#...I can't even remember when I started writing it but it must have been either wednesday night or friday morning

[portalhan]

⠀ꔫ˚　༝　◌ ⌒⌒ three strikes !

↳ jeongin swears on his life that he's seen something odd between you and felix... exactly three times, in fact, but he needs more concrete proof...

PAIRING: felix lee x gn!reader

FORMAT: one shot

GENRE: college au, friends to lovers, fluff, jeongin third wheeling...

WARNINGS: brief mentions of food and being sick (just the flu bug nothing huge)

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

FAE'S NOTES: this is just a little bit half-assed... idk if i have much faith in this and i believe i can do better than this but i'm gonna post it anyway for you guys! please let me know if you have any feedback, my writing muscles have basically atrophied and i need to find my rhythm again TT

jeongin doesn't usually second-guess his closest friends like this, but something has changed. he knows you and felix well enough to know at least that.

you have always been hard to read. you're an independent, reliable sort of person, not outwardly emotional nor needlessly arrogant either—you tend to show your love for your friends through small, quiet gestures. felix, on the other hand, is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve—almost to a fault. always baking extra brownies to gift people, always going the extra mile, always looking on the bright side, even in the darkest of situations. he is as fragile as he is affectionate.

yes, affectionate. that's the word he's been looking for to describe the changes in your friendship with felix. you've been more affectionate. jeongin has always chalked it up to felix's own proclivities rubbing off on you given the sheer amount of time you spend together, but now... he's not so sure it's that simple. there have been three strikes jeongin has kept score of so far.

STRIKE #1

jeongin remembers it was a tuesday, because that's the only day of the week where all three of you shared classes. you would always sit in a row near the back of the class. he has made it a point to memorise both yours and felix's timetables this semester—as do the both of you with him—so he knows you don't usually have prior arrangements before coming to campus. you've always had a tradition of meeting in the lobby before walking to class together as a result.

so, when his phone pings with a message from you saying 'sorry innie, we're gonna be a bit late! pls go to class first, just save us seats', he is immediately struck with confusion. what did you mean, "we"? felix, uncharacteristically, hasn't said a word and it's already 5 minutes shy from when class starts. he always arrives at least 10 minutes before. how strange, jeongin thinks to himself as he trudges up the stairs to class, incredibly unfamiliar with the circumstance of having to do so on his own for the first time. he just brushes the nagging suspicion off, telling himself it was probably because of some public transport situation that's delayed you both—not something entirely uncommon.

it's about 15 minutes into the class before he sees you. the second he spots felix and you stumbling through the doors, profusely apologising to the professor for your tardiness, though, is when the same sensation of suspicion comes back. as you and felix shuffle to make their way to the seats jeongin saved for you, he can't help but notice your attire. you're wearing an oversized black shirt with some graphic of an anime printed on. jeongin's eyes squint as he stares at it, assuming it must have been a new purchase of yours. but he swears he's seen it before.

when you and felix take your seats and the professors picks up where she left off, felix turns to jeongin and apologises for being late. "we're really sorry jeongin, we owe you one," he quips, before he fishes his laptop out of his bag. the younger boy just shrugs it off as no big deal. plus, he had something else on his mind to worry about than harp on the two of you being late to class.

the dots quickly connect a few moments later in jeongin's head. felix has a shirt just like the one you're wearing. he swears he's seen him wearing it before, just last week when the three of you had gone out for dinner. it's been a shirt of his for years now, so worn down by so many uses that it has bleach stains on the sleeves, despite how much care felix puts into his clothing.

jeongin leans back in his chair and slowly, subtly pushes it back. he steals a glance at your side profile, thankfully without either you or felix noticing. there they were: bleach stains on the sleeves. upon further inspection, the shirt you were wearing looks way too worn out to be a new shirt—he concludes it must be felix's. but why would you wear felix's dank shirt to begin with? it would be weird to ask if that's his shirt you were wearing, so he decides to keep his silence for now.

STRIKE #2

this time, it was jeongin's turn to be late. the three of you had planned a picnic to celebrate the end of the gruelling semester—an idea felix suggested. he wanted it to be a potluck, so the each of you planned to bring something of your own making along.

jeongin wanted to go all out with his: he wanted to bake cupcakes, something felix had recently taught him how to. he wanted to show you his latest endeavours, baked fresh, but he didn't expect it to go sideways so last minute. he ended up showing up almost half an hour late, hair sticking to his forehead from all the sweat and cupcake frosting smeared all over the tupperware he placed them in out of haste.

when he finally spots the two of you amid the grass field at the park, he notices something... odd. he stops in his tracks to catch his breath and squints his eyes to get a better look. if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought you two were... holding hands? the sun was glaring directly in his face, obscuring his vision, so jeongin couldn't be 100% sure. but what he does know is that your figures were so close to each other they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. this isn't exactly beyond felix, who is notorious for his habits of physical affection. but it is most certainly out of character for you, as someone who prefers to keep most people at an arm's length.

jeongin shrugs it off. he guesses felix nor he would be considered "most people". perhaps it was a trick of the light. he also doesn't have good enough reason to find it entirely strange—perhaps felix had gotten through to you in that regard. he had bigger things to worry about: your dinner getting cold.

STRIKE #3

the legitimacy of the third time is still up for debate, jeongin surmises. this time it wasn't your behaviour around each other, instead more so about how felix in particular reacted.

this happened over summer break. he remembers the sun being more unrelenting than ever—40 degrees celsius to be exact, he saw on the news—so you three had just decided to hang out in your bedroom, where the air conditioning is the coolest and crispiest (according to you). jeongin vividly recalls you lying on your stomach atop your bed, while the two boys were sprawled on the floor. that is, the carpet that laid over the spot where they would usually sprawl on the floor.

it was one of those 'parallel play' days, as you liked to call them. not necessarily doing things together, but doing separate things in the presence of each other, you said one time. felix was busy on his switch playing some pokemon game, you were scrolling on your phone and jeongin was just seconds away from drifting off to sleep on felix's lap.

it's been silent for, what, almost two hours now? but you end up breaking it first. "woah," you suddenly exclaimed, brows furrowing as you read something on your screen. "do you guys remember seungmin? from calculus?"

jeongin does not move an inch aside from nodding his head, and felix just lets out a little "yeah?" though his eyes were never once peeled from the console screen.

"i think he just asked me out," you tell them, bewildered.

this, of course, elicits reactions of surprise from jeongin and felix. the former lifts himself and sits up to ask details, while the other just turns the switch off—did he even save his progress on the game?—and sits there in silence as he silently watches you and jeongin discuss your classmate's... proposition. jeongin makes a playful jab at how you could have given him the wrong idea by flirting with him, which you immediately shut down. "i've never done anything suggestive to him, i swear!" you exclaimed in full defense.

seungmin has only ever made conversation with you once or twice in class, jeongin recalls. you also never really put in the effort to get to know your other classmates if jeongin and felix were in the same classes. jeongin makes a passing comment about how seungmin could pass as your type (if you squint hard enough), but it falls on deaf ears when you and felix meet each other's gazes.

"you're gonna tell him no, right?" felix suddenly chimes in after moments of prolonged silence, raspy voice cracking just a little. jeongin snaps his head to turn and look at his friend, head tilted and brow lifted. you give felix a look jeongin cannot quite describe, and chuckle with a soft smile as you nod. "of course i'm gonna say no," you assure him. he lets out a very heavy sigh of relief, but none of this goes unnoticed by jeongin.

this is very weird, jeongin remembers thinking. you have always been receptive to potential love interests, even if they weren't necessarily people you'd normally be into. so why are you so sure now that you'd reject seungmin without even giving him a chance?

on that note, what's it to felix who asks you out? why does he have a say? plus, he could've sworn he detected some semblance of... jealousy in his question. but he supposes that could be normal considering all three of you are so used to spending time with each other. jeongin does admit to himself that he'd feel lonely if you were to be whisked away by some stranger out of nowhere. it wouldn't be the same.

jeongin has theories, maybe even concepts of a theory, but no concrete enough proof for confrontation—so far. it looks like he has to wait till he does before he can address the massive elephant in the room.

FINAL STRIKE

it finally happens when he decides to stop by your apartment with take-out. you had told your friends about falling sick the night before—alas, you have caught the flu bug. they were just textbook symptoms like a low-grade fever, sore throat and a runny nose, nothing to worry about in particular, you told them. but jeongin just so happens to pass by your neighbourhood on his usual route home from work, so he decides to drop in with some chicken soup for you as a small surprise. you had already been texting the group chat the entire day about how exhausted you were to make yourself a half-decent dinner, so jeongin thought this would be a nice way to take care of his friend.

he knocks on your door multiple times to no response. maybe you're sleeping? he looks around the potted plants sitting outside your door and lifts the snake plant up, grabbing the rusted spare key tucked away from prying eyes just underneath. he quickly and quietly unlocks the front door and lets himself in. i'll just go in, check on y/n and put this soup on the table, he tells himself as he enters. maybe text you to let you know he got you dinner.

that is, until a warm aroma of what he believes to be fresh bolognese wafts to where he is at the front door. he hears the distant clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, and—strangest of all—he hears... conversation? he can definitely hear you talking and even giggling, but he can't quite make out who the other person was. he's about 99% sure there was someone else in here, but could it be just a phone call? he sneaks down the hallway to the kitchen, the noises getting clearer as he inches closer. when he sticks his head out from a blind corner to peek into the kitchen, he sees it: felix plating a fresh bowl of spaghetti while you're sitting on the dining table engaged in idle chatter. a lump catches in his throat—what is felix doing here? and most importantly, why didn't he know of this? he felt momentarily betrayed.

jeongin just stands there in silence, unsure of how to confront you, while you and felix continue chatting. it's only when felix sets down two plates of pasta and goes in to plant a peck on your cheek does jeongin yelp in shock, which frightens all three of you.

felix squints his eyes, which widen in utter disbelief when he recognises the familiar facade lurking by the corridor. "jeong...in?" he asks, voice trembling a little from disbelief. when he says jeongin's name, you shoot him a similar look, but this one is more panicked and afraid. jeongin awkwardly steps out within view, but he puts a hand up to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. he raises the other arm to point an accusatory finger at the both of you. you swear you just heard felix gulp next to you.

"i..." jeongin sputters. "i knew it! i knew something was going on between you two idiots!"

the verbalisation of his revelation is what completely opens the floodgates, causing the entire place to erupt in complete and utter chaos. jeongin paces back and forth with the chicken soup still dangling from his fingers as he rants about how he's caught you doing "weird stuff" a couple of times but couldn't have known, about how he's been feeling a little left out recently, how you have been looking at felix funny sometimes. meanwhile, felix just begins to talk over him with near-equal (if not more) amounts of sheer panic and distress, reaching out to him to get him to calm down while explaining that this wasn't how they had intended for him to find out.

you, crippled by the shock from jeongin's unexpected appearance, just sit there, unable to do much of anything what with your flu, just silently watching felix and jeongin form a panic attack circle jerk in your own house.

"enough!" jeongin raises his voice, which immediately shuts felix up. jeong has never raised his voice. you shoot felix a nervous look.

"i thought we were best friends," jeongin utters, the slightest hint of melancholy lacing his voice. he looks offended. you've never seen him look this offended, not even when he was accused of academic misconduct that one time. "i'm happy for you, ecstatic even! i swear i am, but really? why would you keep this for me for so long?"

you decide you should talk to him—felix is very clearly out of his depth when it comes to handling intense situations like this and he's only making jeongin feel worse with all the jabbering. you stand up from your seat on the table and walk over to him, taking your hands in his.

"i'm sorry, jeongin. we... we weren't entirely sure of how we were gonna do this," you tell him, almost in a whisper.

felix scratches the back of his neck, avoiding any and all eye contact with either of you. "we wanted to keep it quiet," he admits. "at first, at least."

you nod in agreement, and turn back to look at jeongin. "you were going to be the first person we would break the news to. not even our own parents, i swear," you divulge, while you spot felix in the corner of your eye making a silent crossed hearts gesture to double down on his sincerity. jeongin's once-tense features start to ease up a bit, but not entirely. "you are our best friend. we never want you to feel like this. we're sorry," you assure him, before pulling him into a bear hug. you feel felix join from behind you to make it a group hug.

"i don't care what you guys have going on, but don't keep any more secrets from me. got it?" your friend huffs after you all pull back, feigning some sort of authority. felix chuckles at how ridiculous he sounds—being the youngest of the three, the tone just sounds alien when it comes from him. "we would never," felix tells him, reaching out to give jeongin a firm pat on the back. "i think y/n might like you more than me anyway, they're always going, 'we should call jeongin! we should send him a photo! we should—"

your palm slaps against the lower half of your boyfriend's face in protest. "we might be dating but you're on thin ice," you glare at him, before he raises both hands to surrender.

jeongin jovially chimes in to break the tension: "can i just say, i've always felt like you'd get along. aren't you glad i introduced you to each other? you wouldn't be a thing if it weren't for me, ya know." felix and you just huff in response—he can have this.

[a-hazbin-reader]

I had an alastor ask you can ignore this but what about an alastor x wife!reader where one day one of the readers old friends from their living days manifest in hell it can be angsty or fluffy but I just really wanna see how you think alastor would react to suddenly remembering that the reader had a whole different life before hell and before him

You're an amazing write and I wanna see your take on this, if not thats ok too !! Have a lovely day 🩷

Ooh this is just juicy-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being sad, Alastor being jealous

Description: 👆⬆️

Look, Alastor is a smart man who knows you had a life before you met him, before you died

He knows this, he also had a life before you

A rather violent one towards the end there, but still...

But when one of your friends from when you were alive suddenly runs into you???? It suddenly feels like that previous life is coming to slap him in the face

"Y/N? Is that you?"

The way your face lights up with familiarity and you two rush to hug each other, obviously close

It makes him...feel something bad...

The conversation with your friend starts out simple and innocent enough, the two of you catching up with each other

You introduce your husband and Alastor can tell that your friend is surprised, probably not expecting you to be shacked up with the radio demon himself

He preens with your introduction, ready to hear your friend either gush about your amazing husband or shrink away in fear of him

Or at least that's what Alastor assumes the shocked look means

But then your friend mentions something about an old flame of yours and Alastor just kinda??? Gets a white hot flash of anxiety??

