#(apart from hard to type emoticons)

[daughter-of-sapph0]

the sun is a painter. every morning, it casts the world in warm yellow haze. for the rest of the day, it stares at its creation, slowly viewing it at different angles. until at night it covers the world in a soft red glow, before going to sleep and doing the whole the over again tomorrow.

[moonlit-escape]

. ☠︎︎.˖⚝๋࣭⭑ֶָ֢♱ Gene Mystreet headcanons !!

my third and final favourite mystreet character. he's so silly i need to beat his ass

5'7.4 (171.2cm)

hispanic

bisexual (it runs in the family. their mom is bi too)

the eyebags aren't just bc he's has a god awful sleep schedule, they're actually hereditary (dante covers his with cucumbers and a skincare routine)

only speaks in spanish when he's losing his shit (arguing, panicking, tripped and scraped his knee on the sidewalk)

god can that boy dance

honestly just really loves cats

he went through a rough patch in uni and it sort of gave him a major wake up call as to just how he was doing and what kind of person he was and wanted to be

he, zenix, and sasha went their separate ways during uni, but tried to keep mostly in touch until eventually coming back together as roomies

god he would have just. the Worst depression meals. bro eats macaroni cheese dust in a glass with milk like it's a fucking nesquik packet. takes apart oreos and eats all the cream off, then puts pieces of ham in between them like theyre goddamn lunchable crackers. makes mayonnaise and jello sandwiches. takis and sweet relish. sasha and zenix have to make sure they come home on time and cook something before he puts whatever fucking concoction he makes into his body.

but he's actually a pretty damn good cook (when he's Not in a depressive episode)

learned to read fairly quickly, so he would always read dante to sleep

HARD gifted kid burnout like my man crashed and burned at 16

but now he's just a silly little nerd

favourite ninja turtle is donatello (mainly bc his fav color is purple)

he likes anime a lot, honestly. especially from 1990 to 2000s

plays mihoyo games. his mains are, respectively; cyno (genshin), jing yuan (hsr), and anton (zenless). This is a meta joke.

piercings,,, pirericngs,,,,, yesssss ,.

typa guy to use kaomoji and cat emoticons and send you cat videos off of youtube

the only social media he has is tumblr and reddit his punkass doesnt fw any other

he'd probably get a tattoo. maybe for his sweet girl, Apple, the poor thing

wants another cat, but he wants to give sasha and zenix no other choice but to let him take one in, so he's up Praying a stray will find him and follow him home

*opens his wallet and an entire roll of dante's baby pictures fall out* "UHM- UH- FWUH- I WAS HOLDING THESE FOR MY MOM-" dante, travis, and aph tear up on the spot

carries an epipen on his person at all times in case of emergencies. it was something he did growing up with dante, just in case the kid had something with peanuts, and it just kinda followed him into adulthood

was never that mean to travis, since he was dante's best friend, but he was never careful around him either, so

him and garroth actually end up being great friends who just spend most of their conversations gushing about mutual interests (their baby brothers, cats, video games) or sassing each other off

no wait bc why would his taste in men absolutely be himbos. (or at least just very sweet, kind-hearted people)

he calls people by specific little terms of endearment, depending on the type of response. that doesnt make sense. let me elaborate.

uses "babe" or "honey" when someone is in distress or upset ("oh, honey,,")

uses "bucko" or "buddy" when someone mouths off at him ("oookay there, buddy." "alright then, bucko.")

you get it now

the type of friend that is Always ready to back you up on your bullshit. absolutely no hesitation

he really didn't have a crush on aph, he was just a Grade A Asshole who thought it was fun to fuck with people

because he was viciously jealous of people who were capable of being happy and having good lives

not that he had a particularly awful, hard life. sure, his family had their struggles, but they were getting by. yes, he has felt like there was something deeply wrong with him that has been present within himself since even before he was born that made most people avoid him like he was on a secret list. but it was fine

he just knew that he had a sick feeling in him, and the only way he'd feel anything else was if he was a mean little asshole

some nights, it did scare him. it frightened him how bitter his tongue always tasted

and all of the time, constantly, buried beneath the feelings of hate, he felt guilt. he felt so, so much guilt. but, his only coping mechanism for when he's feeling bad is to do more bad things, and pretend he's always in the right

and, eventually, he broke. he broke down hard. now, since he's seen that his first plan to get rid of this feeling of skin-deep sin has failed, he's decided to try the other way. to atone

[stormdragon23]

Question 7 for Baek Yoonho, 3 for Yoo Jinho, 12 for Park Kyunghye and 13 for Sung Ilhwan

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like? (Baek Yoonho)

People mentioning his firefighter past. It's a rather minor detail compared to other things about Yoonho, but it's something I always like seeing, especially when people talk about his firefighting skills affecting his current actions. For example, when Yoonho can stay calm despite the chaos of a situation because he knows how to stay composed under pressure And having Yoonho rescue Jongin with his firefighting skills :3

It's also nice to see people putting Yoonho with his two best friends. They're so cute together <3

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character? (Yoo Jinho)

Oof, this one's hard. I think the biggest thing off the top of my head is that Jinwoo does not consider Jinho his friend

Jinho's contact is put under "Guild" rather than "Friends" like Haein, which always bothered me. Another thing is when Jinwoo told Haein that she was "his only friend"

Like, Jinwoo has known for so long, and Jinho has been by his side throughout all of Jinwoo's leveling up. Jinho has put up with all of Jinwoo's shenanigans and yet, Jinho isn't his friend?? Even Juhee not being Jinwoo's friend makes some sense since they're shown to have drifted apart, but Jinho only got more involved in his life

JINWOO WOKE JINHO'S FATHER UP FROM ETERNAL SLEEP LIKE HE DID HIS MOTHER WHAT DO YOU MEAN HAEIN IS HIS ONLY FRIEND-

I shall take that scene as a translation issue because it just doesn't make sense. The phone contacts scene still shows that Jinho is not exactly one of the first things on Jinwoo's mind though. He should be in "Friends" :< Especially with how he reacted to what happened to Jinho in America

Not sure if this was more about Jinwoo or Jinho, but Jinho's related to it, so it counts

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character? (Park Kyunghye)

I have quite a few for Kyunghye. Trying to think of a favorite but can't off the top of my head. I do think she's the type of person to give someone the benefit of the doubt most of the time. She would likely be like "We could give them a chance :<" Whether that works out in her favor is a different matter, but. Look at her, how could anyone with a heart deceive this face?

She's probably good at manipulating people to do what she wants too. Asks them in the sweetest voice

She would probably get along well with Choi Jong-In... Gotta make a note of that

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot? (Sung Ilhwan)

I don't think Il-Hwan would use much, but if he did, I think he would use ":D" a lot. For emojis, I think ☀️

I think it suits him :3 Especially if Ilhwan is the sun and Kyunghye is the moon

From the ask game here

[brynnterpretations]

hi! I saw you were doing ship requests for The Boys and just couldn’t help myself.

I am a mid-twenties bisexual woman. I have a degree in psychology and worked in therapy (specifically for PTSD in veterans and medical staff/first responder types) for a few years before transitioning to a marine mammal rehab and research non-profit. I have an avid love for reading, pop culture, and specifically movies. I am a huge fan of both well told stories and well made art, and I enjoy watching all sorts of movies to see both. Especially shitty action movies tbh. I also love to have a drink with friends and play games, as I am wildly competitive. Other likes include Dad Rock, dogs, and nature. Plus I love to bake.

Personality wise I would say I’m mildly stubborn, overtly loyal, and tend to be the extroverted glue that brings different friends together. I tend to be optimistic, despite having gone through Some Serious Shit™️ in my life. In fact, I would say the aforementioned shit has made me a kinder, empathetic person, but given I have lost a lot of people, I hold the people I have close, even when my gut tells me to push people away. I strive to be a good friend. I’m a hard worker, and as I consistently say to my friends, I can’t half-ass anything. If I’m gonna do something, im gonna do it all the way, which leans into the fact that I have a pretty dramatic flare.

This all feels wildly self indulgent and it’s so weird to describe yourself in a few paragraphs right? But I really appreciate you!!! Thank ya 💕💗

You sound like such an amazing person and, not to be dramatic, but the world is so lucky to have you. Thank you so much for the ship request and keep being awesome!

I ship you with...

Hughie Campbell ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @yocalio ★ (link)

You and Hughie meet in a small local record store in Washington Park. Even in the age of iPhones and streaming, Hughie is a huge CD guy, and always makes sure to stop by vinyl and music stores to stock up on some of his favorites (and stare wistfully at the guitars, but that's another story).

When he spots you over by the section of your favorite band, Hughie is thrilled; he, too, is a huge dad rock connoisseur, and it's not often he finds someone as cute as you in the CD store. Usually it's just very strange old guys who give me mean looks. So, as Hughie does, he walks over to you and very, very awkwardly starts a conversation with you ("oh, you like [band name]? That's a great pick!" queue nervous laugh).

Surprisingly, his nervousness works on you, and you two end up exchanging numbers at the end of your exchange. Hughie's a painfully earnest guy and has not mastered the art of subtlety, so it doesn't really start with any smoothness. Instead, expect a lot of cat GIFs, smiley emoticons, and general millennialness (but make it cute, and make it Hughie).

After texting you and learning about the work you do, Hughie is smitten, and invites you out on a date to volunteer at an animal shelter, because who doesn't love puppies and conversation?

Would routinely invite you to more and more dates, and as he gets to know you even more and learns small bits and pieces of your past, he falls for you hard. We all know Hughie’s been through a lot, so he greatly admires people who have, too, yet don’t let it stop them from moving forward and making a positive impact on the world.

Isn't really someone who feels the need to move slow, but is very anxious, so would ask to be formally girlfriend-boyfriend by coming to your apartment or house with flowers and a lot of tripping over his words, because oh shit, what if you say no, he'd fine with still being friends but that would be super awkward—

However... the guy won you over, and when you say yes, expect the sweetest hug.

Hughie will always send you good morning and night texts, as well as random things throughout the day that makes him think of you, like a daschund puppy he saw on the street or a t-shirt with your favorite band's logo imprinted on it.

Expect a ton of cute dates, and expect them often. He's not a very sporadic person and values your time (he knows damn well you're busy), so he'll always schedule with you in advance.

And, while he loves his cute, casual dates, also loves to treat you — you deserve it — and tries to do a big one once a month. He's definitely a roses-and-candles sort of guy, and he won't let you forget it.

Hughie and you have a similar taste in movies, so he loves marathoning with you. You two always dominate any trivia nights at the bar close to you, and have become an infamous pair there.

He always sends you songs throughout the day, especially ones that remind him of you ("Rosanna" by Toto, "You're My Home" by Billy Joel, "Head Over Heels" by Tears for Fears", etc.) and you two have a joint Spotify playlist!

Loves being the little spoon with you, and loves cuddling in general. He's not a huge PDA person — he's pretty shy, and would kiss you or hold you in front of others at most — but once you two are alone together, will be all over you (in a cute way).

Hughie is endlessly in awe of you, from your work ethic to your personality, and when he senses you're having a tough day, is not shy about reminding you of it.

Also, he's definitely the type of guy to adopt a dog with his significant other, so once that anniversary comes (and it will)... expect a puppy.

Hughie would try to hide his work with The Boys from you, and when push comes to shove, would try to dissuade you from getting involved. However, he knows you're smart, capable, and doesn't want you to think that he's hiding anything from you, so he would (albeitly reluctantly) introduce you to the boys while still trying to keep them at a healthy distance from you for your own safety.

The Boys ☻

Friends

GIF Source: @peach-coke ★ (link)

Annie is your number one fan, and your best friend in the group, due to your personality and work ethic. It's extremely hard to come by someone like you in "The Boys" universe — someone who does so much good for the world, and in spite of how the world treats them, does their best to keep giving back to it positively — and would make a point to become friends with you ASAP.

She tends to rewatch the same movies, listen to the same songs, etc. — she's a creature of habit — so she loves asking for song recommendations and going out to movies with you. She also is a big Facetime person, and would call you every other night to catch up, whether she's taking off her makeup or coming off of a crappy patrol.

Additionally, once she starts the Starlight Foundation, she would immediately try recruiting you to work hands-on due to your experience.

M.M. adores you as well. While mostly a fan of oldschool hip hop and rap, he can get down to some dad rock (the guy could probably recite Led Zep's entire discography on the spot if you asked him), and whenever you wear any band tees, you get a nod of approval from him. He's a pretty busy, but would always take time to talk to you whenever you stop by.

Frenchie and Kimiko love you — they both think you're an absolute badass. Interactions with them would be pretty limited due to Hughie not wanting you to be put in any unnecessary danger, but they always hang out with you when you stop by, and Kimiko definitely invites you over to movie nights.

Those movie nights are very fun, and cute, by the way. She makes popcorn and sets up the hideout to be as comfy as possible. The girl loves ya.

Butcher has a lot of unresolved romantic feelings for you which he pushes down because A) our boy is not a homewrecker, and B) it's always hard for him to grapple with those sorts of close, intimate emotions. He likes you for the same reasons Annie does, and your caring, hardworking nature are the best qualities he's felt he can find in a person.

But, because of this... Butcher avoids you, to the point it seems borderline rude. The guy usually will at least throw one snarky remark at any newcomers, but he won't really give anything to you but a nod of acknowledgment.

To end things on a positive note, though: you and Hughie are the happiest, sweetest couple there is in NYC, and you've got some very, very good friends on your side.

[sefsagentdump]

more oc trivia

to the dismay of literally everyone he knew, let picked money for splatoon 2's money vs. love splatfest. vee and dutch rubbed money's subsequent loss in his face. he doesn't turf now, but he did end up advocating for team love during money vs. fame vs. love

peni is the type to start cleaning when she gets mad enough.

before going off on the sea expedition, junko asked yuki to hold onto everything she could in their shared apartment. yuki followed these instructions when she moved to the square, and junko got all her old stuff back when she surfaced, including her dad's university hoodie

yuki, after splat 2 but before splat 3, embarked on a journey to find her parents. she did eventually find them, thankfully, and found them just past the splatlands. her mother makes good tea.

yuki's parents live around the same area veronika's adopted parents live.

molly, specifically, is chinese-american.

junko learned how to drive, uh, maybe two years after she ended up in the square?

emiko likes romance movies (and books) while naoki and junko prefer horror.

emiko is the type to go 'eeek!!' when she's scared by something.

yuki thinks that junko (and also vee) are cute.

peni wondered what was up with her when they first met, and she still kinda does. jet's still trying to throw her off.

i might've mentioned this before, but peni does not like hospitals.

though peni's mom is from inkadia, her dad is not. he's from what used to be europe.

naoki does not like wearing her glasses. ('they make me look silly,' she thinks.) she does wear them if she's hard at work on her computer though.

i'm debating whether i want this to be canon or not, but marie and callie got cool sunglasses themed after them as some sort of promo deal thing or whatever in the splat 1 days. marie gave naoki the marie-themed shades as a joke.

peni, dutch (and vee to an extent), jet, and veronika would all destroy somebody for hurting someone they care about (junko, naoki, yuka, and molly).

naoki will go to sleep if there's nothing else for her to do.

yuka owns the witch set that debuted in splatoon 2.

jet would absolutely listen to the white stripes.

yuka likes to use emoticons and sometimes, kaomojis.

dutch's mom is known as sunny by her friends because of how nice and happy she is.

junko's dad nicknamed her 'little tiger' because of her playfulness and energy. he still calls her it, just not as much.

billie listens to older music (like, from early 1900s ME) rather than modern music.

after her dad went on some sea trip and never came back, billie's mother was a wreck. she just didn't show it. they were both stoic from then on and almost never spoke to each other ever. billie can barely remember what her mom sounds like.

she hasn't even admitted this to herself, but one thing she wants to do other than research is see her mom again.

[deldeldel90]

THE PASTEL PRINCESSES IF THEY WERE TUMBLR USERS

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- lorena!! ksysiss ok but like!! she'd def be on tumblr whenever she needs to say smth

- has terrible grammer thats inconsistent and messy

- types in caps more than she should

- reblogs memes n pictures of cats in hats

- talks abt her family all the time, especially abt gwen

- does shitty doodles of her mutuals

- does a lot of copypastas

- has a very lowkey account, not many people know about it

- says a lot of puns (half of them don't even work)

- sometimes her posts r just "had a blye shshhie?!" and then there's whole ass essays abt the usage of camouflage

- has twenty backup accounts

- is into military history!! reblogs interesting facts abt it and adds her own lil comments

- if you're her mutual, she'll be reblogging and liking every post of yours, will give you literally all of her support

- lorena is always there to talk to somebody !! she's kinda awkward sometimes but she makes up for it by being persistent and a bit hyper when you really get her going

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- Maria! <33

- ok so she's literally a sweetheart

- big sister vibes whos always willing to give credit to others and is super chill to talk to

- has really good grammer, messes up a few times but overall, she uses commas and barely has an typos

- gets a lot of anon asks, always talks to them like they're her long lost besties, super natural n caring

- she makes her own gifs!!

- talks abt her crush sometimes

- links her pinetrest

- writes fanfics and keeps it the biggest secret of her life, her followers only know bc she makes way too many references to ao3 fics

- lowkey a fangirl ngl, will gush her heart out and makes edits and fancams

- she keeps her identity (apart from her voice) a complete secret, like, you wouldn't even know the color of her hair

- reblogs a lot of facts n pictures of birds and in her rbs, she talks abt her experiences w them

- keeps a pastel blue aesthetic to her blog

- most of her text posts are her discussing bozart and asking for advice for her singing

- is always really excited to talk to people!! has a good amount of tumblr friends and is just really nice

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- GWEN!!! gwennie gwen gwendolyn!!

- she's gen the sweetest

- like ever <333

- this girl.... she's not very open and has a hard time telling if somebody likes her but does try to be kind to everybody

- shares a lot of baking recipes nd pictures of her own baking

- is really shy

- recorded herself talking once and immediately deleted it

- will sometimes vent in a very smash keyboard way whenever she's stressed

- mostly reblogs things to do with baking but also reblogs comfort posts that makes her happy

- doesn't discuss how she looks at all

- takes pictures of moss nd overgrown and thinks they're really pretty

- uses emoticons like ^^ and :)

- has a really really close group of five or so friends she met on tumblr and really wants to message them but is too scared she's bothering them

- wet sad fluffy kitten energy

- quotes from romance books and pictures of buttered bread

- her blog is the definition of comfort <33

- reblogs pictures of a bunch of funky animals and coos over them in the tags

- if you get to know her she's really really nice and will probably want to send you baked goods

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- jamie....

