wall. Then he turned to me and my friends and asked to play with us. By all indications, he had no intention of holding back just because they might not be able to handle it. No one acts like they're safe. They quickly do all they can to make sure they don't play Tag, hence why they come up with a new game. Then they run out, escape being the only option as The Collector tears bone asunder with seemingly no effort and robs her of her found brother.

THAT is the version of the Collector that Luz thinks runs the Isles. That she thinks needs to be beaten. It is in fact because of how bad The Collector is that she claims to have fucked up so hard. That is the best excuse she has for why she is so rough on herself for having contributed to him being let free, stupid as that is.

This is the world she never wants to come back to. That she does not want to attempt to save in order to fix her mistake. She would rather stay home and throw a pity party than try and fight The Collector. Does she at least try to stop her friends? Try to save them from what appears to be certain doom for them, especially when by the time the way home is open, the world by all means could be gone. The Collector could have the Titan's Corpse be tap dancing for all they know due to how powerful he appears to be. No.

She barely decides in time to tell them she's not coming. Not that she gets to tell them but her reasoning? It's just that she might make it worse. Somehow make things worse than an entire world at the mercy of a homicidal child. And again, that's not exaggeration or hyperbole. By all we see, how it framed, how it is presented and how it is reacted to, The Collector just planned to murder them all in the skull playing tag. It doesn't matter if he doesn't know what death is, that is what he was going to do.

And this would be BAD by itself. Abhorrent and behavior that I don't think any person should ever even consider doing, let alone someone who claims to really be thinking about the consequences of their actions right now despite also deciding to make decisions all on her own while admitting she makes things worse by making decisions on her own. However, once on the Isles, it gets worse. She sees this totalitarian regime where people are literally puppets or terrified for their lives as roaming stars go around randomly turning people into puppets while The Collector uses the Isles as his stage. It's not as bad as it could have been but it's bad. It's very, VERY bad. No one here is going to be happy by the end of things unless someone does something. So what is Luz's plan? In public she says THEY'RE there to save the Isles which is true for her friends.

In private, to her mom, who is the only person who knows what she planned to do, she admits she plans to see if Eda and King are safe and then leave. Her friends' families? The people she knew but weren't close to? Just the basic fact that she has to look over the desecrated 'home' she once had that is clearly in need of repair? No. None of that matters. She's not here for them. She's just going to try and see if the people she cares about are safe, or better put the people she thinks were put in the worst positions due to her, and then leave. Simple as that.

She still planned to let it all burn and not to try to fix a damn thing, even as she told people, to their face, she was there to save the Isles and help them. In that moment, Luz betrays everyone. Period. She tells them all of their lives don't matter and that this is too much work. Because do you want to know how you fix a mistake? You learn from it, you try to set it right, and you do better.

You do not leave it to other people, let alone when you admit it ruined their entire lives. You especially don't do that when it is the easiest choice you could possibly make in the situation. At that point, you are a selfish monster who has shown yourself to not care about others and Luz doubled down on that fact.

This is why I say Luz left a world to die. Because she did. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[strawbstixe]

sugar, butter, flour

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 3.2k (wooo!)

𝙖/𝙣: this is a cute little au where han works at a bakery with chan! (i recommend listening to "what's inside" from the musical waitress while listening to this- it really sets the mood) the intro is kinda long- im soooorrry! i love exposition...

𝙩/𝙬: slight pinning, minsung is briefly mentioned!

𝒍𝒆𝒆: han

𝙡𝙚𝙧: chan

It was all muscle memory now, and Chan had known him for so long that he knew better than to trust him with the actual baking of the pastries. He was more of a "smile and wave" worker, the personality hire, if you will. Usually, Han would be up by the register, absentmindedly pressing and poking at buttons whenever there was a free moment. But now that the bakery was so empty, he had the opportunity to poke at buttons that were even more fun: Chan's. Well, not really. Han didn't mean to, at least. 

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐! ⋆୨୧⋆

Honestly, he was just trying to do his job. He was on dough duty, balling his fist into the mint green flour bowl before gently swiping his hands together. He'd take another handful, dusting the countertop lightly with flour, watching serenely as it settled on the parchment paper like freshly fallen snow. 

It was, quite literally, impossible for Han to screw this up. The scent of vanilla and butter wafted around him as he pulled the clear bowl of freshly made cookie dough Chan had made from the mini-fridge. 

It was simple enough. These cookies were preordered for some kid's birthday- or...something- Han wasn't really paying attention when the woman ordered. He just knew that she wanted star-shaped, vanilla sugar cookies with buttermilk yellow royal icing piped on top. 

This should've been quick and easy; Han had done so many cookies like this that he could practically do it in his sleep now. But...something had been off about him lately. 

Being forgetful and lost in the clouds was par for the course for Jisung. But recently, he had become even more scatterbrained: his mind always...preoccupied.  

It was his fault. 

It had all started a month ago. Han was doing what he usually did, booping random numbers on the cash register, humming a non-existent tune. 

His ears would perk up at the sound of the little bells Chan had tied to the doorframe, and when his eyes would follow, he'd be met with a man with a long coat and turtleneck, his ears red from the cold. 

It was all over for him. 

Jisung would catch himself constantly daydreaming, making fake scenarios in his head about stupid couple-y stuff. It didn't help that this guy had an amazing sense of humor- he'd come in frequently, always ordering something sweet with the most obscene messages on it. 

Han's current favorite was the "Fuck off, asshole" cake he requested a few weeks ago, and he wished he could thank him for giving him an excuse to force Chan to pipe profanities in fancy calligraphy on a cake. He'd never forget the face he made. It made his year. 

All he could do lately was think about him: this Lee Minho guy, whoever the hell he was, was crippling his ability to work properly. 

He hadn't even noticed his arms were moving. He failed to feel his legs moving. He didn't even realize that he was just...staring blankly at an empty counter, a plethora of star-shaped cookies sprawled out on the baking tray. How long had he been finished for? 

"Jisung?"

Now that his ears were actually working, he was able to hear an annoyed and somewhat concerned Chan calling his name for the umpteenth time.

"Are you alright, honey?" The 'concerned' part of Chan's mind was definitely the one taking over now. "The cookies are done cooking, Ji..." His tone was gentle, as if he was talking to a frightened child. "Did you hurt yourself-?"

"No!" Han would quickly say, swiftly turning around to meet the face that called out to him. "No, I'm-" He felt a little guilty that he worried Chan so much- and he intended to express that guilt, but the sight he was seeing right now distracted him. 

They were done? As in done done? That made no sense; he was literally just flouring his hands a minute ago. He didn't even remember putting the cookies into the oven. 

This was a prank, Han had decided. Chan must've decided that Han was drifting off too much, so he made a whole other batch of cookies to screw with him a little. That had to be it. 

As he pondered this theory, he'd inspect the cookies thoroughly. Looking for some sort of proof that would actually support this accusation. Maybe he was going crazy. 

Wait. 

"What the-?"

Something else caught his attention. He almost skipped past it- it was easy to since they weren't frosted yet. They all looked the same at first glance. But- he could've sworn he saw a-

Han let out a small "Uhhh..." in confusion, his head tilting to the left as he leaned in to get a closer look. "...Hyung? Did you make this?" 

Six heart-shaped cookies lay peacefully in the center of all the star-shaped cookies, making their own star with their formation. 

"Make what?" Chan would muse from his frosting corner, piping a dainty little birthday cake with blue buttercream. "The cookies?" He'd answer his own question after a few beats of silence. "Of course not, Jisungie, you're just being silly now." Chan would laugh. He'd laugh as if this was actually funny. As if Jisung wasn't losing his mind. 

"They're hearts-" Han would begin. He genuinely didn't know whether he should be impressed or concerned. If Chan was telling the truth, which it really sounded like he was, then that meant he had made these cookies, which made no sense to him. "Why are they hearts? And why aren't all of them hearts? Why is it only some of them-"

"Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something!" 

That statement was said way too teasey for Jisung not to take offense to it. "What are you trying to say?" Han would question, his arms crossing almost instinctively. "You're insinuating...something. I don't know if I like that you're doing that." 

"There's nothing to insinuate, Jisung. I'm just saying," His body language was nonchalant; a shrug and that bracket-shaped smile. However, that was the polar opposite of the tone coming out of his mouth; teasing and all-knowing. "Maybe your subconscious made those cookies so you could-"

"No!"

"Give them to someone?"

"Definitely not!" Han already didn't like where this was going. He hated the look Chan was giving him- and he hated how red his cheeks were getting at just the thought of that being the case. "That's crazy! You're crazy!" He felt the need to clarify that. "I don't even know him like that- I've only talked to him like...what? Seven times? I wouldn't make heart cookies for him- and even if I did- which, again, I didn't- I wouldn't give them to him! That's insane-"

"I never said his name, Jisung." Chan would muse as if this was some big 'gotcha' moment as if he had just caught Han with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. (He made the same face at him then, too.) "I never said his name," He'd repeat. "yet you knew immediately who I was talking about! I think that is insane." 

Oh shit. That was a pretty good 'gotcha' moment, huh? "I- that's not true. I was just- I was just inferring..." He'd mumble, his words slurring together as his eyes darted to the floor. Han knew he was as red as the food coloring on the shelf, and he hated it. He was only proving his point, he knew. And maybe, if he swallowed his pride for a minute, he'd be able to admit that Chan was sorta right on a couple of fronts, but even if he was right- that didn't mean anything. 

"I think you should give them to him." And despite the fact that the words 'I think' started that sentiment, it sounded more like a demand than a suggestion. 

"I think you should mind your business." Han would retort back, albeit the fact that it was under his breath, and he really didn't intend on Chan hearing it. 

"What was that?"

Han would choose to remain silent. 

"Han Jisung, what did you just say?" 

The words that were coming out of Chan's mouth scared the shit out of him. He couldn't really explain why; Chan's tone was playful. But in an odd way, it was threatening at the same time. Han decided to start walking back to his flour-dusted counter, attempting to forget this conversation ever happened. 

"Jisung. We spoke about your insubordination." 