You get visibly upset at the mention of them, mumbling something to your friend that Alastor can't hear because he's not listening

You're scolding your friend for bringing up someone you hardly even thought about anymore, someone so unimportant in comparison to your husband

You had someone before him?? Someone you loved and cared about before you died and became stuck in hell?

Would you still go to them now if you had the choice? No, you wouldn't, he's one of the strongest demons in hell. Why would you leave him?

Because you loved people for more than that...

Then your friend is talking to him about your life when you were alive, telling him every stupid, funny, kind thing you did

Everything you enjoyed without him in your life

He's stuck in his own head and hurting his own feelings, the smile on his face painfully tight

"Alastor? Darling?"

Your concerned voice and gentle squeeze on his arm brings him back to reality, your friend having already left without his realizing

"Are you alright? You got quiet on me and that's not like you..."

And he's back to being his charming self, squashing down his ugly emotions

"My apologies my dear~! I just suddenly remembered I must meet Rosie today!"

He's gone before you can even question it, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut

The next few days after that Alastor is distant from you even though he's trying to play it off as being busy

Everyone at the hotel can see it and think that you two must be having a fight

You have to reassure them that no, mommy and daddy aren't fighting

He's been off ever since you ran into your friend and they brought up-

...your past...

Oh that stupid man of yours

It takes a lot of work to corner Alastor, he's stupidly clever and always has an excuse to avoid you

You however, did NOT become his wife by giving up easily

One time, he even straight up turned around and ran from you

And you almost fucking caught him if he hadn't cheated and melted away into the shadows

But you manage to catch him in his radio tower, using all your demonic power to sneak up on him

He jumps at the feeling of your arms draping around his neck from behind, feeling your lips on his temple

He's missed being so close to you, he really has

"We need to talk, darling one..."

This is exactly what he's been avoiding though, trying to get his uncomfortable feelings to go away so things can go back to normal between you two

"What is there to talk about, my dear~?"

He's pulling you into his lap, uncharacteristically enthusiastic about giving you affection all of a sudden, kissing up your neck and rubbing your thighs

You know he's trying to seduce you to get out of having to talk about his feelings so you stop him, placing a firm hand on his chest

"You've been avoiding me ever since we ran into my friend."

He visibly cringes at being so obviously caught, his smile strained, sharp teeth clenched tight

"I've simply been busy, I'm sorry if I've been neglecting my little wife..."

He's going in for another kiss, but you pull away with reluctance, you're attracted to your husband after all

You pull on his cheek and sigh, hugging his neck as you lean back to look at him

"Alastor, you know I hate it when you lie to me..."

Now he feels bad, he hates disappointing his wife like this...

"I suppose I have been a bit out of sorts..."

So he does his best to explain to you his uncertainty in your life, wondering if you've simply settled for him because you died

If you would choose your old life over him if ever given the chance, or leave him for a chance at heaven with people from your old life

He won't look at you the entire time he says this, leaning into you and hiding his face in your neck

Just run your fingers through his hair, maybe rub his ears a little, and listen to him vent

He doesn't like being open and vulnerable

"Oh darling, I didn't even know what love really was until I met you. Being here in hell with you has been more fulfilling than any life I had before..."

Not him making a little deer bleat before growling out of embarrassment, clutching you a little tighter

"You wouldn't-"

"Alastor, if anybody even tries to make me leave you, I'll kill them myself."

That makes him chuckle, leaning back to finally look at you

"Oh, you twisted wonderful wife~"

He's literally immediately back to himself after that, almost as though none of it ever happened

You're always surprised by how quickly your husband recovers

Maybe it's just because he trusts you so much, your words alone were enough to reassure him of his place in your world

You meant every word

When your friend comes back to visit you, Alastor actually engages with them this time

He wants to know more about who you used to be now that his confidence in his marriage has been restored

The dude is literally walking around like he got laid for the first time

Angel...shut up...

Holds you close to him the entire time, relaxed as he listens to you and your friend go on about old times

"Wait...you jumped out of a third story window? While being chased by a man with one leg?"

"And LIVED!"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

[jayparked]

heyy live ur writing style smmm😭

can we get 106 with Jay?🫶🏻

warnings: s2l, diner owner!jay x customer! f.reader, semi public sex in a closed restaurant, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

wc: 1.4k

"i'm not on the menu."

"w-what?" you stare at the diner owner with wide eyes. he's smiling while continuing to wipe down the counter you're sitting at.

"i gave you that menu ten minutes ago but you haven't looked away from me for a second. i'm starting to think i missed a spot shaving or something."

he's so nonchalant about what he's saying to you. as if his words didn't send chills down your spine or bring a bright flush to your cheeks.

"i-...i'm sorry, jay. i must have been zoning out..."

he flashes you a playful smirk, one that screams 'yeah, sure, whatever you say'. you're grateful he drops the subject, continuing to clean as the last few customers start to leave the diner before closing time.

"you know..." jay starts slowly, "you've been coming here every week for months..."

"...yeah?" you question cautiously, eyes peering over the menu to take in his casual stance: one elbow on the counter so his head can be pillowed by his palm, the other hand still holding the washcloth.

"why do you still ask for a menu? you and i both know you don't need it. i've got your weekly cravings down to a science now. "

you chuckle and set the menu down, opting to take a sip of water just after saying, "a science, huh?"

jay shrugs one shoulder, his gaze intensifying, "rainy days it's the soup of the day. when it's sunny you want the roast beef provolone sandwich with crinkle cut fries, a diet coke, and a pickle on the side. when you have a stressful day at school you want the pancakes with extra syrup. and when it's-"

"enough!" you hold up a hand and laugh. "i get it! i like my routine, i'm predictable, blah blah blah."

"not as predictable as i'd like you to be," jay deadpans in a husked tone. your thoughts mentally trip inside your brain and you gulp a little too loudly. seconds go by without either of you saying anything or looking away from one another. you know you should say something, anything at this point, but the words just won't come out.

"why do you still ask for a menu, y/n?"

your heart is pounding in your chest so hard it physically hurts. but now that the new year has started, you remember your goal: to be more bold, more brave, and to try not to shy away from what you want.

instead of taking the leap, you opt to answer his question...with a question.

"why do you let me order way past closing?"

jay nods his head, lips jutting out playfully, clearly not expecting the tables to turn on him so quickly.

"it's the only time you can come in. you're in lectures all day. and someone's gotta make sure you're eating after all that studying." jay gets himself upright, tossing the washcloth over his shoulder and giving you another smile before turning his back to you. he walks towards the soda machine, scooping a generous amount of ice into a glass and pressing his finger against the diet coke option.

"so you're saying...that i'm not like the other customers?" you try to come off as funny, playful, maybe even a little bit flirty, wiggling your eyebrow at his back for an extra quirky effect. but he doesn't laugh.

jay turns to you once the glass is full. slowly, he leans back down again, his face inching closer and closer to yours as he moves the glass towards you. his eye contact is hypnotizing; the way you can't break away no matter how badly you want to. you look up at him with curious, searching eyes, hoping to find any hint that what you're feeling for him isn't as crazy as you think it is.

"do you want to be like the other customers?" he murmurs so softly you almost don't hear it. he's close enough that you could reach out and touch him, close enough to pull him closer, just...close enough.

"no," you sigh dreamily, "i really don't."

finally, jay's eyes flick down towards your lips, his own lips parting slightly, a soft exhale escaping them.

his gaze meets yours again, something softer, pleading, now displayed in those deep brown eyes. "may i?"

"please," you whisper, your own eyes flicking to his lips now.

both of jay's hands come forward and softly cusp your cheeks, pulling you closer until your lips collide. after a few seconds, jay smiles widely, his teeth showing while his lips still hover over yours.

"say that again," jay murmurs, his eyes fluttering as they remain closed, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones.

you can't help but smile with him, your hands shaking as you reach out to grasp his wrists and squeezing them reassuringly. "please."

"mmm, fuck. that's gonna be a problem for me later," he groans, his words rushing out of his mouth because damn, he just needs to kiss you again.

and kiss you again he does. his lips now moving feverishly with yours. his hands wander away from your face until they're on your shoulders, moving down even more until he's grabbing you under your arms and pulling you onto the countertop. now, standing between your legs, he can finally kiss you properly. one hand is back on your cheek, warm and soft while the other grips your hip tightly, bracing himself with the contact. your own hands reach out to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his dark black hair. a particular overly excited tug has him moaning against your lips, making you inhale as the sound sends ripples of pleasure down your body. he continues to kiss you feverishly, the pace of the kisses quickening and suddenly your body is not satisfied with the amount of distance between you. you need him closer. the only thing you can think of is to wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip and pulling him into you even more.

after a few more moments of kissing pass, you're both forced to separate from one another to catch your breaths. he's looking at you with blown out pupils, panting with his now swollen lips parted slightly. he's beyond hungry for you, and you love the feeling of knowing you look exactly the same in his eyes.

"let's take it back to my place." he finally manages to get the words out.

"is this not technically your place?"

"you're right. god, you're so smart." with a mischievous grin jay grabs your body and lays you on the countertop, hastily throwing your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass and burying his face in your clothed cunt while you squeal with laughter. any innocent passerby could see what the two of you are up to. jay hadn't gotten to the part of his closing checklist that includes pulling the shades down on all the windows. hell, all the lights are even still on, making a lovely spotlight for the two of you amongst the dark city streets.

but you've dreamt of this moment for so long that you don't even care.

jay has your pants off seconds later, too impatient to continue to play around. he just needs to taste you after all those nights waking up in a cold sweat, cock twitching spurts of cum into his boxers after dreaming of what you would look like sitting on his face, riding his cock, or how you'd look under him as he pounded you senseless. and now, he doesn't have to imagine it anymore. groaning as he continues to ravage you, hands groping anywhere he can reach, his tongue flicking skillfully against your swollen clit.

"j-jay. oh my god!" you cry out, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white, unprepared to come this quickly.

"my god, that's what you sound like screaming my name?" jay's standing now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before moving to undo his belt. "so much better than i imagined. you're not going anywhere tonight. you're going to scream my name until you can't speak anymore. i want that throat raw in every way possible. but for now..." he groans as he pushes the tip of his cock into your hole, stretching you in new ways you haven't felt before. your body adapts to him quickly, though, as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[koishua]

★. 𝐄𝐍— and the orange peel theory.

! © 𝗞𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗔 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗.

starring hee, jay, jake. + their version of the orange peel theory

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't think anything of it when he snaps your chopsticks in two for you from where he is positioned across you. the plastic chairs in front of the convenience store upon which you're seated on aren't the most comfortable, the sharp edges digging into your skin on occasions when you fidget around trying to find a way to strike up a conversation with the man you can't bare to label as your friend now.

the bamboo sticks now rest on top of the lid of your bowl of instant ramen, currently waiting to be fully cooked within the three minute time frame the instructions had given you. you notice how they hadn't split equally, one having snapped away a small portion of the other side with it. the irony of it all feels comical when you detach yourself from the situation you're currently trying not to run away from.

heeseung doesn't say much as you hesitantly take the broken utensil. he can only pretend to awkwardly observe the engravings in the table, occasionally glancing at the dainty chain of the necklace hiding under your collar. it had been his fingers to graze against the skin of your neck to clasp it together for you. he wonders what hurts more; remembering, or having to force himself to forget about it all?

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐘

the house is quiet, had been for hours now, except for your frantic breaths and hurried stomps while darting from room to room, trying to find your bearings as the time ticks by much too quickly for your liking. the alarms you'd set for your lecture hadn't rung (they had, actually— no one would dare to disagree, however), which had naturally resulted in you running late for it yet again.

your lips lift lopsidedly moments after the neatly framed picture of the happiest moment of your life catches your eye as you try to put on the stubborn socks you'd fished out from the drawer on your side of the bed. jay had always been beautiful, even back when he still had that boyish smirk constantly plastered over his face, hair a mess.

you make a mental note to wipe away the dust that had started to form a thin sheet over the wooden frame, though that too is quickly forgotten when you realize that he'd very kindly filled up your bottle with water and placed it next to the most comfortable shoes you owned he'd laid nearly on the floor by the door, certain of your forgetful habits.

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

layla's tail wags excitedly at the sight of the treat in your hands that you leave for her to enjoy. smoothing over the gingham sheet before laying back on the lap of your favourite person in this universe and the next, from where you look up at him, the sun blazing in the sky makes it look like he's emitting a heavenly glow. fitting for someone like sim jake.

days like this don't come by often for either of you, so having you right by him, the weather as beautiful as it could ever get. this is what he'd describe heaven to feel like. every part of his body beats with the insatiable desire to always have you as close to him as possible, day and night.

the cool breeze is a constant visitor to your little spot by the beach, a welcome addition to the already magical day. realising that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, he looks down at your serene expression, off somewhere in dreamland, most likely. his thumb gently traces under your eyes, a ghostly touch afraid of waking you up from your deserved rest. he unclips the hair accessories he can see tugging and digging into your skin before adjusting the shade to cover your eyes.

this is his dreamland.

notes from vie: couldn't help it with the hee angst y'all im sorry it's a koishua must. it was very mild tho so yeah enjoy please i haven't exercised my enha writing skills in ages and as always pls reblog muah muah ignore any errors i haven't got the energy to correct them myself 🍊🍊

[writeaboutit]

I Lied

You and Ellie met on a dating app, you lied about something minor, and she finds out (but is cute and fluffy, and a laugh is had).

Hi haven't written anything in a long while so forgive if this is absolute shite🙏🏻🙏🏻. This just popped into my head totally not based on anything real, no definitely not.

"Hey baby," Ellie greets as she walks through your shared bedroom door. She's slightly hunched over and shuffling her feet showing that she had a long, exhausting day.

You pop off the bed and wrap her in a hug. She melts into your embrace.

"You tired baby?" you question. You can feel the movement of her nodding her head against the crook of your neck. She must be really spent if she can't even say yes.

Usually, the moment she gets home from work she's either ranting about her incompetent coworkers or she's excitedly sharing a new fact she learned about that week's hyperfixation.

Her silence is a bit off-putting. You feel the need to hear her voice so you prompt her, "What can I do for you?"

The silence rings out for a moment, the only sound to be heard is your breath and hers intermingling. Then she's responding, "You know that time you told me you cooked pad thai before we started dating?"

