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[drchucktingle]

non-dysphoric soul

i am not a religious buckaroo and dont think i ever will be. this universe is so wonderful and my life so blessed that idea of needing something more does not make any sense to me. what we KNOW about existence already takes my breath away, i do not need the unknown. i am so happy and thankful as is

HOWEVER i am also curious and while i do not NEED the grand unknown i find it exciting and romantic sometimes. i FEEL it in art, and i am not arrogant enough to think 'i know everything'. i do not. so there is a door within me that is open to something spiritual for lack of a better word.

lately i feel the door opening wider and wider and while i think most folks think of my agnostic trot as a sort of SIDEKICK to atheism, to me it is really its own thing that has plenty of room for thoughts of 'well maybe there is something more? i do not know so lets bask in it and see what happens'

i think single most important part of my journey as spiritual buckaroo has been self reflection and personal understanding of my own non-dysphoric transness. which is interesting because i think some who CLAIM to be spiritual in the specific american christian sense have a large anti-trans history

and it makes me think ‘kinda wild that you can believe in a soul that is distinct from all the firing neurons and churning cells of your body, some separate trot outside of known matter and energy, and then claim that this soul ALWAYS ends up in a correspondingly gendered slot?’ couldnt wires cross?

REMINDER i am not a religious person. i am not sure if there is a soul out there that defies any sort of quantifiable trot. maybe this SELF i feel is just electrical currents of a brain trying VERY HARD to convince itself of something more. the jury is out. ITS OKAY. in fact the mystery is beautiful

over time, i feel like i get hints from the jury, one or two heads poppin out from the jury chambers to wink and say there is something more. A SOUL. whether that soul is a wonder of science of a wonder of the great beyond will probably never be answered. that is just fine with me. i do not need it

point is, my understanding of my own self and my non-dysphoric trans way can BEST (maybe ONLY) be described in terms of a soul. i have no desire to change, no dysphoria, no plans. it has never had a impact on my life and very likely never will, but feeling is true. id be lying to say otherwise.

so with all the politics around gender and who can identify as what and on and on, i find myself saying ‘well my soul is this, and my body is this, and that is fine. i love my body and i love my soul and they happen to be two different trots’. its easy to miss the SOUL part of that conversation

'A SOUL?' i suddenly think. 'WHAT THE HECK? YOU DONT BELIEVE IN SOULS'. and i have to remind myself, ‘well you dont believe in anything really, you DONT KNOW’ and while most see this proclamation of not knowing as being closed off to all things, i see it as being open to all things

and i am grateful. how lucky that this rare sensation of soul and body disconnection could happen TO ME? because it declares THERE IS A SOUL. i know to others the trans journey is hard and i dont want to diminish that. it can be pain it can be torture. but thats not my story and theres room for all

because every day that i notice MY disconnection between body and soul is a day i get to reach into the great beyond, into the vast cosmos, and feel around for a while. i still do not expect to find anything, but DANG is it fun. and DANG is it exciting to be alive in a way that proves love to myself

[jjenthusee]

back again with my jason college au because i’m waiting for the bus and it’s cold rn so i need his jacket that ik is oversized cause that man is built like a train. need something breath taking like him personally wrapping a scarf around you, fluffing it until it becomes a playful game of trying to cover your face entirely. doing the sly game of warming up your hands and if your sleeves allow it then he goes up your wrists slowly, rubbing the skin and mellowly letting his thumb and fingers reach just up to your forearms, but he stops because anymore and he will try to be one with you and somehow fizzle into your jacket. hugging with INTENTION. yeah he can be lenient but when that man WANTS a hug??? it’s over, you’re not leaving for a good minute or two. when it does happen you sway your body with his because he wants to be so in sync with u that he naturally follows the rhythm. i wouldn’t say jason has the best study schedule (it’s college we’re all trying to survive) but he really tries to get a decent one down because he really is a giver and wants to help alleviate SOMETHING to help u manage classes, meals, or a ride. idk why but i picture him carrying around the really big water jugs, no explanation there it just feels right lol. evening/morning talks on the grass??? perfect when he’s sitting right next to you, watching joggers pass by, petting a dog, maybe sharing a quick snack together. then there’s a gentle tension as u look at him, he feels the stare and looks back at u, holding onto it. there’s something so right about the moment, it feels important like a shift to maybe realizing this is more than a college relationship and u can feel the patience and trust as jason’s face softens like he’s thinking the exact same thing but the sprinklers turn on and you’re running. jason runs to u to somehow shield your clothes but its too late and you’re standing in the pouring water but what the hell, u grab his hand and kiss it and go home to change. luckily, your back is turned and the water is cold so jason feels the flush on his ears cool just slightly

[lvnleah]

the boss | bug’s adventures.

The tactical analysis room was your favourite place to be before training. It was warm, full of voices you knew, and best of all, you got to run around and say hello to everyone before settling into Lotte’s lap with your daily smoothie.

You were only three, but as far as you were concerned, you were just as important as anyone else in the room. Maybe even more.

“Alright, who let the little troublemaker in?” Beth teased as you ran past her chair, your little trainers squeaking against the floor.

You stopped in your tracks and gave her the best glare you could manage. “I not trouble!”

Beth smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, really?”

You pointed at her accusingly. “You is.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Renee, standing by the screen at the front, just shook her head fondly. “I don’t know she any of you even try arguing. You know She always wins.”

You grinned and took a dramatic sip from your smoothie which was just like Lotte’s, but without the weird protein stuff. Just fruit. Because you were very clear that the other stuff was, in your words, yucky.

“Careful, bug,” Renee added, watching as you took off running again. “We don’t need any injuries before training!”

“I’m fast,” you declared proudly. “Faster than all of ‘ou.”

That earned some amused scoffs from around the room.

“Oh yeah?” Alessia grinned, reaching out to tickle your side as you ran past her. “Faster than me?”

You giggled, swatting at her hand. “Yep.”

Alessia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Wow, just like that? No hesitation?”

“Nope.”

Emily, sitting next to her, snickered. “She’s got no mercy, Less.”

“None at all,” Alessia agreed. “I might cry.”

“You big,” you pointed out matter-of-factly, tilting your head at her. “You can’t cry.”

“Hey bug, be nice yeah?” Lotte reminded you, “It’s okay for anyone to cry, we need to be nice to everyone, okay?”

“I always nice, Mummy!” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest, “It’ okay to cry, Lessi!” You said, patting her knee. 

“Thank you for your permission, bug,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. 

Lotte, watching from her chair with an amused smile, patted her lap. “Alright, Bug, come here before you actually take someone out.”

You made one more dramatic sprint across the room before clambering onto Katie’s lap first, because she always let you get away with things like stealing her hat. You plopped it onto your head, adjusting it until it sat just right.

“Oi, that’s mine,” Katie pointed out. “Yer’ a little devil!”

You crossed your arms. “Mine now.”

Katie smirked. “Oh yeah? And what if I take it back?”

You narrowed your eyes, gripping the hat tighter. “I’ll tell Mummy.”

The room erupted in laughter again, and Lotte raised an eyebrow. “What am I supposed to do about it, Bug?”

You thought about it for a second before shrugging. “Dunno but you fix stuff.”

With that, you wiggled off Katie’s lap and made your way over to Leah, who lifted you easily onto her knee. “Oi, what about me little miss? No hello?”

You grinned. “Hi, Le.” Then, very seriously, you added, “Mummy’s smoothie is still yucky.”

Kyra burst out laughing. “Tell her again, I don’t think she heard you.”