- this mans blog is half chaos half reviewer

- reblogs leo's posts (because he def has a tumblr too) literally all the time, usually like "how r you texting this in jail ://"

- does food reviews literally all the time, probably has a YouTube channel too

- gets asks all the time 😭😭 answers them all on one tuesday morning out of the blue

- 6/10 grammer, no attempt to do better, internet slang makes up half of his vocabulary

- uses 'ngl' when its not needed at all

- uploads a lot of pics of food, some of his own, some of others

- talks in tags, speaks in lowercase 1/3 of the time

- this man either capalizes everything or nothing... good for him!!

- has 82 drafts and is waiting for the right moment to post em

- compares his sister's cooking/baking to everything like "hmmm this lasagna is alright but my sister, Gwennie's,...."

- is accidently aesthetic.. everything this man posts just happens to have pink in it idk

- probably uses fonts tbh

- reblogs light academia/pastel royal/literally any type of cat aestheyic posts

- uses emojis ironically

- jamie honestly is a pretty chill guy and also enjoys talking to people :) sometimes he'll just hit somebody up and be like "that pasta you made has supreme good vibes,,, care to tell the recipe??"

- uses a lot of question marks and expscmation marks

- shows his face a lot !! Along with his outfits and bracelets nd stuff

- posts about his life a lot, doesn't really care if somebody finds out this is him because he's really open abt it

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[harringrovetrashrat]

Your tags on the 'Tired of masterbating. I want to be loved.' Thing are amazing, I love them!

Thank yooooou!!!

@cockasinthebird enjoyed them too and prompted me to start on a lil something, so here’s a quick lil preview of what I’ve started.

Steve stared at the message on the screen, paused as he rewatched his live stream. Read the words once, twice, heart beating in his chest.

I’m tired of masterbating. I want to be loved. From GuiltyAsCharged, a username he recognized. A regular watcher and paying patron. Never did many comments, though on some of Steve’s filthiest videos he’d leave these emoticons that should have been dumb, but always had Steve hot under the collar. They were so sparse, it was just nice--

But that wasn’t the point. Point was, GuiltyAsCharged had some shit going on. Steve bit his lip as he pulled up his DMs, quickly typing in the guy’s username. His fingers hovered over the keys as he stared, lips pursed. He’d done it before. Talked to people who left concerning comments. It was kind of a thing for him, being very serious about mental health. Open as well. But something felt different about this time. There was something in Steve’s gut that said sending this message was going to change something, shift the waves, so to speak.

He typed out his message, and hit send.

--

Billy woke up, head pounding to the beat of his upstairs neighbors bass. He groaned, pulling a pillow over his head to muffle what could, as well as block out the sun. Billy lay there, feeling sorry for himself. His head hurt, his body hurt, his mouth tasted like shit--

Billy jerked upright, hissing in pain at the sudden light and movement. He held his pounding head in his hands, groaning even louder.

Billy had been drunk, so so so drunk, after going out with Tommy and he’d gotten home horny. Had pulled up his favorite camboy, DoeEyedKing, and gotten to it. He was hosting a live stream at the time, fucking himself open on dildo, going painfully slow. Billy had pulled out his already half hard cock and stroked, teasing the underside of the head with his thumb. He stroked in time with Doe Eye’s thrusts, breath speeding up as he jerked. Teeth scraped against his lips as his hips began to jerk up, eyes glued to the screen.

“Fuck,” Doy Eyes breathed. “I feel so full. It’s fucking amazing.” He moaned, loud and wanton, and Billy had to squeeze the base of his dick with a hiss. “God, it feels so good,” he whined. “The only way this would be better is if it was one of you. So I could feel you cum deep inside me before plugging me up.” He smirked, tongue running over his top teeth teasingly and as a challenge. This was why Billy liked him so much. He looked like a soft little pastel twink, and he definitely played that up, but the guy was nasty, bratty and cocky too. He hit all of Billy’s buttons, leaving him sweaty and gasping as he nearly stripped his cock, no longer finessing his movements, too close to the edge to care.

“Sh-Shit,” Billy hissed, hips jerking as he came, spilling into his fist as he pumped and pumped, until it hurt. He lay back, breathing hard through his mouth, heart sinking into the ground.

Billy stared at the ceiling, wishing that he wasn’t left with a sticky hand and no one next to him once again. It was what he’d been denying lately, tried to drink away tonight. The horrible, crushing feeling, that he was such an asshole, he was going to die alone. Blue eyes watered as he wiped his hand on his sweater and sat up, moving to shut his laptop when something Doe Eyes said caught his attention.

“Wow, I feel incredible, holy shit,” he panted, bright blue y-fronts stained with cum and lube. “What about you guys?” There were the usual horny for you, baby’s and wishing i was there’s, and Billy just felt compelled. Was so drunk, he felt like the best idea was to write his immediate feelings. After hitting send, he noticed he’d made a spelling mistake and had also made the weirdest comment in the fucking world.

Doe Eyes was not only hot as shit, nasty and exactly Billy’s type, he was a sweetheart. He blocked people who were being assholes, was always polite when he turned down a kink that he wasn’t into, and was always grateful and thankful, no matter what kind of scene his video was. Billy was kind of, maybe really, infatuated with him. He seemed almost too good to be true, but he was also so crazy sincere, Billy couldn’t find it in himself to doubt him.

And now he’d made a creepy, weird comment and was gonna end up blocked in the morning. He’d closed his laptop and decided to sleep at that point, forgetting until the morning what an ass he’d made of himself.

“I’m a goddamn idiot,” he rasped, voice low and husky from dehydration. He stood, stumbling to the kitchen in his small one bedroom apartment. He got some water, downing it, before pouring another glass. He sipped this one, popping some tylenol while he was at it. Billy chewed on his lip between sips, fiddling with his phone. Maybe he could apologize before Doe Eyes even saw it. Do some saving face. Try and not get himself blocked from the one person who got his dick up lately.

Billy opened his phone and felt his heart stop when he saw he had a DM from the man himself. His thoughts raced, all of them bad, and it was with a shaky thumb that he clicked, opening the message. Billy blinked when he read it.

DoeEyedKing: Hey, hope you’re doing okay, man! If you’re going through it, know that I’m rooting for you!

Billy restarted the app, just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

[toulouserr]

tag game <3

thank you for the tag @shaharizade i love u

1. Do you like answering tags?

fun fact (actually really really sad fact) this is the first time im answering tags!! but i've seen other people do it and i love talking about myself so i guess the answer is yes.

2. Do you prefer to write fanfiction, read fanfiction, create fanart, make video edits, or none of the above?

i used to have a wattpad account where i wrote hp (harry potter) fanfiction when i was 13,, it was a dark time. i currently also read tons of fanfiction when the canon of the show isn't enough for me and make fanart that will never see the eyes of another living soul.

3. Nails painted (include what color) or not?

i love this question!! right now, the nails on my left hand are white and on my right hand, they're black. i've made an effort to grow and shape my nails over the course of this year so im kinda proud bc they look so pretty now!!

4. What would your ammortentia smell like? (For those who don’t know Harry Potter, ammortentia is a love potion that smells different to each person based on what attracts them. Basically what are your favorite smells?)

these are such creative questions :") i love the smell of petrichor (such a basic answer), cinnamon, salted caramel, and mangoes!! and if it's a completely different smell i would have to say garlic bread.

5. Would you prefer to live in an extremely hot or cold climate?

definitely cold. i've said this all my life bc cold weather is just more fun :) you can snuggle up under the blanket, you can make hot chocolate, you can wear pretty sweaters!! but also i have never actually lived in a cold place so perhaps my answer will change.

6. Favorite flavor of chapstick or do you not wear any?

i wear burt's bees cherry flavored chapstick that my cousin and i bought together, it's tinted and tastes so amazing :)

7. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers?

this is such a hard question to answer but im going to have to create my own answer of a trope ive seen in like.. two books

childhood best friends that are obsessed w/each other- frenemies and constant bickering growing up- growing apart as teenagers- something brings them together, they're forced to work together and/or fake date- they fight and bicker a bunch- they grow to enjoy each other's company - it's revealed that one of them has been pining the whole time - they fall in love

9. Favorite type of weather?

rainy and gloomy!! in india we have a season called monsoon, and it's basically winter+spring with less flowers and more rain. i love it so much but i can't understand why.

10. Do you use :), :], or :D?

i use everything from :) and :D to :( and ://. emoticons are superior, emojis are for losers.

TAGS:

@aashaya @nacho08 @potatoepotahtoe <3

[novantinuum]

Crack the Paragon, Chapter 10

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 5.8K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which Steven's done with moping around and waiting for something to change.

You can find the AO3 link in the reblogs! (I have to omit them from the original post these days to ensure this will show up in the tags.) If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos on AO3 as well.

A big thank you to my friend Ganaroth for helping me with edits for this chapter!

_

Chapter 10: Beta, Part 1

Morning light filters through the loft’s window and glints off his phone screen, obscuring the selfie Connie just sent from his view. Though at some deep cognitive level Steven’s a bit annoyed at this interference, outwardly he moves on automatic with barely a feather ruffled, rolling onto his back atop the rumpled bedspread. He holds his phone above his face— right over his nose— humming as he admires the photo. She’s grinning, her long hair pinned back with clips. Her eyes shimmer with every bit of joy a smile that wide suggests. True happiness. Before he knows it he feels his cheeks lift, a smile of his own stretching across his face to mirror hers.

The rest of the photo is just as beautiful.

Beyond the railing his friend leans on is a breathtaking view of wild grasses, ferns, and delicate purple flowers, the patches of greenery half submerged in a lake of water as far as one can imagine. A large flock of birds float on the water’s surface some distance away. Behind her, the setting sun bathes the sky in streaks of orange and pink, the warmth of the ambient light kissing her brown skin. It looks like something straight out of a storybook.

Either that, or a dream. A good dream, the kind that lingers in your mind afterward like the sweet scent of wild strawberries.

oh, that’s so pretty!! he types in response, fingers flying over the keys. where is this?

Just as he hits send, though, another message from her pushes through and answers his question:

Morning!!! :DD Soooo rn we’re exploring this really cool wetlands area! Service is pretty terrible out here btw, so I probably can’t talk for a bit. Fingers crossed my texts send!

His heart grows warm as he reads her words. Even if it’s not as good as seeing her face to face, he’s still so happy they can communicate while she’s on her trip. She looks like she’s having so much fun. He wastes no time in sending a whole cluster of hearts, stars, and smiley faces back at her.

But as he watches his message deliver, the text’s bubble shifting from grey to blue, he finds that airy, bubbly feeling he got looking at Connie’s photo pulling away from him like sand and driftwood on the receding tides. Somehow, all these emoticon smiles just ring hollow right now.

Four days have passed since the disaster everyone’s come to refer to in whispers as ‘the forge incident.’ Not many, not enough for the terrifying memory of what happened down there amidst the blackened stone and fire to stop seeping into his dreams, but thankfully enough that the Gems have stopped coddling and babying him about it. (A sweet relief, that, and one of the many reasons he’s not planning on telling any of them about his recent nightmares. Goodness knows they already have enough to worry about.) Four days. That’s it. The thought of just how little time that is leaves him dizzy. Four days since he was almost shattered by someone he thought was a friend. Four days since two halves fused back into a whole, since his gem rotated to expose the facets that before, his mo... that Rose had hid from her friends… from the whole world. Four days since discovering that his pupils apparently morph into pink rimmed diamonds now whenever he taps into his powers. (And wasn’t that just another wallop to the gut for everyone, Pearl especially). Four days without Garnet, without stability, without blissful protection from the truth: that Rose wasn’t truly the quartz she claimed she was.

Steven still doesn’t understand the how or the why of that.

Truth be told, it’s not a topic he’s ready to dwell on yet.

He shifts to sit up on his bed. Somewhere on the distant shore beyond the window’s glass Amethyst is shouting, her rhythmic, guttural battle cries loud enough that they’re audible from inside the house. There’s no end to this on the radar. For the past few days she’s done nothing but seclude herself away and drill, pushing her hard light body to the brink through endless strength and agility exercises. In the light of recent difficulties no one’s addressed it with her yet, but it’s no secret this is partly related to her insecurities about Jasper.  

Meanwhile, Ruby (who finally returned home on her own yesterday morning) sits on the floor right below him, handling the controller of his Grintendo console with an iron grip that would serve as a genuine contender in Beach City’s underground arm wrestling league. He set her up on his brand new copy of Fight Fighters just an hour or so ago. As far as he knows, she’s enjoying it. It’s sorta hard to tell. She certainly hasn’t given up yet, (she’s way too stubborn for that), but it seems like the levels are difficult enough that they’re giving her a run for her money. Glancing away from his phone, he watches her fuss with the first boss fight for a moment. The Gem’s face is— if it’s possible— even redder than usual as she mashes the proper buttons for her character’s combo attack, muttering in syllables spoken too low for him to intelligibly understand.

A few minutes pass. Ruby sneaks in one solid strike, but eventually the boss overtakes her by merit of their sheer size alone, and her character is defeated. Game Over flashes on the screen in bold orange striped letters.

“Aw, phooey! You were really close that time,” he says.

Truth be told, her playing style is kinda… a huge mess, but there’s no encouraging way to say that. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie to say she got closer to beating this fight than the last time she attempted it. Maybe she’ll figure it out with a few more rounds.

Ruby drops the controller in her lap, and glances back at him. “Heh. Thanks, Steven,” she responds with a weak smile. “At least I finally got in a hit, right?”

“Yeah, you’re getting better every round! You still up for more? We can play tag team together, if you want.”

“Eh, I’m done for today. I’m no good at these kinda games. At least, not without...“

A wave of melancholy envelops her in a flash, suffocating the last glints of light within her burgundy red irises. Inhaling deeply, she lifts her gemless hand, holding it to her chest tight as she mourns what used to be. Steven doesn’t move to say anything, letting her have her silent moment. Reassurance can be nice, but as he’s learned recently, the sad truth is that sometimes not every problem can be solved with a few well-thought words.

Amethyst’s distant shouts interrupt the somber atmosphere like a jackhammer to concrete, yanking them both solidly back into reality. Ruby’s brow creases.

“Is she still at it out there?” she says, frowning as she glances at the door. “She looked exhausted when she came outta her room this morning.”

Steven frowns, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Yeah. I tried to ask if she wanted to play Topple Tower with me last night, but I’m pretty sure she was ignoring me. I hope she’s okay…”

Sighing, she slumps back against the large swath of comforter that dangles halfway off his mattress, letting her compact, coily hair smush against its surface. “Oh, she’s not. No one in this dang house is. I just wish Sapphire would come back already,” she says, voice cracking as she speaks her name. “She’s been in there for so long now.”

Prompted by her heartbroken words, he glances at the temple door across the house, seeing both Pearl and Sapphire’s gems alight on the central star. Pearl is simply taking a rest in solitude this morning, but as for the blue Gem… she hasn’t shown her face since she disappeared into her room four days ago. It’s beginning to become mighty worrying. And besides, he really misses her. They barely get a chance to hang out beyond the rare emergency. His lip juts out in a small pout.

It’s so hard to move on with life when you’re constantly being reminded of what once was.

Eventually, Ruby decides she’s had enough challenge for the morning and passes command of the controller to him. Figuring he’s got nothing better to do today, he shrugs and starts a new save file. Half an hour or so passes as he grinds through levels like a pro. Now sitting next to him, bundled like a burrito in one of his blankets, the red Gem watches his gameplay with starry eyes, enraptured. He double jabs at the D-pad to call upon a secret ability, fingers blazing across the buttons with practiced fluency. Just as he’s about to hit the finishing blow on Professor Doom, the beach house door slams open. On sheer impulse he flings the controller to free his hands, his whole body seizing upon the sound. Hard plastic clatters against the floor. The world tints pink.

Ruby jolts to attention from inside his bubble, struggling to unwind herself from the blanket's grasp. “Whoa, what’s—“

“Hey, nerds,” Amethyst mumbles, dragging herself and her uncoiled whip through the doorway. The length of the weapon drags along the floorboards like a dejected dog’s tail. Her tired, hardened pupils meet his no doubt diamond-shaped ones, shades of confusion flickering across her expression as she visibly takes note of the shimmering sphere he’s subconsciously enveloped himself in. “Geez, it’s just me.”

“I- I know,” he croaks, flushing red, “s-sorry, I know. You spooked me, ‘s all.”

She squints, and dissipates her whip. “Dude, I didn’t even do anything.”

“I know... It’s just me being dumb, sorry.”

“You’re not dumb,” Ruby reminds him with a saddened frown, placing her gem adorned hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t respond, instead taking a deep breath and willing the bubble to recede. Once it’s all but disappeared in a shimmering afterimage of hard light, he crawls across the floorboards to retrieve his poor abused controller. Joystick securely within his grip once more, his eyes drift back to his game. Seems he’s in dire health. Not only did his character lose his perfect attack window, but Dr. Doom has healed himself and continued to rail upon him while he remained idle. His heart drops.

“Awww,” he whines, deflating. “I almost had ‘im!”

The temple door slides open, causing both Steven and Ruby to snap to awareness. (For wildly differing reasons of course, but the result is the same.) Amethyst stands beyond the warp pad, about to cross the threshold into solitude once more.

Nooo, don’t leave! his heart cries in silence. You just came back!

This conversation is already the most interaction he’s gotten out of her since their waffle breakfast four days ago. Ever since, she’s hidden herself away to brood and train. He scowls, fingers shifting rhythmically on the casing of his game controller. Gosh, he’s so sick and tired of this. He’s tired of moping, of acting like they can never have a happy moment ever again just because their circumstances are different now. It’s not true. Things can get better! Heck, he’ll make it better! Somehow. Maybe. He just needs to figure out a plan, and soon… before everyone scatters to be on their own again.

Hmm, think, Steven, think think think! What makes Amethyst happy? Destroying trash? She’s been at it all morning already, probably not. Food? Wouldn’t necessarily get her out of the temple.

He eyes a green sock puppet strewn on the floor by his closet. Months-old memories rush through his mind, of wearing a cardboard box on his head, insisting amidst protests that this puppet represented the emerging Cluster.

...Peridot?

They did get along really well at Funland a few weeks back. Hmm. Y’know, that might actually work.

“Hey, Amethyst,” he calls, and sets the controller on his bedspread. She stops halfway through the doorway of her room, motionless, seemingly waiting for him to continue. It almost looks as if she wants him to give her a reason to stay outside. “You, uh- are you done training for today?”

“For now,” she answers in a low voice, rhythmically clenching and unclenching her fists.

“D’ya maybe wanna go visit Lapis and Peridot with me? Get outta the house?”