You furrow your brows in confusion. You can recall when you told her that over text, in the dating app you met on, but you're a bit confused as to why she's bringing it up now, or why she even remembers that at all.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, wondering where this conversation is going.

"Can you make that? It sounds so good right now." She asks with puppy dog eyes.

For a moment you're caught off guard. You never thought she would ask you to make her pad thai after that conversation and you worry for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter.

Ellie pulls away from the hug and looks at you with confusion. She props her hand on her hip and watched as you double over with laughter before righting yourself and calming down.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry but I lied," You giggle again, "I tried to make pad thai but it turned out so bad. I only told you I made a good pad thai because I wanted you to think I was this sexy girl who could cook well," you let out one last chuckle when you finish your explanation.

Ellie's jaw is hanging open, "What if I was only dating you for your pad thai-making abilities?"

You chuckle at that as well. There is no way this woman is only dating you for your cooking skills, that's for sure.

"I'd say you're full of shit. We've been dating for two years and you have not once brought up my homemade pad thai." You prop a had on you hip and raise an eyebrow waiting for her retort.

She throws her head back with a laugh before enveloping you in her arms, "You're such an idiot, I love you."

You smack her arm playfully, "Hey I'm not an idiot, and I love you too."

"You're right, you're not an idiot my love." She says the last bit against your lips before connecting them.

When you break apart she looks down at you before asking, "Well now what are we going to eat?"

You shrug, "We can order Thai food for delivery."

"See this is why I love you, you're a problem solver." She places quick kisses across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose causing you to giggle.

"Okay okay get off me so I can make the order," you laugh as you push her away.

"I love you," she throws out as you walk out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah." you laugh, giddy over your girlfriend.

so yeah there ya go. idk what this was i just really need to get back into the habit of writing. this wasn’t proof read so sorry about any mistakes. i’m gonna keep writing so trust better stuff will be posted🙏🏻

[n3rdy247]

HELLOO!!

can i just get a john dory x female reader! headcanons!

john dory met while crashing the wedding and immediately started to flirt with dispite just meeting her. 🫣

THANK YOU!!

HIYAAA!! CAN YOU??? 🤔🤔🤔

girl be so fr OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!

ALL ABOAAAARD THE JOHN DORY X FEM!READER HCS!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO

Okay, so, you know the whole 'watching a cute, romantic ass wedding' plans everyone had for today? Just...watching two bergens have a nice, uninterrupted marriage?

"STOP THE WEDDING!!!"

well fuck those plans. ★ Starting off the bat, when he was literally parkouring his way down that building which just happened to be the MOMENT he noticed you from the crowd, he couldn't help but throw a wink your way right after (even though he had his goggles on, that stupid mf) which led to him face-planting to the floor because his ass was NOT paying attention to stick the landing. YIKES. ★ He also DOES notice when you are at the edge of your seat to hear what the hell is going on. Apparently, he was Branch's brother (figures since both are fine ash, MUST be in the genetics), he was in a band, and his other hot brother was in danger?

remember the wedding? yeah me neither atp

★ He can't help but steal occasional glances at you when the others talk, and when he does, his smile almost seems to widen, even if it's just for a split second. He just saw you, yet look at you go! Making him all giddy and shit inside 🤭 ★ And whenever Poppy and Branch turn their backs to discuss the whole situation, you just KNOW he would be smirking at you with a smug-ass grin, trying to strike up a conversation. Keyword? TRYING.

"Soo...come here often?" lord almighty sir THIS IS A WEDDING.

"Damn, I could really go out for some fresh air right now, because I think you took my breath away." SIR WE ARE OUTSIDE WHAT

Needless to say, this man does NOT know how to strike up a convo.

★ If you do end up getting flustered about his horrendous pick-up lines somehow, he will be so fucking proud of himself for getting a reaction out of you, and WILL keep going at it. What a charmer. (Unless you are uncomfortable with that of course, he might not know how to talk to people, but he has human (troll???) decency.) ★ I'm talking him leaning slightly closer to you with half-lidded eyes, a huge smirk plastered on his face as his voice gets lower and lower, though internally I feel like he'd be going 'LET'S FUCKING GOOOO I STILL GOT IT' since he would be a bit unsure if he was doing well in the first place. It's probably been years since he had any sort of interaction with anyone other than Rhonda so it's understandable. ★ Not to mention BROZONE. MY GOD. If you know about his band? NICE! If you don't know anything about it? NICE! Either way, this man will absolutely brag about it to you. Even if it has been AT LEAST 20 YEARS. He will absolutely talk about 'the good old days' as if it was just yesterday. Bro would probably talk about how he wrote the hits "Girl Baby Baby" and "Baby Baby Girl" on the same day. ★And who knows? Maybe at the end of the wedding when sadly he has to go to save his brother with Branch and Poppy, you'll end up getting a way to contact him after the whole thing ends. You will see him sooner than you think, that's for sure though!

(please keep in mind this is the first time I've written any serious headcanons like these and not just stuff like 'he would be a great hugger' or 'he was a 7.5-inch haver 🤯🤯🤯')

GRAAAGH I'M STILL SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS THOUGH, I STILL HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT EVEN IF IT IS SHORT AS HELL

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Your eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling.

It takes you a while to make sense of the situation. Your body feels like absolute shit, and your head is throbbing relentlessly, as if your brain's been rattled around inside your skull.

"You're awake," someone says. It isn't a voice you've ever heard before, and as you slowly crane your neck to the side, you see a middle-aged man, a doctor, leaning in closer to you.

Then you remember. You fainted while in the middle of work, and the reason your head hurts so bad is because you whacked it against the floor.

"Hello, [Name]. You passed out," the doctor says. stating the obvious. "And you're severely anemic. Have you been losing a noticeable amount of blood recently? Blood in your stool, or when you vomit, or perhaps related to your menstrual cycle?"

"I donated blood," you decide upon. You're not entirely sure why you don't tell him the full truth. That you've in fact been regularly selling your blood to vampires. Perhaps you're worried about how he may react, and you're afraid he'll try to write a medical note prohibiting you from visiting Plasma Inc. for a long time.

He frowns. "Hm. Well, depending on the person, donating even small amounts of blood can sometimes result in anemia. Still, I'd be careful if I were you. Your condition seems fairly serious, so please wait a while to recover before donating any more."

You nod absently. Just your luck. This is all shitty Felix's fault. Because he lost control of himself and ended up drinking too much of your blood. Well, you've learned your lesson. From now on, you'd stick to giving blood away in a safe, medical environment, even if it's not going to result in double the amount of money.

"I'd like to give you an iron transfusion," the doctor says. "Just to get you kick-started towards recovery."

You furiously shake your head. "I don't have insurance. Actually, how much is this visit going to be? Is it going to be expensive? Because you really could have just left me there. I think my coworker was just overly worried."

"You collapsed and banged your head on the ground," he frowns. "Head trauma is a serious matter. Thankfully, you don't seem to have any noticeable damage, but while we're at it, I'd still like to ask you a few questions just to make sure you don't have a concussion."

He goes through the motions, and even though your head hurts, it's likely just a bump that will fade in a couple of days.

"Drink this, at least," he says. "It's an iron-rich solution. If you can't pay for the transfusion, then have this, and I can at least recommend you some supplements to start taking. But even so, it might still take a while for your body to recover, which is why I suggest being careful and making necessary adjustments to your diet."

You drin the solution down, and you shudder as the metallic taste collects upon your tongue. Even though you're not a vampire, you've tastd blood before either when you splt your lip open or thoughtlessly licked a papercut. The iron n your blood gives it that distinct unpleasant metallic taste, and you briefly wonder how vampires find it so appetizing. There must be something about their bodies that changes how it tastes to them.

The doctor examines you one last time, hands you a paper with all the various supplements he recommends you start taking, then you settle the bill at reception.

Ugh. I can't believe just a short visit costs so much. And I finally saved a bit of money for once...

You feel discouraged. You've lived without insurance mainly because you couldn't afford it, and because if nothing else, your body was sturdy enough that you could get by without it: But life always finds a way to fuck you over. Just as you felt a bit of relief from knowing that you had some cash on hand, it practically all disappeared, in the blink of an eye.

They say money makes the world go round, but for someone like you, it does the exact opposite.

Money makes your world come crashing down.

"Feel better soon," the receptionist smiles. It's a practiced smile, devoid of any real sympathy. Although you suppose she must see hundreds of patients every day. There's really nothing that distingushes you from them. Other than the fact you're broke.

You let out a sigh and turn away, but as you walk past the waiting area, someone shoots up from their seat.

[Name]!" Caleb exclaims. "Are you... are you alright? Is your head going to be fine?"

Ah. Right. He was there when you passed out. For a moment, you'd almost forgotten. He must have been the one to dial emergency services, and you suppose he also came along with you to the hospital.

It's a nice gesture. He was worried, so of course he wanted to make sure you were got properly examined.

Caleb only ever has good intentions, and by now, you know this all too well. Still.

Part of you can't help but secretly feel annoyed.

If he hadn't brought you here, you wouldn't have lost so much money.

"I'm fine," you reply bitterly. You know it isn't fair to be upset with him for just trying to look out for you, but you can't help but feel frustrated. You go to such lengths to manage your debt and live, just like everyone else. Nothing would have changed if he'd just waited for you to regain consciousness. It's not like you were dying.

Caleb smiles, and unlike the receptionist, you can tell that his is genuine.

"Thank god," he exhales. "You scared the crap out of me back there. What happened? You were looking really faint for a while. Have you not been eating properly?"

"I'm fine," you say again.

"If you were fine, you wouldn't have ended up in the hospital," he counters.

"I didn't need to go to the hospital. You made that decision for me."

He reels back, surprised by the harshness of your tone. Shit. You didn't actually mean to snap at him. It's just been a really shitty couple of days, and on top of how weak you feel, you're stressed about losing so much money.

"I-I'm sorry," Caleb mumbles, face flushed from shame. "I know money's tight for you, [Name]. But... I was just so scared. I didn't know what else to do, and I was worried you wouldn't wake up. I couldn't take the risk and wait it out."

Your shoulders slump. It obviously wasn't your intention to try and make him feel bad, especially since his reaction was completely justified. You honestly hate that you're like this. Money brings out the worst in you. It makes you lash out at the few good people you have in your life.

"Don't apologize," you say, shaking your head. "I'm just not feeling well, and I took it out on you. I appreciate how much you care. I should be the one to say sorry. Thanks for cutting your shift short and coming along with me instead."

Caleb's face flushes again, but this time, you get the feeling that it's for a different reason.

"Of course," he replies shyly. "It's the least I can do. And I know it probably isn't much, but how about I lend you a bit of money? Because I understand all this medical stuff can be really expensive, and you probably need some time to make up for your losses."

He's offering to lend you money. Borrowing money... that's exactly what your parents did. And then they ended up with a shitload of debt to a group of loan sharks.

Naturally, Caleb isn't a loan shark, and you doubt he'd ever exploit you either, but having more money to pay back just gives you a horrible, nauseating feeling. You'd rather not resort to such a thing. Not unless it's an emergency.

"Thank you for the offer," you say. "But I'll try to stick it out for a while longer. Still, if I ever find myself backed into a corner, would it be alright if I came to you for help then?"

"Of course!" Caleb beams. "I'm definetly not rich, but I'm sure I can spare enough money to look out for a friend."

He just referred to the two of you as friends, even though up until now, you've really only thought of him as a coworker. The guy you wash dishes next to.

But you have to admit, it's a nice feeling. Knowing that you have a friend.

"Thank you, Caleb." You smile appreciatively, and even though you don't notice it, Caleb's breath briefly catches in his throat.

He's convinced you must be the prettiest girl in the whole world.

Slowly but surely, you've been recovering your strength. The iron supplements have been helping, but the doctor said you would have to stay on them for a while, otherwise you might just find yourself in the hospital again, and you sure as hell don't want that to happen.

You haven't received any messages from Plasma Inc. yet, and yoou blocked Felix's number right after that unfortunate encounter. You suppose you'll just have to wait until Xavier feels like seeing you again, or until they match you up with a new client.

For the time being, you're doing the same thing as always - working.

Working is tedious, especially when the job is as mind-numbing as yours. Perhaps other people with actual careers are able to get some fulfillment out of it, but it's hard to feel like you're improving the world by being a barista.

As so it happens, though, work isn't quite so tedious today, because a familiar face decides to visit.

"H-Hello," Elliot stammers shyly. "I stopped by again, just like you said. I hope it's okay. And I'm glad I was lucky enough to come in while you were working."

"Hey, Elliot." You offer him a pleasant grin. "What can I get you today?"

"Uh, just the same thing as before. I prefer my coffee simple. And maybe a scone too."

"Vampires eat food?" you can't help but ask, blinking repeatedly.

He chuckles. "Well, sort of. It doesn't provide any real nourishment to our bodies. But I just sometimes like to try different things for the taste of it. Still, nothing I ever try even compares to the taste of..."

He stops himself, hurriedly clamping a palm over his mouth. It's your turn to chuckle now. You suppose he was about to say blood, which is a no-brainer, but it's cute how he tried to backtrack.

"Here's your scone," you say, handing him the pastry in a little paper bag. "Should I spread some strawberry jam on top? Maybe the imagery would help it taste better."

"D-Don't say things like that," he huffs, but since he's got such a cute, youthful face, he does a terrible job of looking angry.

"Just teasing," you muse. "I'll have your coffee ready in a second."

With Elliot here, you can feel that your spirits have lifted somewhat. Money is tight, like always, but you should be able to make Johnny's payment on time. As for the following payment, that still remains to be seen, but you're choosing to believe you'll be able to scrounge up the rest of the money, especially if Xavier calls for you again.

You hand Elliot the cup of coffee, but instead of taking everything to go, he grabs a seat at one of the tables and slowly sips his drink. Every so often, you notice his warm amber eyes flickering in your direction, and when he realizes you caught him, he flinches and hastily looks away.

Cute.

He's rather endearing, with how skittish he always is. Elliot is the perfect example of just how much humans have misunderstood vampires all these years. He's the furthest thing from intimidating possible, and you just wish more people gave him a chance.

You briefly step away from the counter, letting someone else man the front, and walk over to Elliot's table.

"So?" you hum. "What's the verdict on the scone?"

"It wasn't bad."

"But not amazing, either?"