Han's jaw would drop farther than he thought was humanly possible. "Insubord- this doesn't count! You're trying to meddle in my love life-!" He'd protest, whipping his head around. Was Chan actually insane? Did he actually drive him crazy?

"I told you that if something happened again, there'd be consequences." The word 'consequences' was horrifying on its own as it is, but the smirk that accompanied that word mortified him even more. 

"You can't make me ask out one of our customers-" Han would attempt to reason, failing to realize that they had already passed that point. "That has to be like- an OSHA violation- I could get you fired!" No, Han didn't really understand what OSHA was; he had just heard Chan use it a couple of times, so he hoped that slinging that word at him would help his case here. 

Much to his dismay, Chan would ignore him. He'd lurk towards him like a man- no- a monster on a mission. Han would attempt to run, only to realize he was corned by the counter he had rushed to a few seconds prior. He tried to reason out the worries in his head. What was the worst Chan could do anyway? He wouldn't hit him- that would be ridiculous. 

It felt like the universe was laughing at him because as soon as he thought that, Chan would crack his knuckles. What the fuck?! Was he actually gonna hit him?! Han waited for a fist to meet his face. No way this was happening right now. But, no fist ever came.

Chan would morph both of his hands into what could only be described as...claws. 

Oh fuck. Chan was going to do something worse.

"NO!" Han would scream once the realization hit. "You can't- you cannot- don't you dare!" He'd hold his hands out as a makeshift shield in an attempt to protect himself as he sunk to the floor against the counter. Chan would only inch closer.

"This is cruel! And- and unruly- you can't! I'll quit! I'll- I'll sue-!

An embarrassing loud screech would escape his lips as soon as Chan reached him, cackles immediately ripping from his throat as soon as he felt nails scratching at his sides. 

"You're not going to quit," Chan would say as if that was the important takeaway he got from Han's (not so convincing) plea. "And you're certainly not going to sue; that would just be silly." Chan couldn't even get that part of the sentiment out with a straight face, his words laced with his own chuckles.

"STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT!" Han would attempt to dance his way out of Chan's grasp, but it was no use. If he jerked right, Chan's hands would go right. If he jerked left, Chan's hands would follow suit yet again. 

“AGH! SOMEOHOHONE," It was embarrassing how hard it was for him to breathe- especially considering Chan hadn't even been tickling him for thirty seconds yet. "SOMEONE IHIHIS GOHONNA SEEHEHEHEHEE!"

"No one is going to see, Jisung- No one is even here to see." Chan would tsk with a shake of his head. He'd notice Han's gasps for air, so he'd attempt to move spots, walking his fingers up his sides and to his ribs. "Better?"

"Nohohohoo!!" Han would whimper through his snickers. "Ihihihit stihihill- AHAHAahaack!!" Han would only get halfway through his giggle-ridden sentence before feeling a sharp taze between his ribs. "Dohohon't dohoho thahahat! Pleheheheaseee, hyuhungg!"

"Aww, how cute." And, despite the teasey nature, those words did seem genuine. "Does it really tickle that much? I'm barely even touching you!" Now the genuine nature was gone. He was just being cruel, Han decided. 

"Nohoho mohohore! Plehehease, hyuhung- pleheheheheeease! I've hahahad enohough!!" Han would plead through his hysterical giggles, his hands swatting in every direction he could possibly think of.

"You've had enough?" Chan would question, halting momentarily as he raised his brow. "Since when was it you who decided that, hm? I don't think you've had nearly enough." 

"I hahave!" Jisung would rush to reply, the giggles still clinging to his words. "I have! I HAVE! Please, I have! I swear- I've learned my lesson- I'm sorry!" The threatening obviously didn't work, so he'd choose to switch tactics. 

"Sorry?" Chan looked confused. And amused. Han could only assume that wasn't a good sign. 

"Yes!" He'd frantically nod his head, so much so that he was almost convinced it would fall off if he went any faster. "Yes! SO sorry! I'm SO sorry, hyung, really!"

"What for?" 

What for? Shit. He hadn't thought of that. 

“For…being a bad…employee…obviously..?” It was painful. He really didn’t intend it to come out as unsure as it did- it literally sounded like he was asking Chan if that was the right answer. He was so screwed. 

“Honestly,” Chan would begin, and although his tone sounded positive, his smirk said otherwise. “I didn’t want an apology to begin with. So you’re okay on that front.” 

Han let out a sigh, the biggest sigh he ever had. “Oh, thank god. So we’re good? Does that-“ 

“Oh, no.” 

What?

“I’m still going to tickle you. I’m not done. I’m just saying I don’t need- or really want an apology. That’s not what I’m looking for.” 

And before he could even react, his arms were pulled high above his head, pinning him against the counter. His eyes would widen in horror, his mouth opening to spit out the quickest and most frantic pleas his body could muster. 

“N-No! NO- please- I mean it! Whatever I did to upset you, I swear! I’ll- I’ll never do it agAHAHAHAIN-!” Those pleas were quickly interrupted by his own voice cracking, cut through by his laughter.

“STAHAHAHAHA! I CAHAHAHANT- I cahahahahan’t!” Han’s head would toss back as he tried to muster all of his energy, tugging on his own arms like his life depended on it. Thank god it didn’t because his arms weren’t going anywhere. 

Chan really was just being cruel now. With one hand being occupied with Jisung’s two hands, he’d use his free one to spider his fingers around his armpit, watching as Han screeched and cackled.

“PLEHEHEHEHASE!” Han screamed, as if Chan hearing him was part of the problem. “PLEEEHEHEHEASE! WHAAHAHAT- WHAHAHAHAT DOHO YOHOU WAHAHAHAHANT FROHOM MEHEHEHEHEEE??” He could admit, that was kind of a stupid question. He already knew. He could only hope that he was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t. 

“I want you to listen to your head.” Chan would hum, now gently swirling his finger around and around. “And your heart. You have nothing to lose here! I want you to take a chance.” 

Chan would still his fingers. Han would pant, sucking in a big breath of air. They’d stare at each other as if they were having a silent staring contest; the loser had to speak first. Chan would blink. 

“Well?” 

Han didn’t have the heart, or really the energy, to respond. His eyes would remain glued to the floor. 

“Are you going to do that?” Chan would ask. “…Or…have I been too easy on you?” 

Oh fuck. 

“H-Hyung…” Han would whimper, noticing Chan removing his hands from his arms. He’d slam them down immediately, shrinking into himself. “I…” He was scared. 

“It’s…it’s scary, Hyung…” 

“What is?” Chan would respond quickly, his face laced with concern. Oh god. Had he gone too far? That was never his intention. “The tickling? Hannie, I’m so sorry-“

Han would cut him off. “No. Not- not that,” he’d flush; he didn’t even think that would be possible at this point- he was already bright red. “Talking to him, Hyung. I…” Han didn’t want to get choked up. It was stupid. It made no sense. “…I don’t want him to laugh at me. I don’t want him to think I’m weird-“ 

“Oh, Hannie…” 

Before he knew it, his face was getting cupped. He’d stare ahead at Chan, being met with a sympathetic smile. “You are not weird. And even if you were…so what? That’s part of your charm.” His words were genuine, he could tell. 

“You think I’m charming?” That question was meant to come out more jokey than it actually did. He didn’t know why he sounded so shocked. 

“I do, yes.” Chan would chuckle. He thought that question was adorable. “I think he does too. My baking isn’t that good, Jisung. Something-“ He’d clear his throat, playfully shaking his head. “Sorry. Someone else has to be motivating him to come here so often.” 

“…And you think it’s me?” Han didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t want to feel that horrible feeling: looking forward to something, raising his expectations- just for them to be crushed right in front of his face. 

“I know it’s you, Jisung.” 

But when Chan spoke like that, with such conviction and confidence…how could he not believe him? Maybe Chan had actually noticed something he hadn’t, and it wasn’t like him to do something to maliciously hurt him. He wouldn’t be telling him this if he didn’t believe it. 

And as if on cue, those cute little bells tied to the door frame would chime. Han would freeze for a moment, staring at Chan like a deer in the headlights, and the “Hello?” that was called from the register in that familiar voice didn’t help things. 

Oh shit. He had spent this whole time laughing- now the heart cookies weren’t even ready. He’d look to Chan frantically, searching for answers. Luckily for him, Chan already seemed to have a plan- as he normally did. 

“Go!” He’d whisper, beginning to usher Han away. “Go talk to him! I’ll finish up the cookies. I’ll set an alarm on the oven- when it starts ringing, come back here and get the cookies.” He’d explain, grabbing a piping bag. “You know what to do then.” 

Han would nod, quickly stomping his way to the curtain separating the kitchen and the registers. But, before he could step out, he’d hesitate. 

“Hyung?” 

“Yes?” Chan would respond, already focused on the cookies in front of him. 

Han would look over his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his face. “Thank you…in advance. You know…in the case you actually are right.” 

“Of course, Jisung. Good luck.” 

Chan would watch in satisfaction as Han opened and exited out the curtain, relieved as he heard him start his normal “Hi! What can I getcha’?” spiel. He’d do great, he knew. 

Chan would put down the piping bag after a few minutes, setting the timer on the oven to two minutes. He’d spend those two minutes taking the original cookie dough batter, untouched, out of its hiding place: one of the lower shelves on the counter. The last thing he wanted to do was waste good batter! 

He’d put the clear bowl in the mini-fridge, shutting it quickly as the timer beeped. He’d grin as Han did as he was previously told to do: he’d rush in, quickly finding the small plate of six heart-shaped cookies frosted in pretty pink and red buttercream. He’d turn to Chan, giving him a quick nod and a mouthed “Thank you!” before rushing back out with the cookies in hand. 