She turns, lips pursed as she deliberates in depth. After what feels like— to his antsy, impatient soul— an eternity later, she responds with a half-hearted shrug.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Steven grins. He scrambles to his feet and floats off the loft to the ground floor before she can decide otherwise. “Sweet, let’s go right now!” he says, bursting with enthusiasm. After crossing the room in a flash, he takes ahold of Amethyst’s arm and gently leads her up the steps to the warp pad, the other Gem making no obvious signs of dissent. Good. That’s a good sign. The immediate problem sorted, he glances back from whence he came. “Ruby, you want in?”

She’s still tangled within his bedding, but shifts upon mention.

“Nah, I’m good,” she says, rolling on her back under the covers so that she’s peering at them upside down. “If Sapphire finally comes out, I wanna be here for that.”

Steven nods. “Okay! Well, see ya’! We’ll be back sometime later this afternoon.”

“Probably,” Amethyst mutters, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, maybe longer, maybe not. We’ll see! Feel free to play any of my games if you wanna, okay?”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, ya’ party animal,” the quartz drones, the bite of dull sarcasm seeping into her words.

With a resounding ring the warp activates and whisks them away.

_________

The young half-Gem takes a deep lungful of air as he skips through the grassy countryside, his chest expanding to full capacity. Ah, it feels so good to be outside, and with a change of scenery, at that! He should’ve done this ages ago.

Outside of all the heartache of their recent family crisis, it’s a perfect September day; not too warm and not too blustery. The sky’s almost entirely clear, barring the faint streaks of white softening the horizon's edges. Birds chirp brazenly as they swoop with daring purpose from tree to tree. A few leaves are just beginning to flutter down from their overstuffed boughs. ‘Tis the season! Pretty soon this area will be awash with sprinkles of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. Gee, he hopes he can convince Amethyst to goof off in the woods with him again this year. They could go leaf sledding! That was the most fun he’d had in ages when they did it last time.

How is Amethyst doing, anyways?

Masking his worried frown, he glances behind. Her lips press in a sour scowl, her non-dominant hand clenched by her side. Barely a heartbeat passes as she reaches to her gem with the other, pulling her whip into existence in a glittering flash of light. Instantaneously, the crystal tips of the three-pronged flail expand into barbed spheres. She mutters to herself as she grips the handle, unsatisfied. He doesn’t understand why, though? She summoned it so fast! Like, under a second for sure. As far as he’s concerned, that’s awesome!

He watches her summon, dissipate, and re-summon her whip three times in a row before he decides it's time to intervene with her spiraling frustration.

“Hey, don’t ya’ wanna take a break from all that for a bit?” he begins with a measure of caution. “You’ve been working super hard lately!”

“I already am taking a break," she says, slashing at a few rocks strewn on the ground as they climb the last rolling hill. “That’s why I’m here with you, right?”

“Well sure, but breaks aren't supposed to be about training, they’re supposed to be about having fun. And visiting Peridot and Lapis should be tons of fun, I promise!”

Amethyst’s eyes narrow at the very thought. “Yeah, ‘cause when I think fun, I think Lapis.”

“Hmm, I wonder what they’re up to lately,” he muses out loud, hand pressed to his chin.

She lets out a dry scoff, allowing her whip to dissipate once more. “Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s just get this over with.”

He frowns. His shoulders drooping a bit at the sight of her almost hostile melancholy, he glances away.

Thankfully, in a well-timed diversion from the worries of her mental state, Lapis and Peridot’s place of settlement comes into full view as they reach the hill’s summit. Steven’s jaw falls ajar, stopping in his tracks at the sight. (Amethyst, who isn’t paying attention to where she’s walking amidst her brooding, almost rams into the back of him.)

“Whoa,” he says, drinking in the new additions. “Look what they did to the barn!”

He’s not sure ‘barn’ is an apt description for it anymore. No, no. Rather, in the weeks since he last saw Lapis and Peridot, this place has transformed into a full-out homestead.

The grain silo that stood nearby has been tilt at an angle and used to enclose the side of the barn Peridot blew a hole in with her epic giant robot. Their smaller than average lake? It’s now fitted with a ladder, along with metal piping to keep the water level high. Stretched taut between the roof of that silo and a funky hodgepodge spire they formed out of old airplane parts is a clothes line, with a number of shirts and towels hanging off it. Admiring the finer details of their set up, if a person could point at an object and conceivably call it junk, they’ve probably found a creative way to make it decorative. Rusty bicycles, old tires, couch cushions, broken deer antlers, you name it. And then that old truck he slept in every night while working on the drill? It now serves as the proud centerpiece of their little home, the cargo bed solidly affixed above the barn’s entrance. He spots the two former Homeworld Gems sitting up there with the TV, shaded from the midmorning glow with a sun bleached umbrella. Whatever they’re watching, they’re transfixed.

Grinning, he peels away from Amethyst and dashes the rest of the way, feeling the faint breeze dance between his curls. Wow wow wow, he’s seriously got like a hundred questions for them, and a hundred missed hugs to make up for!

“Hey, guys!” he calls, once he’s directly below the truck.

Lapis’s browline raises, attention nabbed. It’s enough to peel her eyes away from the television (is that Camp Pining Hearts he hears??) to meet his. A subtle but undoubtedly caring smile rushes across her face as she sprouts wings and drops from the truck’s bed to greet him.

“Steven! It's so good to see y- oof!”

He nearly barrels her over with his hug, clutching to her like a lone life raft in the midst of the open sea. Surprised and still quite rigid in her affections, her arms awkwardly move to pat his back in return. It’s a silent embrace on his part, yet simultaneously manages to say more than words alone ever could. At this point he’s not even sure words could do justice to the complex emotions that are all jumbled in his head. Only a few short weeks have passed since they hung out together. So why then does he feel like he hasn’t seen either of them in years?

“Steven, Amethyst!” Peridot chimes eagerly, dropping down from the truck and striding out into the sun. She screeches to a halt in front of them, expression pressing inwards in that uniquely inquisitive Peridot-like manner as she takes inventory of the scene before her. “Uhm… Is… everything okay?”

He pulls back from the stunned Lapis, and gently wipes at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, I’m just really, really happy to see you guys, that’s all!”

“Oh, yes! Of course. It’s only natural to miss the fulfillment of our company,” she says without missing a beat. Turning her gaze to her other visitor, the green Gem balls her hand against her chin. “Amethyst! Something looks different about you…”

She crosses her arms over the white tank top of her new form, her nose scrunching up. “Like what?”

“Have you grown taller since the last time I saw you?”

Amethyst’s eye twitches. An infinitude of silence passes, in which she shoots her a glare sharper than the edges of the crystal studs on her whip. Honestly, being on the receiving end of her weapon might’ve hurt less. Sweat beads at his brow as he watches the situation unfold, yearning with every fiber of his being for a world where he actually feels confident enough to delicately intervene instead of silently standing by as Peridot’s sense of tact veers straight off a cliff.

Behind them, Lapis saves them both and clears her throat.

“O-or… maybe I was mistaken,” the former kindergartener says lowly, flushing with shame. “My apologies.”

There’s a whisper of chill to the air enough to make him shiver as the quartz once more chooses not to respond, and shifts her gaze to her feet. She digs divots into the dirt with her toes, already disengaging from social interaction again, slipping further away with every passing birdsong from the entire purpose of this friendly visit. He presses his lips tight, masking a frown. So far, nothing is going as planned, huh? As big of a dreamer he may be, he can’t say he’s surprised. Nothing in his life has gone to plan since he accidentally slipped on that tree branch inside Lion’s mane. Still, there’s gotta be some way to save this, right?

Come on, Steven, think positive!

Before anyone can quite begin to catch on to his troubled nature, he plasters a manufactured smile on his face. “Wow, you guys are looking good!” he says cheerily. “And I love what you did to the barn!”

“Aww! I know,” she replies, regaining her grin as she glances between him and Lapis. “But wait, wait! You guys have to see the inside!”

And with this declaration, a few magical minutes pass wherein the two of them receive the highest honor of enjoying the Official Barn Grand Tour, presented by the very artists themselves. In a word, it’s a transformative experience. The outside looks amazing, yes, but in his wholehearted opinion the personal touches on the interior decor raises the place’s coziness to the next level. Over the past few weeks, Peridot and Lapis have spent their efforts transforming all the mementos and broken scraps of their lives into art, (or ‘meep-morp,’ as Lapis calls it), displaying the pieces all throughout their shared home. Peridot’s broken audio recorder now rests peacefully on a stand, a sky blue ribbon tied around the fractures at its middle. Touchingly, he learns that Lapis kept the leaf he gave her, delicately propping it upright in a clump of soil. A TV affixed to the ceiling beams with metal cables plays a clip of CPH on repeat. He has a niggling suspicion that the clip she selected represents her lingering trauma about, like... being trapped in a mirror for thousands of years, but according to her it’s merely a fan’s shrine of the show. Still, while discussing books together Connie once told him that all art is subjective and authorial intent is dead, so respectfully he’s sticking to his interpretation. But regardless of its meaning, he’s so, so happy to see her freely making things for herself.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the creative spectrum, Peridot’s green alien plush is floating alongside various hunks of garbage in the hodgepodge aquarium at the side wall. Its slow voyage through the tank is admittedly entrancing, but oh, do those big deep eyes grow more and more unnerving the longer he stares at them. The last straw comes when he watches stuffing slowly drift out of a gaping hole in the fabric at its neck. Subtly cringing, he takes a step back from the glass to go admire something else. Sometimes art isn’t made for everyone, and that’s okay.

It takes a few moments before he makes the proper connections and realizes that the red bow tie Peridot is wearing around her neck used to be that plush’s. Oh… oh geez.

Amethyst, however, doesn’t seem to be buying any of it. In fact, she’s barely cracked a smile since they entered the barn, not even at Peridot and Lapis’ collaborative toilet morp. And who doesn’t laugh at toilets? On any normal day she’d eat that kind of stuff right up.

“This is so stupid,” she mutters, her eyes thin slits as she stares with a frustratingly unreadable expression at the four liquid pillars shooting up out of the bowls.

Disappointment flickers across Lapis’ face like stars on the morning horizon. She quickly releases her iron hold on the water, channeling it into the heart of the tanks. A similar emotion colors Peridot’s features for a moment, and he briefly worries their visit may be cut off short, but after meeting his encouraging glance she shakes it off and promptly begins to move on to the next item of their home tour.

“Alright,” she says, folding her hands behind her back all prim and proper, “I see you're not impressed. But—“

“Hey, you guys!” a familiar voice shouts from the distance, growing closer and closer with each passing moment. “I’m here! I came! Is it too late to join in?”

All four of them whirl around at the interruption.

Peridot squints. “Is that…”

“Ruby?” Lapis finishes, confusion etched across her features with pinpoint precision.

“Ruby!” Steven calls, sliding across the floorboards to meet her at the barn door. “No, you're not late, you’re just in time! Look, look, look—“ He takes her by the hand and whisks her inside, almost sweeping her clear off her feet in the process.

Her mouth falls agape as she drinks in the rustic atmosphere, the air now a good deal lighter thanks to her interruption.

“Whoa… this place looks completely different!”

“I know, right??” he says with an untamable grin. He gestures wildly at all of their unique creations. “It’s art! Isn’t it great? Peridot and Lapis have been showing us all this super cool stuff they’ve made!”

“Yes, I suppose we are pretty great,” the green Gem says, puffing out her chest.

Lapis rolls her eyes in response. No amount of sass can hide the action’s underlying fondness, though. Steven’s no imperceptive fool. She may act pretty aloof at times, but once you get to know her she’s not that hard to read at all. One merely has to pay attention to the subtle shifts in her demeanor. It’s the little things: the incline of her brow, a slight tilt of the head, the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it twitch of her lips as she pretends she doesn’t care as much as she does. And then, the more she trusts you, the less tense her posture is and the more she opens up. It makes his heart sing to know that Peridot has seemingly been added to that roster.

“Eh,” she murmurs with the hint of a smile, leaning back against the wall behind her roommate. “I guess we’re okay.”

Amethyst crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she peers down at Ruby. “So, what’s up with you? I thought you said you wanted to mope at the temple.”

She shuffles her feet. ��Well…”

“And I thought you and that Sapphire never unfused,” Lapis says, ever so blunt. “Except... for baseball,” she hastily amends. Consumed by a spike of panic, her gaze darts towards the doorway with guarded suspicion. “We don’t have to play baseball again... right?”

“Hmmm… I mean, we could play baseball,” Steven muses, pressing his hand to his jaw.

That’s certainly one way he could encourage Amethyst to enjoy some bonding time with everyone. He has a bunch of fond memories of the last game they played together. Well, okay, so maybe he could’ve done without the ceaseless feeling of dread brought by batting against Homeworld loyalists with unknown intentions, but beggars can’t be choosers. As his first time playing a full game it was still 70% a good time.

Meanwhile, Peridot’s petite frame quivers at the reminder of that day. She grips at her hair, large tufts of yellow poking out from between her fingers.

“Oh my stars, they’re coming back??”

Ruby throws her a bemused side glance. “Uh—“

“Get behind me, Lapis,” she continues, daringly throwing her body in front of her roommate. “I’ll protect us from those Homeworld brutes this time!”

“We’re not playing baseball!” Amethyst cuts in.

His lips curl into a pout. “Aw, but it’d be so much fun!”

She crosses her arms, visibly walling herself off. “Uh, no, it wouldn’t! ‘Sides, there’s no immediate danger, there’s no Homeworld Rubies on our doorstep, so there’s NO reason on this planet I’d play that stupid game again!”

Eyes narrowing with mild exasperation, Lapis nudges her way out from the green Gem’s overprotection. “‘Kay. So, is anyone here actually gonna explain what’s going on, or?”

Nervously rocking on her heels next to him, Ruby rests her hand against her chin.

“Well…”

“Ruby and Sapphire are kinda… taking some time apart?” he delicately explains in her steed, noticing her hesitation. It’s probably something that’s really hard for her to talk about right now, and boy can he relate to that.

“Yeah,” she says in confirmation, kicking her toes against the floor boards. “I didn’t exactly want to, but Sapphy needs her space.”

For all her initial dislike of the fusion Gem, Peridot looks genuinely heartbroken at this revelation. “But… why?” she asks, peering between the three Crystal Gems in wait of further clarification. “Aren’t you two basically inseparable?”

Faint hints of lemon peel and nutmeg linger in the air like silent sentries to their distress. Steven stands in the kitchen with Pearl, Garnet, and his dad, Amethyst lounging on the other side of the counter, and their dirty breakfast dishes still lying stagnant in the sink. Garnet’s kneeling before him. She’s speaking, but he’s so distraught he can’t quite recall what it is she said. His dad’s hand rests on his shoulder, the pressure ever so slightly working to ground him to this moment again. He’s biting back tears, isn’t he? Trying not to cry for the umpteenth time that day. What happened? What changed? Everything’s fixed, yeah? He’s whole again! They were all supposed to be so happy now, and yet… the sight of the morning sun reflecting off the face of Garnet’s visor as she delivers that ill-fated news is the bitter, tangible proof that they’re not.  

“Ruby and Sapphire have decided they want to take some time apart. Indefinitely.”

Amethyst’s expression is colored with hurt. “But… why?”

In the present he stiffens, suddenly polarized by the realization that the path of this conversation has but one destined endpoint. Sooner or later, his friends will hear about what happened to him four days back, what happened to his family, what he learned about his... about Rose. There’s no avoiding this forever. After all, if they don’t learn it from him, they’ll eventually learn it from someone else. And don’t they deserve to know? This affects them too!

But if the recent past has taught him anything, it’s that the truth about Rose Quartz only succeeds in breaking people apart. It stole Garnet away. It shook his relationship with Amethyst and Pearl to the core. It caused them all to argue and fight, back at the fountain and at home. Give it time, and he’s sure the truth will find a way to press fissures in his relationships with Connie and Dad, too. So what happens, then, when Peridot and Lapis find out? In what way will the truth break them?

Just a little while longer, he promises himself. Just one more good day, please, that’s all I want…

“They, um- it’s just a couples thing,” he stammers, chest growing tight. “It’s just for a little bit. Sometimes people need time away from each other, y’know?”

Ruby‘s expression grows tense, sniffing out his white lie from a mile away. “Steven...“

“It’s totally healthy and normal, and not at all a reason for concern!”

“Kinda sounds like we should be concerned,” Lapis mutters. “All of you have been acting weird this whole time, so spill! What’s going on?”

Their words start to become faint and distant in the shadow of his wildly pounding heart, so wondrously human and organic and alive, and yet so endlessly frustrating in its autonomy. Why can’t he hear clearly? What’s up with that awful ringing he can’t get rid of? It’s almost as if he’s listening to everyone ten feet under choppy waters, but they’re all standing right next to him. They’re right there.

The red Gem scratches at her neck, meeting Amethyst's harsh, crystal-studded glance first. Her mouth opens. Still disorientated, Steven misses a good half of it.

“...wants to tell ‘em?” she finishes, waiting dutifully for their responses.

As expected the quartz remains silent on the matter, feigning indifference as she crosses her arms and returns to staring sullenly into the middle distance. Ruby turns to him next. His skin feels downright clammy now, almost as bad as it did when he was almost dyi— NO! Stop! He shakes his head fervently, sweeping his hands horizontal in a signal for her to cut the conversation. He can’t do this. Not now, not today, not ever, he can’t—

Lapis bristles. “Tell us what?”

“Um, nothing, nothing!” he bursts out, clumsy words pouring from his mouth almost quicker than his brain can move to stack them up. “It’s a long story, and we’re all here to have some fun and shoot the breeze, right? Right. ‘Course we are! So we don’t have to talk about that right now, we can talk about it later, and for now we should try to have a good time and enjoy each other’s compa—“

Amethyst slams her foot to the floor so hard the wooden board underneath cracks. Both Steven and Lapis flinch.

“Ughh, you guys! Stop dancing around the headline!” she shouts. “You really wanna know what happened? Steven almost died ‘cause he got his gem busted, and then we found out Rose Quartz was totally a sham and she’s like, Pink Diamond n’ junk, okay?!”

A stunning silence follows this inopportune announcement, in which he swears he can hear his stomach gurgle. On any typical day he'd be thinking about lunch around this time, except at the moment he genuinely almost feels sick to his stomach. Right now he wants nothing more than to turn tail and run, run away from all of this, and yet chained to his fate just as Lonely Blade was destined to his, his legs remain firmly shackled in place. Standing at his side, Peridot blinks in dumbfounded shock.

“What.”

“S-she’s- You’re a DIAMOND??” Lapis shrieks, water wings shooting from her back on impulse.

“Whaaaat?”

_______

Notes: 

The next few chapters will be a bit familiar to y'all, but I'm not doing a beat for beat rehash, I assure you. Events start similarly here because the world external to Steven’s sphere of influence is still operating the same as it does in canon. The ripples haven’t fully spread yet. After this arc, they absolutely will have.