You turned in your seat, looking right at Lotte. “Yucky smoothie!”

Lotte sighed dramatically. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

Emily leaned over, grinning. “What’s wrong with it, Bug?”

You wrinkled your nose. “It’ got bits and it’ green.”

Alessia laughed. “The spinach?”

You nodded furiously. “Yucky.”

Beth leaned in with a teasing grin as she tickled your stomach. “But what if that’s what makes Mummy strong, huh? Maybe you need some ‘yucky bits’ to get as fast as you say you are.”

You squealed. “No! I don’ need bits to be fast! I’m already fast!” You turned to Renee, who was still standing at the front, arms crossed and watching the chaos with a fond smile. “Tell ‘em, you the boss!”

Renee chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, I believe you, Bug. But maybe you should prove it, yeah?”

Your eyes lit up, and before anyone could stop you, you wiggled off Leah’s lap and bolted across the room, dodging between chairs and weaving past legs like a little whirlwind. “See? Fast!”

Lotte just sighed, watching you bounce on your toes, clearly ready to take off again. “Bug, come here before you knock someone over.”

You sighed dramatically, because everything you did had to be dramatic, but made your way back over to Lotte, climbing onto her lap with a huff. She adjusted you easily, one arm wrapped around you as she took a sip of her smoothie.

You wrinkled your nose again. “Still yucky, stinky too!”

Katie reached over, tapping your nose lightly. “You know, for someone who says they’re nice, you’re very passionate about Mummy’s smoothie.”

“I am nice!” you insisted. “I just tell the truth.”

Beth laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”

Renee clapped her hands once, bringing the room’s attention back to her. “Alright, enough distractions. You lot have training, and I’ve got things to go over.”

You sighed again, clearly unimpressed by the change in focus. “Boring.”

“Hey,” Renee scolded lightly, though her smile gave her away. “You like it in here, don’t you?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your smoothie. “Yeah. ‘Cause I get cuddles. I be the boss today?”

The whole room laughed, and Lotte pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Alright, little miss Sassypants, time to behave while Renee talks.”

You huffed but snuggled closer, resting your head against Lotte’s shoulder. “Okay… but after, I wanna race.”

Renee raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And who are you challenging?”

You grinned, eyes scanning the room before pointing directly at Alessia. “Lessi!”

The room exploded with laughter. “Oh, so first I’m not allowed to cry, and now you wanna embarrass me in a race?” Alessia laughed. 

You nodded. “Yep.”

Emily leaned in, grinning. “Better warm up, Less.”

You beamed, wiggling excitedly in Lotte’s lap. “I gonna win.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Alessia teased. “I might have to drink a special yucky smoothie to make sure I’m fast enough.”

You scrunched your nose in horror. “No, Lessi, don’t do it!”

The room erupted in laughter again, and Lotte chuckled, squeezing you tighter. “Alright, that’s enough troublemaking for now.”

You giggled, leaning back against Lotte’s chest, content as the chatter settled and Renee started talking again. You were a little whirlwind and no one minded your little personality. 

[revelboo]

i don't really send in asks often because im much more of a lurker than an interactor, but i think its important that you know how much your work is appreciated. like im reading Everything you put out just because your work is that good and im engaged with characters i barely even Know. you've made me love characters i didn't even give a second glance to. ALSO THE MINI FIGURES. you make me crave them so bad. Everything Is Alright tugs so badly at my heart and i Eagerly await every time you update that one, it's so good and so long and definitely worthy if reread after reread

Thank you! I have a lot of fun writing these stories!

Everything Is Alright Pt 134

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “You realize Starscream is likely to take you sparking our mate without warning poorly,” Megatron adds and Soundwave vents softly. Watching as Soundwave shifts over you and slides a hand under your middle to make you whimper a sleepy protest at being moved. Hates that the soft noise lifts through him. That he likes it. And then Soundwave is mass shifting back, head sagging forward as his hands tremble faintly cupping you. Needing energon. Your head sleepily lifts before you spot him and then just groan, pressing your face against Soundwave’s palm. ‘Always when I’m naked,’ you mutter. Laughing softly, Megatron ignores that you’re not happy to see him. Pretends that it doesn’t bother him. That even though this is his habsuite, he feels like the intruder as Soundwave fixes his plating to hide away his spike and Megatron reaches to nudge your head until you shoot him a sullen look.

• Swallowing a growl and surprised that he even has the urge to growl at Megatron, Soundwave doesn’t pull you away from Megatron’s reach as the warlord smirks at your attempts to slap at his servo. Lazily toying with you. And he knows the Seeker is likely to throw a tantrum as soon as he finds out, but he can’t even bring himself to care if he upsets Starscream after what the mech had done to him and you both. “What happened to not molesting me?” You ask, smacking Megatron when he uses a servo to roll you onto your back. Growling softly, Soundwave moves you away from the warlord and Megatron shoots him a knowing look, but relents.

• Scowling and desperately wanting a shower, you try to draw your legs up against yourself so everything isn’t just on display even if you can feel Soundwave’s slick between your thighs, too used to all three of them not caring about embarrassing you to even muster the energy to care yourself. Much anyway. And eventually, Megatron is probably going to want more than spark bonding from you. “I wonder which of you is going to tell Starscream you’re sparked. Or will you just let him figure it out on his own?” Megatron asks, grinning wickedly like your misery is the funniest thing ever. Sparked? That’s right. Paling, you remember Soundwave asking and you’d pretty much begged him to. Was that what that coaxing feeling was after you fully bonded with him? Star had done something like that when he’d sparked you now that you’re thinking of it. There had been a sense of a question there like when they’d bonded you fully. Like there was a choice before that coaxing pull. Both times you’d given in to that request without a thought. Why can’t any of them ask important things when you’re not a needy mess during sex? “Of course, I could tell him,” Megatron adds. Enjoying this far too much.

• “Don’t you dare,” you hiss, little face reddening and Megatron chuckles. Ferocious little thing even though you have no way to back up the unspoken threat in your voice. And that anger of yours sparks through him. Goes straight to his spike in a flush of need. Reminding him that even though he’s fully bonded to you and carrying your new spark, he’s yet to physically claim you. Smile faltering at that, he clears his vents in a loud huff. “You blurt it out to him and I’ll never forgive you.” Chin lifting, you glare at him and he can’t understand what it is about you that makes your pitiful little threat actually matter to him.

• Star. Not looking forward to his reaction to finding out you’re fully bonded and sparked again, even though he seemed resigned to it happening. It still feels like a betrayal. Shoulders hunching, you look pleadingly up at Soundwave. Because you have to be the one to tell him. Gently. “I need a shower. And I’d kill for coffee,” you whine, not about to have this conversation with Star while Soundwave’s excess trails down your thighs. Head tipping at you, Soundwave just stares, but it’s not like he has a clue what coffee even is. ‘The shower part I can help with,’ Megatron says, gesturing toward his desk and you register the plastic draped shape tucked in a corner there. ‘The Constructicons had a few ideas.’ Watching him curiously as he gets up and reaches to tug the plastic away, you just stare. It’s a dollhouse. A human sized dollhouse. “There’s a working shower?” Because nothing else matters beyond a shower and some semblance of privacy. “I could kiss you,” you add and he hesitates like you’d just said something weird. Offended him somehow. Aliens.

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[bonelyheartsclub]

♡ Stretch - Valentine's One-Shot ♡

Written by @/buttergriffin332

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The moon was high in the sky, the stars twinkling and bright. The cold night air granted a nice breeze through the neighborhood, sending little chills into open windows and to those who happened to be up at this ungodly hour. A pleasant night to be curled up in bed, sleeping away to begin the next day. 