All Chan could do was smile. He prayed this would go well. Everything had so far, at least. Besides, he knew it better than anyone else could: 

If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.  

omg omg omg!!! first fic DONE! this is a liiiittle late, so im sorry!! it just wasn’t done cooking yet! (hehe!) i hope you guys like it 🥹

[ghoularaki]

you ddon't have to do this at all but I wanted to ask for villain Deku hc/scenarios because I really love your fic "the lonely district"

i am so sorry this took forever and i'm so glad you liked it!!

tw: yandere! midoriya, stalking

first off, midoriya did not mean to go missing the day bakugou was attacked by the slime monster. it was pure coincidence. after being completely and utterly humiliated after being rejected by all might, he frankly lost all his will to live.

standing on the edge of a building just as bakugou told him to, he really contemplated ending it then and there. from a distance he watched to world move on without him. no one would miss him if he was go besides his mother and maybe you, but you had kacchan so you'll be okay.

just as he was about to end it all, a voice called out to him.

"you hate them too, huh?"

turning around he saw a boy a few years old than him, eyes and neck covered in scars. his scratchy voice beckoned him like a siren call. "you hate how the heroes and all their stupid worshippers never get their just desserts."

usually midoriya would refute. he loved heroes, he loved quirks, but for once in his life he voiced his deepest, darkest thoughts. "yeah i do."

then and there shigaraki made a deal with midoriya, join him and his cause and they can reap the benefits of the new society they create, devoid of heroes and were villains get their comeuppance. he introduced midoriya to afo and told him about his... situation. ever the benevolent man, afo offered midoriya a quirk as long as he stood by shigaraki.

midoriya rapidly agreed. he would honestly agree to anything to get a quirk—liking shigaraki was a bonus. so afo handed him a very simple quirk, a subtle one so midoriya could stay under the radar.

he was gifted heightened senses. his hearing was decibels beyond a human's capabilities. he could see farther and in the dark, he could smell something from miles away. he could almost taste the chemical makeup of anything he consumed. he was stronger and faster than ever before. and most importantly his intuition had developed so much he could predict anyone's movements. people became mere chess boards pieces, only able to move in certain spots.

as he gained his power and developed it until it was his own through painstaking trial and error, he sulked in the shadows never once leaving bakugou and most importantly, you.

he watched you closely as you slowly lost your mind from his disappearance. he watched outside your window the first couple of weeks as you did anything you could to find him. if only you knew he was right outside. you watched you blossom into the hero you are today.

his glowing eyes saw it all. how you forced yourself into the darkness over and over. shrouded in fear, vomit pouring from your lips as you tried to control your quirk. how you strived to become a hero so you could be strong enough one day to save people like him and bakugou.

it was admirable, but sickeningly naive. as the months passed, he grew to hate you too.

so when the league of villains first attacked, he relentlessly targeted you. the hope in your eyes quickly diminishing into confusion, he drank it up. you never once fought him, you ran away any chance you could. you refused to fight him. at first he took it as an insult. do you see him as weak? not good enough to give the time of day now. but he soon realized, no, you were the weak one.

as bakugou swooped in to save the day, he let him. he would get his revenge soon enough.

midoriya didn't really care when the league dissolved and he was left on his own. after a while he didn't care for afo's plans anymore. all he wanted was bakugo and you.

the years truly made him grow fonder. he didn't check on bakugou as much as he did you. midoriya knew to be weary of the man. he wasn't as rash as he was as children. his intuition could be compared to his and it set him on edge. bakugou was to perceptive for his own good.

but you, oh sweet you. you hadn't changed much. you still carried that naivety to you. despite all you had gone through, you still saw the best in everyone especially bakugou. for some reason you two never once left each other, like two binary stars, chaotically swirling around until the one would eventually consume the other.

in private, you two would be attached to the hip, but oddly any time you were put on missions together it was like dogs and cats fighting. for once, midoriya would see that feisty side you never showed him.

since he was on the run, dipping in and out of areas to avoid being sent to tartarus, he frequented your apartment. you were rarely home. so on difficult days when he knew you weren't home, he would crash on your mattress.

he knew you feared him. it wasn't hard to tell with how you actively avoided any area he was spotted in and actively dreaded having to check it out with bakugou. but it almost seemed you didn't want to find him, not out of fear for yourself, but for him.

though the glimpses he got of you and not being able to touch you started to get to him. he couldn't take it anymore. he longed for since you were children, and though the love had no longer been pure, he didn't care.

he would destroy you until you were his and he wouldn't mind taking bakugou along with you.

[actual-changeling]

i'm mentally playing around with the good omens worldbuilding and i can't stop thinking about them not being able to heal their own corporations/bodies.

they're not entirely human, their occult/ethereal essence shapes and changes it, so what if when it does get injured they can't miracle it away or fix it? like the paintball stain on aziraphale's coat just that he isn't trying to get crowley to do it for him, crowley has to do it for him because he can't.

we see aziraphale heal anathema's broken arm after she hit the bentley the car accident, and i imagine it would be a little like that.

aziraphale breaks his wrist in some stupid way, like falling from a ladder while putting books away or stumbling, the kinda thing that has him trying to deal with it alone out of embarrassment. however, they have plans the day after, and crowley comes by with a bottle of wine and immediately notices something is off (hard not to with the way he is pressing his arm against his chest).

cue to crowley sitting him down on the couch in the backroom, and they're very, very close together. aziraphale is having trouble holding still because crowley is kneeling in front of him, no glasses, all open care and concern, and it's killing him.

"angel, if you don't-" "i told you, my dear, it's fine."

the look he gives him in response is entirely unimpressed, and he gently pokes his wrist and says nothing when aziraphale flinches in pain.

"right, fine, it's broken, just fix it. please."

every single time aziraphale says 'please' it's a silver bullet to his heart, eating away at him from the inside out; he would have done it no matter what, yet he can't tear his gaze away from the plea in his eyes. a soft blush spreads across his face, and it's too close to a confession for comfort, so crowley finally blinks and focuses on the fracture in his bones.

fixing it is simple, one cleanly aimed thought and a careful caress of his palm less than an inch above the skin, and the bones knit themselves back together without complaint. when the pain bleeds away, the tension in aziraphale's shoulders does, too.

"thank you."

"don't," he answers, more reflex than real bite, and they realise at the same time that with the miracle done, they're holding hands now. crowley savours the few seconds it takes aziraphale to pull away as if he's been burned, face turning away, and he expected it, he really did, but it still stings. he gets up and resists the urge to put his sunglasses back on, locating the bottle of wine he had abandoned rather quickly.

"right then, do you want to-"

"stay."

neither of them needs to breathe, and yet the air in the room stills in trembling expectation, confused.

"i- i meant- let me get the glasses."

crowley does not move (or breathe. or blink. or think), simply watches as aziraphale hurries away, tasting the disappointment bitter and familiar on his tongue but swallowing it before it can spill. expectations are never a good idea, causing pain neither of them can miracle away, and the undying optimism living in his chest is a curse aziraphale's blessings are powerless against.

he turns, ready to sink into his usual spot and drink the uninvited thoughts away, when a tentative touch makes him freeze once more. aziraphale's fingers are curled around his, their hands pressed together with enough plausible deniability to allow the squeeze he gives him to linger.

they're standing in the middle of the bookshop, holding hands, and crowley tastes the unspoken gratitude in the air between them, stronger than the sour heartbreak could ever be.

it rips a whispered angel out of his throat, more exhale than word, and maybe if one of them was a little bit more courageous, if the world was a little bit less dangerous for the two of them, aziraphale would have leaned over and left a kiss on his cheek before hurrying away.

maybe crowley would have pressed his fingertips to the lingering mark and blushed the same shade of rosé the bottle he had brought carried.

maybe the rest of the evening would have felt... different, saturated with all the confessions they cannot make, not yet.

maybe the next time aziraphale needed crowley for a healing miracle, the thank you was accepted without comment.

maybe if you believe in it enough, in one universe or another it did happen like that.

perhaps even in this one.

[blue-slxt]

Two Can Play - Chapter 3

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: I know I said I'd post this later tonight, but I have the time to get it up now so here it is! This part is my personal favorite of the story. I appreciate all the support and all the love! Huge shoutout to @pandorxxx for inspiring this story. Check out her Search & Rescue series if you haven't already. Hope you guys enjoy! The rest of the chapters will continue updating on Fridays. All characters are aged up.

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Explicit Smut, P in V, Oral (M and F), Fingering, Squirting, Creampie, Overstimulation, Mentions of Panic Attacks, I think that's all

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Somebody loses the bet.

Things are pretty quiet for you for the following day. Lo’ak hadn’t made any big moves and neither did you. The two of you still carried on with your playful, flirty banter, but it didn’t exhaust you the way it used to. Instead, you found yourself walking away from them wanting more. You had to give credit where it was due, Lo’ak didn’t show many signs of losing any time soon. If you were being honest with yourself, you couldn’t say the same about you. Ever since that night that he came to check on you, your body longed for that safe feeling again. A safety that you now missed when he wasn’t around. And at night when your mind would wander and your fingers would find their way under your loincloth and slipping between your slick covered folds, it would be Lo’ak’s face and voice and touch that you would imagine.

This had to be some kind of joke Eywa was pulling on you. After all this time, all these men, the one that you long for is the one you’ve refused at every turn? Ridiculous. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from subconsciously scanning every crowd you were in for his face.

Ako noticed it way before you did and she never lets you hear the end of it.

“You obviously like him and he likes you too so you should just forget the stupid bet and be together finally!” she’d say.

It wasn’t that simple. Even though it sounded stupid and petty, you had too much pride. You weren’t ready to give in just yet. He had to cave first. You had to hear him say it. But it wasn’t simply pride that held you back. Underneath the pride, there lived fear. Fear of baring your soul to someone and being met with harsh rejection. Fear of abandonment. There was no way you’d be able to recover if you confessed how you felt to him and he tossed you aside like all the others. Listening to it now, you cringe at your own hypocrisy. You had rejected so many that desired that emotional connection with you and you didn’t give them a second thought. Why do you of all people deserve grace? You don’t really feel like you do. So, you opt to keep your feelings to yourself where they’re safe.

“Hellooo? You there?” Lo’ak waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your thoughts. You came back to reality where you sat sharpening arrows. Ako wasn’t with you today. There was too much that needed to be done for both of you to partner up like you usually do.

“Sorry, I was zoning out. What’s up?” you look up at him relaxing in his presence.