I do have a bonus scene to share soon- set between chapters 9 and 10. I'll likely post that before chapter 11.

Oh, and by the way- the location Connie's visiting is inspired by a real place- the Harike Wetlands in Punjab, India. Apparently India is actually a series of islands in the SU universe...? But I like to believe there’s still a cool wetlands region on one of those islands.

[luvbotclub]

stay — part one: mark lee.

it’s not me, it’s you— you had a change of heart. what kind of change of heart was that and why didn’t feel it? or in which mark doubts himself as an idol, a boyfriend, and a person.

content warning for angst, i’m sorry markzens. 4,867 words.

this can be read as x reader or x oc since i didn’t give mark’s girlfriend a name (this applies to the other parts as well). the other parts may be a little delayed since i’m working on some other fics as well, but i’ll try my best to finish this series! i hope you will enjoy reading this one :D

the sun was shining outside his window. the sunlight seeped through his silk curtains, and for some reason, mark lee didn't feel like sliding them aside and welcoming the april warmth with open arms today, or any other day to be honest. he didn't bother getting up and cooking himself some delicious breakfast, nor did he get up and at least fix his appearance a little bit. he was so disheartened to do anything ever since she left.

but mark has been feeling less like... well, mark nowadays, so there was no question as to why he was acting the way he is. but who could blame him? almost five months has passed and he has made close to no progress with moving on from her. her departure and the demise of them has impacted mark in the worst ways there is to exist.

mark has managed to go out with taeyong and jaehyun for some coffee two days prior to this unfortunate saturday morning without somehow making everyone around him feel burdened by his troubled presence.

mark hated that feeling the most ㅡ the feeling that he’s slowly becoming a burden to the people around him. and perhaps he is, indeed, starting to become a burden to the people around him.

he's tried. he's tried so hard. but it hurts, so so much. the feeling of her warm embrace and the sound of her laugh and the way she smiles are all fucking imprinted in his mind. there was no escape from her torturous murder. the poison she uses is cutting into his skin… slowly, leaving a trail of rotten memories behind.

maybe if she hadn't left him so harshly, mark would've dealt with her farewell a lot better than he is doing right now. maybe, just maybe, if she hadn't been so cruel enough to just tell him straight in the face that it's not me, it's you, you had a change of heart; mark would've forgiven himself faster. his chest would have been filled with something other than guilt and confusion to what he's done wrong, why did she leave, who made her leave, what kind of fucking change of heart was that and why in fuck's name didn't he feel it.

mark has tried to spend more time with her. he really did try, but success came for his group faster than nct and sm entertainment had expected, and he trained longer in the practice room for six days per week for their tour and comeback to make a bigger impact than before. but, in the end, when he's back in their shared apartment, it feels like everything he did wasn't enough. the awards he won, the effort he put into dancing, each lyric he sings out every blurred, sweaty night just for millions to hear. they weren't enough to make her smile reach her eyes. they weren't enough to make her satisfied with him.

they weren't enough for her to stay.

sometimes, mark would think. maybe he's really the one to the blame. maybe he should have just taken more breaks and spent more time with her ― cook lunch with her, cuddle with her on the couch, give her massages while she ranted and ranted about the rude customers at her workplace, the marais. maybe, instead of sweating and singing his heart out, he could have stayed home. maybe he should have been a better boyfriend. maybe he wasn't good enough.

for the past few days, mark's mind has been filled with maybe's and what if's and i'm never going to be good enough's. it was strange. he felt all this remorse ― he even blamed himself because he was doing what he had been wanting to do for a long time ― and all this confusion because of a girl who has sent his friends snapchats of her playing just dance with her workmates a day after she said goodbye, because of a girl who left him on a living room floor with a heart that fell into pieces and the echoes of his pleas for her to please stay with me in each corner of the room ㅡ haunting him, crawling to his skin like the remnants of a bad dream.

it was selfish for mark to think, nor to say aloud, but a despicable part of him wished she felt somewhat guilty for leaving him behind in the dust like this ㅡ or even be concerned about his well being. but no. she left in the first place without a care ㅡ why would she care about whatever’s happening in mark’s mind, now that she has a great life without an idol boyfriend who's always dragging her down?

but today. today. it felt like the day to start living his life again, to live like mark lee who could make people smile just by the sound of his laugh alone. he's disappeared for exactly two weeks from television appearances, family dinners, and friendly get-togethers ㅡ even company parties, he couldn't attend. he was in the stage of denial in the first week, like he was mourning over a death of a loved one. fans have left comments, questions as to why he disappeared all of a sudden all over nct’s twitter and instagram pages and they’ve started to worry whether mark was doing okay or not. his family grew concerned for his well-being, so did his fellow members. they sent him food with stupid little hearts taped to the lunchbox (taeil once sent him naengmyun, along with a paper heart with a classy dad joke and his well wishes scribbled on it). they sent him encouraging messages almost everyday ― the fans, his family, his fellow members. they're all there for him, because they knew that mark isn't okay.

mark decided to get up from his bed an hour after he finished the piece of toast and cup of coffee he both made in a haste. he didn’t even bother putting anything along with the toast, and it was burnt. everyday, his breakfast gets worse. but he needed to put something in his stomach ― he's not going to be in this state forever and he still needed to take care of himself.

mark's grip on the plate was tight, knuckles white as he rested the ceramic plate on the sink. he turned his head after washing his hands and saw the shoe and coat rack by the front door. it was strange to see her newly bought pair of nikes and her ivory coat gone from the racks ― they were her least favoured articles of clothing. maybe she could have left them with him, so he could have something that reminds him of her presence.

but, no. that's way too cruel, isn't it? she did mark a favour of not leaving a single trace of her behind, even as little as a speck of dust from her belongings or a smear of her red lipstick on his favourite white mug. she knew she was practically death itself to him ― her name a lethal spoken curse, her scent a guilty pleasure, her voice a melody so deadly. to love her will be a death wish, but he feels and loves her without a single trace of fear that it'd harm him one day. he loves her. every inch, every night spent watching stupid random shows in the tv, every kiss, every parent joke they've cracked together. he misses them. he misses her. and sometimes he didn't even care if it were his fault or hers ― because either way, she'll still leave an empty shell in his chest, a shell that longed to be filled with her love again.

mark lee never thought it was possible for his heart to ache for someone so much.

he closed his eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh, wanting nothing more than to scream out his frustrations and drink some good fucking coffee right now. but the coffee maker was broken, and mark didn't feel like going out to town and buying a new one. it might sound like it was a stupid reason and he knew perfectly well of the fact, but he doesn't want everyone to see him like this... whatever he is right now.

is he even human at this point? he feels like someone ripped half of his body and soul and he just feels the opposite of the caring mark everybody adored. he feels like he doesn't even have a heart beating right now as his eyes are closed to the darkness — just an empty chest and an empty head.

mark wants to be somewhere else other than this damn apartment. it was way too depressing and he finally got sick of being burdened by it all — it was way too exhausting to be so burdened all the time, to have your head weighed down by thoughts of what could have happened. maybe he can go to a clear field with a nice, baby blue sky, or the coffee house in town where soft jazz played. he didn’t even like jazz. maybe anywhere, just to get away from this place. even the recording studio sounded inviting right now.

the roar of mark's ringtone ripped through the silent room, and it took him a few seconds to recover from the small jumpscare he got before he grabbed his phone that was in his sweatshirt pocket. mental note: put your phone in silent mode next time.

it was a text from jeno.

[jeno]: hi hyung. you up for coffee later with jaemin later? XD

mark suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the emoticon. jeno could be really ridiculous (and cringy) sometimes, yet he couldn’t ignore the letters that were practically glowing at his eyes, screaming for his reply to be fuck yes i am up for this, but as mark was somewhat in mid reply (and it was an awfully nonchalant yeah, sure with no stupid emoji to support his message), his fingers stopped typing.

would it be worth it, though? he doesn't even have the mental energy to go out and buy his own food, let alone go out for coffee (even though he's succeeded once...). a small part of him felt bad for jeno. all the boy wanted was to drink coffee with his members, but mark's fucking sadness is stopping him. it's not even jeno's fault mark turned out like this these past few weeks.

after a few seconds of contemplating, mark continued typing his message, feeling a little afraid of making jeno think he was uninterested.

[me]: yeah, sure. 😃 can you pick me up?

he tapped the send button, instantly regretting that he added the smiling emoji at the end (because now he sounds so enthusiastic to go, even if a part of him really did) and the fact that he just asked his friend to do him yet another favour. mark felt bad for jeno, he really did, but he didn't even know where the coffee shop was, and, knowing mark, he gets lost sometimes because the boy had no sense of direction whatsoever. jeno's response came a few seconds after, which amazed mark for a bit since jeno was never the fastest replier.

[jeno]: geez, hyung 😒

[jeno]: i'll be there around 1, jaem had to run some errands so he’ll be a lil late. see you later!!!

feeling relieved jeno didn't pry any more into the subject, mark locked his phone and put in his sweatshirt pocket. he felt more fresh, somehow, he felt like his steps won't be heavy and that his life will actually improve today. like an imaginary weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. maybe he should treat jeno and jaemin with lunch one day, if the day went well.

after a few hours of sitting in the sofa and listening to a bunch of songs taeyong has sent him over the past few days, mark went to take a nice, warm shower and changed into his “outside” clothes (...which were the same as his stay-in clothes) and waited for jeno and jaemin outside his locked home, foot tapping on the pavement out of habit.

as promised through his text, jeno arrived at mark's place at the same time when the clock in mark's phone read 1:00 pm. mark felt like grabbing jeno and giving him the biggest hug he's ever given to another member once he jumped off of the black van he arrived in ㅡ the boy's done so much for him ㅡ sending lunchboxes, agreeing to meet up with him in 3am nights where mark couldn't sleep at all, and, now, agreeing to pick mark up right on time even if he probably had million of things going through his mind right now, with nct dream's comeback slowly approaching them.

“hey, hyung,” greeted jeno, brown hair swept to the side messily. after a very long time, there was a genuine smile on mark's lips ㅡ he was happy to see a familiar face in the midst of this chaos. “you ready to go?”

mark gave the younger man a nod, and pocketed his phone in his pants.

a few minutes of catching up led them to full time story-telling, which is totally typical of the parent-like pair of friends. mark was smiling the whole time, because, again, he was with a familiar face and he hadn't been able to speak his mind to another person for a few days, constantly insecure of what others would think of him and his thoughts.

they were overcome with surprise when the driver pulled up on the pavement since they were too caught up in their conversation to pay attention to their surroundings, signalling that they've arrived in the said café. it seemed like the other cafés he's visited before. it had treats and specials lined up by the baby blue tinted window, ranging from strawberry cream puffs to the manager's favourite mushroom pizza. mark looked at the café’s exterior in astonishment and glanced back at jeno. jeno had good taste.

mark looked at the café one more time. he still had a few moments before they went inside; jeno was taking too damn well to adjust his facemask. it was perfect ㅡ black tables at the patio with white chairs as a contrast, fancy little plants lined up just by the café's entrance.

it was all fun until his eyes darted over to the shop's logo, etched in a fancy script font and a mighty golden colour. the light in mark's eyes faltered and the smile plastered on his face dropped in desultory, as the letters made his throat go dry.

the marais.

singing is a stupid thing now. he doesn't feel like singing a bunch of twisted words just for millions to hear. no. he doesn't feel like doing anything. getting scolded at for not singing a note properly is getting tiresome. constantly redoing certain parts because the producer didn’t like it is getting tiresome. thinking of her at any given opportunity is getting tiresome. doing this, whatever it is... it's tiresome.

“i hope you’re happy today,” came the soft muse of donghyuck through his headset. it was strange that mark felt something strong snap in his chest just because of these words. they were going through the songs in the album and mark didn’t know why he was even required to be here for that — he wasn’t even in make your day.

when he heard his dongsaeng’s verse, he felt like crying again. he’s gotten so bad — this was just all so fucking tiring. all he can think about is the way she looked that day in the café, stunned to see the two tall idols in her sight and soon seeing jaemin rush into the shop without much care if he was causing a ruckus or not. she didn’t think that she would see him ever again, thinking that she’s ran away from all of that, the exhausting world of mark lee and being constantly shoved to the side.

“i'm ― i'm sorry," his voice is weak. the words were strained coming out of his throat. he couldn't breathe, but he had to do this. “i can’t do this. not today, no.”

am i really doing this?

mark's heart skipped a beat. yes.

he removed his headset quickly, the song cutting off just as jaehyun’s part began. mark grabbed his cap and mask from the table and put them on. he felt no feeling of hesitation or remorse from his actions as he stared at the producer and members, all staring back at him and obviously stunned. mark shook his head and turned his back on them, ignoring donghyuck’s tired and annoyed stare burning at the back of his head. he really tried to be okay for one day, but he can't do that. the closure she gave wasn't enough — well, was there ever any closure in the first place? he had to give his own closure, or else he'll explode from all these feelings burning his insides with guilt that he didn't even have to feel in the first place if he just became a better boyfriend, a better person.

“mark, come back here,” taeyong’s tired drawl came, echoing through the halls. mark stopped walking but didn’t face his hyung. “you’re really going to skip a recording just for a girl who doesn’t even want to see you anymore?”

taeyong’s words stung, but mark swallowed and gave a firm, “yes.”

as he walked down the hallways and ignoring the incredulous burning stares of the crew, wondering why the hell he was out in the hall instead of being in the recording studio like his schedule declared so, mark thought of all the things he'll say. they need to make sense or else skipping a recording session will all be for nothing and the scolding from taeyong would make him feel even guiltier for the rest of his entire life. i love you, you heartless prick. no. that's way too blunt. i love you, and i don’t need you to say the same thing. i just want you to say goodbye one last time.

that’s all mark ever wanted.

that’s all mark ever needed.

he called a taxi and immediately got in, telling the driver his destination which was the marais. a frown was evident on the young idol's face as his phone vibrated text message after text message, all either from taeyong or taeil telling him he has the next two hours to get his ass back to the studio or else they were telling the ceo about it. it was tiring. he was debating whether to ignore them or reason it out like the adult he was, because he was feeling annoyed at their lack of understanding and at the same time he just wanted to be mature with them.

both of mark’s options sounded too far out of his reach when the taxi driver suddenly stopped his car and told him they were already at his destination, and he was forced to lock his phone instead, ignoring the constant vibration of the device.

he started shaking as he gave the driver money, and his hands became sweaty when he exited out of the car and slammed the door shut. mark walked over to the café with a heavy heart, his legs wanting nothing more than to retreat to the studio and spare his ego the embarrassment, but he was here now. there was no point in turning back. he’d embarrass himself anyways if he came back to the studio, he could practically hear donghyuck cheekily saying “i told you so” and the small knowing smirk on the younger’s face. mark shuddered at the thought.

as he went through the door of the shop, he instantly got a whiff of the strong coffee they were brewing — their bestseller and the same coffee she used to bring home for mark to drink. the boy only swallowed the fear in his throat and shook the memories off.

he walked up to the counter, legs still shaky as the employee working the cashier looked at him with a bright smile, “um, hi. i’m looking for someone who works here? is—”

“mark?”

mark looked up at the sudden voice, his words cut off halfway. if his heart was already beating fast even before he'd seen her, mark was pretty sure it’d jump right out of his chest as he made eye contact with the woman who got him into this predicament in the first place. he exhaled heavily and bowed his head to the employee behind the cashier, apologizing for the interruption before walking over to her who was standing just by the kitchen door and dressed in the white coat she hated so much. the sight made mark want to go home for some reason.

“what are you doing here?” she laughed nervously as he came closer. “aren’t you busy? i heard you guys are having a comeback?”

mark shook his head, ignoring the urge inside of him to tell her i skipped a recording for you. he knew it wouldn't matter to her anyways. “i’m not busy at all. i just want to talk to you about something. is that okay?”

she nodded yet the look in her eyes clearly said she really didn’t want anything to do with him at all. “sure, do you want to step out for a bit?”

mark only noticed the stares of the customers at the pair of them when she glanced around the room, and he immediately nodded. the last thing he needed was for someone to recognize him and spread rumours (even though he knew that was practically unavoidable at this point—people were already starting to point). she took hold of his hand and led him out of the coffee shop, ignoring the incredulous whispers of everyone.

once they were outside, mark was the first to pull his hand away from her grasp in such a haste. he almost apologized when he saw the brief shock emerge in her face at the brash action, but at this point, he didn’t have time for games anymore — figuratively and quite literally, since he only had an hour left before taeyong and taeil will call the ceo on him.

“so what is it that you want to talk about?”

“i wanted to talk about us,” mark exhaled, finally feeling a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. he saw her face contort a little, obviously displeased at the topic. “i just — you gave your closure. but i didn’t.”

“mark, it’s been months,” she laughed, the sound coming out as breathless. “you still haven’t moved on?”

“how could i do that?” mark started laughing too, albeit humorlessly. he ignored the pang in his chest as he realized that she found the entire situation funny. “everything i see, everyone i talk to. everything reminds me of you. i can’t even do anything right, i can’t even live normally anymore, because i keep thinking, why? why did she break up with me? was i a bad boyfriend?”

“mark— no,” the smile on her face dropped. “you weren’t a bad boyfriend. i just—”

“then why did you tell me i had a change of heart?!” mark was enraged. he didn’t want to be angry. he didn’t mean to raise his voice like that. he didn’t mean to let his tears cascade down his cheeks. he probably looked so pathetic right now, practically seething at the image of himself, tears falling and eyes pleading for an answer, for anything. “i didn’t. i didn’t have a change of heart. if i did then i would have been the one who ended things. if i was such a good boyfriend, then why did you leave me? right when i needed you most?”

mark didn’t even let her open her mouth before he spoke up again, the pain in his voice raw. “i tried so hard. i’ve always tried so hard but you made me feel like i didn’t. i’ve always protected you from everything and everyone. i’ve always defended you. you made me feel like everything i’ve ever done, for myself, for you ­— they weren’t enough for you. i always thought that maybe i wasn’t good enough to make you stay. i guess i was right, wasn’t i?”

“i was scared,” she answered calmly. “i fell out of love with you and i didn’t want to admit that. it was my fault. all of it. i only said that so i wouldn’t feel terrible about leaving you but i didn’t realize it was too harsh of me to say that right away. i’m sorry, mark, for everything. please stop blaming yourself.”

mark only nodded, wiping at the tears that were on his cheeks and blinking away the ones that threatened to fall. he got what he wanted. he got the truth. he gave his closure. so why did it still hurt? why did it still pain him to see her, looking at him like he was the saddest, most pathetic person to ever exist? the pitiful stare she was giving him made mark feel so sick in the stomach that he had to look away so that the feeling won’t resurface.