You were one of the many tucked away under the covers and pleasantly asleep. You’d have stayed asleep if not for the subtle chiming of your phone, the screen flashing on and shining right in your face. It seemed you had forgotten to put it on do not disturb mode. So you were roused from your slumber as you blindly reached for your phone. You moved to turn it off, but just barely caught who the notification was from. 

It was from Stretch.

‘Lemme in ;3’

You squinted in confusion at the text and watched as a second one arrived.

‘Hi :D’ 

“Wha…” You grumbled sleepily.

“Hi.” 

You yelped and jolted in your bed, sitting straight up as you gawked at the skeleton lazily peering through the window you left open last night. He just grinned as if he hadn’t just roused you from sleep and gave you the biggest scare of your life; at least, for the month. 

“Nice shirt.”

“Stretch? What are you doing here? It’s 3 in the morning.” You groaned, voice rough with sleep as you rubbed your eyes. You weren’t that tired anymore after the spook, but you certainly wished you could go back to sleep.

Stretch grunted and hopped through your window, plopping down on your bed with a sigh. “Couldn’t sleep.” He put his hands in his pockets and turned to you. “Wanna go out with me?”

You sighed and pulled a blanket over your shoulders. “Stretch, it’s the middle of the night. Nothing is going to be open.” 

He chuckled. “No, I mean literally. Do you wanna go out with me? Like for a walk.”

You tilted your head at him, confusion all over your face, and watched as Stretch’s goofy smile widened. “You, Stretch, are asking me to go for a walk?” You asked slowly.

“That’s how you know this relationship is serious. Only the very special people in my life know I walk outside in the dead of night with a flashlight when everyone else in the neighborhood is asleep.” His smile was unbelievably large at this point, and maybe it was that you’d only just woken up, but you really couldn’t tell if he was playing around or being serious. 

“I’m going back to sleep.” You huffed and laid back down. 

Stretch laughed and got up and gently pulled the blanket back. “Okay no, wait. Come on, hear me out.” He snickered and waited for you to turn back to him. “I know it’s late, but it’s a great time of night for lizard and frog hunting.” He knelt down beside the bed. 

“Why would I wanna go lizard and frog hunting at three in the morning?” You rolled over and frowned sleepily at him. 

“Because it’d be with me? And you love me?” He put on that stupid cheese smile that never fails to make you smile back, but you tried to hide it behind your blanket. “Besides, not like you’re doing anything important-”

“I was sleeping! One of your favorite things to do!” You argued. 

He continued to talk. “So why not spend this time doing something fun?!” He stood up to his full height and put his hands on his hips. “Come on, you’ll like it!”

“I like sleep, too…” You slowly sat back up and tried to bite back a yawn. 

Stretch settled down into a more calm pose, matching your energy a bit more. When he gets all excited his similarities with Papyrus really show. “We won’t be out too long, promise.” 

You sighed, caving at his eager face. “If I do this, you’re treating me to lunch and dinner today.” 

He snorted, and you almost moved to argue with him, but he waved it off. “I hear ya, it’s a deal. Lunch and dinner, on the to-do list.” He nodded and reached his hand out when you started to get up. “You’re gonna wanna change clothes.” 

“I gathered that, silly.” 

After you threw on a pair of sweatpants and a nice soft jacket, you and Stretch lazily strolled out of your house. Sure enough, it’s still the dead of night and very dark. The lamp posts were the only light source that allowed the two of you to see the sidewalk. Stretch seemed to have a specific target to walk towards, so you followed.

You soon found yourself in a more odd location than expected. The edge of a small thicket of trees that bordered the large neighborhood. You couldn’t help but laugh in denial.

“You know, if I didn’t care about you so much, I’d find it really strange that you woke me up in the middle of the night to lead me into a dark forest.” You hummed and gave a little shiver from the breeze.

Stretch snickered and pulled an item from the pocket of his hoodie and affixed it to his skull. You squinted from the bright light suddenly shining on your face and groaned. 

“Luckily, I have a means to make it not dark.” He replied and offered a second head light to you. You decided to ask why he had multiple of these later.

“You’re lucky I like you.” 

“Oh so very lucky. Let’s go!” 

Stretch was very careful with you as you both walked through the cluster of trees and bushes and whatnot. He kept a hand around yours, and the light pointed down to make sure you were never far behind and never slipped. All the while, the orange dots of his eyes flicked back and forth with each sound in the night. You could hear the hoot of an owl, the chirp of crickets, and even the occasional frog croak.

You stayed put when Stretch let your hand go and started snooping through some bushes. He rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie and dove his hands into a small, muddy puddle, and let out a shout of victory. 

You cocked your head and watched as he approached you, his hands firmly gripping a large frog covered in dirt.

“I got you a friend.”

“Oh my g-, put it down Stretch!”

He fake gasped. “You don’t like my gift?” 

“I love your gift, just not the possibility of it attacking me.” You stepped back and smacked his arm when he moved the frog closer. It was surprisingly relaxed in his hands, all things considered.

Stretch smiled. “He’s fine. He won’t hurt ya!” He cocked his head and hummed. “Can’t tell what kind it is… it’s a wood frog.”

You hummed and nestled your hands in your warm pockets. “Well, we are around trees.” You teased gently. 

He rolled his eyes and crouched back down to the spot where he’d grabbed the little guy and let him go. “Let’s hop to it!” 

Oddly enough, rooting through leaves and bushes was quite fun! Even if it was a little cold. Your fingers gently tingled in the cold night air which left you to watch Stretch more than participate, but it was enjoyable nonetheless! Anything he caught he’d give you a quick show and share a fact or two about the critter before letting it go. It was remarkable that his clothes stayed clean the whole time. 

“This a habit of yours I didn’t know about?” You asked as you were crouched with him as he set free a much smaller frog. It was various shades of brown and you were surprised Stretch saw it even with the light. 

He shrugged. “Eh… consider it a temporary hobby? A lot of these little guys weren’t in the underground, so I’m kinda infatuated by them.”

“Ooh, big word.” 

“Hush.” He pushed you with his elbow with a chuckle. 

You laughed with him and stood back up, walking with him once again. “It’s actually really cute. Even if it’s a little silly to think of you stalking through the night just to look at reptiles and stuff.” 

He hummed and wrapped an arm over your shoulders to gently pull you closer as you both strolled your way out towards the street. “I’m glad my silliness is endearing.” 

“It’s one of your best qualities.” You replied, grinning when you caught the subtle orange that spread on his face. Though he probably thought you couldn’t see it in the darkness.

He rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands, trying to brush off the embarrassment. “W-well uh… in that case I-OH!”

In a blink, and with speed you’d rarely seen from the skeleton, he was over by a bush and quickly swiped something from the leaves. You tried to ask what was so exciting that got that reaction from him, but he spun and offered you to look instead. 

“Ooh, a lizard.” You smiled and reached out to try to give the rather large critter a pet, but Stretch pulled his hands away. 

“A gecko! A tokay gecko specifically.” He lifted his hands up to his face to look at the little guy closer. “You’re not supposed to be out here. No, you are not.” He hummed and tried to look it over without loosening his grip. 

“He’s not?” You inquired and shuffled closer to him. The little guy looked pretty. The red spots really made him pop.

He shook his head. “Nope. These little guys are actually from uh… Asia I believe? So far away from here. Obviously invasive.” He hummed and cocked his head to the side. “And usually supposed to be pretty aggressive….” His voice drifted off. 