“I wanted to give you something.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to show you a small bracelet with beads woven through the middle of the material.

“Oh, it’s so pretty”, you take it from his hands and admire the way the colors of the beads seem to shift in the sunlight.

“That’s not all, the beads actually spin, see?” he demonstrates twirling one of the beads around the thread with his fingers. “I made it because I thought it might help you, you know when you get scared or something.”

Your breathing stills for a moment. You look at him in disbelief. He made something specifically for you and he had taken your needs into consideration. He had actually put thought into this seemingly simple little accessory. And that made it all the more precious.

“Here, I’ll secure it for you” he holds your wrist while he ties the small band around you. Once it’s tightly fastened, he takes your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles back and forth. “Meet me at the pond after eclipse?” he asks you lowly, almost as if it was a secret.

Your cheeks get warm, but you do your best to suppress the color from actually reaching your face. You just nod at him unable to locate words in your brain right now.

He smirks and kisses your hand before he stands and leaves. If your face wasn’t flushed already, it definitely was by now.

Shit, he’s good.

…

For the rest of the day, you unintentionally count down the hours until eclipse. You also mindlessly fidget with the little trinket on your wrist.

You shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. This is Lo’ak we’re talking about. Who knows how many other girls he’s pulled this same stunt with. This whole thing is probably some elaborate set up to try and get you to break. Not happening. You couldn’t and wouldn’t lost this bet. However, that does nothing to help calm your pounding heart.

You try to keep your expectations low for the encounter as you make your way towards the pond. A lot of people knew about the pond, but most people never bothered to come because it was so out of the way.

You spot Lo’ak’s figure perched on a large rock looking out at the water. His ears flick in your direction hearing your footsteps getting closer. He turns and hops down to greet you, “Hey, you made it.” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world”, you say only half-joking. You truly couldn’t pass up this opportunity to be alone with him. “So, what is this? Your favorite hook up spot?” you’re teasing, but in the back of your mind, you want to prod him and try to figure out what this was. You stayed on high alert. As carefree as Lo’ak seemed, he still let on very little about himself.

He laughs lowly to himself shaking his head, “No, nothing like that. I usually come out here alone, actually.”

Was that the truth? Or was it a play? It’s hard to tell. If it is a play, he’s playing it well because you believe him.

“I come here a lot when I need to clear my head. I thought we could spend some time and just…talk.”

You’re cautious. You give him a skeptical look. He laughs grabbing your wrists and walking backwards into the water with you, “Just come float with me, woman. Trust me.”

You relent and follow him into the water until you’re both about up to your chests. You let your body go and float on your back. The gentle ripples and waves from Lo’ak’s movement make your body flow with the water.

For the longest time, you both just float together in comfortable silence. Occasionally, one of you would rotate the other way or you’d float farther away and gently wave your arms to bring you back to your spot next to the other. You had to admit, you could see why he would come here. It feels like the whole forest is still and quiet from right here. A perfect little oasis.

Lo’ak is the one to break the silence, “So…heights not really your thing, huh?”

You breathe a big sigh halfway embarrassed that he found out your secret, “Yup.”

“Do you uh, panic like that a lot?” his tone is soft, he’s not trying to pry too much too fast, but he wants to know more.

Your eyes focus on the night sky catching shooting stars, “Not a lot. Not anymore.” You’re getting into dangerous emotional territory, and yet you can’t seem to do anything to pull yourself out of it. You almost don’t want to.

“You ever had one?” this time, you’re the one to ask him.

“Nope.” His answer is short and simple.

Your immediate reaction is to scoff a bit, “Consider yourself lucky.”

He angles his head to look at you, “What does it feel like?”

You keep your eyes forward on the sky, “It’s suffocating. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t get enough air in my lungs. And my body shakes terribly. And it’s almost like I’m not living in my body anymore, but I’m watching my body move on its own without me. It’s terrifying. I pray you never know that kind of terror.”

A single tear falls from the corner of your eye and runs into the water surrounding your face.

He simply hums a response and lets your words sink in. They’re heavy on his heart thinking about how many nights you had suffered through one of those episodes without anyone to pull you out. Another long stretch of silence falls on you.

“Can I say something that’s probably stupid?” Lo’ak speaks up next to you.

“Sure.” You wouldn’t judge him for whatever he says. Not right now.

Lo’ak brings his body down from the surface of the water and he walks over to you to look you in the face directly. Now, you move your gaze from the sky to his eyes staring down at your still floating figure and his expression is serious. You mimic his actions and stand in front of him to give him your full attention.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night” his hands carefully hold your face, “and…I really want to kiss you again.”

His words knock the air out of you.

His thumb traces the bottom of your parted lips, “Can I?” His eyes bounce between your eyes and your lips waiting for your permission.

Words. Words. Use your words! “Mhm” you squeak out. Smooth.

He chuckles to himself before tenderly pressing his lips to yours. It’s different from the last time you kissed. The last time was so desperate and rushed from the high emotional intensity of the moment. But now, this one was sweet, genuine, and dare you say, loving?

His hands rest innocently on your waist pulling you closer to him. Your hands rest on top of his arms and you let yourself just have this. Have this moment of bliss where nothing else exists to muddy your joy.

It’s as if every move of his lips against yours chips away at the carefully crafted guard you had up this whole time. He pulls away still holding your face and just admires your features under the dim light of the night sky.

“Would it ruin the moment if I said that I want more?” Your words are barely a whisper and your eyes drop to watch the regular up and down movement of his chest. Looking at his face right now is too scary. You couldn’t take it if you saw the rejection write itself across his expression.

He bends slightly to bring his face down to yours and you’re met with a softness you’ve never seen in him before. “Of course not, sevin.” He brings his lips back to you.

In one simple, but fatal move, he’s completely broken your resolve. You couldn’t hold back your want for him anymore. And you didn’t want to hold back. You wanted to lose yourself in him in this moment. Your arms snake around his neck to pull him even closer against you. You wish your bodies would just meld together right now.

“Lo’ak…I want you.” Words you thought you’d never utter.

Clearly, he thought so too from the way he’s looking at you. “Are you sure?”

You nod at him pushing away your nerves. He flashes you his sharp canines when he smiles and your heart flutters in your chest. He kisses you again and lets his hands slide down to your thighs and lift you up around his waist. You automatically lock your legs around him and let him carry you over to the ground and lay you down on the soft moss that glowed under your body weight. His lips dip from your face to your neck leaving kisses and licks and nips all up one side, down the middle, and up the other side. His lips kiss the spot just below your right ear and you unintentionally let out a moan.

Lo’ak pulls back to look at your face with wide eyes and you can’t help how your face burns.

“Is that your spot?” he coos at you clearly pleased with the sound you just made.

You open your mouth to respond, but his tongue finds its way in before words have a chance to leave. His grip on your body is bruising, but you lean more into it. “I want to hear it again.” He says breathily between kisses before he attacks your sweet spot again.

Almost no one ever finds your most sensitive spot and it pushes your mind more into the haze of hormones growing in your head. He rolls his hips into yours and you can feel him getting hard. You try to wiggle yourself out of your loincloth and it makes Lo’ak laugh against your skin.

“Patience, sevin. We have all night…and I want to take my time with you.” His voice is low and husky and it sends ripples of desire through your body.

His hands push your top up and expose your nipples that stiffen from the cool night air. He gropes and massages one while he latches on to the other. Your breaths come out in heavy pants. He uses his free hand to untie your loincloth and finally give your pussy the attention it’s been missing. He groans feeling how easily his fingers slide between your folds.

Right now, Lo’ak was struggling to maintain his own patience. He wanted to feel you and make you scream his name. But he also wanted to savor you and properly worship every part of your perfect body. But he’s losing his grip under the painful throbbing of his own neglected dick. But he would make sure you got yours first. He was nothing if not a giver.

He sinks his head down between your legs and wastes no time lapping up all your free-flowing juices. “Fuck, so sweet” he mutters to himself. Your back bows off the ground and your head falls back feeling how his tongue perfectly swipes against your clit. You can’t remember the last time someone ate you out this good. Actually, you don’t think anyone ever has. It’s truly mind blowing.

Your hands grab hold of his braids to give you leverage to roll your hips more into his face. He moans and hums while sucking on your clit and the vibrations push you closer and closer to the edge.

“Ah…s-shit Lo’ak, I’m close” you whine chasing that growing tension in your core. Without saying a word, Lo’ak drives two of his fingers inside of you and pushes against the spongey part of your walls. Your eyes shoot open in shock. The pleasure is consuming you. “W-wait, wait Lo’ak! If you d-do that…” he ignores your words and continues delivering you perfectly placed thrusts and licks. A tidal wave of release washes over you and squirts straight out from between your legs. It gets all over Lo’ak’s arm and face and chest and he takes it all in, catching every drop he can get.

Your body convulses as he continues eating you through your orgasm and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess writhing in your own pleasure.

When Lo’ak finally detaches from you, his pupils are blown wide just like your own. He can’t hold back anymore. He undoes his own loincloth finally freeing himself. His size was incredible. Just how thick it was made your breath get caught in your throat.

He hovers over you kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his mouth. You can’t take the waiting. You reach down between your bodies and line his tip up with your drenched pussy.

With how wet you are, it takes little to no force for him to push the tip in. When he does, you jump at the feeling. The stretch was unlike anything you’d ever felt. It’s almost painful, but you wanted this too badly to back out now. He keeps pushing slowly.

“F-fuck! So big”

“Shh I know, just a little bit more. You’re taking it so well.” He whispers in your ear.

Tears prick your eyes by the time he finally bottoms out. He pauses while your body learns his size and shape, but he also just needs a minute to focus on not cumming inside of you right off the bat.

He slowly pulls back and pushes back in watching your reaction for any sign of discomfort. He finds none as the pain is quickly replaced with just want.

“Faster” you breath out. That was all the confirmation he needed. He pulls almost completely out of you and slams back in full force.

“Ah! Lo’ak…” you moan out at his thrusts.