“just know,” mark breathed out shakily, fingers trembling and aching to brush the stray hair that fell on her face aside. he bit the inside of his cheek to stop the urge until he tasted blood. “i still love you and i don’t think that will ever change. even if you hurt me. even if you broke my heart so bad to the point that i didn’t know if i’ll be fine by the end of it all. you became a part of my life no matter how bad it got in the end.”

“i love you too, mark,” she smiled warmly and mark knew she was lying straight to his face right now. but he didn’t care. it felt good, strange almost, to hear those words tumble out of her lips again. “i don’t want to leave you like this but i have to go now. i made some plans with a friend. maybe we can hang out together soon? i can call you?”

“it’s okay,” mark shook his head. “i’ll be busy anyways. enjoy your day. thank you for everything.”

he was pretty sure his friends had already deleted her number from his contacts (it was either johnny or donghyuck who did it). after this, he was going to back to the studio and suffer the consequences of his actions, he’d have to put up with the hyung line staring at him with disappointed glints in their eyes during the entirety of the car ride back home and donghyuck bombarding him with questions about what happened once the younger boy has cornered him somewhere in the dorm. but he wasn’t bothered or even annoyed that he’d be experiencing these things soon.

mark was about to turn away and find a taxi when a tall man approached them, his long arms soon snaking around her shoulder and pulling her into an embrace. mark was quite surprised but shook his head — he was going to stop caring about her from now on. whatever business this man had to do with her, he didn’t care.

“who’s this, babe?” the nickname caught mark off guard.

“hyunwoo,” she mumbled under her breath, obviously uncomfortable at the current situation. “this is mark. remember? i told you about him.”

“oh, the idol?” ‘hyunwoo’ turned his head to mark and the shorter boy nodded. “nice to meet you! i heard you’re quite acquainted with my girlfriend here. she told me a lot about you.”

“oh, girlfriend?” mark was surprised at the cool tone of his question. “well, yeah. i used to be quite close with her.”

“we’re not dating or anything,” she tried to laugh off, but the nervous glint in her eyes screamed otherwise. “i’m just friends with hyunwoo. it’s like what it looks like, mark—”

“it’s okay,” mark smiled warmly, looking at her then back at hyunwoo. “i don’t care who you date. it’s not like you owe me an explanation of any sort.”

“i—yeah, of course,” she mumbled to herself, looking down at the ground before looking back up at mark. “it was nice talking to you. we’ll get going now. keep in touch, okay?”

mark nodded and the warm smile on his face didn’t falter even for a second. after the two had walked away, mark stayed in the same spot. he didn’t miss the way the two shared a short kiss before hyunwoo opened the car door for her and helped her inside before hopping in the driver’s seat and driving away. once they were gone, mark’s phone began ringing, calls from taeyong flooding his missed calls.

mark only smiled to himself, pressing the call button on taeyong’s number while his eyes were still fixated on the spot where hyunwoo’s car was previously parked.

i’ll forget about you, someday.

[goodnightallwhites]

A Blacked Valentines by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - A Blessed Day

Valentine’s Day already. Soft rain pattered against the windows of Micaela’s studio apartment as she did her afternoon workout routine and waited for her boyfriend’s arrival. The little cuck was hoping he could see some action after the last few months of dating her without so much as getting a glimpse of her ass. Boy, is he in for a surprise. She came down her for her lunges, and the sight of her own tight little body in the mirror dripping with sweat and the yoga pants stretching over her bubble butt made her giddy. “You’re such a hot fucking bitch,” she told herself with admiration. Jay arrived as the sun went down and came in offering a luxurious bouquet that must’ve cost him a fortune, with another small gift bag dangling from a trembling hand. There was a goofy smile on his pale face, but he was undoubtedly anxious; as wrong as it was to think of him as prey, his pure beta weakness made him irresistible to her spider instincts. Micaela accepted the flowers and quickly offered her cheek for a kiss as he came for her mouth. He left him there, downtrodden and wet, with the string of the gift bag wrapped around his fingers. She found a vase for the flowers and gave them some water, then pulled the yoga pants as tight as they could go and made her way back into the room with a grin. Her beta white boy of a boyfriend held out the gift. “H-Here,” he stammered. “This is for you too.” “Awww, you’re such a darling,” she cooed, keeping it a little condescending. She reached into the bag and made a face as she took up the little jewelry box and opened it. The sight of the diamond on the ring almost floored her, and Micaela wondered what the crazy idiot did to afford it. Sure, he could starve himself off for a month for those flowers, but this?... “Who did you kill for this?” she asked. “K-Kill? Nobody!” His damp face reflected in the ceiling lights as he stepped forwards, wringing his hands in the weakest gesture possible, as if he were apologizing for the act. “It’s my mother’s. It was my mother’s he corrected himself. It’s been passed down for generations in our family, all the way from a hundred years ago or something.” Whether he wanted to propose or not, Micaela put an end to it by placing it on her index finger. “I like it,” she said, trying to suppress her excitement. The ring was so beautiful that she almost considered giving him a blowjob. Almost. But she could never sink so low as to take the clitty dick of some slavish beta boy. “So…” Jay gulped and stood before her. “So,” repeated Micaela. “I guess it’s time for your Valentine’s Day gift, huh?” Jay put his hands in his pocket awkwardly trying to act cool. “I don’t know… Is it?” Micaela grinned. She tugged on her yoga pants suggestively and teased him as she slowly slithered out of them, bending over before him so to give him a good look at her butt, the pale cheeks shimmering as the lights inked out every bit of firm glute muscle. His face went white as he watched her, and she could see his knees buckling. “You like that?” “Yes…” he said weakly. “I do.” Oh, what a stupid little beta boy. But then, weren’t those the most fun to break? Her fingers started bunching the material at her chest, slowly lifting up the shirt, until his eyes widened as he saw the BLACKED branding along the waistband. He stared at it stupidly, confused beyond words, and went on watching as she removed the shirt entirely and stood before him, her gorgeous body wearing only the trademark BLACKED lingerie. Micaela pulled on her bra straps and turned for him. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I know you said you loved those BLACKED vids, so I thought I’d get this just for you.” He struggled to say the words, still shocked by his supposed gift. “It’s lovely.” She stepped forwards and gave his cheek a warm caress. He had been trained well. Over the last few months, Micaela got him to accept all sorts of humiliations. First, by repeatedly telling him about her old black lovers and how amazing they made her feel, then insisting she needed a break from sex. How being around them turned her into a size queen and she needed to forget how big they were inside. She even invited him over to her place and showed him her favorite BLACKED releases and made him watch all of them and then rank his favorites. And he did it all. Just in the hopes that maybe, somehow, he would get to fuck her one day. With all her constant teasing and talk of the their future together, he fell for her and thought that it would happen for real, and that maybe this whole interracial thing was just a part of her he needed to learn to accept… Now, as Micaela placed her hands on his neck and watched the gleam of her new diamond ring, she felt more confident than ever that his days were numbered. “I have one more surprise for you,” she said, tracing a finger down his chest to his desperate little dick. “Do you know what it is?” “No…” “I’m going to be a very, very bad girl for you. You know how you said you loved that BLACKED stuff so much?” He blinked and answered reluctantly. “Sure.” “I’m going to do it for you. I’m going to have a shoot, and you’re coming with me.” “Micaela,” he started, but she covered his lips with her finger. “I’m doing it for you, baby. Because you love it so much. And I want to make you happy.” “It’s not--” “Plus, I’ve already signed the contract. There’s no way to back off from it now. Aren’t you happy?” Micaela pouted and fluttered her eyelashes like a sad little girl. “Baby, I thought you’d be happy…” Panicked, he shook his head and became as small as a cockroach. “I’m happy.” Micaela kept the sad look but smiled inwardly. What a weak little boy. It’s almost sad to kill you. After, she took selfie in the mirror, showing off her new ring and new set of lingerie and uploaded it for her followers on Twitter and Instagram to see. Jay watched the dozens of fire and eggplant emoticons posted with dread. “Honey?” He lifted his head. “Y-Yeah?” “Don’t you like my picture?” “I do… It’s very nice…” Micaela smiled warmly. “Here you go. You can post it yourself too, to show the fam.” He shivered visibly as his phone beeped. “Show… them?” “Of course! You gave me the ring, didn’t you? And I gave you such a nice gift. Don’t you want to celebrate?” “But I have my college friends there… My relatives…” Micaela drew her head back theatrically and made a face. “And? What are you implying?” “N-Nothing. I’ll do it. Whatever you say.” It was a little effortless. Micaela sighed, a little bored, and watched as he was about to announce that he was a cuck to a snowbunny to the whole world. The Californian sun shone above the verdant garden as the crew went about setting up the cameras for filming. Micaela stood next to Jay, waving as every male gaze landed on her, while her boyfriend only kept his head on the ground, petrified by shame and feelings of inferiority. “Micaela…” he said slowly after a while. “God, I can’t wait to get fucked,” she said, disregarding the beginning of his appeal completely. He just swallowed his words like a good little cuck and stayed quiet. It wasn’t long until the director showed up, a ditzy looking blonde that had just gotten out of film school, her hair bunched up in a ponytail while her heart-shaped glasses caught the glare of the sun. “Hey, you guys. You’ll go in for makeup soon, our guy is almost here.” Micaela shook her head. “No worries.” The blonde glanced at her boyfriend and then back to her, then back to him. “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that you’re supporting her like this.” Jay bobbed his head like a eunuch honored just to be noticed. “Thanks…” “Actually, I’m the one doing it for him. My boyfriend is a HUGE fan of BLACKED stuff.” The blonde blushed and giggled. “Me too. I even wrote the script for today.” What a good little snowbunny you are, thought Micaela. Though she doubted the blonde was anything special. This was the kind of girl that slept with black guys because she thought it made her look cool, not because she truly felt the need to fuck hard and get wasted by a sweet BBC. She was the type that would screw around, have a few quaint fucks, and then marry and have babies with the first sap she met. The more Micaela looked at her, the more she felt her irritation rise. Even cucks like Jay were better - at least they had a soul. “That’s nice,” said Micaela. “Though, if you don’t mind, I have my own ideas for the script.” “But it’s--” “Like I said, this has been my boyfriend’s fantasy for a while so I’d be very mad if anyone got in the way of fulfilling it the right way. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure you’ll like it.” The blonde just stared at her and ultimately nodded just as Micaela knew she would. “S-Sure… I guess we can try it…” Spineless worm. Micaela laughed as she walked away. “Do you know what my fantasy is?” Jay suddenly started. “My fantasy is that we could run away right now a--” “This is your fantasy.” She reached and patted his head like one might do with a dog. “Seeing me getting fucked by a black stud and made to come better than ever is what you want for me. After all these months, can you imagine how tight I’ll be for him? I’m going to milk him dry. Oh, honey, I wish it would be you, but I’ve already made this agreement, so… my pussy belongs to a big black cock today.” Defeated, he gave in once more. It took a while until they got around to doing her makeup, but Micaela was happy with the way it turned out. There was a smoky, sleazy element to it despite the fine touch, and the moment she took off the robe and looked at herself in the branded BLACKED lingerie, she got a little wet thinking of how many cucks would be at home jerking themselves off to her once it was all released. Jay was standing at a distance, his eyes unable to look away from her perfectly toned body. All he dreamed of was being able to have a romantic moment with her and a handjob at best, and yet he was denied even as she prepared to take a BBC before the whole world. Micaela brushed back her highlight and let her fingers trace enticingly around her belly button. “Do you think my co-star will like me?” “D-Definitely…” “You know, I hope I don’t accidentally get preggo or something. Since we won’t be using any condoms.” His eyes went wide. “Aren’t you on the pill?...” “Are you joking? That stuff ruins your body. Nah, I’m just going to do it. After all, we talked about having kids, right?” She shrugged in a good-natured manner. “If it’s meant to be… Anyway, I think that will work best for the script I have in mind!” The ditz returned to tell them that the talent was in the building. Micaela took Jay by his clammy hand as they went in search of her scene partner. When the company asked Micaela if she would accept working with older guys, she jumped at the opportunity even before she heard about the increased pay. If there were two things she loved in life, it was the raw power that a black stud offered and the experience, dominance, and assertiveness brought by an older man. Combining them both into one was a dream come true. And the idea of having her cucky watch her barebacking a guy almost three times their age was just… divine. Mr Booker resided in an old folks home before one of the nurses there snapped a pic of his monster dick showing through his trousers and made him go viral. His face was deeply lined, but he looked slim despite the fact that he was about to turn seventy. He was, unfortunately, a little bit senile, and some of the crewmembers were trying to trick him into taking his meds. “Come on, Tony, you need to take these. They’ll make you feel much better,” a girl was telling him. The old black stud shook his head. “Hell no. You people brought me out here, fine. I ain’t taking no goddamn pills.” He snatched the bottle out of her hand with an unexpectedly quick movement and sent it flying across the room. Micaela grinned and approached him. “Mr Booker? My name’s Micaela. We’ll be working together today.” “You mean you’ll be the one I’ll be… you know.” Jay instinctively kept his distance but she squeezed his hand and pulled him in. “That’s right.” “Well, I’ll be damned, girl. I thought they were going to serve me up some old crone. You’re a tight piece of ass, aren’t ya’? Look at you… You got your little thing on and that blue in your hair. You some sort of hippie? Because I’ll fuck the shit out of you if you are. I don’t deal with them no good hippie bitches.” What a delightfully crazed old bastard. “No, sir, not a hippie. But feel free to fuck me as hard as you want. In fact, my boyfriend would love it if you did. Isn’t that right, honey?” Jay gulped and looked down. “Yes, sir…” “He’s your boyfriend and he wants me to fuck you? Damn, son, you must have some useless pecker if he wants me to fuck you.” Jay just went ashen and seemed to become so tiny in spirit that Micaela could barely see him. Oh, you poor thing… Did you ever really think you would not get fucked? It was incredible just how many of these cucks lacked any kind of self-awareness. These pasty motherfuckers with no looks, no experience, and no cash, genuinely thinking that they somehow earned fucking a perfect 10/10 like her. If any of them were decent, they would’ve turned her down out of respect even if she asked them out, let alone asking for a date themselves. But today Jay was going to get the lesson of a lifetime: white beta cucks deserved to die alone and unfucked. The blonde came and looked at everyone. “Are we ready?” The months they did of waiting for the movie to come out were agonizing not just for Jay, but for Micaela as well. He worried over what the final product would look like, while she couldn’t wait to get his reaction and that of the world when they saw her on screen like that. Maybe I’ll become a star, she thought hopefully. The vixen added to Jay’s misery by locking him in a chastity cage with the promise of sex the moment the video got released. “Until then, I just need to know you’ll be a good boy.” Seeing him zip up with the pink and puffy cage around his tiny dicklet was one of the funniest things she had ever seen.   But now it was finally time. Micaela bought drinks and food, and prepped the movie on the screen. She saw that her Twitter got two thousands followers just since morning, and most of them were sending her private messages saying how hot she was and how she deserved to be fucked by BBC. Now these were the sorts of cucks she found endearing and would reward rather than punish if it came down to it. They know their place. Jay came looking oddly excited, thinking that this would be his big night. “You ready?” Micaela teased him. He bobbed his head. “Let’s do this.” They turned off the lights and got comfy as Micaela pressed play. It started with a teaser of her showing off her body in different outfits and posing for the camera. My hubby and I always wanted to have a baby, but I just couldn’t imagine myself making another white kid. White boys were just so weak and spineless compared to black men that just the thought of carrying one in my womb made me want to kill myself. I loved my husband, but I knew that if he loved me as he said he did, then he would give me what I wanted... As the voice over played, Micaela glanced at Jay and the way the movie reflected in his glazed eyes. That’s when I tracked down Tony. He was an older guy, but no less of a man because of it. He could give us the strong black baby we wanted without getting in the way of our future marriage. When my husband said yes, his only condition was that he be able to watch… Jay read in the garden as Micaela approached hand in hand with Tony and introduced him. The camera zoomed in on his legs and the way his immense BBC showed bulged through and dropped past his cotton shorts. The next cut showed Micaela biting her tongue and lusting after it, then switched to Jay’s amazed reaction. “Well, baby, don’t you want to see what he’s packing?” she asked him suggestively. “Take it out.” Jay blinked and reached out tentatively, pulling on the other side of his pants so as not to make contact. The top part of the meaty shaft came into view and sprang out as the shorts dropped entirely. They kept a long and humiliating shot on Jay and the way he stared in shock at the monstrous BBC. Micaela’s nuzzled against Tony’s chest as his dark hand fondled her pale round ass, and then her palm moved all the way down his stomach till she could finally touch it. They focused on the way her slender fingers failed to wrap around his crazy girth. The family ring given to her by Jay gleamed in the sun and further added to his personal dismay as he watched his girlfriend caressing the dark shaft with such awe. Tony smacked her ass hard enough to make her yelp cutely for the camera, then came in to kiss her neck as the old fingers kneaded her young ass. “Damn, you’re a bad little white girl.” Micaela tossed her head back and cooed like a helpless little girl for the camera, making a show of it, tracing the warm tips of her fingers lovingly over the throbbing BBC in front of Jay’s terrified face. “Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you’re willing to give us a son.” The old man grinned and brought her sweet lips in for a kiss. “It’s my pleasure.” They edited a split screen of the hot interracial kiss on one side and Jay’s cucked face on the other. The black stud sent his tongue down her throat and sucked on hers, trying to eat her up right in front of her white boyfriend. Micaela stared into his eyes and trembled as it happened, her knees giving in from her proximity to the strong black bull. As Jay gazed away impotently, Tony suddenly glanced down at him. “You got a nice wife, white boy. I’m going to treat her real good.” Drool dripped down the side of Micaela’s mouth and fell to her luscious cleavage. “Honey, I think I’m ready. Let’s have a baby.” Jay nodded stupidly. “Yeah… Okay.” The bull grinned and suddenly jerked his hips forwards and let his dick slap Jay’s face. “Cheer up, boy!” Micaela showed genuine shock when it happened, and she was glad to see it made it into the final footage. Jay just stared helplessly, unaware that such a thing was allowed. His lip twitched and the beginning of tears showed in his eyes, but Micaela reached out and ruffled his hair. “Darling, you’re too shy. Relax. You were the one that wanted a baby, remember? Why don’t you give Daddy’s cock a good luck kiss before we start?” She brought the stiff BBC before Jay’s lips and held it out. “Go on, for good fortune. You don’t want us to have to do this again, do you?” Tony suddenly slapped Jay’s face. “Go on, kid!” The good little beta closed his eyes and leaned forwards until his painfully puckered up lips gave the black shaft a disgusted kiss. Even as they were filming it that day, Micaela knew Jay was truly one of the sleaziest cucks she had ever dealt with. A lot of desperate white guys could be pushed into watching their perfect girlfriend get rammed by BBC for the hopes of sloppy seconds. But to kiss a dick in porn just for the hope of getting some? The slut must’ve wanted Micaela so much that not having her hurt more than anything else. With her “husband’s” blessing now acquired, Micaela dropped to her knees and started worshiping the bull’s incredible BBC, taking it between her palms as she brought it up to her lips. Her kisses covered the entire length of the shaft, then her tongue came out and followed it all the way down to the head, which she proceeded to nuzzle against her lips as if she were making out with his dickhole. Both hands were needed to get a proper grip on his mandingo dick as Micaela took it into her mouth, the head so big that it instantly filled her mouth and stretched her cheeks.   Taking that old black cock in her pretty little white mouth and feeling it stretch her out was an amazing experience even at the time, but seeing it now on film, relishing the contrast between his ebony physique and her porcelain limbs was immensely satisfying. Interspaced with footage of her proudly loving on his BBC were shots of her doing it as Jay watched right beside her, his own hand hesitatingly passing over his crotch and the little white dicklet throbbing underneath. Micaela spit over his dick and licked every inch until it dripped and glistened and Tony brought his hands down to make her deepthroat it properly. “There you go,” he said, forcing the immense shaft down her throat. Micaela was enough of a pro to take it without gagging, but even for her, the powerful throbs combined with the bursting veins on his dick and its general size nearly got her to spit it back out. Almost. In fact, she did so well that it was the bull that finally buckled and laughed, saying that he needed to sit down. The old man probably hadn’t come properly in some twenty years and saved himself for the occasion. Well, Micaela was planning to take every drop for the camera. Tony stretched down on the grass as Micaela ran her fingers over his stomach and buried her face in his balls as his shaft sat across her face. The camera caught the way it pulsated like supernova about to blast, only moments away from splurging his load across her face. “Nuh-uh-uh.” Micaela lifted his dick up with a single fingertip and held it out. “Before you can come over my face, you’re going to need to fill my womb. I want to have your black baby. I need it.” Her eyes found Jay. “Isn’t that right baby?” He watched her worship the BBC so breathlessly and was so horny that he just nodded like she had just said the most natural thing in the world. “Absolutely.” That may have been a weak moment, but now it was recorded for all posterity, for all the viewers to see what white beta males acted like in the presence gifted black gods. Micaela gave the towering and majestic BBC a few more kisses, then rose and took off her bra and panties, revealing her dripping pussy and tender perky breasts to the camera. She steadied herself as she dropped down on his cock, first robbing the engorged head against her pussy before she let it go in and impale her as she dropped down greedily. Her back arched and a guttural moan escaped her mouth. The monster started ripping through her as it passed inside and Tony grabbed her by the waist to get a hold on her white body as he pushed his BBC as deep as it would go into her stretched-out little hole. It looked gorgeous on the TV, her pristine white body undulating in the sun as she rode him senseless, sweat dripping down her tense back as her snatch took in the immensity that was his throbbing BBC. “Fuck, girl, you feel good,” said Tony, smacking her ass again. He marked her as a master might do with a slave, and camera zoomed in on her red ass as it bounced up and down his dick, her juices flowing down his heavy ball sack. “God, it feels good!~” Micaela cried. “Big black cock feels so much better…” Jay bit his tongue as she made the comment, then she reached out to stroke his face and grin. “Sorry, baby, but it’s true.” She took his fingers and held him as she went on smashing down into Tony’s powerful shaft, squeezing her white cuck in her grip as he was forced to watch her getting all her satisfaction from a superior man. To anyone watching, it looked like the most natural thing in the world. A strong young woman choosing to breed with a superior alpha male while her beta partner was forced to comply and assist. But considering the shoot was going to be plastered on every porn site there was, there were zero chances that Jay’s family wouldn’t see it. His parents, his relatives, his friends… Even if it was just acting, he was there, holding a white girl’s hand while an old black guy took her to town. “Shit, baby… You’re so deep!!” Tears of pleasure welled in her eyes; her mouth just stayed open and drooled stupidly, her mind getting sucked in and lost in a sea of pleasure. At the time Micaela wasn’t aware that she looked so dumb, but watching it on the screen made her look like a dumb fucktoy that was one second away from going full ahegao and making peace signs to the camera… which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had done all sorts of drugs, but nothing rivaled the glorious feeling of surrendering her young white pussy to a godly black cock.   The old man was enjoying himself more and more and she knew he was getting close just by how fast and intense the throbbing of his shaft was getting. He suddenly grabbed her and pushed her onto her back, then got on top of her, spreading her legs wide and pinning them against her delicate titties. Micaela told him she wanted a baby, so he put her in a mating press. In truth, going by the crazed look in his eyes, it was doubtful that he ever fully understood that they were filming a scenario rather than acting out a real scene. All he wanted was to impregnate her white womb. “I’m going to give you a fucking baby,” he sputtered excited, his spit spraying all over face. Watching it now, Micaela was a little surprised by just how small and weak her voice became in those moments. Even though she liked to think of herself as a great fuck, on camera she came across just as another whimpering white girl that met her match when she asked to be dominated by black man. At the end of the day, every snowbunny responds to the same way when their insides are torn to shreds by an alpha male. Micaela couldn’t even recall what happened as she came, but now she could see it: her eyes rolled back completely, and a little girl’s desperate coo sounded from her contorted face as her tongue lolled out in the bright sun. The video closed off with Tony pulling out of her and her creampie spilling copiously, then bringing his dick over for her to suck off. Jay just watched as her lower body kept jumping and jerking from the terrible orgasm, as if she were still coming… BLACKED Micaela crossed her arms and bobbed her head. “It could’ve been better, but I think it’s okay.” Jay shivered where he sat, his psyche damaged beyond repair. “T-They showed my face… I thought I was going to get blurred… You said…” “I guess they forgot,” said Micaela with a devilish grin. The dumb cuck was losing his mind at the thought of every person he knew watching this. What would his mother say when her own ring flashed as Micaela stroked that beautiful black dick? Gifs and webms would be spread all over, and no doubt the story would come out too. “Young white guy humiliated by real life girlfriend during shoot.” Oh, the incels on 4chan were going to let him have it until he potentially killed himself. Any chance at a respectful life was over. But to top it all, Micaela noticed a dark spot on his crotch. The little beta must have been overwhelmed by all the stress, and combined with the sight of a real man tearing her apart it made him lose it. Micaela couldn’t suppress hey feyish delight, but tried to hide it. “Oh my god, did you just… Did you just come in your pants? Wow, that’s so pathetic.” Jay quickly tried to cover it up. “N-No…” he stammered. “T-That’s n-not it…” “Holy shit, how much of a cuck do you have to be to come to something like this? I knew you were pathetic, but this is just too much for me. Get out.” His clammy face turned to her. “W-What? No! Micaela! Think about what you’re saying! We’re going to get married.” Micaela slapped him like a bitch and then even kicked him for good measure. It sent him to the ground where he belonged, then her toned leg kept kicking as he crawled and slithered all the way to the door like a maggot. “That video is the closest you’ll ever get to me in your fucking life, you white beta loser. So, enjoy it.” “Micaela, please…” he sobbed, a path of tears staining her floor. “You can’t. I have nothing. Only you.” Another kick sent him flying out the door and she gave him a final glance from the doorway. “No thanks. A beta like you can’t offer me anything.” “M-Micaela… I’m still locked up… And my ring…” “You mean my ring? That shit ain’t yours, buddy. You gave it to me, remember? I earned it.” She winked. “And anyway, why would I unlock you? You can come just fine, it seems. Not like you have any use for that tiny clitty anyway.” Jay looked at her as she stood there in the threshold, her perfect body silhouetted by the light spilling from within as her face remained in total darkness. “God, and I want to fuck so bad tonight. I guess I’ll just call up one of my black friends.” “MICAELA!” With that, she slammed the door shut. She laughed giddily and got herself a drink, though he was still sobbing by the door when her bull arrived. Micaela could hear Jay’s final cries and moans as the shit got beaten out of him, the sounds of him leaving her life forever. As she brought the glass up to her mouth, the shine around her finger reflected in her eyes. It truly is a gorgeous ring, huh?