"I guess not," he admits. He smiles as he lifts up his cup of coffee. "The coffee is really good, though. I like the way they make the coffee here. Or maybe it's just you do a really good job of it."

"Pfft," you laugh. "You have literally the simplest order ever. I hardly have to do anything. Challenge me by asking for a fancy drink next time, and then you can properly assess my barista skills."

"Sure," Elliot smiles. "I'll do that." He pauses for a moment, setting his cup down. "Are you... almost done with your shift?"

"Hm? Oh, not yet. I'm closing again today, so it'll be a while." You arch a brow at him. "Why do you ask?"

"I-I was just thinking we could maybe get to know each other a bit better once you were off," he says shyly. "Only if you're comfortable, of course!"

"Well, I definetly wouldn't mind, but you would be waiting a long time. And then I'll be heading straight home. I kind of need to catch up on some sleep," you admit.

"Oh..."

His shoulders slump, and you can tell he is disappointed. You wouldn't mind hanging out with him for a bit, but your schedule is too crazy right now. And your body isn't exactly feeling its best, either.

"Another time," you promise. "If you come by another day and I happen to be working a closing shift, we can sit down someplace and have a proper conversation once I am off. Sounds good?"

Elliot perks up a bit, then nods twice. "Yes. That sounds good. Sorry. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. It's just that you're the nicest human I've ever met, and I feel really at ease around you."

Aw. You appreciate the compliment, but even though you are flattered, it sucks that he's had such a shitty experience with other people. You suppose it's an issue that only time can solve. It'll take a while for others to become comfortable with vampires leaving among them.

Hopefully one day, humans and vampires will be able to set their prejudices aside and finally see eye-to-eye.

"I guess I'll be going now," Elliot says. He smiles once more. "I look forward to seeing you again, [Name]. I hope I am not a troublesome customer."

"It's just the opposite. I love it when you stop by."

He blushes, averting his gaze out of embarassment. "N-Next time I'll be back with a more challenging order, just like you said. I'll look up complicated kinds of coffee, so be ready, okay?"

"Sure," you chuckle. "I'll do my best not to let you down."

He leaves, but not before flashing you one last smile and waving shyly. What an adorable little vampire he is. You kind of get the urge to wrap him in your arms and protect him, even though he's definetly a million times stronger than you are.

You head back to the counter, swapping with your coworker so that they can run to the back and grab some ingredients.

And then, you come face to face with your nemesis.

"I want a large caramel macchiato, with light ice, soy milk, extra whipped cream, a big straw, and this time," the woman scowls, "don't make it so disgustingly sweet. My teeth almost fell out before. Seriously, is it that difficult to make a decent cup of coffee?"

Great. This bitch again.

"I'll get that started for you right away," you say. The only thing that's too sweet around here is the fabricted smile you flash her, and it's so that you resist the urge to punch her in the face.

"And don't take forever this time," she snaps. "I've got a hectic schedule, you know."

Ugh.

You already miss Elliot.

Well, that's another shift done and dusted, and a big yawn falls out of your lips as you step outside the coffee shop.

The night air is rather chilly, and you shiver a bit, clutching your sides in an attempt to stay warm. Do vampires like Elliot get cold easily? Xavier's hands were practically frozen, and from what you've heard, their body temperatures are naturally lower than humans'. Normally, cold-blooded organisms actively seek out warmth, like amphibians and reptiles, but vampires perfer to avoid the sun, so perhaps staying cool is simply more pleasant for them.

You hum as you walk. Nowadays, your head is practically filled with thoughts of vampires. Although you suppose it makes sense. You went from never interacting them a day in your life, to meeting several of them in a very short span of time.

Man. You really, really hope Xavier calls on you soon. You need the extra money. And so long as you stay on the supplements and incorporate the foods the doctor recommended into your diet, you shouldn't end up in the hospital again. Unlike Felix, Xavier actually knows how to hold back and not take too much of your blood.

It turns out that it's rather ironic or your thoughts to briefly drift towards that god-forsaken, yellow-eyed vampire because within less than two minutes of stepping outside, your phone starts to buzz.

It's a number you don't recognize, so naturally you decline the call.

But then you get a second call. And a third.

Right as it starts ringing for a fourth time, and you're trying to block the number, you fumble with your phone and accidentally answer the call.

"...[Name]?"

It's Felix. You recognize the voice right away. God. Didn't you block his number? Is he calling you from a different phone or something?

"Piss off," you grimace. "I'm not speaking to you anymore, and I'm going to block this number too."

"Wait!" he cries out. You can hear the desperation in his voice, but you're way past the point of caring. He's the one who made a mess of things. This is on him.

"What part of I'm not speaking to you don't you understand?" you grimace.

"I...I heard you dropped me as a client," Felix continues, clearly ignoring you. "I understand if you don't feel comfortable meeting me privately anymore, but why not through the company? It's safe. And I thought you needed the money. I promise I'll do anything it takes to-"

"No. I don't care. There's no telling what you'll do to me. You lost my trust, and at this point, it's impossible to win it back."

He's the reason you ended up in the hospital and had to pay a massive fee. So what if he gives you money here and there? He's the kind of guy that doesn't know how to hold back, and you don't feel safe meeting with him, even if it's at Plasma Inc.'s headquarters. If he loses control, he can drink your blood by force, and even the doctors on-site won't be able to stop him. Humans don't stand a chance aganst a vampire. He could kill you, intentional or not.

The reason you're doing this whole is to survive, not meet an early grave. Keeping Felix around is simply not worth the risk.

"You don't understand," Felix whines, all childish and pathetic. "I need your blood, [Name]. It doesn't compare to anyone else's, and now that I've already tasted it, I... I just can't go back. You'll never understand how much this means to me, so please. I'm begging you."

What an absolute piece of shit. You honestly can't believe the nerve of him. Here you are, doing everything you can just to make it to the next day, and this is his greatest inconvenience in life? The fact that he no longer has access to his favorite snack?

Even without your blood, Felix can survive. He can stay perfectly healthy, and he clearly has all the money he'll ever need, so how dare he act as if he's suffering. How dare he bitch and whine to someone like you, who's been dealt nothing but shitty hands all their life.

Drinking your blood is something he wants, and it's time he learns that in life, wanting something doesn't mean you'll actually get it.

"That has nothing to do with me," you snap. "I've got my own shit to worry about. All you had to do was be a bit more considerate, and I would still be meeting up with you. But I don't do business with assholes who act selfishly without any regard for the other person's wellbeing."

"[Name], wait-"

You hang up the call and proceed to block the number. It sucks that he still has your contact information. If you'd known it would have turned out this way, you never would have taken him up on his stupid offer, no matter how tempting it was. He'll probably keep spamming you with calls from new numbers, but that's fine. You'll block every single one of them. And it's not like he knows anything else apart from your name. He'll never be able to track you down.

Felix is out of your life for good.

Or at least, that's what you're choosing to tell yourself.

More chapters are available on Quotev and Wattpad!

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🩸 main masterlist! ♡ character appearances

[elliespuns]

There's this deleted dialogue between Ellie and Dina (video) where all of our theories of how their friendship/relationship started are confirmed. I took the time to write down the whole thing before analyzing the hell out of it.

Dina, is pink. Ellie, is not.

I was asking, if I hadn't come on to you in Jackson, how would you have hit on me? Like I would have hit on you. You totally would've hit on me. How bad could it have gone? You might have rejected me and then what? I'd have to watch you fall for someone else. Okay, worst case, it would be a little awkward and we just move on. There's no way we just move on. Yes, you would have. What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore? Such a pussy. Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?

Tell me about when you first realized you were into me. Was it my swagger, my overwhelming beauty? I was into from the day we met. Go on. The day we met, you introduced yourself to me and Joel like you were the major or something. Because I thought you were cute. *blushing* shut up! I hate you. No, you don't. Yes, I do. No, you don't. I love you. I love you too.

Okay, so, as Ellie says, she was into Dina from the day they met. Which was when they came to Jackson with Joel. Ellie was still 14 (I guess more likely freshly 15 at the time, actually). Dina is probably like a year older, so she was 16. I mean, now I can't stop imagining 15-year-old Ellie meeting 16-year-old Dina and being all twitterpated by her. Just remember the cuteness when Ellie was shown to be in love with Riley. Imagine this when she's 15 and meets Dina. Just adorable.

Also, quoting Ellie "Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?"

This means even Dina had a crush on Ellie in the early stages. 4 years ago, Ellie was 15, so that means she either started to like her right away or a little bit later on. The girls were into each other, just tiptoeing around one another not to do anything stupid or ruin their friendship.

This also gives us a pretty clear picture of how things were between Ellie and Cat. She was already in love with Dina at the time she was going out with her, and remembering how Dina always disliked the fact that Ellie was hanging out with Cat only proves that Dina was jealous all along. Her relationship with Jessee must have been something similar to what Ellie had with Cat, although I believe that Dina started dating Jesse a lot sooner and had already been good friends before that.

Ellie seems a little hesitant when it comes to relationships (this whole dialogue confirms it too), so maybe if it wasn't for Cat making first steps, Ellie would have never gotten into any relationship to begin with. It seems to me that she just wanted to explore and wanted to know what it was like, but she didn't really made herself believe that she loved her. She surely cared for her and liked her, but knowing she was in love with Dina at the time, it was probably even the reason why Cat broke up with her (I always thought it was her who ended it). She probably knew all along that Ellie had eyes for her best friend anyway.

I also appreciate how Ellie admits she was insecure about asking Dina out. "What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore?", I love how deep this digs into Ellie's personality and how, even though she is a strong and independent girl, she still struggles with abandonment issues. Now she doesn't feel like this only towards Joel, but towards her best friend too. Like, she is lovely, nice, funny, and beautiful, but she still feels insecure. Help me with this girl, she deserves the world because she'd rather love her friend from afar than ending up without a friend. Under the layer of thick skin and a strong mind, this girl is so fucking sensitive and fragile it physically hurts me.

This gives the dance scene a whole lot of new meaning. It's probably the very first time Dina says to herself, 'Okay, now's the time. It's now or never.' and after all those years of resisting, she makes a move on Ellie, knowing the girl must feel it too. The girl is too quirky and shy to hide it anymore whenever she's around Dina.

And Ellie? She has been loving Dina for too long, probably trying to convince herself she wouldn't have a chance with Dina, thinking she's into guys, not girls, let alone her girl best friend. And there she is, suddenly grabbing Ellie's hand and leading her on the dance floor, wrapping HER ARMS around HER BODY. Ellie's arms around her body. What is happening? Is she just imagining it? Ellie's heart must have missed thousands of beats at this moment. I love how it's shown in her facial expression as Dina whispers in her ear. Ellie is so awestruck that she doesn't even realize all Dina wants to do is something she should've done 4 years ago.

[percabeth4life]

I feel like rick missed an opportunity when he made Frank closer to Percy's age instead of Hazel's. Like, I'm sure there are reasons (It's been a while since I read HoO, so I can't say what they are, but they're probably there(I hope)), but can you imagine Percy, on a quest with two kids that are 13-14 (I can't remember how old she is in SoN, can't find it either, so guessing low it is).

Even without his memories, he'd be halfway to feral, but once he got them back, I can't see him doing anything but going from protective to absolutely destroying anything that hurt them.

I also think it would have been hilarious to have Percy and Annabeth at like, 17-ish? And have the rest of the seven at like, 14 max. Percy and Annabeth are trying to keep this group of 13-14 year olds alive, and they're both screaming internally half the time. Sometimes, it's just screaming, but sometimes, they scream about how toddlers shouldn't be on quests.

(Side note this popped into my head while I was writing, so have a- thing

Annabeth: There's a bunch of babies, Loose on a quest! No one knows what the babies are going to do next, least of all the babies! They've never been on a quest before!

Narrator: The babies in question are 14, and they have, in fact, been on quests before. (She is right about them not knowing what they're going to do, though.))

Then again, maybe I just like big brother/protector Percy too much. (Reluctant and screaming big sister/mentor figure Annabeth is also fun.)

(And on a sadder note, Annabeth realizes this must be what Luke and Thalia felt like and almost starts crying.)

To start, you're absolutely right that it was a missed opportunity. Percy is, without knowing it, the most experienced of the questers, except Frank is nearly his age in comparison to Hazel (who should be 14 by math, but is 13 by Rick's declaration). I think it's less that he made Frank closer to Percy's age and more that he was trying to make Hazel younger than Nico.

But yes, it would've been super interesting to see him basically mentoring the other two, especially after he regained his memories. I feel it was a major missed opportunity to not have Percy and Annabeth trying to watch over the younger quest members, instead he aimed for weakening the two to make everyone else their equal. It's a shame cause it missed the opportunity for the younger questers to be major boons for their skills, rather than raw power.

And also, the two of them looking after younger ones and wanting to protect them but also having to risk their lives to save the world- and the rest being alone when Percabeth falls with Nico to help except half of them find him freaky- would've allowed them to grow into their own more.

It would also show how Percy and Annabeth really ARE the most experienced, how their quests haven't been the norm so even Jason who is remembering some quests hasn't done anything this insane before but Percabeth just takes it all in stride.

[jermer10]

Hello! Could you write for some enemies/rivals to lovers with sniper? Thank you in advance and remember to stay hydrated!