“Oh fuck, never stop saying my name” he says with his face buried in your neck. His nose buried his smell into your skin. He was scenting you, but you couldn’t care less right now. Both of you were losing yourself. Years of built-up sexual tension and frustration was finally being released all at once and flooding any and every sense either of you had.

“Lo’ak…haah Lo’ak…Lo’ak!” You chant his name like it’s the air you need to breathe.

His pace gets faster. “Mmh, shit. You’re so fucking perfect.” He says between kissing your neck and your spot below your ear.

You’ve never experienced anything like this before. No one has ever known your body so well. He’s driving you insane. “D-don’t stop. Ha-ah! Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t. Fuck, I want this forever” he groans feeling the way your walls hug him just right.

“It’s yours. Ah! Fuck, it’s all yours! Lo’ak!” You were never the type to say that kind of thing or fully give yourself to someone. But if it meant having this feeling for the rest of your life, you would gladly give all of you to Lo’ak right here, right now.

“Let go for me tíyawn. I want it.” His words make your toes curl. You can feel it building again.

“Shit Lo’ak, I’m gonna cum again!” your head feels delirious as your second orgasm takes you.

The force of your walls contracting sucks him in even deeper until his tip is shoving into your cervix. “Shit, me too.” He says through gritted teeth. He’s about to pull out of you until you hold him against you. “Don’t”, you plead.

“B-but—”

“Please Lo’ak…need… need to feel you”, your words are little more than pathetic mewls right now.

You’re breaking one of your own biggest rules, but you can’t find it in you to care. All that mattered was prolonging this high you were on. And your womb literally ached with desire for him.

Lo’ak bites his own lip unable to hold off his own orgasm any longer. He lets go inside of you and paints your walls totally white. The warmth that spreads through your body makes your eyes roll back. There’s that feeling. That complete, full feeling you’ve been searching for this whole time. That perfect fit. It’s right here.

It flips something in your mind. It speaks in barely-there whispers to the deepest, most primal part of your brain, your most carnal desires. And you let yourself succumb to its influence.

Lo’ak keeps his face hidden in your neck while he struggles to find his breath. Before he can finish composing himself and pull out of you, you use your full body weight to flip him over so that you’re sitting on top of him.

His eyes are wide being caught off guard. The look in your eyes is completely feral. Your pupils have basically overtaken any kind of color your eyes originally had.

You all but rip your top off of your body, “I need it again, Lo’ak.”

He laughs a little nervously, “Yawne, we literally just finished.”

“But I need more. I need you to fill me again. Pleeeeaaaase. I need it.” You’ve already started moving your hips on top of him. You can feel him getting hard again inside of you.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me…but I need you Lo’ak. I’ll do whatever you want, just please give it to me again.” You keep bouncing up and down trying to milk more out of him. “Shit.” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up into you on their own. “If you keep doing that, you can have whatever you want.”

…

The two for you were there for hours. It was like there was an itch deep inside your head and he was the only one that could scratch it. You had never been so satisfied yet starved at the same time. No matter how many orgasms he crashed you into or how many times he filled you to the brim with his seed, you still wanted more. It was like a drug. There was no such thing as ‘enough’. At least not for you. You weren’t so sure you could say the same for poor Lo’ak who had become putty at some point after his 4th orgasm. Or was it his 5th? You had lost count a long time ago between your 6th and 7th orgasm.

“Yawne…I don’t h-have anymore…”, he whimpers under your touch.

“Shhh…just one more, baby, please…just one…”, you beg before sliding your tongue up his length. The mere fact that he could stay hard even after all of this was amazing. It just drove you to keep going. And the sounds he made from the overstimulation caressed your ears and sent shockwaves down your spine. You suck on his tip and he sucks in a sharp breath letting his head fall back. You bob your head up and down on him trying to coax just one last orgasm out of him. Just one more hit.

“F-fuck…I can’t…” his words come out broken.

“Yes, you can, baby…just one more for me. You said, ‘whatever I want’, right?” you take him back into your mouth swirling your tongue around the head slowly and over the slit.

“Hng…s-shit”

You can tell from how his dick twitches in your mouth that he’s about to give you what you want. You push your head all the way down so that his tip is in your throat and that throws Lo’ak over the edge. His cum spurts sporadically into your throat. You greedily swallow it all feeling that euphoria again. When he’s done, you finally have mercy and release him.

His body falls limp against the moss beneath you and he fights just to stay conscious.

You bring your face to hover just above his, “Told you that you couldn’t keep up with me.” You peck his nose and lay your head on his chest.

It shakes when he laughs breathlessly, “Alright, I’ll admit it, you are a mad woman. I didn’t expect you to be so insatiable.”

“I’m normally not, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” You laugh.

The fog is finally lifting from your mind and a question appears in your head.

“Hey, so earlier when we were…ya know…and you said that you ‘want this’…what did you mean?” the question is tentative as it leaves your mouth.

He rests a hand on your back rubbing small circles with his fingers, “Just what I said.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his response, “But like specifically what did you mean?”

He sits up to face you, “I mean that I want this. Fuck the bet, I want you. I want to be with you. I want to fall asleep with you, wake up to you, comfort you, laugh with you, hold your hand, kiss your lips, talk to you for hours, fuck you for hours, and everything else in between. Is that specific enough for you?”

There was no hiding the big, goofy grin that spread across your face.

“So does that sound okay to you?” his eyes are gentle even though he’s more than a little tired. There’s not a single hint of deception in his words or his demeanor. This is normally the part where you’d cut and run, but instead, you want to run to him.

“Yea, I guess that sounds okay to me”, you say kissing him again.

He pulls away first, “Easy, I’m still recovering” he gestures down to his dick that was finally given the opportunity to rest.

You playfully smack his arm before rising to your feet, “Come on, let’s wash up and go to bed. It’s the middle of the night. You can come stay at my place for the night…if you want.” You’re still hesitant since this whole situation is uncharted territory for you. You never let your hookups stay the night with you.

“Sounds perfect” he stands and kisses your forehead and heads towards the water.

You bite your lip smiling while you watch him walk into the pond.

“Fuck the bet”, you whisper to yourself before following him in.

[eclipsethemagic]

Ch.6- Kiss me

Summary: Jimin and you work on a project together but something so simple makes Jimin spiral.

Paring: Jimin xf!female reader ( African American)

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst

warning: none

[m.list] prev

"Jimin?"

Jimin looks up from his notes. you stand there, a pink cotton sweater that looks big on you. black skinny jeans that hug your curves wonderfully, but Jimin isn't looking at that, no he's looking at how you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yes?" he says and puts his pencil down. you let out a little smile before speaking. "I just wanted to know if you were still down to come to my house for the project?" Oh. Jimin forgot about that stupid project, but he couldn't tell her no. "Yeah just text me the address then I'll be over after school." She gives him a nod and walks back to her seat.

Jimin sits in the car for a while. Not knowing if he should go to his crush's house. He was surprised that Yoongi let him drive his car, knowing that this was Yoongi's baby. But then again Jungkook was Yoongi's baby when he wanted him to be. Turning off the car Jimin grabs his bookbag from the front seat and gets out of the car. Yoongi's car keys are in his front hoodie pocket he walks up to your driveway and up to your door. For being the golden child your parents had it all. The house was big, bigger than his. A reddish brown front door with a beautiful flowerbed was in the front of the house, and three long outside couches in the front made Jimin feel a little bit better. He finally knocks on the door and puts his hands in his jacket waiting for you to open the door.

Your neighborhood wasn't bad, it was the neighborhood where if not all but most Korean kids lived. It was a rich neighborhood that had nice streets and rolls of houses and houses. You unlock the door smiling up at Jimin, his breath caught in his throat when he looks at you. This was different than what you had on before, or what he has never seen you wear. Black shorts and a big white sweatshirt that had some English letters across your chest. Your hair was different too, curly wet, and down showing off the black hair that he loved so much. "Oh! I'm sorry Jimin, come in please." he could never let go of how cute your voice was, no matter how hard it was he always told himself that he wouldn't let the cuteness from your voice knock him into a horny kick.

"Thank You." He mumbles and goes in stepping inside. He takes his shoes off and walks down the hall. The house had a french vanilla smell that remind him of a lot of home, the floors were shiny with dark wood and had a fresh lemon smell that he could smell right away. She leads him to the living room which looked more expensive than his life, the couch was brown, large and soft, a coffee table in the middle of the floor, and a flat screen tv that was in the corner of the room. "We can start in here, do you want something to drink?"

"Yeah, just water." You nod and leave the living room, Jimin sets his bookbag down and looks around. There were family photos everywhere, more of you than your parents. He sits down on the couch waiting for you. You do come back after a while with an ice-cold water bottle and a bowl of popcorn you found. Jimin and you get started on work, not really talking much. which he kind of liked, flipping a page Jimin writes stuff down and looks up letting out a sigh. "Y/N? do you like Korea?" It was random, yes but he had to ask something, anything to stop the silence. "Hmm it's something different, yes but I'm learning to get used to it." You respond to him and he nods. "I can see why, I mean I been living here my whole life but I would like to..be able to move, maybe like China?" Jimin starts to ramble after that and to his surprise, you don't stop him. Maybe it was his anxiety talking, so he felt like he had to just say anything, but it was better than doing nothing.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have nice handwriting?" You ask him, as you look over at his paper. Jimin looks at you, his head tilts. Has anyone ever told him? He isn't sure, I mean he didn't think his handwriting was good, if anything it looked normal. His handwriting was fine, it was a mixed between Jungkook's and his mother's so he really didn't think anything of it. But if you like it, then he can deal with it. "No," he clears his throat. "No one has ever told me my handwriting was nice, I mean if anything your handwriting is wonderful." You smile at that, and move your hair to the side. Jimin eyes catch on the little flower tattoo that's behind your ear, he never seen it before mostly because your hair was always covering your neck but it was pretty.