[muchadoaboutbucky]

Love Thy Neighbor - 1

Set post-Endgame: Bucky’s got a crush on the girl next door. 

PAIRING: Bucky x Native American!Reader WARNINGS: slow burn, minor anxieties, eventual smut

read the rest of this series on patreon

“Hey, we got a mission.”

Bucky jerks awake, shoving his hair out of his face. His eyes are heavy with sleep, and the sun’s shining heavy through the thin curtains. Alpine, disturbed by her master’s movements, shoots Sam a glare and curls back up on her pillow, tail curling around her feet. 

“What time is it?” Bucky asks blearily.

“Almost nine, you missed your run.” Sam snaps his fingers. “C’mon. Fury wants us to report in ten.”

Bucky grumbles, fighting the urge to burrow back beneath his comforter and fall back asleep. He’d had a hard time falling asleep, eventually drifting off after downing several extra-strong tablets of melatonin that are still trying to work their magic.

He stumbles out of bed, reaching down to graze his metal palm over Alpine’s sleek white fur. The cat purrs lowly and rubs her head against his fingers, and then resumes her nap. In the bathroom, he runs his toothbrush through his mouth with closed eyes and splashes cold water on his face. He doesn’t bother putting on street clothes; he’ll only have to change when they leave the house and his sweats are more comfortable than they need to be.

They get assigned to Paris. A black-market arms dealer is set to sell a truckload of guns and ammunition to a suspected terrorist cell, and with less than two days on the clock until the deal is set to go down, they have to hurry. Luckily, Bucky keeps an emergency go-bag under his bed, and he’s just stepped into his boots when he spies Alpine still snoozing.

Someone needs to keep an eye on her.

“I gotta find someone to watch Alpine,” he says while Sam’s lacing his sneakers in the living room. 

“What?” Sam cranes his neck to look up into Bucky’s anxious face. “C’mon, man, she’s a cat. She’ll be fine for a couple days.”

“What if it’s longer than a couple days?” Bucky swallows. “Someone needs to put her food out and change her water.”

“We’ll be back by Thursday.” Sam stands, arms folding across his chest. He only holds firm for a few seconds, until Bucky’s eyes go wide. “Okay…” he gives in, “ask Y/N. Since you didn’t see her this morning, might as well make up for it.”

Bucky’s cheeks go red. He looks down at the floor as Sam passes him on his way to the hallway closet. “I didn’t… she doesn’t—”

“Dude, stop pretending you don’t have one of the biggest crushes of all time, it’s painful.”

Bucky’s gut twists as he pulls his spare key to the apartment from the front pocket of his duffel bag. “I just… she’s nice, that’s all. Not a lotta people look at the guy who used to be the Winter Soldier and think good things, y’know.”

“You got exonerated in a court of law, nobody in their right mind thinks you’re guilty of anything.” Sam heads into the kitchen to grab a protein shake for the jet ride. “Especially Y/N.”

“I know.” Bucky sighs. “I’ll… I’ll be right back, I’ll see if she’s home.”

He drops his bag on the couch and heads out the door. It’s a brisk morning, and he zips his jacket up, tucking his hands in his pockets as he walks to the next door down. His heart is pounding in his chest, because he knows you have a security camera and he doesn’t wanna look like a creep knocking on your door when you’re not home. 

Within seconds, however, your door swings open. You’re wearing a baggy AC/DC tee shirt and a pair of leggings… the ends of your hair are wet. You must have just showered. 

“Hi, Bucky,” you chirp, flashing him a brilliant smile that makes his knees weak. “I missed you in the park this morning.”

He swallows the sudden dryness in his throat. “Overslept,” he excuses. “Look, I… I hate to put this on you, but my friend and I got called out for a job and we… or I need someone to…”

God it sounds stupid. So, so stupid… he’s a grown man with a cat, what the hell is he doing?

You lean against the doorjamb. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if you could watch Alpine for a few days,” he blurts out. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I can do that.” You smile again, and Bucky’s stomach untwists. “When will you be back?”

“Thursday…” Bucky tries as best he can to muster a confident smile as he holds the key out in his flesh palm. “She just takes dry food, her bag is under the kitchen sink.” Bucky’s breath hitches when your fingers graze his skin. “So… I’ll leave a list, I guess…”

“Or you could text me?” You tug your phone from the pocket in your leggings. “What’s your number?”

He can barely speak. He’s been dying to ask for your number for weeks now and here you are just brazenly offering it up. He takes a solid three seconds to remember the digits, and he rattles them off, watching as you type his name into the little section and add one of those little emoticon things… the sun.

“I just sent you something,” you smile, “so you got mine too.”

Bucky almost pukes. “Okay,” he stutters out, “she’s got food and stuff for now, but just later today…”

“Got it.” You slip your phone back into your pocket. “I gotta get ready for work, but I’m off at six. I’ll pop by and feed her.”

“Thanks.” He swallows thickly. “Really, thank you, it means a lot.”

“It’s no problem.” You swipe your tongue over your lower lip. “Have a safe mission, okay?”

He bows his head, trying as hard as he can to stop from blushing. “I will. Thanks again.”

You close the door, and he turns on his heel, hiding a grin in his coat collar as he heads back to his own apartment.

***

The mission goes easier than either of them thought it would. They’re in and out of Paris in less than forty hours, and they take the opportunity of their “undercover-ness” to scout out a few local shops in search of something good to eat and a few souvenirs for their efforts. 

Bucky doesn’t shop for himself beyond food. He has no need for little trinkets. Sam can browse all he wants, but Bucky tries to think of something that you might like. One shop has it all: a ton of Eiffel Tower ornaments, candies, T-shirts… at one point he catches himself sniffing tentatively at a lavender-scented soap bar.

No, no way. Way too personal. 

In the end, he settles for a little snowglobe. It’s small enough to fit in his bag, and he makes his purchase while Sam’s still trying on sweatshirts.

They get in late on Thursday night, just as Sam predicted. Bucky sends you a text when they land at the airport, and the Avengers’ private car has them back at the complex in no time at all. The light is on in your apartment when Bucky gets to the fourth floor, and as soon as Sam’s vanished into their apartment, he knocks on your door. It only takes a few seconds to answer, and Bucky’s heart catches in his throat when you open the door, beaming up into his face.

“You’re back early,” you say, smiling widely. 

“Yeah, uh… mission went quicker than we thought.” Bucky swallows heavily. 

“I just filled Alpine’s bowl an hour ago and cleaned out her litter box,” you reply, almost completely unfazed by his awkwardness, “and I bought her a little catnip plant from work, I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Oh, you, uh... “ he clears his throat, “you didn’t have to do that, the litter box, I mean, I—”

“It’s no bother, my mom was a veterinarian, I’ve dealt with way worse.” You fumble for something on the little table behind your left knee and hold up the little bronze key. “You might need this back.”

“Thanks.” Bucky pockets it without really thinking—the touch of your hand on his matters more. “Oh, I got something for you,” he blurts out, unzipping the top pocket of his bag and fishes out the little snowglobe. “Just as… well, a thanks.”

You accept the little trinket, blushing furiously. “I love it,” you reply, “thank you.”

God, Bucky wants to kiss you so bad…

“D’you wanna get coffee?” he asks suddenly. “Or see a movie? That is, if you don’t y’know, have someone already, I don’t wanna intrude.”

If possible, your face flushes even more. “I-I’d like that,” you stammer, “a movie sounds good. Um… when are you free?”

“Saturday?” Bucky shrugs. “The place downtown has cheap tickets on Saturdays.”

You nod. “I… I can do that. I get off work at six again.”

Bucky chews on his lower lip. “I’ll come by for eight?”

“That works.” You smile awkwardly. “I, uh… I should probably let you go get some rest, huh?”

“Yeah.” Bucky takes a step back because if he doesn’t make some space he might just kiss you right then and there. “I can text you, yeah?”

“Totally, yeah.” You run your fingers through your hair and match him, stepping back into the little entryway. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you Saturday, then?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.”

You close the door, still blushing furiously, and Bucky walks into his apartment thinking of a million ways that could have gone wrong. 

“I bet you were smoother than that in ‘43.”

Sam’s standing in the kitchen, smirking as Bucky drops his bag by the door and kicks his boots off.

“Shut up, I’m outta practice.” He shrugs his jacket off and hangs it on the rack. “Did you really hear all that?”

“We’re neighbors, I can hear everything.” Sam grins and pulls fixings for a turkey sandwich from the fridge. “Look, man, you’re trying to fit in. It’s a good thing.”

“I know.” Bucky sighs. “I didn’t even know if she was gonna say yes.”

“Well, she did.” Sam slaps the top layer of bread onto his sandwich and gestures to the plate. “Want one?”

Bucky shakes his head. “If I eat, I’m gonna puke. I’m just gonna go to bed.”

Sam watches him shuffle silently down the hallway and into his room. Alpine’s snoozing on her bed by the window, and she leaps off when Bucky closes the door, eagerly wristing around his ankles and purring happily. 

“Hey, girl.” Bucky reaches down to rub his knuckles against the top of her head before changing into a pair of flannel pants. He’s exhausted and stressed, and his chest feels tighter than it should. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he rests his head in his palms, taking long, deep breaths to try and ease the tension. Sensing her master’s distress, Alpine rubs herself against his side, and Bucky only breaks his position to give her a habitual pet across the back before slipping into his bathroom and downing five tablets of melatonin. His system will kick it in within a few minutes, and he slips beneath the covers as Alpine curls up on her designated pillow.

“Everything’s gonna go smooth, right?” he asks. “I can do this. It’s just a girl, nothing to be scared of.”

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated :)

MARVEL TAGS: @beefcakebarnes​ @breezy1415​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @mariekoukie6661​ @meganwinchester1999​ @suz-123​

[contaiinedarmageddon2]

Another day in another timeline Sollux had a different Aradia over. Not only was she quite tall, over ten feet plus her horns, but she was, as she likes to say, a proud fat nerd. And like any respectable nerd she was camped infront of the tv laying on her rug covering gut as she played his game grubs. Her even larger ass rising above her, the immense grey boulders taller than troll completely engulfing her underwear, while her pitiful excuse for a skirt was bunched up on her back

"Sollux! Im horny, come fuck my ass!"

"You're always horny, you get caught in doors almost as much as tv does! Anyways what do I look like, a bang maid?"

"No, but only because you won't wear the outfit. 0n0 Besides its not like your doing anything other than jerk off your diffidence excretor!"

"It's your outfit! If you won't why should I? Anyways I'll have you know I'm up to your spheres in a project right now, try a little patience."