TF2 enemies to lovers sniper

suggestive, gn reader | thanks anon!! i have my water bottle next to me at all times :] i apologize for how long this has taken!! <3

drabbles under the cut :P

- Sniper hated you, he made it so obvious the rest of your team couldn't even stand staying in the same room as the two of you - he sits there, glaring daggers into your face, arms crossed over his chest - you take no notice, carrying on with whatever menial task you had been performing - you knew what he was doing, but you also knew that if you were to meet his glance with anything other than an equal match of hatred to his, it would bruise his pride - so you didn’t look at all, and there was one thing he hated more than you; your ignorance - truth is, you didn’t hate him in the slightest, you didn't even dislike him - you couldn’t even place where exactly this feud started, let alone why Sniper seemed to despise you so much - you could go as far as to say you found him quite…appealing - you often found yourself thinking of him during your daily activities, fantasizing about what you thought he would like and dislike, how your lives would mesh together - so his perceived hatred towards you felt so unfounded when you had been anything but aggressive towards him - Sniper didn’t really hate you either - having a crush was so foreign to him, he knew he wanted you in a way that conflicted with the way he treated you, but vulnerability never came easy to him - and eventually someone had to say something - "why do y'all even hate eachother?" engie frowned - "fucked if i know..." you mumbled, taking a sip of the water in your glass - Sniper rolled his eyes, "they're a stuck up bitch..." he mumbled - you felt enraged, seriously you had been nothing but cordial with him and YOU were the stuck up bitch? - "are you fucking serious?" you returned a look to his already scowling face, it must have taken him aback because his tough guy demeanor fell for a moment, a look of surprise came from both of the men in front of you - engie awkwardly shuffled out of the kitchen, the tension so thick you'd have to use a chainsaw to cut it - "i've been nothing but fucking cordial with you, you're the one who started giving me dirty looks, cockhead" you spat - "oh fuck off, you ignore me every chance you get" he retorted - you only ignored him because he kept looking at you like that, like you had killed his parents or something - "whatever jackass" you begun to walk off, face flushed in anger - he grabs your wrist, you flip your head around to look up at him - and...he kisses you? - you're confused, even more angry, but above all else...turned on? - you lean into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck - he pulls away after a moment, looks at you with something you can't place, and he walks away - "asshole!" he doesn't even spare you a glance

[chamberofthespirit]

{ Tips for † Becoming Christian }

ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵈᵉⁿᵒᵐⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

🕯 This is probably obvious but get a bible. If you can't get a physical bible for awhile or at all, get an app version. YouVersion is the best choice for a digital bible, it has a lot of features and versions.

🕯 Even though this should already be in practice, try humbling yourself. This can be very hard to do because it is hard to control thoughts and emotions sometimes but struggling while trying is better than not trying at all.

🕯 Pray everyday. This doesn't have to be extreme if you don't want it to be, at least make a rountine of praying every morning and night. If you struggle to pray out loud, try starting a prayer journal.

🕯 Focus on the present. Worrying about the future too much can cause a lot of anxiety and loss of faith in God's work, God is already working on your future and you can work through it with Him. Don't feel bad if you catch yourself worrying though, everyone goes through it so don't feel ashamed. The same goes for the past as well, the past has already gone by and there is nothing you can do about it, let it go and focus on what God has in store for you now.

🕯 Learn about saints, even if you're Protestant. Saints have amazing stories which can inspire and teach you how to grow closer to God and live a more holy life. Saints were people too so they can be relatable as they experienced the same struggles we experience.

🕯 Be modest. This doesn't mean you have to get an entire new wardrobe, modesty can come from actions as well. Honor and represent Christ in your behavior. Choose kindness and respect over anger and recklessness.

🕯 Work on not being lazy. It's ok to rest from time to time but don't revolve your life around it. You achieve more by doing things even if it's as simple as doing chores, reading, cooking, drawing, etc. This is a big thing to remember if you have a job or attend school, do not slack at either of these. You don't gain wisdom by laying around.

🕯 Engage in spiritual media. This can include books, videos, podcasts, etc. These are great sources of education on theology and learning how to live a more holy life. A book that I have been reading that I would recommend is The Essential Writings of Christian Mysticism.

🕯 If you are looking to become Catholic, buy a rosary. For Orthodox, buy a prayer rope. These help you start getting the hang of meditating during prayer.

🕯 If you can, set up a prayer corner. This will give you a space dedicated to the Lord, as well as a visual reminder to pray. It doesn't have to be super fancy but make sure you respect the space.

🕯 Make sure to practice gratitude. Sometimes we can forget how lucky we are when we see others with things we want or when something goes wrong. We must remember that the situations we live in and the belongings we possess, is a dream to someone else. Do not be greedy for the belongings of others because whatever it is that they have, belongs to them. Give to the poor and to the ill and also pray for them so that they can get the help that they need.

🕯 Do not expect forgiveness. God is very loving and forgiving but you must not expect Him to always forgive you. This can go along with humbling yourself. What makes you think you are worthy of forgiveness? God is not a slave so don't expect Him to do whatever you tell Him to.

[staticscreenwriting]

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times II Joel Miller

Summary: Joel doesn't think he's deserving of love after all he did and all he went trough. Or maybe he's just scared. Either way he can't let himself fall for (Y/N). Now if only she'd stop sending him those damn postcards.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (I always try not to describe the reader physically, if I missed something please let me know so I can change it and make this "applicable" to every reader. Thank you!)

A/N: This is my entry for the dear-uary challenge by @jolapeno . My prompt was "Character A keeps finding X and traces them back to Character B, who might be leaving them intentionally—or not." And I chose Postcards as my form of epistolary.

TW: This is mostly angsty fluff. There is some talk of self doubt and loss of a child but I think that should be it.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

It all starts with a simple postcard tucked into the side pocket of his bag. Joel almost doesn’t realize it’s there, folded twice into a tiny square. It’s only when he’s looking for the list Maria gave him of all the things to look for on this run, that he grabs a hold of the card. 

His gloves make it hard to unfold the small paper but it’s way too cold to take them off. Joel was never big on winter and snow, even before everything went to shit. He doesn’t like the way it lingers, the way it consumes you from the inside out. Now, an unforgiving cold is all he feels as a thick blanket of snow has settled upon Wyoming. 

Bold bright letters scream out to him from the wrinkled paper “ Greetings from Tampa Florida. Wish you were here!”.

It’s one of those campy vintage ones where the letters are filled with drawings of landmarks and beaches. He remembers sending one just like this to his High School girlfriend when Dad took him and Tommy on a trip to Nashville when Joel was 16 maybe 17. It was a good trip, the last one they ever took together. Sometimes Joel wonders how his dad would deal with all of this. This new reality. This fucked up world. He always seemed so strong, so fearless. That man was unstoppable force and immovable object all at once. Every vulnerability Joel finds in himself, he’s sure was absent in his father. Maybe if he was a little more like his own dad he could’ve saved Sarah, could’ve spared Ellie the pain of living in this limbo of knowing and not knowing. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Joel moves closer to the fire, his only light source other than the stars. There’s writing on the back, blue ink on off-white paper. It’s not a handwriting he knows and for a second he wonders if the card has been there ever since he found the bag years ago, back in Boston. But he would know that, right? Would've found it by now. This must be new. This must be meant for him.

“ I know you hate the cold. I know it makes you sad and gloomy, well gloomier than usual. So let me tell you about the hottest day I ever experienced. I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8 and my mom took me to Florida. Not Tampa (it was the only postcard I could find at the library), but Orlando. We went to fucking Disney World!! We didn’t have a lot of money back then so mom must’ve saved a long time for this. Anyway, Joel, it was so hot. Unbearably hot. My clothes stuck to my skin and my hair got all frizzy. Maybe July wasn’t the best time to go. The air was so thick and heavy, so moist (ew). It felt like breathing in honey, syrup maybe. I still had the best time. I know it doesn’t take away the cold but I hope I can take you away to that hot and humid Florida summer for one small moment. If not, there’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag. Made it myself. You never told me what your favorite color is. I hope you like blue. xx 

P.S.: I wonder what happened to Disney World.” 

A chuckle falls from Joel’s lips and forms a cloud against the sharp winter air. He's never been to Disney World. The Millers just weren’t a Disney World kind of family. They were more of a local fair kind of family. All corn dogs and funnel cakes and first kisses behind the bumper cars. Sarah would’ve loved Disney World though. Ellie too. Ellie who doesn’t even know what the hell Disney is. 14 years and the girl has no idea who Mickey Mouse is. What a surreal thought. What a strange world. More than 20 years and it still feels strange. Joel wonders if life will ever let him settle in this new reality. If one day this feels like home and not a bad dream. Not a cosmic punishment. A bad joke that no one’s laughing at anymore.

His eyes travel back towards the blue swirly writing. It’s not Ellie’s bad chicken scratch, he could pick that out of a line-up any day. This looks much neater, more deliberate, and thoughtful. 

“There’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag.”

Quiet, as not to wake up the others sleeping just a few steps away, Joel opens the zipper on his bag and rummages through it with a gloved hand. There’s a bunch of stuff in there, food rations, ammunition, a second pair of gloves. Going on supply runs is not something Joel enjoys but it is a way for him to give back. To Tommy and Maria and the entire community. Jackson and its people have taken him and Ellie in as one of their own without much hesitation. They provided them with food, with shelter, with trust. He has so little to give in return. Going on a supply run to look for medicine and other necessities, that’s the least he can do. 

Something soft and squishy meets his hand and he pulls out a dark blue woolen scarf. There are so many holes and even in the dim light of the campfire, Joel can tell those holes are not there on purpose. Maybe it was Ellie after all, but then she never showed any interest in knitting, and the idea of her doing just that is far too ridiculous. No matter how imperfect it is though, Joel has to admit the scarf does make him feel warmer as he wraps it around his neck. 

“Hey,” Adam, one of the other guys on the run, speaks up from beside Joel, “you can catch some sleep if you want. I can take over the watch.” 

It’s a strange thing, how sometimes you don’t notice just how tired you are or how hungry you are until someone points it out to you. Until they offer to take it from you. Then it hits you like a brick to the face. A wave pulling you under. 

Joel feels his eyelids grow heavy and nods at the younger man. "Thanks". 

This mystery, it can wait until tomorrow. Until then he will bury his face in the warm soft wool of the scarf and think of that Florida sun. And though it most definitely is just his imagination, Joel could almost swear the night feels a little less cold.

His boots leave deep imprints in the white icy blanket as he makes his way past the Tipsy Bison and the community hall further towards his house. His home. 

No place has really felt like home in years. Not since all of this started. Everything was temporary. 4 walls and a roof. He wonders if this place will ever start feeling like home? Will he ever get to a point where he doesn’t wait for the second shoe to drop? It all feels like he’s Charlie Brown and life is Lucy pulling the football away at the last second. And it always ends with him falling. He’s so tired of falling. So tired of getting back up.

Joel almost expects the house to be silent as he steps inside. Ellie is slowly making friends with the other teens living in the settlement and is spending more time at their houses than she is at home. He can’t blame her. If he was more like his father he’d find it in himself to start conversations with people, get to know them, forge connections, make friends. Of the Miller boys, Tommy is the one who inherited their dad’s social gene though, Joel only got the snarl and the crippling inability to talk about his feelings.

Laughter echoes through the house as Joel rounds the corner connecting the entryway to the living room. Ellie’s laughter, loud and bright and light. As if for a moment all the horrors and the pain and the trauma have been taken from her.

When he steps into the kitchen, Joel understands. 

(Y/N) is standing by the counter, a smile on her face so soft and radiant it might just rival the sun. That joy she brings out in Ellie, it’s familiar to Joel because he feels it too whenever (Y/N) is around. Not always but sometimes. It’s a spark of warmth that starts in his chest and crawls up his spine. It settles in his lungs, his heart, his brain. Like a parasite. Like a virus. Like a wonderful dream. He doesn’t allow himself to feel it all the time but sometimes, sometimes he can’t deny himself this little bit of warmth.

Joel can’t even remember when exactly (Y/N) became a part of their life. It’s like one day she was there and refused to leave. And really that’s kind of how it went. She works at the library and the school, lives across the street from him and Ellie and for some reason, she’s taken pity on them. Joel isn’t sure if it's him or Ellie she pities. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, she brought over some soup one day and that’s the beginning and end of it all. She’s wormed her way into Ellie’s heart and by extension his too. Whether he likes to admit it or not. Doesn't hurt that she's so damn beautiful too.

“Joel, you’re back!” 

Ellie pulls him in a tight hug. It’s something Joel still has to get used to. Ellie isn’t a particularly affectionate person. She’s definitely not a hugger. And neither is Joel — not anymore at least. So when they do hug, it’s still a little strange. Not bad strange just unfamiliar. 

“Yeah, I’m back. 

“How did it go?” (Y/N) asks and meets his eyes over Ellie’s head. A silent conversation happening between her and Joel. It’s that thing she does where she doesn’t need to say a single word but Joel can tell exactly what she’s thinking just by the look in her eyes. He sometimes wonders if this is a them thing. 

“Did someone die” her eyes are saying. “Did someone get hurt?” 

“Did you get hurt?” 

He quickly shakes his head answering her unspoken questions. Not this time. 

“Good. It went good.” 

Maybe the relieved sigh he sees her let out is just his imagination. But Joel doesn’t think so. Joel thinks it's very real.

“Did you bring us something? “ 

He can’t help but smile at that. It feels good to smile. In a world that gives you grief and sorrow, you start to count the moments when it gives you a reason to smile. They are few and far between but the number has surely increased since Ellie stepped into his life — and since (Y/N) did. 

“I brought food and medicine. Isn’t that enough? “

A determined “no” falls from both their lips in a chaotic harmony. 

“Geez, you guys are demanding.” 

“Well — did you bring us something?” 

Joel just rolls his eyes and rummages through his bag for the goods. 

“For you— “ he says and throws the old wrinkled comic book towards Ellie who regards it with that endless sense of wonder she does possess. It’s the kind of spark that flickers and dies once you grow old. Or maybe just his did. Maybe grief leaves no room for wonder. 

Placing his bag on the ground, Joel moves into the kitchen and holds out his loot to (Y/N). Green background. White goats. Yellow bubble letters.

“Oooooh, you did get me something. Pet Sounds, nice!” 

There’s a spark in her too. Dulled and dusted from time but it is there and it flickers and grows every time Joel brings her a vinyl record from his trips outside of the settlement. In a world with so little joy, music seems to be one of the few things that hasn’t changed. In the face of immeasurable pain, humans turn to music. They have done so for a long time and judging by the world as is, they always will. 

“I hope it works still. Didn’t really have a record player to try it out.” 

“I’ll try it out as soon as I get to the library. Feel free to come by and listen with me.” 

“Sure.” 

“Thank you, Joel. I hope you didn’t have to do anything stupid to get this.” 

He didn’t. Not this time. He would’ve though. It scares him how willing he is to put himself in danger just to get her something that will put that radiant smile on her face. He’d walk to the end of the earth if he knew there was a record there she wanted. That thought scares the shit out of him. It’s bad enough he cares so deeply about Ellie, about Tommy. The more people you care about, the more you open yourself up to hurt. Losing either of them would tear him apart. Joel is not sure he can handle opening his heart to yet another person no matter how much his heart wants just that. 

“ Nah. No issues.” 

“Good.” 