After a while it was time for Jimin to go, finishing up the bit of notes he did have with you he starts to pack up his stuff. He can feel your eyes on him as you watch him pack up, he's bad at conversations, as you can tell, but from talking to you and learning you more from just watching he can tell you aren't too good either. But being with you he never felt awkward. "I enjoyed my time today, even though we didn't talk much. It still was fun." She smiles a pretty bright like smile that makes Jimin heart warm. He smiles back, zipping up his book bag and putting it on his back. You follow him to the door unlocking it, and open the door. Jimin doesn't say a word, actually he's afraid to speak. The sweet vanilla perfume is intoxicating. It makes his head spin, clouding his brain but you keep staring at him. Your dark brown eyes staring back at his and he can't tell your thoughts.

"Jimin?" He hears you say. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, his hands feel clammy, sweaty. You repeat it again, this time putting your hand on the strap of his book bag. Now he looks at you, before he can even say a word you put your lips on his.

You're lips are soft, slightly chapped but soft. His heart starts to beat, fast and he doesn't even know what's real anymore. But it's not long, one simple peck and you pull away. And like that, Jimin leaves, you shut the door and that's it. He wants to say that, he should be happy. The girl of his dreams just kissed him on his lips, he should be happy. But he's not.

Actually all the nerves he did have meeting you, being by him, being alone with you. Went out the window when your lips fell on his. As Jimin walks to Yoongi's car he has no thoughts. He puts his bookbag in the passenger seat, he turns it on, and starts driving. Once he hits the highway, it hits him.

The sadness.

The sadness fills his heart and his eyes start to water. And he doesn't know why. That was Jimin daily challenge. He can be happy, if the sun is out and the bees are buzzing Jimin is happy. But maybe this time, it's not cloudy, it's sunny, but he's afraid. He's afraid that you'll see him different. It wasn't like he kissed you, you kissed him. You put your lips on his, you smiled and  told him you'll see him at school. But to Jimin? His heart is telling him that you aren't happy. That you'll hate him. Who would have thought, you kissing him would sent him into a spiral.

"How was the project thing go today?" Mrs Kim ask during dinner. The boys were quiet, which would make sense considering it was only Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin. But today, they didn't say a word. Taehyung ate his chicken as he played a game on his phone, Jungkook played with his peas and Jimin? Well, he just shrugged. He hasn't touched his food really. He wasn't hungry. That's what he kept telling his mother when she called him down for dinner. He couldn't bear eating after crying his lungs out in the car, and he felt sick to his stomach and she wanted him to answer how the stupid project went?  Oh Jimin was going to cry right then and there.

"Mama?" Jimin starts, he set his fork down and looks at her. "Why am I sad? She kissed me and I'm sad..why?" Jungkook dropped his fork looking at his brother. His doe brown eyes are widen and he looks at his other brother who looks the same. "What you mean she kissed you? YALL KISSED?" Taehyung voice gets louder and his mother tells him to hush. "Son? I think that's great she kissed you, and it's okay to feel sad, do you know why you feel sad?" Jimin shakes his head, he doesn't know. He was trying to figure it out all day and he couldn't put his finger on it. "You don't know?" "No." She hums, looking at him and gives him a small smile. "It's okay. Your emotions all over the place and that's completely normal for someone you liked very very much." It didn't feel normal to Jimin. He felt like the word was crashing on him and his mother was telling him that it was normal? That's when the anger started to rise, his nails dig into his palms. "So I'm just fucking obsessed? I'm stupid? I'm not emotionally stable, why would she want to date a person like me?"

"Jimin."

"No! Fuck this." He gets up from the table and runs upstairs to his room. His door slams and his mother just sighs. She leans back into the wooden chair running her fingers through her hair. "Mom? Is that normal?" Taehyung ask looking at her. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to answer either. She knows it's not, but she wanted Jimin to know it was normal for him. Crying was normal, the confusion was normal, but the obsession? She didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't. Yoongi did, and she shut it down. She actually told him to shut the fuck up, because it wasn't him that was picking up the pieces, it was her. Bless is little heart though, he tried to make up for it by buying Jimin his favorite ice cream. She chuckles at the memory, and she looks at her middle child. "For normal people like us? No. For Jimin? Yes. See your brother has his depression mood swings, he can be anxious, and he can be happy. I think today Jimin was just confused and that confusion cause him to feel like something wasn't right. And that okay. I hope that one day Jimin understands that he's different, but him being different isn't bad." It was a simple answer. A answer she gave him that was way easier for him to understand.

Jungkook understood it though. If his other brother didn't, he did. Because he knows how it feels to feel alone, to feel like you're a burden. Because besides Yoongi, Jimin and him had many talks about his emotions, his thoughts, and his obsession with you. He gets it though. You're beautiful, you're outgoing, but you're also quiet. And that's what attracted Jimin to you. It might have been confusing at first but Jimin came around. So Jungkook hopes that this time around, Jimin doesn't beat himself up about it. Because a kiss might be a kiss, but to Jungkook? The kiss was a sign that maybe Jimin does have his fairytale ending he deserves.

[navnae]

Eddie sat on one of the benches that was near the wall at the skating rink and watched the group have a good time. He felt like such an outcast by not being able to enjoy himself even though they’ve been nothing but nice to him and they never excluded him out of anything. Eddie kept pushing his own self away to avoid getting to comfortable, there was a lot of things that they didn’t know about him. One of those things would probably turn them away and highlight the fact that he’s more of an outcast than he already thought he was, that wasn’t a risk that he was quite ready to take yet. Eddie’s thoughts had consumed him for awhile before he could notice someone walking towards him, a pair of shoes came into his vision making him look up at the person. Luckily for him it was just a familiar face and not someone from school that had a bone to pick with him. Steve stood in front of him with a hand in his pocket then the other combing through his hair as he looked at Eddie with a smile on his face. Eddie just watched in awe like he was watching a movie on the big screen, he’d never imagine a moment where Steve would be so comfortable to be around and even go out of his way to spend time with him. It made him feel things that he couldn’t explain… well he could but he’d rather keep that to himself for obvious reasons.

“Why the long face?” Steve asked as he took a seat beside Eddie on the bench. He didn’t even flinch when his knee touched Eddie’s while Eddie was freaking out on the inside just by a simple knee rub. Steve kept his eyes on Eddie while waiting for some kind of response that he couldn’t conjure up fast enough without sounding stupid.

“Just thinking, I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong in this group and I’m just waiting for the moment for everyone to realize it.” Eddie admitted. He kept his eyes on his lap while he fiddled with the rings on his fingers. Steve took a deep breath as he processed Eddie’s words then he started to laugh lightly. Eddie looked at him with a confused expression because he didn’t know what was funny.

“Believe it or not I actually get what you mean.” Steve laughed even louder when he saw Eddie’s face. The idea of Steve feeling like he didn’t belong made Eddie think he was in an alternate universe or something.

“You? Steve Harrington think that you don’t belong? Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. Everyone fucking loves you dude no matter how you want to sugarcoat it. You fit wherever the wind takes you and it’s honestly like a gift when you really think about it. I’m kind of envious if that wasn’t obvious enough.” Eddie said a little too much than what he intended to but he didn’t feel like he was wrong. Steve had the world in his hands everywhere he went and obviously that was something Eddie was jealous of. The way he maneuvered through life so easily just made all the pieces of him being perfect fall right into place, like it always has.

Eddie didn’t realize how heavy the silence was between them until he looked over at Steve and his smile had faded completely. Maybe Eddie was being a little too blunt for his own good, when an apology was on the tip of his tongue Steve spoke up.

“I think you got me all wrong Munson,” Steve said in between a chuckle. “It may look like I fit everywhere I go because at a young I was taught to adapt to any environment but that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle too. Imagine being surrounded by geniuses 24/7 and god forbid you ask a question or you’ll get ridiculed the whole day.”

“You go through that?” Eddie asked softly. Steve nodded his as he looked at the group skate and they were all laughing like a big happy family. Eddie could see a little bit of sadness come over Steve, it was sad that no one knew that he felt this way especially when he had a friend group like this.

“Yeah, sometimes it can be overwhelming at times but I just take it and move on. Is it the healthiest thing to do? Not exactly, I’m still trying to hang in there though.” Steve turned his attention away from the group then looked at Eddie with a smile. God was really trying to kill him with making Steve look this good and being this open with him, whatever feelings he had for the other man definitely wasn’t going away any time soon.

“I guess it was easier for me to paint you as this guy who doesn’t feel things and you’re perfectly fine with it. That was a shitty assumption, guess we really don’t know each other that well.” Eddie joked. Both of them started laughing and it felt like the world lit up around them. Eddie didn’t feel like he was a weight on the group anymore. Steve bit his lip when he turned towards the skating rink then back to Eddie.

“How about we change that?” Steve said before standing up. Eddie looked up at him with furrowed brows.

“What?” Eddie didn’t know what had gotten into Steve but now he was a lot more smiley than before.

“Let’s get to know each other, the first thing we can do is skate together. There’s no harm in that.” Steve suggested. Immediately Eddie started shaking his head.

“No no no. Me and skates don’t go together at all. If i go out there and skate everyone’s day will be ruined.” Eddie tried protesting but he couldn’t do much of it since Steve grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him onto his feet.

“Come on, if anything happens I’ll be right there.” Steve reassured Eddie that everything was going to be okay and surprisingly Eddie genuinely felt like Steve was helping him feel comfortable despite what he said earlier.

Steve and Eddie approached the counter and asked for skates in their size. They walked back over to the bench that they sat on prior to put on their skates. In the process of that the kids were yelling at them and telling them to hurry up, neither of them realized that they spent so much time talking instead of doing the actual activity that was required. After they laughed at the kids they went ahead and put on their skates. Steve slipped into his easily while Eddie struggled to get his foot in, before he could even consider giving up Steve took the skate out of his hand then patted his leg.

“Put your foot up. I know how to make these slid on easier.” Steve said it so casually that Eddie just knew he was fucking with him because he couldn’t be serious about this.

“Have you lost your mind?” Eddie earned a laugh out of Steve but he was actually being serious.