Aradia grunts and just psionically pulls Sollux over, monitor tower and all, which is easier than it sounds considering Sollux is only several inches tall. Taking off his pants she psionically caresses his bulge, electric sparks of pleasure zapping along its expanding length, getting the monster length worked up and hard. His hardware was plopped atop her twin moons, in easy reach, while he was pressed into her deep crack, already troll devouring in size to normal trolls to Sollux it was if the ground itself split apart and beneath it was ass.

And for good measure she also freezes his arms until he gets to work.

((Decent sized prompt below the cut, nsfw))

Most nights, this would’ve been a perfect scenario for Sollux. An Aradia chatting him up trying to get into his game grub collection? Could hardly tell her no. Unfortunately, two miscalculations followed. One, attempting to set a specific date with a Time player juggling a limitless amount of different dates all at once instead of just saying the night you were going to be busy. Two, that rather than patience she would have a libido as big as her ass. As his slightly over half a foot frame was yanked airborne, all he could think was that if he missed this deadline she owed him a rewind.

Where she learned to do it was a mystery to him, but it was hard to cross your arms and scowl when someone is practically vibrating your dick. Sollux closed his eyes and took steady breaths, trying not to think about her biting her full lips as a blush crept across her face at the feel of her mental constructs wrapped around his monstrously disproportionate shaft... Dammit he was failing miserably. At least there was no Serket around to make quips about him being 8″ 8′

Sollux opened his eyes only to briefly see the great cleft in the vast moonscape reaching out to welcome him, before darkness once again as he crashed down into their gelatinous embrace. Without his arms to brace with, rather than settle onto or slightly wedge at the top of the crack like his computer had, the weight of his prodigious endowment given momentum by Aradia herself dragged him downward into the cleft. Eventually the way each fat cheek rested against the other created enough resistance to stop his descent, helped by his rapidly hardening bulge touching down against her backside deep below.

For Aradia this was enough to draw a small pleased sigh. Sure she had toys, but she couldn’t even fully reach back there without her psionics! This was real, and she planned to savor the feel of every inch of it pressing back against her elephantine cheeks and twitching with vitality... Or maybe that twitching was Sollux struggling not to be further consumed. Aradia might’ve forgotten he’d probably need leverage to get much done even if his dick had agreed to her demands. She gave a quiet apology and freed his arms, feeling his hands gripping her as the yellowblood pulled himself back up. Maybe some other time she’d like to feel the rush of silencing Sollux’s griping by stuffing him nice and deep between her pride and joy, but for now Aradia wanted them both to relax and both to enjoy each other.

Back on top Mt. Megido peaks and unaware what the future may have in store, Sollux was back into the light and holding onto his computer almost like a life preserver. As if to further add to the analogy he heard Aradia give a smug little laugh and begin slowly tilting from side to side. It took a few seconds for the effects to even reach Sollux on top as he was, but the world became a tilting theme park ride as Aradia’s ass began wobbling and pitching from side to side. Sollux had to keep hold of his electronics to keep them from flying off but was himself anchored firmly in place. Said anchor was being squeezed and kneaded by the shifting walls of Megido meat as she toyed with him.

“Enough stalling Captor! I can still play if I’m on top you know.”

He could almost hear the damn emoticon. Fine, he wasn’t getting out of this any other way, sometimes you just have to fuck a time goddess. Braced (and occasionally even able to type on) against his computer and thoroughly hotdogged to hardness Sollux found his mark and started to push. Despite eagerness and countless toys training it, the greedy rustblood’s pucker still gave some resistance to her newest toy’s first thrusts. At last being filled how she’d craved, Aradia let out a moan of both relief and pure lust.

Each thrust took the yellowblood a little deeper. The soft, squeezing canyon of her asscheeks traded for the incredible tightness inside her. Practicality kept him from slamming his hips with reckless abandon. If he put too much into it he might start sinking into that vast ocean of soft grey, plus he might be giving into to both of their base desires here but he still had to try and not lose completely. Still the size of the cock steadily plowing into her transferred a great deal of force no matter how casual the strokes were. Laying atop the pudgy cushioning of her own belly, Aradia slowly started to slide back and forth with each pounding movement. This rhythm helped force even more of her partner’s impossible shaft deeper into her while she panted and bit her lip, now having to try and force her attention back to her own gaming.

So the two continued into the night, casually competing to see who could force the other to give up on their secondary pursuit. Sollux occasionally wondered if he had seen the moon move past his window more than once. Aradia gave her ass a psionic slap powerful enough to set it jiggling for the next few minutes if she caught him slowing down to think instead of fucking her.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Strawberry Icecream.

Dean misses Cas.

Well, sue him for having feelings about his very awesome boyfriend, who is currently living out his highschool dream in Washington, interning at the frigging White House. 'They're very lucky to have you', Dean had said, sincerely, to a very white-faced Castiel, in a student blazer. 'I just hope they let you come back home, when you're done'. And the latter had smiled, in spite of himself, and planted a chaste kiss on Dean's lips.

That was the last time he'd been kissed in the past six weeks. Not the longest span of all time, but it sure feels like an eternity.

It's not just the feeling of lips on his; that shared softness, the sweet ecstasy of such intimacy. The shuffling closer and the teasing apart, the hums of pleasure and all the infinite sparks everywhere. It's not just Cas's kisses he misses. It's Cas.

It's all of him. It's the morning snark, and the having someone to surprise with coffee in bed. It's the checking-in at lunch - they obviously still do that, but those bastards give him only enough of a break to text, and the going shopping for groceries, almost daily, (Cas would have said, it's because they're both really bad at shopping, and also have a tendency to speed-eat through everything, if they've got the stuff at home.) It's the dinners - it's not nearly the same thing, when you're the only one snickering at the sitcoms, through a mouthful of pizza. And it's the going to sleep, together, and wrapped around in all the most perfect ways.

Fuck, Dean misses Cas so much, it hurts.

He hates that he wasn't able to join him in the capital - since bunking twelve weeks off a year, is the kind of dumb thing Dean would've done for someone like Cas, but wasn't allowed to, because that's who Cas is. The sonuvabitch had rolled his eyes in a partial reprimand, when Dean had hinted at it. 'Oh, Dean'. He'd said, in that beautiful fucking voice of his. 'I'm going to be back so soon to ruin that bachelor's life you'll get used to again; you have no idea'.

Well, to hell with that. Dean had learned to dig the committed scene now, okay? He didn't like living alone in their apartment, any more than he liked sleeping all up on Cas's side - trying to bury himself and fit in the impressions on the mattress.

It was a weird life he lived.

He didn't even have any pending deadlines, for a huge fucking change, because most months of college when Cas is around is spent regretting all of his life choices - times when Cas is right there, so warm and delicious and amazing, and Dean has a stupid essay due Monday so he can't join him in bed.

Without too many things to do, but drag himself to every class he's taking, literally everyday - he's this sort of unbelievably punctual these days, which makes no dense - he has way too much time to long.

Dean curses silently at himself at his own trail of thought - a rather sad, long monologue, indeed - and especially his choice of words. Makes him sound like a war widow for Christ's sake, and his man is just a few states over. Kicking ass, for the US government - among other, more boring stuff he has to do.

And that's usually where he stops thinking. It's where he picks himself up from the couch, and sits at his desk with a Mechanics textbook instead - or somedays, it's where he goes over to his neighbor's, to simply hang. Charlie Bradbury recently moved in across the hallway. A complete dork, of the kind to battle his stupid brother - but incredible at taking his mind off of other things. (It was impossible to be discussing Star Wars ships with her while missing Cas.)

But today, he does something different. Instead of shoving his loneliness away, and adding it to the pile of feelings he has built his throne on - read, is sitting on presently - he picks up his phone. Unlocks the screen to Baby staring back at him with blaring, truly picturesque headlights that is Dean's wallpaper - and clicks around till he has opened his chat with Cas.

The last thing they'd been talking about was how Cas's deskmate listens to a lot of Korean music, and he's kind of falling for BTS himself - Dean had asked him, perfectly serious, if he needed to show up at his workplace, to serenade him with Led Zepp as drastic times call for drastic measures, and Cas had sent a laughing-with-tears emoji and added, that he was sure Dean would enjoy them too, and that he'd definitely make Dean listen to it when he got back. The only unread message he had, was a song rec, which Dean rolled his eyes at. The only way he was going to "fall" for a modern-day boyband ever, is if Cas was right by his side, telling him to do it.

Dean's thumbs click-clacked on his phone keyboard until he'd typed it out.

I miss you.

But who was he kidding? He wasn't going to send that. Or say that. At least, that wasn't what he was going to lead with. The reluctance was half-ways Dean's internal hesitation, for unexplainable reasons, and also knowledge of the fact that such a blatant confession would tell Cas just how devastated Dean was, on this end, and he'd probably fly back the next day to check on him. The thought brought a random pricking sensation in his eyes, but he ignored it.

He erased that.

>>> hey, what are you up to?

He hadn't expected an instant response, so he immediately leaped when he got one. A smile, brighter than any that'd made it to his face today, showed up at the pleasant surprise, that Cas was around his phone and probably available to text.

<<< nothing much. got home ten minutes ago.

To read 'home' in any context, than to talk about their apartment with him in it, here at Stanford university - was all sorts of revolting, but he swallowed his first reaction.

>>> half day? did you have food??

<<< yes, to both.

Dean thought of what to say next, miserable because he was bad at this - dammit, conversations always flowed when Cas was in front of him, but he'd never been good at texting - but thankfully, Cas went on.

Dean sighed, softly. Imagining that gave him another smile.

<<< hey, guess what I'm up to?

>>> nothing much.

He pinched his brows together, as he squinted. Would Cas be able to hear him tease, from his words alone? He must, right? Unlike him, Cas was always a good texter. 'Emoticons', he'd just vaguely justify it.

<<< what I'm up to NOW, is smiling

<<< but I'm also getting something to eat. What do you think I'm having?

Dean bit his lip, thinking about it. It's probably like four, in the afternoon, because he's only been wallowing in his misery for an hour before he's texting Cas. That's like a couple hours after lunch for Cas, which means this is probably a late dessert.

That makes sense.

>>> pie?

But then, he thinks about it, and how Cas loves potatoes enough to have them for most meals these days. And he used to frown over Dean and burgers, while gorging on his new love, the world's unhealthiest vegetable, first thing since he got out of sight.

>>> does it involve potatoes?

He sends in, last minute. But perhaps Cas was already typing out his answer, because his message hasn't even been read when he receives another message.

<<< STRAWBERRY ICE-CREAM WITH CHOCOLATE SAUCE BECAUSE I AM A CRIMINAL OF MANKIND

Dean takes one look at that, and is suddenly collapsing on the couch in a fit of laughs. He melts spontaneously, and his phone falls on the carpet, as he bends over, laughing. He can't help it, the image is just too perfect.

Cas yelling those words, at the top of his lungs - that's what all-caps mean, right? - in his deep, gorgeous baritone - looking all rebellious about the last part, just like he can be some days. That ridiculously adorable scrunched-up nose, and that stubbornly jutted-out chin with a defensive glare, which is also meant to stand it's ground in a fight, and just -

It's too perfect.

He imagines Cas in front of him, and he imagines that everything is perfect again - he's right there, and he's pouring his stupid chocolate syrup over a bowl of pink ice creams plentifully, all the while being smug because he's basically breaking societal norms, and just being so fucking proud of himself with that tiny smirk and the pout he'd have, and his -

Fuck, it's hard to even think about it, without getting a goddamn attack about how much he misses Cas.

<<< Dean??

<<< This is the part where you tell me that if that's a crime, you wanna share that cell with me ;)

Dean is pretty sure that in that moment, he dies. He can almost feel the moment his spirit leaves his body, because he's frozen for a full minute - stunned by the amount of love he has in him. His heart is brimming over with emotions, and every string in there is screaming for Cas, in the name of love.

He's known he loves Cas for months now, but he's never fallen so hard for someone.

Yet it only makes sense, in fucking leaps and bounds, that it's Cas. Who breaks all those limits. Who turns Dean into mush, who breaks all his limits, who owns every square inch of Dean and his heart, and who just makes him melt.

It's not even an incredibly romantic dialogue. It's childish, and hilarious, and just so Cas, that all of Dean aches at once.

>>> you're sorta wrong

It's a wonder that Dean can even keep holding onto his phone at this point. He's basically a puddle of emotions, a mess of feelings, letting every current of love wash over him and deride his boundaries, just a little bit more. He's suddenly euphoric; it's like he's seeing his situation from an elevation now, and he doesn't care about anything else - the whiney voice in his head reminding him it's gonna be another six weeks can go screw itself, because Dean loves Cas so much, nothing else can possibly matter.

>>> this is the part where I say I love you

It will always work out. Distances will go away, and Cas will return, and Dean will get to hold him again, and he'll get to kiss him again, and call him an idiot, and then bring him coffee again.

And what else could Dean Winchester ever really need?

***

Notes: Oh, Sammeh. I wrote after a couple millenia. And there's so many people who've all been heartwarmingly nice about my *block* and I've been getting pretty much a lot of inspiration lately, though I haven't been writing it - but today was different. Today, I was m o v e d, and I told life to shove it's shit someplace else and cleared my brain and fucking wrote this weird-ass tiny piece of feelings.

I dedicate this to @screamatthescreen. She's my texting soulmate (in the sense, that we were made to text each other) and says the most amazing things and I love her and well, she inspired me so hard that I threw away redox and equivalents and began to type. And this came out. Thank you, Zina!!!

Since I'm back on my BS, here's a word out to the tribe: @ctrl-alt-destiel @emmii4 @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @styggtroll @adventurous-blob @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @elvenlicht @legendary-destiel @noemithenephilim @galaxy-charm @trenchcoatsandfreckles @naitia @ladywaywarddsc @zoerayne2426 @thekidsmaybealright @hellfire37 @3dg310rdsupreme @impulsivedandelion @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect I have a feeling I'm forgetting people. I should've updated my list, dammit. So sorry if I am, please just drop me a line. Taglist open, Please ask if you wish to be removed/added.

[namjoonchronicles]

beautiful, tragic | yoongi

✿ pairing: yoongi x you ✿ genre: domestic, yoongi as a husband, fluff, suggestive content, slight smut ✿ words: 4k ✿ summary: it’s hard sharing your musically talented husband with the world, and this is your story.

Stay home. He says. Watch the house. He says.

You’re stuck, scrolling idly on your phone with your drama on Netflix long abandoned on your 85” Sony LED Screen, equipped with the sound system that would surpass Dolby Surround System if it ever went on competition with each other.

Apart from the boring international celeb news, who broke up and who got divorced, the politic scene is too awry for you to read and you were not prepared for that headache so early in the day. One particular headline caught your attention, though.

Billboard Judge, Music Producer Min Yoongi Purchases USD$3M UN Village Villa In Cash.

Excuse me, what?

Screenshot. Clicking the home button on your phone, you tapped on Kakao Talk app next and ignored the messages from your ex-classmates group that has mounted to 120 unread texts and straight to ‘Fish’ ID.

You had sent him the screenshot of the news clipping, and proceed to multi-text him the following:

????????? Why wasn’t I informed?? Yoongi. What did I tell you about purchasing things without a proper discussion? Behind my back?? The nerve?? Bitch, square up when you get home. I also have watched five episodes without you. Fuck you.

Delivered. The anger had made you toss your phone to the side on the couch. This stupid huge ass house he is never in. You grind your jaws, glaring at your wedding picture on the top corner of your wall. And he dares to buy another one. You can hear him whispering a silent fuck from the distant. Fuck--is quite right, Yoongi. Your phone dings a new message in less than twenty minutes. He had machine-gunned you with replies that your phone had trouble keeping up with. You crossed your arm, scoffing at the sight of his name blinking on your screen. Oh, now you want to call me.

Volume : 70%, 75%, 85%. Netflix show has dimmed the sound of his calls and desperate texts.

He just never learns, does he? You’re starting to feel like he feeds on these little arguments like ginseng soup--has to have it when he’s unwell or deprived of something. Now that’s something you didn’t share with him. Yoongi’s work prevents him to be home as often as he’d like, requires him to befriend sketchy men and women with hidden agendas, they also constantly separate you and him--all this, you know and understood from the beginning. But like flying kites, when kites with strings tend to stray too far, and stretched too long, it snaps. Especially when you’re the one at the end of the string, holding him down to earth with a promise of a golden ring, always the one waiting for his return. When the blizzards come, the storm arrives, you gripped tighter, but there’s no guarantee that he felt the tug even if he should.

Here lies his expertise on words. Here lies the test of loyalty. Here lie your trust and his devotion. Love is a gamble, isn’t it?

It was supposed to be a surprise :( I wanted to take you there when I come home, but the news spoiled it :( :( Good news is, it’s not fully furnished and we can go furniture shopping… I know you love decorating the house :) I’ll forgive you if you watch the same 5 episodes with me later Babe? :( :( You’re still fetching me at the airport right? Right, sweetie?

He sends a screenshot of his expected arrival time, and you skimmed pass the message with a blank look. You tap the camera icon and took a selfie of your middle finger.

Fish was immediately typing…

OK, but it’s difficult with jeans on.

You gawked as you realized that he was talking about fingering you. You snarled against the screen and tapped video call button.

But it was declined. And he replied immediately.

Can’t. In a crash meeting with the staff.

You put your phone close to your lips and tapped voice recording icon. And Yoongi knows better than to play it in the midst of a meeting. You’re roasting him and for that, he’ll keep for his lullaby on the way to the airport later with his good headphones on. He gave a goofy smile on the screen when you replied with middle-finger emoticons. “God, I love her…” he stares fondly at your ID.

Flight JN1741 from Amsterdam arrives at Incheon International Airport on 2:00 PM. Passengers begin to rise from their seat before the ‘fasten-your-seatbelt’ sign was turned off. Already, Yoongi’s massive entourage are receiving calls within the moving but landed airplane. His staff is dependable but workaholics, like he is. He was just worried that his wife won’t show up because she’s mad. But he’s also certain that she will be there at the arrival. He likes that you make him nervous this way. He likes that he could mean everything to the world, and has his words as law to others, but won’t necessarily have the same effect on you. He loves the fact that you keep him on his toes and make him chase. He also loves the fact that he knows you’ll be waiting at home where he left you as he works.

Loving and having are different things.

Yoongi of all people knows the constraints of having a serious relationship in his hectic life will be hard to manage. When he couldn’t meet his lady love, he relies heavily on her profound loyalty and his blinded trust. God knows that both of you tried. Both of you really tried to keep the passion alive, never to fizzle out. But distance could make or break a relationship--and Yoongi really wanted this. This battleground he chose to live in. He was lucky to have the best of both worlds. Most couldn’t experience that. To him, the game is only over when the other stops playing.

A conversation is a conversation, even if its a fight.