“Looks pretty docile to me.” You observed and leaned against the skeleton, partly to look at the large reptile and partly to soak up his warmth as the cold started to bite a bit more. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem. That means he was captive bred. He shouldn’t be out here.” He frowned and held the critter closer to his chest. 

You grinned. “Did you just make a new friend?” You teased, nudging him as he laughed. 

“Nyeh heh, I wish. Regardless of if he was in captivity before, he’s pretty grown up and won’t hesitate to bite to protect whatever they call their territory. Wouldn’t want any of my little ones getting hurt.” He waved his head in motion for you to follow, going back to the original task of going home. 

“What are you gonna do with him then?” You wrapped an arm around one of his own, looking at the reptile that seemed rather content in Stretch’s grasp. 

“I’m gonna make a temporary tank for the night, then turn him over to a shelter in the morning. He’s a beautiful little one, I’m sure he won’t be stuck there long.” 

You smiled. Watching Stretch dote on something the size of his hand was always so sweet to see. You knew a select few details of his past and that kindness is ingrained in his very being, despite some of the demons he obviously has, no matter how much he refused to tell you. Watching him be his authentic self in these moments reminded you of just why you fell for him.

You warmed up in the skeleton house and helped Stretch set up the temporary tank for the gecko. The little guy immediately hid under a hide away log the moment Stretch let him inside. After he was settled, you yawned and sat with the skeleton on the couch. Drowsiness had begun to weigh on you a while ago, but finally sitting down showed you just how tuckered out you were. It was only 5 in the morning, and you were thankful you didn’t have work tomorrow and had every intention of sleeping in. 

You felt the skeleton nuzzle his face against the top of your head and hum. “Happy Valentine's Day, sweet bee.”

You turned to look at him. “Valentines day?” 

“Yeah, it’s technically the 14th, even if the sun isn’t up yet. Had the whole day planned for ya…. If you’re up for that I mean.” he hummed, a shy smile tugged on his face. 

You hummed sweetly and leaned your head back to his shoulder. “That sounds lovely, but I don’t know if I’ll be waking up any time soon for your plans.” You sighed. 

Stretch rubbed your back and pulled you a touch closer. “Well, good thing I had that planned out too. Had a whole lunch and dinner date planned.” 

“Aww.” You smiled and closed your eyes. Lunch and dinner, he’s so sweet. 

…

Wait. 

“Is that why you laughed!?”

Stretch’s cackling filled the living room and you’re once again reminded of another reason why you fell for him. He really does think of everything. 

You groaned and roughly shoved yourself against him, intending to take all the warmth and comfort he could possibly have. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, you dork.” 

[authorhjk1]

Lewd thoughts on aespa getting caught by their partner playing by themselves instead of waiting for them 👁️

Karina

Karina's eyes are wide open when she sees you standing in the door. The pillow she has been grinding on shows off a visible wet spot, suggesting that she isn't wearing panties under her skirt.

"This-This isn't what it looks like."

She feels shame colouring her cheeks as you look at her exposed tits, her top bunched up above them.

"I was only gone for 10 minutes and you couldn't help yourself?"

"S-Sorry, I've just been so...so needy lately."

Karina bites her lip as she glances at your crotch.

"That explains why you were grinding on me last night when I woke up."

Once more, Karina sinks her head in shame. But when she looks up at you, she catches your teasing smirk, which makes her regain her confidence.

"This pillow isn't really doing it for me."

She gets on all fours and crawls to the edge of the bed.

"Maybe I can ride something else?"

Giselle

You wanted to surprise your girlfriend for Valentine's day with a bouquet of roses, chocolate and some jewelry. But you couldn't help yourself, you wanted to give her a jump scare when she'd come back home. That's why you hid inside her closet. And when she did come home, you were about to jump out. But before you could, you saw Giselle opening a drawer of her nightstand. She asked you to not look inside of it and you respected her wish, that's why you're now so curious to see what's in it.

To your surprise, Giselle takes out what seems to be a dildo. You didn't expect that. You watch how she lies down on her stomach on top of her mattress. She placed the dildo in front of her. You expected her to pleasure herself with it, but Giselle is starting to suck the dildo off. You know that she loves giving head, but you didn't expect her being this into it. Your cock is completely hard by now as you hear Giselle slightly choking as she tries to fit most of the dildo inside her mouth.

Giselle yelps in surprise when you finally open the door. She's stunned, embarrassed, speechless. You see her glancing at your face, your crotch, the gifts in your hand and back to your face.

"I-"

Instead of giving her time to explain, you put the gifts to the side and undo your pants. Giselle's confusion quickly turns into lust as you pull off your boxers as well. You expect her to just wait for you to come closer, but instead, Giselle moves to the edge of the bed and turns around. She's now lying on her back and as she lets her head hang off the edge, you know what she has in mind.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

Winter

"Alright, thank you"

You hang up and walk back to the bedroom. You were about to go down on a half naked Winter when you got a phone call. At first you considered letting it go to voicemail, but you knew it was important.

As you now step into the room, you're surprised by what you see. Your relationship with Winter is still quite fresh and the two of you haven't had that much sex yet. And the sex you had was always on the softer side.

But now Winter is lying on your bed, her tight body on full display. The fingers of her right hand are knuckles deep inside her pussy, while her left hand is squeezing her small tits.

"Ruin me, daddy. Make me a slut."

She moans and you can hear how wet her pussy is.

You haven't seen this side of Winter before. And she never called you daddy either. Her eyes are closed though, so you doubt she knows you're watching her.

"I'm such a bad girl. I'm addicted to your cock like a whore, daddy."

Her words are dripping with lust and you hold your breath, not wanting her to stop.

"Everytime you fuck me you're rearranging my insides. My body is too small for your cock, but it just feels so good when you break me, daddy!"

Winter's voice is getting louder and you can see her arching her back off the mattress.

You silently walk towards her, unable to hold back any longer. When you reach the bed, you must have made a sound, because Winter's eyes suddenly shoot open. Surprise, shame, embarrassment, her face displays all kinds of emotions as she looks up at you.

You lean over her, placing your left hand over hers, which makes her fingers slip in deeper into her pussy. Your other hand supports your weight as you place it right next to her head.

"What a bad girl you are. Touching yourself while I'm on the phone."

Her embarrassment is now fully replaced by a look of shock. Winter's mouth is slightly open and she's just waiting for your next move.

"Is this how bad you need my cock? Daddy is going to fuck and punish you like the slut you are."

Winter whimpers, her eyes wide open, but she can't say anything as her juices start to stain the sheets underneath her.

Ningning

"You couldn't wait 5 minutes, could you?"

Ningning shakes her head. She is biting her lip, one strap of her dress is already half way off her shoulder, her heels only dangling on her toes. She's lying in bed, her delicate hand playing with her clit.

The two of you haven't been on a date in ages and so it seems like your wife really enjoyed the night. After you just made sure your children are sleeping, you join her on the bed.

"The next time you tease me like that, I won't wait until we're home."

You whisper into her neck as your hands glide along every curve of her body. Throughout the whole dinner Ningning used one of her naked feet to touch your legs and at one point flat out rubbed your cock through your pants under the table.

"Is that a promise?"

Her breath hitches when your lips move from her neck down to her collarbone.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 17

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hii guys! I appreciate all the love! Hope you’re loving the series so far! 🤍 Next chapter will be out Thursday! Don’t forget to like and reblog, it really means the world!

Billie’s POV

“Billie!”

“Forget about it. Don’t bother trying anymore.”