“Munson, I’m just trying to make the process go smoothly that’s all.” Steve shrugged as he waved the skate around playfully. Eddie rolled his eyes thinking that the universe was playing out his fantasies and he didn’t like it in the slightest. At first he was hesitant then he finally lifted his foot and placed it gently on Steve’s thigh. Steve smiled widely as he took Eddie’s foot and slid it on swiftly, he even tied it for him in a cute little bunny style. He asked for the other foot then repeated the same routine. Eddie blushed throughout the entire process and tried to hide it with his hand covering the side of his face but he knows Steve noticed. The skates were snug on Eddie’s feet after Steve put them in and now they were ready to skate.

“Thanks.” Eddie said softly. Steve nodded his head with a smile on his face before standing up, he didn’t lose balance even when he was standing in roller skates.

“You’re welcome. Let’s start skating shall we?” Steve held out his hand for Eddie to take, of course it was innocent but Eddie refused to blush anymore than he already was. He pushed Steve’s hand away and attempted to stand up until his skates started rolling uncontrollably. Eddie was so close to falling on the floor then a strong hand held him upright by his waist. Steve slowly made it to where Eddie could stand on his own, They locked eyes for a second before Eddie looked away.

“I got it.” Eddie breathed, his heart was beating like crazy in his chest and it wasn’t because of the possibility of falling on his ass. Steve raised both of his hands and took a step back so Eddie could make his way to the rink.

The process of getting off the floor to the rink was the slowest thing that any human being could ever witness. The kids helped him into the floor but completely abandoned them when their job was done. Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle helped balance each other as they skated. Eddie huffed at the sight of everyone having someone to lean on while he took his time to actually start moving. The moment he lifted his foot to push himself forward Eddie instantly started stumbling backwards, he braced himself for the impact of the ground but he was met with the feeling of a body and arms wrapping around his waist basically catching him. The chuckle near his ear confirmed who the person was, Steve held him close.

“I got you.” Steve whispered in Eddie’s ear lowly. Eddie felt like his entire world was spiraling out of control. If he died this would be a good way to go in his book, his stomach was filled with butterflies and he couldn’t control the way his body was heating up.

“Fuck.” Eddie mumbled feeling his cheeks getting hot. Maybe he imagined it but he could’ve sworn that Steve smirked in the middle of their whole interaction before they started skating for real this time.

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 5)

(Trigger warning for more vampire vs ghost fighting, general brain fog, Shawn convinced he's hallucinating/has brain damage, Shawn turning into a vampire and all the anguish that entails.)

“I need you, Shawn! You can’t leave me alone! Wake UP!”

It’s the first anything Shawn is aware of. Before he can feel his own body, hear anything around him, before he can see.

He hears Gus, begging and distraught, and it pulls Shawn back to the world.

It takes a couple of tries, but he opens his eyes. His vision is blurry, and he must have brain damage, because even as it clears up he sees not only Gus bent over him sobbing, but his grandma. 

Who died when he was three.

“Oh my god, Shawn!” Gus doesn’t even bother to wipe his face, just pulls Shawn up into a hug- but pushes Shawn away just as fast. “Don’t even think about drinking my blood while I’m rescuing you right now.”

“Wh… wha?” Shawn’s voice cracks and scrapes against his throat. He’s parched. Dry like a desert, or his own dating life for all of highschool. “Wha’ th’ hell…”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. And I’m pretty sure Lassie and Jules are wiping the floor with the vampires.”

“... Wha?” Shawn tries to sit up, to figure out where he is and what is going on and why everything is numb but all he manages to do is turn his head a little. That’s not a good sign. Something bad happened to him.

His vision swims just from that simple movement, and when it refocuses he’s not sure it actually does. Lassie is driving a shard of wood into the chest of some nondescript person (Popsicle, he thinks, though he can’t make the connection why) as Jules fights like a woman possessed against… someone Shawn would put money on as being a lawyer, or some other equally extremely desk-bound job.

When he looks at her, some of the numbness goes away- because he’s suddenly very aware of his neck exploding with pain. He wants to scream, to thrash, to fall back into that Nothingness where pain didn’t exist and neither did he- but all he manages is a weak moan.

“Just hang on a little longer.” Gus loops his arms under Shawn’s armpits and, with great grunts and puffs of effort, stands just enough to begin dragging Shawn away somewhere.

And then a hand grabs onto Shawn’s leg. It should feel cold, Shawn’s mind supplies for reasons he can’t pinpoint. The hand doesn’t feel any colder than he does, though. … But now that he thinks about it, he is cold. Very cold. But he’s not shivering. Tick that next to the possible head trauma in the list of Very Bad Things To Wake Up To.

“I’m not dying without killing you and your stupid mouth,” a gruff voice growls (Gramv- he nicknamed these people at some point. This is an investigation, then?). Gramv yanks on Shawn’s leg, easily pulling him out of Gus’s grasp.

Bad guy. Right, he’s in danger, this man is trying to kill him, he’s barely able to move, Lassie and Jules are busy and Gus just almost got his arms dislocated and the rest of the people in the room can’t possibly be real because they’re dead. His vision is still not a hundred percent, but he zeros in on a candle by Gramv’s hand and his own leg.

He barely manages to twitch his leg, but it’s enough. The candle tips over and the burning wick catches the sleeve of Gramv’s robe, and apparently it’s a very flammable material because he lights up quicker than a clue at a crime scene.

“Heh.” Shawn wishes he could make a pun, but even if he could speak at the moment, he still can’t really think. It’s a sludgy, foggy, all-around unclear mess in his skull. He’s not used to it, and if he had a clearer head he’s be panicking over not having a clear head. There’s a word for that. He can’t remember it right now.

Gus grabs him again and drags him somewhere deep within the maze (oh, he recognizes this maze, that could be good or bad, but is probably both). Shawn watches Lassie and Jules fade into the stacks of useless forgotten whatever, and begins to nod off again. Then Gus props him up against one of the stacks and lightly taps Shawn’s face to wake him back up.

“I need you to try and stand. I can’t carry a grown-ass man up the world’s most unsafe stairs all by myself.”

“St’nd.” Still can’t get out full words without slurring them- he definitely has brain damage. What happened to him? “Yea.” Shawn tries to push himself up, but his arms collapse under him within seconds. He starts to tip to the side, and Gus has to reach out and steady him. “I don’... f-feel…”

“Okay. Okay, we can do this. I can do this. How many times have you gone boneles son me? It was all leading up to this.” Gus bounces on his heels while he hypes himself up. “Burton Guster, you are about to carry your best friend up these stairs.”

Gus slings one of Shawn’s arms over his shoulder, and manages to stand and support Shawn’s entire weight without any help from Shawn himself. He feels like a bundle of wet noodles, but knitted together to be really dense and heavy, and way too overcooked, just absolutely inedible. 

… He’s hungry.

“G’s…”

“Just a little longer. Oh gosh… okay, we can do this.”

Someone else is supporting Shawn’s weight too.

“I’ve got him, Gus. I’ve got you, sweetie. Let’s get going.”

His grandma who isn’t real because she’s dead and Gus have to basically drag him up the stairs. Feeling starts to return to his legs as they go up, little by little, with each smack of his shins and ankles against the wooden slats pretending to be steps. 

Feeling is returning everywhere. He almost wishes it wasn’t.

He is in serious pain.

His neck is the worst of it- it feels raw, dug at, deep and tender and he can’t even begin to imagine what a wound that feels like this must look like. He’s a little surprised Gus hasn’t passed out or thrown up at the sight, because it must be gruesome.

Almost as bad is his stomach. No, wait, it might be worse- his evaluation is shifting as awareness slowly trickles in. … Yes, his stomach is worse, though not by much. It burns. His stomach, his guts in general, they burn. They twist and ache and stab and he can picture them shredding each other apart inside of him, little claws and teeth on his spleen or whatever else is down there, he doesn’t know, he just knows it hurts.

“Gus,” he gasps out. Okay, full word, not slurred, maybe his head will be okay after all. “I-I don’t feel-” He grits his teeth. Good? No, it’s deeper than that. He doesn’t feel… “Right.”

“I know.” Is it that visible? It must be. His neck probably looks like Spam what a feral cat got into, if the way it feels is any reliable indicator. Gus gives Shawn’s arm a squeeze. They’re slowly moving down a hallway now- his grandma disappeared sometime between the top of the stairs and this halfway hallway point. That’s another good sign for the brain damage clearing up, or at least he hopes it is. “It’s just a little farther to the car.”

Something in him twists. It ties itself up in a knot, and then instead of unrevelling itself it cuts, splits apart and the pain is like a shockwave, ripping through his entire body starting in his guts moving out and settling most in his head and his mouth and god he’s parched and hungry and it’s all he can think about as he stumbles and falls out of Gus’s hold and the whole thing leaves his ear ringing and his heartbeat hammering in his…

… Skull…

… That’s not…

His…

Heartbeat…

Gus’s arm is under him again, but everything is a blur. A hazy, quickly-moving blur, because all he can take in is that heartbeat.

It’s racing, pounding, the heartbeat of someone in deep distress, and Shawn doesn’t know why but it’s amazing. It’s his favorite sound in the world, thumping against the inside of his skull and mixing with the shockwaves of pain, rippling out from his head into his body and his limbs and it feels good.

He doesn’t realize they’re at Lassie’s car until Gus is shoving him into the backseat and buckling him in. He would laugh, but it comes out a wheeze. Gus leans over into his space to buckle him in, and Shawn can’t sto staring at his neck. Smooth, soft skin, and his vision highlights the pulse…

“Do you taste as buttery as you look?” He feels consciousness starting to slip again- no, not consciousness. Awareness. They’re different, somehow. 

“What?” Gus is only half listening, and Shawn needs to look away because staring at Gus’s neck is starting to make the pain worse, especially in his mouth…

He doesn’t have as much control over his head as he’d like, and it lolls, and Gus makes a choked gagging noise as the part of Shawn’s neck that hurts the most stretches out. There it is. That’s familiar. That’s good. Now he needs… he needs…

Gus is rooting around in Lassie’s glove compartment and that box-armrest-thing between the two front seats. Shawn can see his head, and his neck again, and he thinks his mouth would be watering if there was any water in his body. No, that’s not right, if he was that dry he’d be dead. Is he dead? If so then Gus is dead, that’s no good. Gus has a lot of life to live, and a way more productive one then Shawn’s will ever be, Shawn’s sure of it.