He refastens his black facemask, his black hoodie and stood up as the manager asks him whether he needs a ride home or not. The 40-year-old man walks away once Yoongi said that his wife is fetching him.

“Also, hyung...can you bring the iKey to the Apple Store I bought it in? It had malfunctioned again. I left the warranty card inside the pack,” Yoongi politely asked. “Every single time we leave Amsterdam… Yoongi what did you do with it?” The manager pulls the bag out the compartment above the head. “Work I guess…” Yoongi shrugged and fiddled with the straps of his black backpack.

Most of the passengers had left the airplane. But before Yoongi leaves with his manager, something metallic clinked on his sneakers. His manager crouched down before he did and picked the object up.

“Can’t forget the ring when you’re meeting the wife...take it from me,” his manager returns Yoongi’s ring to him. “It keeps slipping out my finger, I think I’m losing too much weight,” Yoongi chuckled short and put them back on with a small wiggle. “VIP arrivals that way…” His manager pointed the way out, “Tell her we missed her around.”

Yoongi nodded, feeling rather bashful and shy. That’s right. You used to work in his entourage as medical staff. Until he had you hitched and away from the stressful job that costs you your mental health. Now, you review staffs’ health records from home and frequently, his. You fell sick prior to the world tour he led, so that’s why he had you staying home. Not that you tailed him often when he works. He just prefers you doing your own thing. His work requires a lot of movement while you had to be static in one place to finish your writing or reading. You were that hot white coat bearer with a sexy full-rimmed glasses and spoke medicine parseltongue. Every time you share a piece of medical knowledge with him or explain a medical condition, Yoongi drools like a lovesick puppy dog inwardly. He can’t wait to have you explain liver cirrhosis everytime he brings up how much he drank when he was away. That was his version of dirty talk.

But where’s my lady love? Yoongi hums. Scanning the room for any glimpse of you. Could you be standing nearby a coffee vending machine, or would you be in convenient stores searching for a mint? Or are you strolling idly in the expanse of the airport in slow, relaxed strides?

No, you’re walking straight towards him with your arms crossed from the entrance, your hair flew back at every trudge you make to close the distance between him and you. He fumbles with the strap of his bag, and a bit slouched to the side. Having to push his head back to see your face from the beak of his black cap and hoodie, while you draw in, closer and closer.

Your hand came in contact with his at the handle of his roller bag first, before you leaned up to his ear and he lowered himself down, “You and I have a lot of things to talk about.” You snatched the roller bag from his grip roughly and Yoongi watched your back getting smaller and smaller as you stormed away. He pouts at the sight and gripping his bag strap tighter, firmer. You passed an acid glance once and expect him to follow closely with a glare. Yoongi’s pouty lips slowly form a smirk and a naughty cock of his eyebrow. He really enjoys it when you’re angry.

The trunk opens with a hydraulic rise, and he helped you carry his own bag inside. It slammed shut and you dashed to the driver seat, knowing that he is often exhausted after a long flight. Engine purrs on, and your focus was interrupted by the sound of his seatbelt clicking. He’s here. He’s really home.

“Do you want to eat anything? Some fast food or anything like that?” You asked. “Yeah, but she’s driving…” He glanced outside the car window like he had said nothing explicit.

“Ha, very funny…” the car reversed and exited the parking lot with no hiccups, but the situation isn’t going to be smooth on the inside, “Don’t think that snarky remarks will get you anywhere near this coochie.”

Yoongi let out a tiny scoff to the window, shifting in his seat as the view of the city he calls home, come to sight. Miraculously, he has made it home within a month. Although the reunion was bittersweet and that he landed on soil knowing that you’re mad at him, he is well-informed by your passive behavior when you missed him the most. That much is true. And it needs no extra explanation.

How was Amsterdam?

“Cold. Great sound system… decent steak,” he answered. You smiled to yourself, noticing how much you missed his aloof response. Few words, big heart. That’s Min Yoongi for you.

“I think I made a great steak a few days ago…” you took the chance to brag on yourself and Yoongi switches to the side where you sat driving. Hands between his knees, eyes doe and soft.

“Tell me more about what you did…” he said, in a gentle voice.

“Nothing much. I proofread a medical article, cooked for myself, write a bit, stare at the 2 selfies you took last two years. Sniff your hoodie, organize your shoe collection, vacuum GeniusLab2, visit Holly at your parents. I made him this cute ass leash that I knitted on my own. He had stomach flu, so I took him to the vets. He’s okay now, though.”

“I wanted to video call more, but I didn’t have the time…” Yoongi complaints.

“You don’t remember?” You crumpled your face at the road before glancing briefly at him. You could see Yoongi’s confused expression. Head tilted to the side, his mouth opens and closes several times without a word uttered out. He really didn’t remember.

“Baby bear, you called me twice in a drowsy state…” you offered a line of explanation but the contortion on his face suggests that he requires more, “You drunk video call me to tell me you had a sandwich and fell asleep before you could tell me what was inside… Three days after that, you called me again but you were already snoring when I answered.”

“I don’t recall…” he hums.

“Anyways, whatever… that’s cute though. Also, this 3 million villa you bought, what’s the story?” you snapped, at the same time, you turn at the corner of the city smoothly.

“It’s not a penthouse like you said I shouldn’t get, so technically, I didn’t go against your words,” he sang. “How on earth did you carry 3 million in cash?” You scowled. “With many briefcases,” he retorted with a thin smile.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing because you wanted to be focused on being serious and mature. But the quick reply had you snickering. Such a matter-of-fact answer. His face lights up at your response.

“You said that we’re going to furniture shopping. Do you even have time to do that?” you stopped at the security cottage and flashed your residence card on the pad the divider retracts open.

“I knew you were going to make a dispute out of it. So I made sure Namjoon allows it,” Yoongi laced his fingers together, and made a dark chuckling sound.

“What did you do to him this time…” you felt uneasy already. The last time he wanted a day off, Yoongi hid Namjoon’s passport so the trip could be delayed for a day or two. He purchased a movie on Netflix and wanted to watch it with you.

He simply gave you that creepy smile and you already know.

“You put laxatives in his drinks, my god.” “It is my most brilliant plan of all.” “Yoongi!” “What...he said he was constipating. I am doing him a favor.”

Why wouldn’t he constipate from the amount of caffeine he had been consuming. You thought.

Everyone’s definition of success is different. Everyone’s definition of married life is also different. The married life you shared with Yoongi was entirely on a different level. There are no guidelines for marrying a music producer this world famous. So you focused on being a wife. If everything else in his life isn’t normal, then being married is.

The moment he steps inside the home he shared with you, you noticed he stifled a yawn. His eyes falling droopy at the sight of his long sought after nest.

“I’m going to get a late lunch going, and you can go lay down on the bed in your indoor clothes…” “No, I want to help in the kitchen…” “Look at your eyes, they’re barely open… go rest.”

But he wanted to unpack because he got you something.

“It’s a cross-stitch table runner…” he lays his head on his palm, curled on his side, watching your big grin as you unravel the precious gift. He remembered that you wanted to buy this the last time you were there. He got the correct design and correct color too.

“You got them custom-made,” you gasped excitedly, and then shrink your voice at him, “Thank you...it’s so pretty.” Pulling the runner into a hug while Yoongi chuckles sleepily.

Yoongi was less interested in his stories and more engaged in yours. All his relatives that he can call strangers because they rarely meet, his family members that have seen you more than they’ve seen him. He silently is grateful for you being here, being the glue between his family and close friends, an invincible knot that keeps him grounded and gave him the sense of belonging.

He drifts mid-through your stories and latest gossip. As you sat on the floor next to the bed, unpacking his luggage one-by-one, you no longer hear his response. You glanced to the side and saw him sleeping soundly. You could only imagine how many hours he could when he’s away in a foreign country. Yoongi somehow can appear to be sleeping but is in fact, listening to all the conversations surrounding him. You and he share that talent. But this time, he slept for real--the energy replenishing, body rejuvenating sleep. There’s soft snorings and little shudders from time to time. Your gaze fell from his fringes to his brows, down the slope of his nose and his doll-like lips.

Last clothing to be unpack looked familiar. It was yours. That’s endearing. He always packs one clothing that belonged to you. You know, for when he ‘misses his wife so much he could die’ moments. You don’t know when he snuck them in, but it’s probably when you’re busy at the living room, or the bathroom, making sure he didn’t forget anything. The luggage is taken away from the bedroom and into his home studio, where it stays until its service is required again--which you suspect, won’t be long.

You slid the blanket above his shoulder, and tuck him in like you would a child. He looks so tired and it breaks your heart that he has to leave again. It’s like a cycle. At least you can see him eat today, with your own eyes, so let’s get started with the lunch.

Nothing extravagant. Just broiled spinach, fermented white baby radish from last week, and warm chicken soup with ginseng to help him re-energized. But he isn’t awake yet. That’s alright, you can reheat everything when he’s up. He still needs his much-acquired sleep. With that thought, you disappear into the bathroom and undressed. Sweating from cooking, body sticky with remnants of watery expels urged you to shower before the sun is completely down. You don’t usually shower this early, but with Yoongi around, you felt self-conscious. He doesn’t know this, but you will always want to smell nice for him. Isn’t that the very core of being a wife? Being extra hygienic for the hubby? To keep him interested? Especially Yoongi, because he is constantly away and accompanied by many attractive females?

You discarded the dampened shirt outside the door of the bathroom and swung it shut as gently as you can. Off goes the bra, then the panties. The shower head expels drizzling liquid, the steam floats up to the ceiling and the glass door get fogged up from the heat. Water pools at your feet as you readied your face underneath the shower to come into contact with the sprinkles. The pleasure of a simple shower after a good sweat is ultimately unmatched.

So endorsed in your time alone, Yoongi pushes the door wider. He had come awake when he heard you turned the knob shut. He discarded his pants on the way, and pulled his black shirt over his head, charging forward like a soldier on his way to a battleground he intends to win. Then he discarded his last piece of clothing, his boxers. Afterward, he trudges into the shower cubicle where you were standing, facing away from him. “You thought I was too tired for a shower session with you?” His voice deeps lower than usual, as he snakes one arm around your naked waist, skin to skin, Yoongi sunk his teeth on your shoulder and you turned around wearing a big smile to greet him. “No I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle any sessions with me…” you smartly replied. Yoongi smiled into the kiss that began innocently enough and gradually increase in intensity and power as the seconds passed. Your arms slick against his shoulder as he held on palm flat on the walls of the shower, he stands directly underneath the shower head now--refusing to let go of your lips even when you tap out for a breath. A seasoned rapper’s lung capacity isn’t a shy away from a Navy diver. Provided with the long abstinence and accumulating want, Yoongi isn’t just going to stop here in the shower, best believe, he is going to continue making love to you in all the rooms available in this house until he’s finally sated.

His handprints on the fogged glass door is significantly larger than yours. The slippery sound of sliding skin filled your ears, and your strangled moans could only suggest an impending euphoric sensation you had longed for, since the last time he’s here. And Yoongi is a determined soul. The thrusts are languid and deep. From the way he buried his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting heavy desperate pants implies that he had been imagining this on his lonely nights for too long. His touches were too precise and calculated, coming from a veteran lover who knows his wife’s body like the back of his hand. Yoongi’s glazed orbs that greeted you in the midst of the steamy love-making, felt foreign yet familiar. But his lips that conquered yours right after the heaty glance was definitely, without a doubt, Yoongi’s. The time apart had made him a stranger to your body, and the passion that almost fizzled out from the distance had reignited to another degree.

“Fuck I miss you,” he breathlessly says against your ear. You didn’t stutter or faltered back into the lust like you used to when you first dated him. Instead, you smiled into his confessions and bit your grin--no longer shy to show how much you love having these moments with him. More, you encouraged him with your touches and sweet mewls.

I like the whispers you added at the end. She says.

No matter what the public critic might say, Yoongi’s only verdict comes from his wife. His true achievements and outcomes of his work rely heavily on what you may say. But your words can be sarcastic and Yoongi doesn’t like having to guess what you truly meant.

“You always say something like that…” “I don’t know what you want me to say,” you shrugged as you scooped out a bowl of rice for him, “I like the whisper part and that’s the truth.” “How many times did you listen to it… be honest,” Yoongi took his bowl from you.

You tipped your eyes up to the ceiling and clicked your tongue. Somehow Yoongi caught the expression.

“Are you serious…” he began, eyes following you as you pulled the chair next to him out, “Okay, fine. Do you listen more of Jimin’s Promise or my collab song?”

You added a long hum, not intending to give him the answer he wants to hear. “Technically, Jimin’s Promise came out first--”

“--don’t talk to me,” he darted.

Instinctively, you covered his knee with one palm, to soothe him. But of course, Yoongi wouldn’t let you console him that quickly.

“I spent nights writing that song while touring… Am I asking too much of you, to just listen to me more than you do Jimin’s, but no. Ultimately, I’m always the second choice for the industry AND my wife. Fine, I don’t care...I don’t want to care anymore. I worked so hard to earn money for you to spend, and all I’m requesting is that you be my harsh critic but you’re apparently too busy to listen to my songs. Hmm, I see how it is.”

“To even things out, you never told me you’re releasing a song…” you shrugged.

Yoongi set his chopstick down, clinking while you continued eating.

“To top it all, you watched dramas without me,” he tipped a glass of water into his mouth like he would a cup of soju, “Our drama.”

You knew he is just picking fights with you because to him, a fight is also a conversation.

“Gosh Alexa, this is so sad, play Seesaw,” you exclaimed with a forlorn sigh, “What do you propose I do? Wait for you until you come back? The second season would have begun by the time you returned, Yoongi… You have cities to tour, fans to meet and stages to check, and what about me? I have this house, Netflix and the chili plant outside. You’re being a little mean to me right now… my priorities aren’t always you, you know.”

Yoongi was deafened by the last sentence you said, that he couldn’t hear the rest of the off-topic conversations you promptly added after it. You didn’t seem to notice that you’ve hurt him. That’s the inspiration behind his rap verse ‘my razor tongue wife with a stone in her hand’. He likes that you’re honest and has trained you to be tougher, but the blade he sharpens strikes him once in a while when needed. He doesn’t apologize, he makes amends with his actions. He tries to be ultimately present when he’s here. When he’s home.

Like now, he sat on the floor, with a writing pad while you washed dishes.

“Turmeric powder. Can you check if it’s on the grocery list?” You raised your voice a little so he could hear from the living room. He puffed his cheeks with his cap turned backward, scanning down the awfully long list of things you needed to get for the family dinner this weekend.

“Nope,” he writes them scraggly underneath your neat writing. Then he heard you listed a number of things and gifts you planned to get before the weekend comes. Presents for your parents, and his; his nephews, his older brother’s birthday that he himself didn’t remember, a flower bouquet for his aunt who just opened a restaurant. He made a mental note to transfer a large amount of money into your account later.

“Is the villa far from here?” you asked him, wiping your kitchen stove down, spotless. “Not very… you’ll see when you drive there later,” Yoongi murmured to his chest, filling colors on the heart he drew on the grocery list, next to “Yoongi’s wife grocery list”.

“Also, I wanted to get grilled beef slices in that restaurant…” Yoongi promised to take you to the restaurant you had been wanting to go to, in two days time. Until a message from his manager came.

“...it would taste so damn good…” your mouth waters at the thought of it but when you looked across the counter at Yoongi perplexed gaze sitting on the floor there in the living room, you somehow caught what he didn’t, or rather--couldn’t say. That look could only mean one thing.

That the luggage you pushed into his studio is going to get another traveling sticker. That the restaurant trip is not going to happen. That you will be strolling aimlessly in this huge house. That you will be visiting the villa he bought alone. That your wedding picture and ring will be the only proof that you’re somehow married.

To the worldly loved, worldly known...the beautiful tragic, Min Yoongi.

Because he couldn’t keep his promise, you had him doing something similar to it. Peeking at his bobbing head, through your iPad playing Candy Crush, you smiled to yourself.

“Make sure you get all my toenails trimmed and neatened,” Yoongi lifts his head up short, sitting on the floor, with your heel digging onto his thigh as he nodded. “What color do you want for the polish?” He asked, getting cross-eyed as he hones the sharp edges of your nail, shorter.

“Your hair color right now…” “Babe, this is out of context…but” he dragged, “remember the voice note you sent me during the crash meeting with the staff?”

“The one I cursed at you? Yeah...why?” “It turns me on,” He hides his smile by lowering his face from you. What a strange yet tantalizing thought.

[maybewecandreamalittle]

My love letter to fanfic writers

My story parallels many others when I say that I grew up pretty lonely with not many friends. I had no self-confidence and my social anxiety suffocated me even on my best days. So I turned to books and TV to cope with my uncertainties and eventually discovered fanfiction. 

I averaged reading about 4-6 fics per day, ignoring my homework (please don’t do that, I was stupidly irresponsible) and I no longer had the time to let my loneliness and self-doubt fester because I was too busy trying to finish this 100k fic by midnight, just a couple of more chapters, just a bit little more. 

I can’t count how many fics I read, probably thousands at this point. All of them special and every now and then, I’ll think about a specific line from a fic I read years ago and try to find it just so that I can experience it one more time. 

Eventually the itch to write something became too much.

I wrote my first fic when I was 11. I wrote it by hand, filling up a binder before typing it on my computer. If I think about it hard enough, I can remember the first few sentences of that fic and cringe to myself as the overly self-indulgent words take up space in my head again, the messy sentences, the incorrect punctuation marks, the misused commas, and the occasional random emoticon (my go-to was always ^.^)

But I also remember the nerves and the anticipation of posting that story. I remember having my first chapter uploaded and ready to be posted and waiting an hour before doing it because I was so scared that no one else would like it. 

Because the thing about writing fanfic is that as much as I wrote it for myself, I also wrote it for other fans, hoping that what I created also fulfilled something that was missing for them. 

if I remember correctly, I think I got about 12 comments on that fic and I never felt prouder. I felt so validated and excited and you couldn’t stop me from writing. 

But then I turned 17 and experienced the ugly side of fandoms.

It was sad and disappointing to know that the thing that brought us together was also tearing us apart. 

So I stepped away from fanfiction and I was convinced there would be nothing to ever bring me back. 

Until I stumbled upon a little town with a funny name. 

There are some truly sublime stories that exist in this fandom. So many that have made me laugh, cry and ache in the best possible way. 

So many stories that are beautifully crafted, generous gifts from fans who chose to express their love with their words and time. 

These stories exist through love. 

So I thank all the fanfic writers out there. I have personally relied on fics during these uncertain times and even more so when our beloved show aired its final episode back in April. 

I love fanfiction. I love fanfiction writers. 

I see you, I appreciate you, and I validate you. 

xoxo