“What are you saying?” I watched her continue to pace.

“You break all your fucking promises! You couldn’t even prioritize me this one time!” She shouted, her voice higher pitched than usual.

“Billie I have to take care of myself too! We’re not married! We don’t have to be attached at the hip every second of the day!” I yelled.

“That’s not-“

I cut her off, grabbing her duffle bag and tugging on it so she’ll stop. “You’re not gonna do this again! You’re not gonna disappear and stop talking to me just because I couldn’t cancel my life to be in yours!”

She yanked it back aggressively, “What difference does it make! I don’t see you unless I make the effort! Our plans don’t matter to you!”

“That’s not true! I could’ve just cancelled on you, but I made the effort so this wouldn’t happen again!” I shouted, successfully taking her bag out of her hands, causing her to stumble a bit. “Stop pushing me away!”

“Stop breaking my heart! Every time, you tell me you’re going to make time for me, then you find something more important, you break my heart!” She pulled her bag out of my grasp by the straps, pushing me backwards so I wouldn’t fight it.

My stupid high heels gave in, causing me to fall between a coffee table and the couch. She dropped the duffle, letting it fall by her feet and immediately reaching her arms out.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean to-“

I smacked her hands away, grabbing onto the side of the couch and helping myself up. “Don’t.” I glared at her.

She sighed, watching me take off my heels.

“Fine, Billie, have it your way. You want me to come see you so bad, and when I finally do, you find things to be mad at me about. I can’t do everything you want me to do whenever you want me to do it!”

“OH! So she CAN stand up for yourself?” She snaps.

For some reason this was my last straw. “You are such a fucking asshole! Nothing is ever good enough for you! Imagine if every time I needed you and you were busy with touring, or interviews, I made you feel like shit for not being here!”

I shoved her backwards a couple times as I ranted.

The expression on her face was unfamiliar, like she was looking at a stranger. She looked shocked, astounded, even. Before she could even react she stumbled back, over the duffel bag. She caught herself, avoiding a bad fall.

“You’re a bad friend! You only care about yourself!” Tears escaped my eyes as she wrapped her hands around both my wrists to stop me from continuing to shove her.

“Remy, quit.” She grasped tightly into my wrists, but the adrenaline kept me from noticing as I continued to walk us across the room. “Stop, I don’t want to hurt you!” She shouted in my face, knowing she could forcefully restrain me, but chose not to.

Her back pressed up against the wall and her hands migrated to my triceps, all in one swift motion. She held me there, looking into my eyes, not exactly scared, but perhaps beside herself.

“You need to go.” She glanced between the door and us, motioning for me to leave.

“I got tossed around at work for months, and I needed you here with me, and you were everywhere else! But did I fucking attack you for it? No! Because your job is sooo important and makes you sooo much money-“

“Yours doesn’t make you happy! You know it’s true! Look at you! Do you enjoy dressing up in short dresses for old men so they let you be part of the conversation?!” She secured me in her firm hold.

“No, dude! What the hell is this? Huh? Why are you so fucking obsessed with what I wear, and what I do at work? Why are you so up my ass about everything-“

“I don’t like what you’ve become! They’re changing you, I’m losing my best friend!” She looked me up and down, keeping a tight grip on me.

My nails dug into her arms, attempting to get them off me. “No, because you do this shit with anyone I’m interested in- Everything has to go through a quality check with you. Why are you so fucking jealous of anything at all I give my attention to!?”

“I don’t care, I was right about Stevie! It took you like five hours to figure out what I knew the second I laid eyes on her!”

“Why are you SO obsessed with Stevie? Do you, like, have some fucking crush on me, or something?!” I tore her hands off me, backing away.

She stared at me, her back still leaned against the wall. There was pain in her eyes. Silence fills the room as I pick up my clutch and step into the shoes that I’d haphazardly thrown to the side, slipping them on as best I could.

When I looked at her again, I saw her quickly glance away and wipe her eyes.

“Okay, Regina George.” She squinted her eyes at me, defensively. “I’m just trying to look out for you because I know how you are!” She shouted.

“You don’t know anything about me! Not anymore. Your world is too far detached from mine. All I do is walk on fucking eggshells around you because lately, I’m so scared to piss you off, or- or disappoint you!” I reached out my arm pointing towards her.

“What? How?!” She winced.

“You’re my best friend! You’re the last person that’s supposed to make me feel like that! I have too many people in my life that make me feel like that!” My voice was scratchy, breaking at the sight of tears coming from Billie’s eyes too. “Why cant you see that I’m trying? Why does no one see that? No one appreciates anything I fucking do!”

Her sad eyes widened, “That’s not true! I love you more than anything! I appreciate-“

I cut her off, “Then why is everything I do with my life such a fucking inconvenience to you!”

“You make me feel like the least important fucking person on the planet. If you think I’m a piece of shit friend, what the fuck does that make you?” She cried, wiping her tears away before they could fall. “You fucking promised!”

“I kept my fucking promise, Billie!” I got closer to her again.

“I was the last fucking stop of your day! I wanted to be the first!”

“What else did you want, princess?”

She screamed in my face, “Nothing! Not anymore!”

She wiped at her eyes again, smudging her eyeliner even more than it already was.

“Fine.” I fidget with the straps on my heels, bending over to see them better through my water eyes.

Finneas opened the door, scaring me a little. “Hey, everyone is waiting for you guys in the bus.” He said, poking his head in. He quickly notices Billie in tears, and the dense energy floating about the room.

“Everything… okay?” He walked in, looking at us both.

“No.” She said. “I want her to leave.”

Finneas looked between her and I, trying to figure out what had just happened. He opened his mouth to say something, but took it back, exchanging a look with Billie.

I began to walk out, but Finneas stopped me, blocking the door. “You both need to just have a talk. I think there’s-“

“No, Finneas, let her leave. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What doesn’t matter anymore?” Finneas asks, urgently. I glance at Billie, seeing her rub her temples to combat a couple tics.

“Any of it! This. Us.” I answer for her.

Finneas grabbed Billie’s duffle bag off the floor, noticing the footprint tracks all over it from being stepped on.

I walked out, not even bothering to limp. I didn’t even notice I had rolled my ankle when she pushed me, but the adrenaline from our explosion flowed through my body. It wasn’t until I sat in the empty lobby, calling an uber to take me to the nearest hotel I could afford, that I noticed how swollen it was.

While I waited, Finneas reappeared, wondering if I was okay. I’m sure billie caught him up because he asked me if I needed help finding a flight back home.

I shook my head, “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” I closed my eyes, putting my face in my hands. “Probably just get a rental and drive home.”

“Well, we’ll be here until late tomorrow. You got a place to stay tonight?”

I nodded. He let me know where they’d be staying for the night and said his goodbyes, as my uber pulled up. He walked me out to it, verifying the driver was legit and I climbed in the back seat.

Finneas leaned into the car, resting his elbows into the door frame, “You know, she’s the one who asked me to come check on you… To make sure you make it out okay. She told me not to let you leave unless I make sure you’re gonna be safe.”

I stared at the seat in front of me, blinking slowly.

“Have a good night.” He tapped the top of the sedan after closing the door for me.

At the hotel, I limped out of my stupid dress, and climbed in bed. With no change of clothes, I knew I had to figure something out tomorrow. I laid there, my eyes open, staring at the ceiling. My brain so unsatisfied, revisiting things I said or did, coming up with anything that would make things different. I knew I would barely get any sleep tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the morning sun came back around, I woke up to the hotel phone ringing. “Hello?”