“I better not be dead so you’re not dead,” he mumbles as Gus comes back to the back door with a packet of wet wipes. “You don’t deserve to be dead.”

“What? Shawn, you’re talking nonsense.” Gus takes a deep breath, gags one more time, then swallows it and tilts Shawn’s head to he can clean Shawn’s neck. Clean it? Right, the wound. Probably blood.

Blood. He groans as his insides go to war, burning and twisting and tearing and dying and- and- and something else-

“Gus.” He paws at Gus’s shirt, pathetic and weak. “Gus, I’m hungry.”

Gus’s eyes widen, and Shawn sees panic- why? Gus swallows and keeps cleaning, but he’s shaking twice as bad now. “I already told you you better not. I will slap you, Shawn. Don’t think I won’t.”

Shawn laughs a little, and this time it actually comes out a laugh.

It hurts.

Gus’s pulse is highlighted again. The racing heartbeat is back in the forefront of Shawn’s mind. His mouth burns.

There’s a hand on his. Not Gus’s. It’s there and it’s not, and he’s felt it a lot of times since he woke up, and he’s still pretty sure it’s a symptom. But Gus is done cleaning, so Shawn turns his head to se ehis grandma, holding his hand.

“Focus on me, Shawn. Focus on me. You’re going to get through this without any of your friends getting hurt, okay?”

“Okay.” But what is this? He still isn’t sure. He still can’t remember. All he knows is he woke up and there was fighting and crying and pain and if his grandma is here he’s probably dead and so Gus is dead, he is, but that’s not fair because Gus shouldn’t ever be dead, Gus should never die and live forever-

“Stop that.” Her voice is sharp and firm- it sounds almost like his dad. It jolts him into a bit more awareness than he’s had since the hallway. “Don’t go down that thoughtpath. No more new vampires tonight.”

That… doesn’t… track. … But neither does his grandma being here. “What do you mean…”

She sighs, and then looks up and nods. “Look, your other friends are here.”

He turns his head to look past Gus, still kneeling by him and looking him over like Shawn might disappear at any moment. He’s not going anywhere though- he can’t even if he wanted to. Lassie and Jules, though, they can move. They run out of the front door of the creepiest, most horror-movie-worthy mansion in all of Santa Barbara covered in blood and dirt and ash, pouring sweat and the blood smells bad. Rotten. It makes Shawn angry, for some reason, until two more rhythms join the one already pounding in his ears. Their heartbeats. He wishes he was more sound of mind so he can pick apart the differences, appreciate the unique beats for his unique friends. They’re entrancing.

Gus slams Shawn’s door shut and runs around to the other side, sliding into the seat next to him. Jules and Lassie jump into their seats, and almost as soon as Lassie’s butt hits the pleather they’re peeling away at high speeds.

Shawn leans his head back, closing his eyes and listening to the three racing beats around him. His grandma’s hand is still over his. He can barely feel it.

“Is he awake?” Jules’s voice cuts through the beats, scratchy and ragged but beautiful, sweet and alluring, but if she wants to she can be overpowering and all-emcompassing and-and she’s like honey and he’s a fly and he’s so hungry.

“Kind of.” Gus’s voice is smooth, buttery as his well-cared-for-skin, rich, Gus is comfort and home and fun like a cup of hot coco and he’s so parched.

“What do you mean ‘kind of’?” Lassie’s voice is smooth too, but in a different way- more like a smooth cup of coffee, or smooth whiskey, something that should be bitter and harsh but when you appreciate it it isn’t, because Lassie is strong and steady and an assault on the senses in the best way and Shawn needs to have a taste of all of them.

“I’m starving.” His voice sounds strange- maybe he’s just not used to hearing himself so openly desperate. He’s used to feeling it, deep inside, but hearing it… based on the silence in the car, no-one else expected to hear it either.

“... How’s his neck, Guster?”

“I cleaned it up, but- oh, my god, I can’t look at it-”

“Do not throw up in this vehicle!”

“Carlton, that’s not the priority right now!”

Shawn laughs. He loves them. He loves them all so much. He wants to listen to them bicker forever. He wants to listen to their voices saying anything forever. He wants them, forever.

“Didn’t your grandmother tell you to stop that kinda thinking?” Rough, raspy, but not the way Gramv’s was- Shawn knows this voice better than any of the other hallucinations.

“Grandpa.”

“That’s right, we’re both here.” His grandpa is holding his other hand- that doesn’t make sense. The car isn’t shaped like that. He cracks his eyes open and sees his grandpa is halfway inside of the front passenger seat, sitting and leaning forward and holding his hand. Now he knows he’s hallucinating.

“He still thinks this isn’t real?”

“Be patient, dear. He’s processing a lot right now. It might not sink in for a while.”

“Right. Shawn, look out the window for me, would’ya?”

If his grandpa is a hallucination, it might be his brain trying to communicate something to itself. Shawn slowly turns his head, thunking it against the window to stare out into the nighttime sights of Santa Barbara. The glass should feel cool against his skin. It almost feels warm.

Gus had been really, really warm, now that Shawn thinks about it. Gus might have a fever. That sucks.

“Remember when you were a kid, and we’d sit on the bench and make up stories about people walking by?”

“Course. My one reprieve from dad.” His voice is still sluggish and quiet, but it’s coming back well.

“Let’s do that now, yeah? Tell me about uh… that guy there. What’s his story, you think?”

“I… I can’t… think right now, Grandpa. I’m hu-”

“I know, I know. We can eat after the game, how about it?”

“You can’t. You’re not real.”

“I’m dead, not imaginary. Indulge an old man, would you? How about… this girl. What’s her story?”

“... I… guess… she could be from anywhere, right? So… so she’s from Spain. She’s a… professional bull wrangler, for when they do the runs.”

“Good, good, I like that! And how about uh…”

“What about that fellow, with the giant hat?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He got that as a prize, for… for wrestling something big, like a… polar bear, or a whale.”

Everything begins to fade away as Shawn focuses on playing the game. He mumbles out stories, his grandparents encourage him, the heartbeats and the pain are still there but they blend into the background as his mind whirs and latches onto the task of making up stories. It becomes like a trance, a dream, and Shawn slips into it gratefully.

He’s blissfully unaware as the rest of the car have some difficult conversations.

[skylarmoon71]

Winchester - (Supernatural / Smallville Crossover AU) - Chapter 9

Back in the present, well you’re annoyed.

Right about now you’d like nothing more than to drop kick the douchebag. His appearance is by far the worst possible time. 

You were about to get it on with Clark. 

“Dick.” 

You don’t voice that. 

“How the hell did you find me?” 

That’s a more reasonable thing to say. It's not just the fact that he popped up now, but you’re still invisible to most entities. Especially angels. The only reason Gabriel and Castiel have been able to pop in is because Dean and Sam told them where you were. 

“I felt a surge of your grace. It still feels the same.” You glare. 

“Is that supposed to flatter me?” 

“I understand why you might be angry.” 

“Don’t you stand there and pretend to care about me!” 

The spark of blue in your eyes is much brighter and Clark is stunned when a bulb above his head shatters. The barn window slams shut. Your fists are clenched painfully tight. 

You hate that seeing him has such an effect. The last time you saw him you were determined to never waste another thought on him. It took about two years, but you finally succeeded. You haven’t thought about him at all in what feels like forever. 

Until now. 

Clark steps forward, standing in front of you protectively. You look up, and the look he sends you is one of understanding. You know he has no idea about your past with Michael, but he’s still there, willing to stand with you, protect you. The light slowly leaves from your eyes, body relaxing just a bit. 

Clark turns back to Michael.

“I don’t know who you are, but she doesn’t want you here.” 

Michael looks annoyed. A rare sight for someone who’s good at acting like he’s in control. 

“This doesn’t concern you Kryptonian, leave or I’ll remove you.” 

Clark takes a step forward and Michael lifts his hand. You panic, rushing in front of Clark as you lift both hands. 

“P-Please don’t hurt him!” 

It’s a gut response. While you have no problem standing up to Michael, you’re aware of how powerful he is. You can’t lose Clark, not ever. You’re holding unto him desperately, and Michael just watches you for a moment. He doesn’t make another move, at least not a threatening one. 

“Do you care about him?”

Your eyes are still hard. 

“That has nothing to do with you.” 

He has no right to ask that question. 

You're not sure what to make of the expression he’s wearing at the moment. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought he was displeased. 

“It doesn’t matter, I need you to come with me. We have something to discuss.” 

There’s nothing about that statement that you like, but you like the idea of him anywhere near Clark even less. You need to make a choice. As horrible as Michael is, you don’t get the feeling that he’s trying to hurt you. He would have done so already, he also could have just dragged you away, it wouldn’t be hard. The fact that he’s asking means he needs something that you can provide. 

There seems to be only one decision. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

“(Y/N).” 

Clark is against it, but you just send him a comforting smile. 

“Don’t worry, Michael is a douchebag, but he won’t hurt me.” 

He really has no reason to. There’s no apocalypse, no war. It’s been that way for over a while. You’re not sure why he’s back, but you feel less comforted being here with Clark’s family. You don’t want to bring them into whatever angel crap you might have to deal with. 

“Let’s go.” 

Michael nods, and the second he touches your shoulder, you’re both gone. 

Clark is left standing there, helpless. 

~

The next time your feet land, you’re in a hotel room from the looks of it.

“Really, trying to wine and dine me?” 

His expression is still neutral. He likes to act unaffected but you know that whatever this is, it’s important to him. 

“Care to tell me how you really found me, cause I’m pretty sure this wall around me works on everyone. Especially you.” 

He’s still wearing that stupid superior look on his face. 

“It was simple, I tracked your cases, it was only a matter of time before I found you. Your need to help has always been strong.”

You aren’t sure what’s more unsettling, the fact that he still has Adam as his vessel, or that he's apparently trying to give you a compliment.

“Just tell me what you want.”

The sooner you get this over with, the better, because the longer you’re around him, the faster all those memories rush back.