She just looks at him for a moment. All soft eyes and gentle smile. There must be something she sees in him, Joel thinks, something he doesn’t see. A version of himself that he isn’t, that he will never be. A version he once was, maybe. A version he so desperately wishes he could be. For her.

“Well,” (Y/N) says and snaps him out of her enchantment “Ellie and I made some stew. I know you must’ve been freezing outside, some good warm stew might help warm you up a little.” 

“It smells great.” 

“You have impeccable timing because we just got done. So, dig in. And uh — I guess I’ll see you guys at the movie screening?” 

He doesn’t want her to leave. The devil and the angel on his shoulders are both screaming at him to ask her to stay. And if he was any stronger a man, any more like his own father and more deserving of good things, he would ask her. To stay for dinner. To stay forever.

But he isn’t. And he doesn’t ask. Just watches as she wraps a scarf around her neck and slips into the thick jacket that's a few sizes too big on her.

“I left the recipe by the fridge. Just in case you ever want to cook it yourself.” 

“Thanks.” 

And he really is grateful. For her. For everything.

“Oh Joel,” she says and stops in the doorway. “I like that scarf. Blue looks really good on you.” 

And then she’s gone, swallowed by the cold winter air. 

Joel hasn’t thought about his favorite color in forever. It’s something you stop thinking about once you start growing hair on your chest and fantasizing about girls in a way you haven’t before. Kids talk about their favorite colors all the time. Sarah did. It’s just once you grow old you lose that sense of self, define yourself through different things. 

Looking at the scarf now, all holes and imperfections, there is no doubt in his mind that his favorite color is blue. 

“Have you ever been to Paris?” 

The lights are dimmed in the big community hall, the movie playing on screen providing the only source of light as the people of Jackson have gathered for another movie night. 

A glimpse into a world that was but no longer is and never will be again. And for some of them, like Ellie, a world that never was to begin with.

Ellie is sitting in the front with some of the other teens, her friends, Joel supposes. She has friends now.

“Joel, have you?” 

A soft hand rests on his arm, shaking him from his gloomy thoughts. (Y/N) sits next to him, eyes focused on the pictures dancing across the screen. Ilsa and Rick, falling in love over and over again in Paris. The beginning of a love story doomed from the start. 

“I uh — no. Never.” 

“Me neither. I would’ve loved to go though. It looks beautiful.” 

He doesn’t know why or how it happens but the words just flow from his mouth like a waterfall. For the first time in a while, he finds himself wanting to talk more. About the past. About Sarah.

“My daughter, Sarah, went to Paris once. Some school exchange program. They don’t usually do it until later but her French class was above average and I guess they won some contest. I don’t know it was a long time ago.” 

“Sounds like she was a smart cookie.” 

"Oh, she was. Too smart for me, that’s for sure. Was hard letting her leave and fly to a whole different continent though. I was scared out of my mind until she was back home. Drove Tommy crazy for a whole damn week.” 

(Y/N) turns her face away from the screen and regards him with that infinite sense of something more. Soft and endearing. If he was a different man he would call it love. He would see the way she looks at him and he would kiss her stupid and life would be all sweet dreams and gentle touches. 

But he is the man he is. Not worthy of whatever she is willing to give.

“What’re looking at me like that for?” 

“It’s just sweet how much you care. About everyone. I think you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time.” 

“Do what?” 

“Care for others. For Ellie and me and all of us. You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I just wish you’d let someone take care of you for a change.” 

He doesn’t need to be taken care of. He can do it all on his own. And anyway, he is not as good of a man as she thinks he is. Good men don’t have the blood of their loved ones stuck to their hands. Good men don’t let their daughters die in their arms. Good men don’t kill. Good men don’t do all the things he did. 

Joel doesn’t want to be a good man. He just wishes he was good enough a man to allow himself to be with (Y/N).

“I ain’t a good man. And I don’t need someone to take care of me.” 

“You wore that scarf, did you not? You allowed me to take care of you then.” 

That damn scarf. He had a hunch it was her. The handwriting on the postcard matched the one of the recipe stuck to his fridge an awful lot. But it’s something else entirely to hear her say it outright. 

“That was you, huh? Had an awful lot of holes that thing.” 

“Hey, I never said I was good at knitting. You wore it anyway.”

Joel turns back towards the screen as Rick and Ilsa share a loving kiss. 

“Yeah, I wore it anyway.” 

And to the sound of bombs and tanks, (Y/N) rests her head on his shoulder.

That’s what you do for the people you love. Even if you don’t allow yourself to love them.

You wear the scarf anyway.

The mailbox flag is up. Bright red against the sharp white of the winter's day. 

It’s never been up. People around here don’t get mail. It’s but an ancient relic of a life they used to live. Remnants of a society long gone. 

But Joel is nothing if not curious. So he stomps up to the mailbox, leaving deep imprints in the freshly fallen snow. 

It’s another postcard. Only this time it doesn’t come with a mystery. This time it comes with that silly little feeling that makes his heart beat just a little faster. That makes his head swirl with stupid thoughts of stupid dreams.

“From Paris with love,” it says on the front. Fucking Paris, of course.

Sometimes the way he feels about her is infuriating, confusing, scary.

And sometimes, like right now, it feels like a ball of warmth settles in his ribcage and warms him from the inside out.

“Dear Joel,

We’ll never have Paris. Not in this life at least. And while I would’ve loved to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle with you and make you eat a croissant (which you would’ve pretended to hate but I think you would’ve enjoyed it secretly), I am glad to get this life with you at least. Or alongside you. Whatever it is we are, I am glad this life gave me that in between all the pain. Despite what you like to tell yourself, Joel Miller, you are a spark of fire, a light in the dark. You are more than the sum of your failures, you are more than your pain. All the good that is in you, that counts. That’s all that matters in the end. And there is so much good in you.

I wish you’d let yourself see it. 

We will never have Paris. But we’ll always have Jackson and that is enough for me. I hope it’s enough for you.

Here’s looking at you kid! ;) “

There’s a tragedy in knowing someone else sees all your good parts and none of the bad. A tragedy in knowing how much they like those good parts and being awfully aware that seeing all the bad parts would destroy them. 

A tragedy in still wanting to show them all of you, even the ugly soul-destroying parts.

But if she thinks he’s a good man, then Joel needs to be just that. A good man who keeps those ugly parts hidden and away from her. Even if that means denying himself the one thing he wants. 

“What’s that?” Ellie speaks up from beside him, a curious look on her face.

“Postcard.” 

“Like what people would send from vacations and stuff?”

“Yeah, how do you know about that?” 

She rolls his eyes at him and it’s one of those moments where he feels like a dad again. Those little moments that mean the world to him because he gets to feel like the old him. The Joel he thought was long dead and buried beside the bones of his own child.

“I watch movies? I talk to people? I read books? Take your pick.” 

“Wow, when did you become such a smartass, huh?” 

She shrugs his shoulders at him “Was born that way. Nothing I can do about it.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Hey, you’ve grown to love me! You wouldn’t want me any other way.” 

And she isn’t wrong. Ellie, with all her curiosity and her bravery and her lust for life, whatever that life may look like, is exactly what he needed. Which makes him wonder if saving her from the fireflies was ultimately more of a selfish act than that of a heroic savior. 

“Who’s it from?” 

“None of your business.” 

“Oh, so (Y/N).” 

His eyes flick up and he is met with that satisfied, mischievous grin that is so uniquely Ellie.

“What makes you think that?” 

“You always change the subject when I bring her up. And that way you just jumped when I mentioned her? Yeah, you’re not slick, old man.” 

“Hey! Who are you calling an old man?” 

“You! Old and scared!” 

“I’m not scared!” 

Like hell he is. Terrified even. But there ain’t no way in hell he’ll admit that to Ellie. She’ll never let him hear the end of it. 

“Then go talk to her! She likes you, you like her. Why do you have to make it so complicated?” 

If only she knew all the ghosts swirling around inside of him threatening to break free. Things could be so easy. Only nothing ever is.

“Mind your own business, kid! Anyway, don't you have someplace to be? Think Dina came by earlier asking for you. You two are getting along well, huh?” 

“Aaaand on that note. See you for dinner, old man!” 

She’s gone before he can even hurl a reply at her. It pulls his lips into a smile. There’s no better way to get a teen to shut up than to bring up their crush. Nice to see that some things never change.

Another run. Another record. 

Joel feels silly, standing here in front of her door with his heart beating fast and heavy as he clutches the vinyl record in his hand. 

If Ellie saw him now, she’d surely make fun of him. Tommy too. Sarah even. 

What happened, Joel? You used to be so brave. What makes you so afraid now? 

Life, he thinks. Life has made him scared and bitter and sad. 

“Did you wanna knock or — ?” 

Joel turns around as the voice calls out to him. There it is again, that softness, that smile. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Okay, good. Did you come to see me? Sorry, I was helping Maria at the farm.” 

“Yeah no uh — don’t worry about it. I just came to drop this off” 

Her eyes grow wide as she catches sight of which record it is he’s holding up. 

“No way! The stranger! You found it.” 

“ I did.” 

He had to clear an old dilapidated bar full of clickers to get that record. Almost lost his damn arm in the process. But her smile, that god-damn, life-ruining, world-shattering, heart-beat-faster, smile of hers makes it all worth it. He would give both arms, all of him. He would give it all to see her smile.

“Do you wanna come in and listen to it with me? Got my player fixed so I don’t have to use the one at the library anymore.” 

Say no. Just say no and go home. Be a good man! Be a better man! 

But he’s not. For this one moment, he can’t be that man. He’s just as weak as the rest of them. 

“Sure.” 

This feels so — normal. So before everything. Different and twisted and warped. But normal.

It’s scary and comforting all at once. Like a tipsy dream when you know you’ll wake up with a headache for sure.

(Y/N) is twirling around her living room, a beer in hand and a smile on her face. Joel leans against the door connecting her living room and her kitchen and all he can do is stare. At this woman who means so much to him. Too much for him to ever put into words. If he even knew how to. He’s never been a poet. 

“I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right”

“I love this song. Can you imagine someone loving you enough to write something like this about you?” 

Yes, he thinks. If only he WAS a poet. He would write a hundred songs. A thousand. And all of them would talk of her smile and her eyes and the way there is no single thing about her he would change. 

But words fail him. They always do. 

So he just nods.

“Joel,” she says and moves closer. The bottle of beer now placed on her couch table, her hands find his chest. So warm. So soft. And all he does is stare. 

“I know you got my postcards. I know you know how I feel. And sometimes I think you feel the same. I see the way you look at me. I know the dangers you put yourself in to get me those records. I just — you never say anything. So am I making a fool of myself here? Please tell me if I — “ 

“You’re not.” 

Wow, so eloquent. 

“I’m not?” 

Her voice sounds so small. So unsure. He hates that he’s the one who put the uncertainty there. Be a better man, Joel! Be a good man for once! 

But all he does is stare. Words fail him. Again. again. again.

“Then can I — can I do this?” 

(Y/N)’s gaze falls to his lips then back up to his eyes. She is so close. He can feel her warm breath on his skin. Can smell the scent of her shampoo. Notices the tremble of her fingers as her hands rest on his chest.

And he wants to kiss her. Every version of him that ever was and ever will be wants to kiss her. But all he does is stare.

All he does is stare and pull away.

And it breaks his heart to see hers break in that moment. 

“I uh — oh I’m sorry Joel.”

Tears gather in her eyes, fill them with sorrow, fill his heart with rage. He can’t do anything right, can he? Everyone he’s ever loved, he’s disappointed. But how can he let himself love her, how can he let her love him, when he is so broken? When all he does is break things?  Taint them with this infinite sadness that lives and grows inside his bones? 

“It’s not you.” 

“Oh please, Joel. I made a fool of myself already. Don’t make it worse.” 

“I ain’t trying to. It just ain’t you. It’s all me. It’s always been me”

His palms are sweaty and he feels like someone has reached into his ribcage, cracked every rib on the way to his heart, and ripped it out with bare hands. Snapping veins and arteries and all.

“I want you. I want this but I can’t have it. You think I’m a good man but the truth is, I am not. I do bad things all the time, over and over again and time and life have made me so numb to it. But you, you are so good. You deserve someone better. Someone whole.”

It’s like once he’s started it all comes flowing out like a fucking waterfall. All his fears and insecurities and pain. It’s all there for her to be disgusted by. Because god knows there is no way she won’t be. He is. All the time.

“I have not been the same since this all started. Since Sarah — since she died. I live with this immense grief. It surrounds me. It IS me. All of me. And I so desperately want to claw my way out of it. Rip it apart and leave it behind. But at the same time, I want to bury myself in it. Because what if I do leave it behind and I start to forget? Her and all that she was? How is it fair that I have to remember her far longer than I got to know her? So if I get better, if I become the man I need to be to be worthy of your love, am I still gonna be the man she knew? Can I still remember? Because that is all I have. And that is not a burden I can put on you. Not you and not Ellie.”

Joel takes a breath then another but it does little to calm him down.

“You two mean everything to me and I am sorry I am bad at showing it. That I can’t say it. I need you to know, it’s all me that’s the problem. It was never you. I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t wait for her to say anything. He doesn’t think he has the heart to hear a reply anyway. It’s like he just ripped himself open and spilled all his guts, his heart, his lungs, and all his inside out on her living room floor. 

If he was any better of a man he’d pick them up and try to rearrange them.

But he is not a good man. Maybe he never was.

“There was something for you in the mailbox” Ellie exclaims and slumps down on the couch next to him. “I was this close to opening it but I didn’t want to make you even more grumpy than you already are.” 

“I’m not grumpy” 

He has to admit, the tone in which he said those words does not do much to counter her point. Ellie knows too, judging by the way she raises her eyebrow “Sure, you’re not.” 

She drops a sunflower yellow envelope on his lap. ‘Joel’, it says in that swirly handwriting he’s become so familiar with.

It’s been a few weeks since he’s seen (Y/N). Since he spilled all his sorrows and worries to her and then ran. And, surprisingly, Jackson makes it very easy for someone to avoid another person if you only try hard enough.

Maybe Ellie has a point, maybe he has been exceptionally grumpy lately. No correlation to any recent events though. Absolutely zero.

“Sooo are you gonna open it?”

Ellie looks at him with curiosity and that little spark of mischief as if she knows something he doesn’t. 

“Not with you watching over my shoulder, I ain’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it’s none of your business.” 