“Hello, I was just calling from the front desk to let you know someone is here asking for you.”

“Who is it?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

“A Maggie Baird?”

I sighed, relieved it wasn’t Billie. “Send her up, please.”

I got up and wrapped a large, white hotel robe around me, waiting for Maggie to knock on my door. Meanwhile, I checked my phone, seeing 4 missed calls from work, already knowing I’d never hear the end of it from Joe.

When she came in, she had a tote bag full of stuff. “Hey sweetheart, I brought you some clothes and shoes. Finneas told me you were limping pretty bad and Billie thinks you flew here with nothing.” She set it on my bed.

“Thanks, Maggie.”

She hugged me, rubbing my back. “Of course, honey. You know, it’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t think so, I can’t keep doing this back and forth with her. We’re just from two different worlds.”

“You two grew up in the same world, you know?” She watched me walk over to the bed, examining the clothes inside the tote.

I wondered if I should even bother explaining anything. I’m sure Billie already told her everything, and painted me out to be the bad guy.

“I know, but I think now we’re too different.”

“You guys are best friends. You don’t know how much she cares about you, Remy.” She sat next to me, pulling me into her shoulder.

“I care about her too, but clearly it’s not enough.”

“Well I want you to know that I love you dearly, and I’m always going to be here for you.” I sighed, wishing I had a mother like Maggie. I thought of all the times I needed a mom, and Maggie stepped up, making me feel like part of the family. “Don’t be a stranger, please.”

I nodded, giving her a hug. “Thank you for bringing this. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else. You have a way to get home?”

“Yeah.” I lied.

“Okay, be safe, hun.” She left.

I could smell that all too familiar scent coming from the clothing in the tote. I pulled out some white sweats and a white matching sweatshirt with Japanese writing on both of them. I saw a pair of Billie’s converse for me to wear and some socks rolled up inside them. A pair of boyshorts, a sports bra, and a hair tie were at the bottom as well, making me smile because she thought of even the smallest detail. I walked over to the shower, turning the knob to its hottest setting, and waiting for it to heat up.

Once clean, I put on the clothes, and checked out of my hotel. I ubered straight to the car rental and began the trip back home.

3 hours into the road trip, I checked my phone as it buzzed constantly, realizing it’d be best to call in sick, instead of ignoring the rest of my problems. I groaned, reaching for it in the passengers seat. Sadly, the Bluetooth on this old rental did not work, and the radio stations kept repeating the same 8 songs over and over again, driving me insane. I lowered the volume to give the office a call, but my phone slipped out of my hands.

“Fuck me, bro!” I stabilized the steering wheel and leaned down into the passenger’s seat floor, trying hard to reach for my phone.

I grabbed onto the floor mat, pulling it towards me in hopes my phone would be within reach. I heard someone on the opposite side of the highway honk their horn at my swerving, causing me to sit back up and look at the road ahead.

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself. I tried one more time, touching it with my fingertips and using my nails to get it closer.

“Ha!” I grabbed it, immediately swerving back into my lane. I began typing, letting Joe know I was sick but would be back in tomorrow.

As I hit send, everything went completely black.

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime Part 5

We are now in the latter half of this story and hooboy is going to worse before it gets better. Again this story is done, I'm just putting out the remaining chapters I have.

We have the Forrest talk, The Wheeler House, and Wayne blows a gasket. Poor, poor Wayne.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

“Dustin looks up to you so much, Steve,” Eddie murmured. “It’s all he talks about. Hell, it’s all they all talk about. If Jeff and them didn’t know you before they joined Hellfire they would have gotten psychic damage with how much they talk about Steve the hero.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, well. I wish he’d tell me more to my face instead of all the bullshit I do get from him. Like he had a bag filled with flashlights and I asked him where he got them, do you want to know what he said?”

Eddie let out a pained sigh. “Something snarky and rude?”

“Right in one,” Steve groused. “He said that I was an adult and shouldn’t have to be told everything. Like no one else gets that amount of disrespect. Including you, who is older than I am.”

“That little shit head,” Eddie said with another sigh. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Thanks.”

They walked in silence for a moment or two before Eddie spoke up.

“I’m learning this week that I’m coward,” he murmured, poking and twisting his hands nervously. “I didn’t think I was until Chrissy. But when I saw her raise up to my ceiling...I–I just ran. I could have stayed. I could have tried to help. I knew that this place was and I couldn’t help her.”

Steve shook his head. “Do you remember the first comic I ever drew for you?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and his hangdog expression cleared. “The gun, the boy running to his car before dashing back into save the day, the fear...”

“Yeah, Eds,” he murmured. “It was always about that. Running in is okay as long you know that when the time comes you’ll do the right thing in the right time.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “God, Stevie,” he murmured. “I hesitated. To jump in after you. You had just been dragged in and Nancy went in right after you, Robin merely a second later. But I paced that god damn boat before following suit.”

“So what?” Steve said, reaching up to guide Eddie’s face to meet his head on. “I bet I can tell you what your thought process was.”

“Steve...” Eddie whined. “Jumping in after immediately was the biggest sign of true love I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t want her, I want you. Because I know you hesitated to jump because you weren’t sure if you should go back to sure and let everyone know what happened or to jump in and protect me and the girls. You chose to protect us, Eddie. Don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? I love you.”

Eddie closed his eyes and let go of all the jealousy and envy he had over Nancy and what they had before Eddie came along. He knew Steve was gay. He knew that Steve had chosen him and had kept choosing him, time after time. But when he saw the way the two of them teased each other, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, causing him to throw his vest at Steve.

He nodded and then accepted the kiss that Steve gave him. They might be in a hellscape running for their lives with an evil wizard and all his minions chasing after them but they had each in other in this.

And they would make it. Together.

~

“They’re gone!” Nancy cried. “They aren’t here. They should be in this shoe box, but all that’s in here are the shoes that I ruined my junior year. I broke the heel on the one and had to toss them both out.”

“What do you mean they’re gone?!” Eddie bit out through clenched teeth. “How could they be gone?”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” she cried gesturing wildly. “They should be here!”

Steve wandered over to the wall and looked up at the poster. “Nance, when did you exchange your Blondie calendar for the poster?”

“Steve is that really important right now?” she snapped and then she turned around to see said calendar on the wall. “Oh!”

“What does that mean?” Robin asked, trying to break the tension that suddenly ramped up in the room.

“I think the Upside Down is stuck in 1983,” Nancy murmured. “But since the revolver isn’t here either, I’d have to guess November 6th.”

Robin and Eddie shared a confused glance.

“I don’t know what that means,” Eddie admitted, sticking his hands in his back pockets.

“That’s the day Will disappeared,” Steve said absently. He poked the calendar a couple of times. “What is so important about that day...?”

Nancy just shook her head. “What are we going to do now?”

“Well,” Steve said with the shrug of his shoulders, “we can always make my weapon again.”

Nancy raised her eyebrows and then grinned. “That will certainly help, yes.”

~

They thundered down the stairs, but Steve stopped. Nancy and Robin kept going, but Eddie slowed down and looked back.

“What’s up, Stevie?” he asked as he watched his boyfriend strain as if he was hearing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Hey, guys wait up!”

Nancy and Robin turned around to see Steve inch down the stairs, his head cocked upwards.

“Can’t you hear it?” Steve asked. “It’s Dustin, I’m sure of it! And I think...Max.” He shook his head. “I can’t quite make it... out...”

Before Nancy could scoff again, Robin giggled.

“I can hear them too!” she said excitedly jumping up and down and clapping.