“Excuse me? I have to live with your grumpy ass because you guys can’t get your shit straight. I think it very much is my business.” 

“Jesus, Ellie. Language!" 

“Sorry,” she says and gives him that pseudo-sheepish look he’s grown familiar with. “You guys need to get your stuff straight.” 

He used to scold her for it but really, he isn’t one to talk. 

“Anywayyyyy, I’ll go stay at Dina’s tonight … just in case you decide to go over and apologize for whatever it is you did and you guys finally sort it out and need some privacy later.” 

“Why do you think I did something?” 

And there it is again that sassy eyebrow raise. The same one he’s seen on Sarah so many times before. It truly is a woman’s world and he’s but a fool living in it. And they let no opportunity pass to remind him of just that.

They are also absolutely right.

“My lawyer advised me not to answer that question. Anyway, be nice. Have fun. Byyyye” 

Her voice trails off as she grabs her bag and rushes outside leaving Joel alone in this big empty house with nothing but his demons and this mysterious envelope.

Carefully he opens the seal and shakes out the contents. A postcard, a photo, and a — cassette tape? 

His eyes find the photo first. It’s a polaroid of him and Ellie and (Y/N). All 3 of them smiling, yes even him. He remembers that day back last summer. It was one of those warm but not yet hot days. (Y/N) was wearing that agonizingly beautiful red sundress. The one that made his heart beat twice as fast. She brought over a whole basket full of cherries from the tree in her garden. A pie too. And that damn Polaroid camera. 

Of course, Ellie was enamored by it, wasted almost the whole damn film. 

“Come on Joel, let's take a picture together,” she had called out to him and pulled him to sit down next to her and (Y/N) on the blanket they had placed on the lawn. 

“I’m not a picture guy,” he had grumbled, “ ain’t nobody want to see my old mug.” 

“Oh shut up. Joel, you are so handsome, don’t even pretend like you don’t know that.” 

It was the first time (Y/N) had ever called him handsome. It was hard for him to believe it then, hell it still is. But she has done it a lot more since then. Calls him handsome and gorgeous and pretty all the time. At first, he thought she was just humoring him but slowly but surely it dawned on him that she meant it. Means it still.

“We don’t know how many good sunny days we have left. Ain’t no shame in trying to remember this one, right?” 

Her eyes held so much honesty then. Vulnerability too. And gratefulness for all they had then after all they had lost. It made him smile then and it makes him smile now.

The Postcard is next, big bold letters spell out TEXAS and in the corner, there’s a drawing of the Texas State Capitol in Austin.

When he turns the Postcard over, there it is again, that swirly writing he’s grown to love so much. 

“Joel, the ‘Postcards from around the world’ book I got from the library didn’t have an Austin one but it did have a Texas one so that’ll have to do. I’m not even sure if you're going to read this. I hope you do because you didn't give me a chance to say my part when you stormed off & I think I deserve that.

You're not the man you were in Austin, you lived through the worst thing imaginable and it changed you. But you are not just your pain. It is part of you but it doesn't define you. I know you see all the bad but none of the good but believe me I see it! Ellie does! You are your pain but you are also the smile on Ellie's face when you bring her a new comic or teach her a song. You're the guitar chords echoing through the air on a warm spring afternoon. You are those fluttery feelings in my heart whenever you look at me.

Joel Miller, I understand if you don't want to be with me but if it's only because you don't think you're good enough then I think that's a choice I get to make. Taking that from me is a dick move. 

You said you're bad at showing love but you're not. You showed me through all those records. Through all those songs. Now let me love you back.”

Joel can’t quite name the feeling spreading through him. It’s both foreign and familiar at the same time. Like an old friend. A hazy memory. Pictures blurred and dulled by time and age. 

Maybe he was wrong, and he hates admitting that. Maybe he ain’t a good man but maybe that is hers to decide. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

He takes the cassette tape in his hand and squints his eyes at the tiny writing on the label. God, he really is getting old. Those eyes ain’t what they used to be.

God only knows - The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

You’re my best friend - Queen - A Night at the Opera

Just Like Heaven - The Cure - Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (you should!) 

In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel - So

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper - She’s so unusual

Your Song - Elton John - Elton John

Can’t Help Falling in Love - Elvis - Blue Hawaii

Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton - Slowhand

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs (!!!! LOVE SONGS!!!)

Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel - The Stranger

"You gave me all these records with all these songs and all these words to tell me you love me and I’m not sure you even knew.” 

And she’s right. He got her those records because he knew they’d make her smile. Because that smile means everything to him whether he wants to admit it or not. He got those records to show her that even when he’s gone on a run, she’s always on his mind. He believed it to be a curse, a ghost haunting him for all his past mistakes and taunting him with what he shall never have.

But maybe it’s not a curse. 

Maybe it’s a blessing. A sweet song to remind him that someone back home is waiting. A gentle reminder that life can and will go on and good things can come from immense tragedy. And moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, in fact, it means remembering. Remembering the bad and believing that there can and will be good and that it’s worth it to go on. Even if you are a different you. Not worse or better, just changed. And that you deserve love. And kindness. And warmth.

Joel drops the envelope and its contents on the table and grabs his thick winter jacket as he rushes outside. The cold feels only half as bad as it nips at his skin, he barely notices. There is a fire inside him now, burning away all the doubts and hesitation. 

He’s back at her door, only this time he doesn’t wait to knock. He’s spent so much time denying himself the one thing he wants that he can’t lose just one second more. The rapping of his knuckles against her door echoes through the winter day. Oh, how he can’t wait for the spring and the summer and her in that gorgeous dress. 

“Joel?” 

Back before — everything, Joel remembers a movie night with Sarah. She got to choose and despite being an avid fan of trashy action and horror movies, that time she chose a romantic comedy. All things considered, Joel can admit that when Harry met Sally wasn’t the worst choice but he still would’ve preferred Star Wars or Terminator. 

He does remember the ending though, the grand finale. He remembers Sarah trying to wipe away tears without him noticing. And he remembers Billy Crystal’s words “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” 

Back then he thought it was some silly, cheesy movie speak. No one feels that way, right? It’s grandiose and kitschy for the sake of movie magic.

But no, he’s sure now, that one is true. Because it’s how he feels.

“I love you!” 

That confession should come with ribbons and flowers and fireworks but it doesn’t. It comes with honesty and that is all that matters. It comes from the heart.

“Huh?” 

“I got your postcard. The photo too and the tape. And I love you.” 

“I know. Took you long enough to figure it out.” 

“I’m sorry. I — I still believe that I am not a good man and that you deserve better. But it would be selfish to punish you for my own insecurities. I love you and I want to let you love me. If you still want to, that is.” 

“Joel Miller?”

“Yeah?” 

“Please just fucking kiss me.” 

Joel remembers a lot of kisses in his lifetime. Some rushed, some clumsy. Quick kisses in secret. Long drawn-out smooches in smokey bars. Loving, fast, aggressive, and soft. 

This one is different, as cheesy as it sounds.

This kiss makes him feel like all he’s ever been and all he ever will be can live in peace with one another. This kiss makes him feel like none of it matters as long as he has her. 

She tastes like peppermint and sunshine and he’s sure he’ll never get enough of her. The feeling of her skin against his as he gently cradles her face in his hand. The soft movements on her chest as she breathes. The twitch of her lips as she smiles into the kiss.

For the first time in his life, Joel is sure that a kiss is more than a kiss. It’s a healing hand on a shattered heart. It’s a new path to a new future. It’s sunshine melting the ice from his bones.

It’s a promise to try every day and to be better and to be enough. ---

[cherryskyies]

What your favorite slasher says about you — part two

includes: og michael myers, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair

this is just the start of my slasher writing. so far, they are winning on the poll, so what better way to start than to finish old pieces?

please bare w me, my writing is a smidge rusty ok 😔

Masterlist || Navigation || a03

Og Michael Myers

I can't explain it well, but he is the equivalent of that inner cold feeling when you were at your lowest. You can still remember it in memories and it's a comfort you can't let go. It's giving major attachment issues, even to things that ruined you. Letting go of your past is like letting go of yourself — you can't do it.

You weren't listened to growing up either, and maybe even now you still aren't. Advice was given, especially when you didn't want it. You're desperate to have someone just listen.

Alone time is a must in your life, you can't have someone all up in your business 24/7. 

Probably a water sign with an air moon. Or a Taurus who never had stability.

Rough sex is a must. I mean, it's Michael. Rough is the only way you'll get it and you like it like that. Also, it's giving blood & knife play vibes.

Very independent. You'd rather die than have to depend on another person for necessities. 

Bo Sinclair

It's giving possible substance abuse or alcoholism. I mean, you only drink Monday-Sunday?? What's the harm in that?

You crave possession in a relationship. Maybe you never felt special, so it's a must to have a partner willing to kill for you and show you off.

Bondage is definitely an interest of yours. You might be into forced submission and definitely into being covered in marks. 

It's also giving daddy issues. Something about an older man calling you baby and sweetheart sends you into overdrive. You want him to provide and you want him to make most of the decisions while you sit pretty.

You've never experienced a stable relationship either, especially with men, so you don't care that he'd be toxic. You only care that he's there and not likely to leave. 

Probably an earth sign or neglected fire sign.

Vincent Sinclair

Either an only child or the ignored one — maybe both.

Body worship is a must. Nothing more attractive than a man that makes you feel special, loved, and seen.

You don't care about money or expensive dates and trips. You'd be happy with a picnic and spending alone time together, because to you it means more than anything money could buy. 

Definitely insecure yourself, so you're drawn to those with obvious flaws; not that you think he's flawed, but it gives a deeper understanding.

Actions mean more than words. You've likely been let down by those who have said they would do something, but never did. 

Soft, meaningful sex is your style. If you can't feel an emotional connection or you don't feel loved during, then you aren't happy and begin to feel insecure in the relationship. 

You enjoy peace and tranquility. Maybe you're an artist or it simply fascinates you due to the complexity and millions of meanings. Do you stay up and think about the past and it's art, wondering what was going through their minds and what they had witnessed to create it?

[im-the-j-in-anthony-j-crowley]

Okay, here me out, i can't stop thinking about demons and the fact that many of them can't spell

Crowley says that spelling is not their strong point, and we see this exemplified especially in Shax and Furfur, but now recently it occurred to me to look up how to pronounce food in Italian. Remember Hastur? If you look it up, you'll notice it's cibo, and if you listen to the pronunciation, you'll notice it's VERY similar to the pronunciation of ciao (what Crowley says in that scene, remember?).

Learning this is what gives me a start for what I had been thinking for quite some time, because at the beginning I thought that the spelling thing was something for only the lower level demons, after all, Shax and Furfur have leveled up, but initially they were at the bottom. But not Hastur, Hastur is a duke of hell.

And the confusion between cibo and ciao proves that he must likewise have some kind of problem with language comprehension.

Also, I want to add, I'm not entirely sure if this is a good point, because I may be influenced by the fact that I'm not a native speaker, but Dagon's motivational speech doesn't directly reflect poor language use, but I get a sense that it doesn't reflect great command of it either

And then we go to Crowley, I assume we all think at first glance that Crowley has no problem with language, right? But let me remind you of something: Crowley hates books.

Yes, he has books. But the one book we see, has pictures, lots of pictures. An illustrated astronomy book. In addition to this, Crowley demonstrates a strong dislike of books. Contempt. Hatred. Yes, we've seen him write things. Yes, they are well written. But it doesn't seem to be something he enjoys

With all of this information, I'm going to reach the conclusion that ALL demons have a problem with language, especially written language. Even despite the fact that they are able to speak every existing language.

And I feel that this is a curious detail, because taking into account the powers they have, one would think that they could compensate those difficulties by miracles, right?

They don't. They still have those errors, and you could say it's because none of them have thought of it but... Really? None of them have thought of it? In 6000 years? I don't believe it.

So it must be something intrinsic, there's something they can't change that makes it difficult for them to write/spell.

And we could even go further, because one of the things I find curious, is the fact that Shax has problems with sarcasm. A demon, problems with sarcasm. No one in 6000 years spoke sarcastically to Shax?

I don't have enough arguments to add this as a collective demon problem, since Shax is (I think) the only one we've seen with that problem, but it's something close enough to mention.

Mixing all this up, I should mention the big elephant in the room: Demons have written records of who enters hell

We've already established that the difficulties with language go as far as the dukes, and I feel it's not jumping too far if we say that Beelzebub and Satan possibly shouldn't be spared.

So, who are these reports for? It's not like they're going to read them, I know that's hell, but why would they force themselves to go through that torture?

The only thing that makes sense is that those reports are for someone external, and there are only two options: heaven, or directly God.

And both options seem pretty cruel to me, because we know one thing: angels can read.

Aziraphale can, Muriel can, Gabriel can, we don't have any example of an angel who can't read. Crowley had a book before he fell. So we can assume that demons could read.

They could, and the fact that now they can't makes me see only one possible explanation: Falling caused them those problems.

And I feel that if we mix my two conclusions, the ending is something very ugly. Demons have problems with language, especially written language. Those problems started when they were expelled from heaven. They make written records that are possibly presented to those who turned them into demons.

Basically it is a very strong level of cruelty.

Please recognize the demon's rights. They still deserve to have rights

[sugar-omi]

good lord I was trying to study but out of nowhere I know where🩸this came into my mind:

having a night in at ur grown up house w cove derek and baxter (only dating cove) and everyone gets wasted asf so they sleep over and late at night the other two can hear u and cove in ur bedroom 👀 ykwim?

the smut and angst potential of them getting off to listening to u two from their respective guest rooms and the irony of both ur guests doing it omggggggg 🫣

in the morning neither of them can properly look at u two out of shame and u and cove r just embarrassed cause u think it’s just cause they heard u (and ofc ur only half right)

these ideas fr come to me at the worst time lol

-🗑️

I AM SCREAMING. YOU'RE SO BRILLIANT I CAN'T.... derek would really try not to, but i feel like it'd end up seeping into his dreams and he just can't resist. and baxterrrr omg... he'd be so embarrassed n ashamed, i dont think he'd be able to sleep the rest of the night at all, even once you n cove are done... pls you sent this at the perfect time bc i was about to start writing n i cannot focus until i write this now, i must have this in a fic.. n ik it isn't what you're talking about, but this is also so good n i instantly thought abt this scenario. i will take ANY chance for derek n baxter to fall in love or into bed LOL

tags : NSFW, baxter x derek, one night stand (UNLESS), you and cove drink, auralism*, oral (derek receiving), top/dom baxter, bottom derek, derek has a crush on you/MC, baxter has a thing for both of you or maybe he's just a kinky bastard

*to be aroused by sound. (can be compared with voyeurism)

synopsis : baxter and derek are staying with you for an extended vacation (much needed for both of them.) and while you two have been considerate and lovely hosts, you're a bit loud... not that it's a problem. quite the opposite actually..

imagine baxter is pouring himself a glass of wine, unable to get your and cove's muffled moans out of his head.

he's generous with his pouring, since everyone already had a lot to drink during dinner, being reserved is unnecessary.

baxter tips back his cup, licking his lips, savoring the sweet taste of this wine, humming at the taste. not bad..

he's checking the label, wanting to remember the brand so he can add it to his shelves at home.

"oh."

baxter looks up, tired eyes wide at the sudden guest. he's met with derek's wide eyes, equally tired..

baxter gives a lopsided smile, trying to be friendly with his new friend. he gestures to the barstools across from him, "care to join me?"

derek rubs his neck shyly, "ah, i wouldn't want to impose. i just came for some water.."

baxter shakes his head, leaning back on the island, taking a sip of his wine. if he knew he'd have company, he wouldn't have poured so much at once.

he licks his lips, trying not to eye his glass to see if it looks like an reasonable amount of wine. trying to preserve his put together image is fruitless anyway, baxter is a hot mess walking and you could probably smell his issues all the way from france.

"nonsense, i wouldn't mind company. the best conversations are best shared under the stars, i'd say. although, i won't blame if you're going bak to bed." baxter laughs to himself humorlessly. "probably a better idea than getting drunk again."

derek laughs, "well, if you don't mind the company then.." and goes about grabbing some water before sitting across from baxter, trying to be quiet when he drags out the barstool.

there's a stretch of silence between them, the two of them sipping their drinks and baxter plays off his awkwardness by admiring the photo collage in the hallway, visible through the wide doorway.

baxter turns back to derek, who's holding his water with both hands, dozily looking into the glass. he looks up and is surprised to meet baxter's sharp gaze, but plays it off with a smile.

baxter speaks lazily, his movements languished and his bones heavy. he's feeling warm from the wine, and a bit chatty. "couldn't sleep either, huh?"

derek laughs, "that obvious?"

baxter shrugs, speaking around the lip of his wineglass. "i figured we're in the same boat."

derek stills, his cheeks slowly filling red, and he looks up, trying to figure out if he's trying to say he also heard you and cove doing... it. the other night.

baxter bounces his eyebrows, and that makes derek flush brightly, looking down. "y-yeah, i guess we are.."

he laughs, covering his mouth to muffle the noise.

derek seems to relax a bit at his amusement, and eventually they relax a bit more, and baxter goes on to tell derek more of his wedding horror stories when he asks.

they're laughing, trying to muffle the sound with their hands when they get too loud, and baxter is leaned over the counter, rambling to derek as softly as possible.

baxter signs and shakes his head, a smile still on his lips as he takes another sip. he's definitely getting buzzed again.

and at some point baxter even sits next to him and derek seems to greatly enjoy baxter's open laughter and his wide gestures as he narrates his stories, even throwing up his own chaotic stories about what it was like growing up with his brothers.

"hey.." derek calls, and baxter hums curiously in response. "does that taste good?"

baxter raises his brow but tips his glass towards derek. "it is. it has notes of peach and honey... wanna try?"

derek glances between baxter's eyes and the wine, nodding, taking the glass from his hands and taking a long sip...

baxter's eyes are stuck on derek's lips, his eyes following how his throat bobs when he swallows and his tongue dashes out to lick the wine running down the corner of his lips..

baxter snaps his eyes back towards derek's, who's already looking back at him.

the silence seems long, and the distance between derek and baxter's lips seems even longer, and he feels antsy even though they're both leaning in, their lips meeting in the middle in a soft kiss.

derek deepens the kiss, leaning into baxter, and humming into the kiss when baxter starts rubbing his thigh, his fingers sliding down th fabric of his sweatpants until he's touching his inner thigh, dangerously close to his bulge..

a moan echoes, and baxter and derek break apart, panting and their lips wet and swollen. then they hear it again, and some muffled talking.

they look into each others eyes, unable to move. they're both wide awake now, both because of that hot kiss and the sounds of cove's deep, and futile muffled moans.

their chests rise and fall, tension in the air, mingling with something else...

derek speaks first, taking baxter's hand before he can pull away. "do you... should we go to your room?"

baxter blinks owlishly, shocked and flustered. but really fucking turned on.

"yes, yeah, yeah okay.." he stumbles his words, totally knocked off his feet by the way derek looks at him, his green eyes deep with lust, and the whole turn of events.

derek leads him down the hall, and baxter is grateful he didn't somehow knock over the barstool or the flower vase in the hall.

they walk past your shared bedroom, baxter's designated room for his stay, at the end of the hall.

baxter tries to ignore the way his cock throb when he hears cove curse and growl, "fuck, you're so warm..." he tries not to think about it, but the idea of what you two are getting up to, how you both look and sound, what you're doing to each other...

he's trying not to let his mind run away with him but he's admittedly, a weak man. and so is derek, if the way he clutches his hand tighter and all but shoves baxter through the door and closes the door a bit louder than he should.

you and cove always drown out all other forms of life when you're together, and baxter doubts it's much different in the bedroom, if not "worse."

derek pushes baxter to sit on the bed, standing over him, his legs on either side of baxter's lap and he pulls off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

baxter licks his lips, his hands sliding up derek's waist and stomach, his body thick and toned with muscles... "goddamn..." baxter exhales, all but drooling at the sight.

derek laughs shyly, lifting his arm to rub his neck (a nervous tick baxter has come to realize) and the muscles in his arm stretches and flex. baxter has a distant thought about derek being able to manhandle him...

"is this okay?" derek asks, suddenly shy now.

baxter nods, leaning in to kiss along derek's bronze stomach, his lips trailing down his happy trail to his bulge. "more than okay.."

baxter tugs on derek's sweatpants, looking up at him. "let me know if you want to stop..."

he tugs down derek's pants and underwear, letting his cock spring free. baxter strokes his cock to full mast, and derek holds onto baxter's hand for support, his other hand coming up to muffle his moan.

baxter wraps his lips around derek's flushed tip, sucking and circling his tongue over the head.

"b-baxter..." derek gasps, his thighs shaking.

baxter takes him deeper down his throat, keeping eye contact as he swallows around his cock, reaching down to palm his own bulge through his satin pajamas.

he groans, the vibrations sending shivers up derek's spine and derek mumbles, his fingers finding their way to baxter's hair, clinging onto the already messy locks.

baxter tears his hand away from his hard-on, to undo the buttons on his pajama shirt, the buttons slipping through his fingers until his shirt is wide open.

"mhm-!" baxter startles, gripping onto derek's thighs, his hips bucking up into his warm mouth.

derek moans shakily, "oh f- i'm sorry. sorry.." he babbles, pushing back baxter's fringe, his thighs twitching and his muscles clenching under baxter's hands.

baxter hums around derek's length, patting his thigh. his tongue drags along the underside of his cock, baxter's lips pulling off him with a pop, his lips wet and puffy.

baxter's sharp, lustful eyes meeting derek's equally horny gaze. derek's flushed cheeks are a feast for baxter's eyes, he can't wait to have him in bed..

"do you.. wanna go further?" baxter asks, his hand making obscene wet noises from all the pre-cum and spit, as he strokes derek's cock in his fist.

derek nods, his throat bobbing as he tries not to fall to his knees or cry out and alert you and cove to what they're doing in here.. "yes, please.."

baxter pulls away, standing up to tug off the rest of his clothes while derek tugs off his pants, almost tripping when the leg gets stuck on his ankle but baxter ignores it since he's not very elegant either, the wine still buzzing through him.

he throws his clothes on the floor, all but throwing himself into the bed with derek, straddling his lap as he captures his lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping past derek's lips, guiding his tongue to move with his own.

derek grips baxter's waist, his hands pulling him down to grind him into his lap, their cocks sliding together.

baxter breaks the kiss, his lips falling to derek's neck...

"cove- cove- cove!" your cry is heard through the wall, followed by muffled moans and whimpers.

"ah!" derek moans, his fingrs digging into the plush of baxter's hips when he bites down on his neck.

"oh- sorry. did i hurt you?" he worries, kissing the area soothingly. he didn't expect you to.. cry out so loudly. not that you aren't allowed to be loud in your own home, or anything like that. he just didn't think you'd sound so hot.

he's trying not to think about if he wishes it was his name on your lips, or what cove is doing to make you call his name so loudly and lewdly...

derek shakes his head, or tries too with baxter under his chin. "i mean, it hurt but.. it wasn't bad..." derek admits shyly.

baxter smiles, pulling off his neck to kiss his lips again, smiling too much to kiss properly but they have all night for that anyway...

he leans over the edge of the bed for his bag, fumbling through the open inner pocket for a condom and lube.

it's not that baxter planned to get laid on this trip, it's just bad to be unprepared.

"do you want to be on top?" baxter inquires, pointing the condom at derek.

he flushes, licking his lips and glancing off to the side. "um.. if you don't mind, you can be on top..."

baxter raises his brows, a blush high on his cheeks.

ohh derek really is interesting.

"not at all." baxter purrs, fixing their position so one of derek's legs is on his shoulder, and the other over his thigh.

he slowly sinks one, then two, then three digits into derek's hole, scissoring his fingers and rubbing derek's thigh soothingly. he's such a mess just from his fingers alone, derek's face half buried in the pillow and his hips bucking up and his thighs shaking.

"that's-" derek pants, swallowing thickly. "that's enough... put it in.. please..." he gasps, peeking at baxter through his lashes.

"fuck..." baxter curses, his stomach dipping with lust.

he fumbles, trying to open the condom but his fingers are covered in lube and he ends up ripping it with his teeth impatiently. baxter rolls it over his length, leaning over to pull derek into a kiss as he sinks into him.

"hmmn!" derek mewls into the kiss, his arms coming to lock around baxter's neck.

baxter slams his hips into derek, a loud slap sounding through the room from baxter's hips meeting his ass. baxter breaks the kiss, hissing.

that was definitely too loud, but it's also been so long since he's been with someone, and derek is so charming, that he's not sure he cares..

derek moans, trying to stifle it by biting his lips.

they pant, letting derek adjust to his length and for them to catch their breath, baxter feels like the air has been knocked out of him with how derek's hot walls are wrapped around him, his hole clenching and flutter around him, trying to take him deeper.

"mn, y/n-" cove voice is muffled, keeping them from hearing the rest of his sentence. although it was probably cut short, if the deep groan they hear through the wall is anything to go by.

baxter pants, "i'm.. i'mma start moving..." he gasps, moving so he's sitting up again, his hand pushing derek's knee up towards his chest.

derek covers his mouth with his hand, baxter's cock dragging so slowly against his walls, his eyes rolling and fluttering shut when his tip bumps against a sensitive spot in his walls, dangerously close to his prostate..

"harder!- ha- oh fuck!" you curse and moan unabashedly loud, followed by your bed frame thumping against the wall.

it quiets down to some creaking, with dull thumps every now and then.

baxter picks up the pace of his thrusts, spurred on by all your sounds from the other room and derek's lewd expressions.

derek whimpers, his moans and cries barely muffled by his hand and when baxter's hips slam into his repeatedly, he can't hold onto his barrage of moans and whines, babbling nonsense.

baxter leans over him, forcing his legs against his chest so he can whisper in derek's ear, stuffing his fingers down derek's throat, his middle and ring fingers pressing on his tongue.

"shh, darling. they'll hear us..." baxter purrs, although he laughs and nods his head to the side, "although, i think being quiet is a bit useless for all of us at this point."

derek whimpers around baxter's fingers, drool pooling in his mouth. he closes his lips around the digits and sucks, swallowing, dragging his tongue along baxter's fingers seductively..

"god." baxter grunts, his face scrunching up in pleasure.

his hips thrust up into derek's g-spot, his thrusts shallow as they both get closer and closer to finishing.

baxter pulls his fingers from derek's lips, a string of spit connecting derek's lips to the digits before it breaks, his hand slipping between their bodies to stroke derek's weeping cock, pre-cum pooling along the valley of his abs...

baxter captures derek in a sloppy kiss, neither of them really trying to hold back their sounds anymore. and from the sounds of it, you and cove aren't worried about being quiet either, your moans more frequent and totally unrestrained.

"i'm gonna-" derek pants, his nails dragging down baxter's shoulder.

"go ahead. cum. cum for me." baxter growls, his hand abusing derek's sensitive tip, making short strokes.

derek's legs shake on either side of him, his eyes rolling as he cums into baxter's hand. baxter groans, his hips stuttering as derek clenched around him, filling the condom.

they melt into each other, their chests rising and falling, and their heavy breathing match.

baxter turns his head to the side, seeing the sky turn from night to early morning..

"i'll.." he pants, pushing himself off derek's chest. "i'll run a bath... wanna join me?"

[wings-of-ink]

I haven't been able to find a post on the answer of whether or not you can start a more polyamorous relationship with Oswin and Duri, so I just wanted to ask would it be possible, this is in part due to Oswin's like of wolves and the sort of rivalry the two seem to have over Ravi's attention when choosing more passive flirts, specifically how it falls in line with a more brat like dynamic. Completely understand if we cant, as I assume it would take a fair bit of effort to even introduce, but also create and write scenarios like the solo routes, but just wanted to ask

Nony, I am terribly sorry, but I can't find that question either. I remember reading it, and I think I remember answering, too! But I have searched over and over, and it isn't there. Depending on when I answered, I may have crossed my wires and accidentally deleted it or something. I have been known to have a couple tabs open for posts and asks and all that, and I must have bungled it! Or maybe I am just overlooking it.

So I'll answer for you here instead.

There won't be any poly relationships in GC, though I can see how one between those two could feel like it would jive as you said. But both Oswin and Duri would not do well long-term in a true polyamorous relationship. They both would end up toxically jealous of each other and it would not be harmonious or healthy. I don't see them necessarily falling for each other either. Oswin especially does not have it within him to truly (romantically) love more than one person at a time. They will be friends, but not any more than that.