It didn’t take them long to figure out how to communicate with them and they found out that they had picked up Erica and she had been read in.

“How many times do I have to be right before you believe me?” Dustin barked angrily.

“Jesus Christ. This kid's gotta get his ego in check,” Steve said twisting his lip and shaking his head ruefully.

Eddie leaned over to look past Nancy and Robin, “It’s his tone, right?”

After everything was decided that they all meet up at Eddie’s trailer, Eddie grimaced. “How are we going to get there? It’s like seven miles from here.”

Nancy looked around for a moment. “Well if it is the 6th, then all the kids would have had their bikes here. I mean it might be a little tight for the boys, but it’s better then walking.”

~

Once they were back top side, Wayne bullied the four older teens into showers and changed before sitting Steve down to do a proper stitch job while everyone caught up with what everyone had learned, but especially Nancy’s vision.

“We have to attack now,” Nancy said. “We don’t know who he’ll pick next and Max shouldn’t have to live on borrowed time.”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, nodding along with her. “We know that while Vecna is in the void his body is vulnerable to attacks. If we can lure him into attacking someone to open the fourth gate then we can attack his body in the Upside Down?”

“Oh is that all?” Eddie sneered, rising to his feet.

“Yep!” Dustin said cheerfully and Eddie slowly said back down in disappointment.

Wayne crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat back, allowing Steve to stand up. His back arms had been cleaned and properly bandaged, his sides had been sterilized, stitched, and re-bandaged, his neck cleaned and bandaged to keep further dirt out of the wound.

“Yeah?” Wayne said, “And who’s gonna be fighting this evil wizard of yours? Steve? The fella I just spent the last twenty minutes putting back together? Or the two ladies who are still in high school? Or any of the other children here, present?”

Dustin opened his mouth, but no words came out and everyone shifted around nervously as for the first time an adult put their foot down and said they shouldn’t be doing this.

Max came back into the front part of the trailer. “I tried reaching the Byers again and it’s a busy signal again.”

“Which means we have even less time then we thought,” Nancy insisted, putting her hands on her hips. “We need to take him out now before our friends get hurt, especially since we don’t know who his next victim will be.”

Wayne licked the bottom of his lips slowly. “Well you ain’t doing it with the eight of ya.”

Everyone looked around in confusion as it seemed like they were all counting their numbers.

“Before we get further,” Steve said quietly. “We do know who his next is. I read the files from Ms. Kelly’s office. I know how they all started. For Fred, Patrick, Chrissy.” He paused and then looked up. “Max.”

She froze in place and fought the urge to look over at the person she knew he was talking about, trying to look everywhere else.

“Yeah, Stevie?” Eddie asked gently. “Who’s next on the evil wizard’s hit list?”

Steve sat down hard between Lucas and Eddie and propped his chin on his knuckles. “It always starts off with visions. Visions of things he thinks you’re guilty of. I’m guessing in Max’s case it was Billy, like it was Nancy’s siblings in hers.”

Nancy wrapped her arms around her waist and looked down at the ground, rocking back on one heel of her shoes.

Both Wayne and Eddie tilted their head in the same direction at the same time as they regarded Nancy.

“Something tells me,” Eddie said wetting his lips, “that she knew that. Didn’t ya Nance?”

Max looked back and forth between Eddie and Nancy. “I was about to suggest using myself as bait, because if we can distract him long enough for a strike team to destroy his physical form, we can get rid of the Upside Down for good. But you’re telling me that she knew she was the next victim and was still going to let me be the sacrificial lamb?”

Steve shook his head. “Good ole Nancy Wheeler, only looking out for herself. We could wait a week and have Nancy be bait. Hell, we all have Walkmans. We get enough batteries and enough tapes I’m sure Max could last that long. But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to go through the visions and guilt. Because she knows deep down Vecna, Henry, whoever is right. It is her fault Barb died.”

“Uh...” Lucas said into the resulting silence. “So are we going with Max or Nancy because that is really something we should decide before we get any further...”

“I’m all for taking the bastard out now,” Wayne said with a shrug. “But not with just us. We need more people.”

Steve turned to Eddie. “Are the boys still in town?”

Eddie got up and started waving his hands. “No. Nope. Absolutely not, Steve. We aren’t dragging them into this. Ignorance is hella bliss in this case. You know it is!”

Dustin shook his head ruefully. “If you’re suggesting who I think you’re suggesting, it couldn’t hurt. I mean Jason is amassing a lynch mob and we need all the help we can get.”

“I’d want to know,” Lucas said softly. “After what Jason and his goons did to Gareth. If I were them, I’d want to know.”

Eddie turned to glare at him. “And what did they do to Gareth?”

Lucas explained why he was no longer with the basketball guys to Nancy, Robin, Wayne, and Eddie.

“God damn it!” Wayne cussed. “That’s how they found out about the lake house? And Chief Powell just let them go? I’m going fucking sue this whole incompetent asshole county!”

“Well,” Nancy said, “I’m against it. We need a small strike team not a god damned army.”

“The hell you don’t,” Wayne snapped. “I saw the beast that damn near took out the mall and if it’s Henry Creel like we think it is, then we’re going to need everyone we can. And since we’re spread pretty thin on the ground right now with the Cali crew in the wind and Hopper dead... we need people. I would rather it not be children, but I’m out of options right now.”

Eddie pushed his fingers into his eye in frustration. “Fine.”

They all turned to him in shock.

“Fine,” he bit out again, flopping back onto the sofa. “I’ll round up the Hellfire crew. Shit, I’ll even see if Marty and Janice are in town for the week, because if we’re dragging people into this shit, we’re getting the whole band back together.”

“We’re going to need weapons and supplies,” Steve said with a sigh. He didn’t like the plan, but it was all they had. “And way to get all us of there.”

“The weapons are easy,” Wayne said with a huff, “War Zone. They’ll have everything you need. For both.”

“If we’re trying to avoid people from town,” Erica said, rolling her eyes, “maybe we should avoid a store called War Zone.”

Wayne snorted, “And you got somewhere else we can load up on supplies, little miss?”

Erica opened her mouth but no words came out.

“That’s what I thought,” Wayne said smugly.

“That takes care of one,” Robin said with a nod. “But what about transportation?”

“I have something,” Eddie said with a grin.

Steve came up to stand next to him. “You got some hidden car we don’t know about?”

“It’s not exactly a car,” Eddie said smirking at Wayne, “and it’s not exactly mine, but it’ll do.”

“Boy...” Wayne said warningly.

Eddie willfully ignored him. “Hey, Max you got a bandanna or mask I can use?”

~

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

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4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

9- @steddieislife @chaotic-waffle @strangerfolks

[babybearnation]

insecure!arthur hurt/comfort hc's i beg of thee

oh my poor pookie :(

arthur leclerc x gn!reader (insecurity hurt/comfort headcanons)

arthur may seem confident to people who don't know him, but deep inside, he's very insecure

not good enough, not deserving enough, not quick enough, not handsome enough, not hot enough, not kind enough, not loving enough, not enough. not ever enough.

its worse when he finds someone comparing him to his brother

because even though he knows that charles would never be okay with people staying stuff like that about arthur, arthur can't help but feel like those people are speaking the truth anyways

he's very lucky he has you otherwise these thoughts would leave him totally overwhelmed

often finds himself thinking he's not a good person and you have to remind him that bad people don't worry about being bad, they just are

this sobers him up and he'll sniffle softly at you before apologising for being so insecure - just kiss him better, okay?

sometimes he finds himself questioning why ferrari still keep him on board - is it just because of who his brother is? or does he actually have something to offer?

your best course of action is to reach out to his colleagues and ask them how much he contributes to ferrari and, just like you thought, they come back to you with nothing but praise and kind words for him which helps to cheer arthur up

even though, together with charles, he broke a record in formula 1, arthur still feels despondant over how badly he performed during that fp1 session - sure he wasn't the slowest, but he wasn't exactly the quickest either

you'd have to remind him that he doesn't race consistently, so of course he wasn't gonna be the best of the best, but even if he had been the slowest, he didn't crash the car and he broke a record and surely those things are more important, right?

arthur's looks and physical appearance are a constantly source of insecurity for him

when you see so many people thirsting over your brother & putting you down as "just the other brother" or "the ugly leclerc", it hurts

sometimes he even questions why you're with him because clearly, everyone else thinks he's hideous, which means you must do as well

you'll have to use actions to get him to think straight here because words will just bounce off of him

lavish praise on his body, giving him passionate kisses and tender touches until he gets it in his head that you are with him for a multitude of reasons and his handsomeness, his hotness, his sexiness, his whateverness that he's swearing he isn't on that particular day is just a small part of why you love him

thankfully, it works

when he tells you he needs to be kinder, you can't help but laugh

because kinder? kinder than arthur leclerc? one of the kindest people you've ever met? yeah, no, that's not possible

you'll list out a million and one ways in which arthur is the kindest and he'll finally slump into your side with a defeated huff and a "and yet you're still kinder"

its about six months into your relationship when you discover a new insecurity of arthur's

sure, you weren't upset about receiving all the lovely flowers and gifts and adoring affection that arthur lavished upon you, but you were confused by it all

because, really, it came out of nowhere

until you overheard him asking charles for advice on how to be more loving towards you

you'd interrupted the phone call and wished charles a good day before hanging up and telling arthur that he was loving enough and he didn't need to do anything to impress you because you were already thoroughly impressed and in love with him

like hello?! he already has you, after all

and that is the biggest thing that makes arthur's insecurities sink and melt away - he has you and you love him for him

and that's all that matters!

�� all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[that-hippie-user]

you know, it sometimes shocks some of my subs the dedication i put into what i do. like... i legitimately put passion and fervor into unpotty training folks with legit hypnosis. i miss NO opportunity to rope someone in if i can.

but then... why? i mean, this is a fetish right? is it that important?

YES.

folks, you cannot comprehend how much i care about this.

you, all of you, anyone who has considered falling under my spell and losing your ability to hold it, every single mushtush in my lovely "Cult of Stardust" as i call it, be they openly so or stealthwise, ALL of you are making important steps in your lives!

why? because you are giving yourselves permission to explore something no one else has the guts to. you looked at potty training and thought "i never asked for this!" and instead of tucking that desire down deep with shame or holding back for fear of the consequences, you reached out either through anon asks or open ones, for MY input on if you should.

do you comprehend how brave that is? YOU are seeking a life of diaper dependence because the warmth, safety, nostalgia, comfort, and arousal you feel to diapers is just THAT powerful.

and sweethearts, if you're brave enough to consider that, imagine what ELSE you can do?

questioning gender? fuck it, try hormones! more cute clothing options right? wanna learn a hobby? sure! you'll suck at it to start with, but maybe pretending its arts and crafts will motivate you to learn! write a book? why not! you can do so without distractions now. coming out as queer to your friends and family? why not? subtlety is for cowards and YOU arent a coward, the stink and crinkle in your pants proves as much.

seriously, you are considering taking the plunge into a life like NOTHING you've ever done before. and do you think that's wrong? of course not! it's your life! but you might hesitate regardless, right?

hell, you probably harbored shame about this stuff for a while, right? so that probably means you expect me to like, i dunno, warn you? say that its risky? maybe laugh cuz you joined me in my obsession?

I WEAR DIAPEES FOR MY OWN ENJOYMENT JUST LIKE YOU DO, WHY WOULD I EVER JUDGE????

in fact, i choose to do PRECISELY THE OPPOSITE.

because if i dont? you might miss out. you might miss out on a fun new adventure in your life, and a new avenue of happiness. you might bury yourself deeper in that closet and spend more days unhappy because YOUR dreams arent fulfilled!

does that really sound so crazy? do you think wanting diaper dependance is silly? no. you are pursuing a happiness that only you and folks like you can understand, opening yourself up to being weird and different because you understand on some level that those are GOOD things to be.

and you're coming to me, someone who has been where you've been, and asking my input.

and i will ALWAYS work as hard as i fucking can to make sure that YOU make the choice that YOU wanna make.

this could be HUGE for your character arc, you think im gonna miss my chance to help you achieve that?

no. i do my part, i preach my gospel of crinkles, and to all the folks who want it i help them partake in the bliss of fully accepting yourself.

this MATTERS to me, this isnt a fetish, this is a way of life for me. and im tired of pretending it isnt.

i LOVE who i am... dont you wanna do the same for yourself?

[felidthing]

more thoughts:

the symptom/trait/whatever of "special interest" is in my opinion much more accurately labeled restrictive interests. its one thing to be super excited and obsessed with something. its another when youre unable to hold attention on really anything else and its the only thing you can talk about. it causes disruptions. its not always detrimental to your wellbeing but i think its important to keep the focus more on this impact

the way an individual experiences special/restricted interests will vary wildly. this can be collecting information thats kept memorized and easily accessed to repeat later, or its just the only thing occupying your mind regardless of how you express that, etc etc etc its Wide

> cats are 100% a special interest, with the warriors series and my own ocs for it as an extension of it. warriors are the only books ive read consistently since i was 8. cats, warriors, and my warriors ocs are at the center of my life and identity (says tumblr user felidthing). this is a life-defining feature of myself that i work with and around to communicate with other people. sometimes im unable to connect with people properly because i cant reach them through cats or warriors or my chemical romance or art. my interests are Restrictive.

this has been said in many ways by many people, but the perception on tumblr of autism/autistic people is extremely narrow, only highlighting the easiest to deal with, most likeable, most digestible versions of the closest-to-allistic symptoms. autism covers a large spectrum of traits and often comes along with other conditions/disorders/etc, but its frequently ignored that its a developmental disorder that often impacts several areas of one's life, not just social issues.

it really does annoy me that people keep equating "special interest" with "encyclopedic knowledge." annoys me that people keep equating "autistic" with "super awesome at researching to acquire encyclopedic knowledge on their special interest." hey guys can i hand you this

[altocat]

Do you think Sephiroth ever told anyone about Rhadore?

Sephiroth is tight-lipped about what happened. He spends a good many years bottling up the memories.

Until, that is, during a brief stall during a mission in which he and Zack are alone. A series of painful setbacks. Zack frets that he wasn't able to wrangle the younger soldiers in time, how everything got delayed because he messed up.

"You know," Sephiroth murmurs, staring quietly ahead beyond of the rim of their fragile shelter, watching the rain softly pittering down outside the cave. "My first mission was a failure."

Zack perks up at that, disbelieving. "No way. That's impossible. Not you."

"It's true. A complete failure from top to bottom. You'll never find it in the history books. The company wrote it off before it even reached the public's ears."

Zack's brow scrunches, head cocked. "Well...what happened?"

Sephiroth stares up at the moon, its pale silhouette lurking somewhere behind the gray, painted clouds. "...I had to make a difficult decision. One I deeply regretted. At the time, I believed it was in service of my team. I was young. Impulsive. Desperate. And I had to act quickly."

"Did...people get hurt?"

Sephiroth is silent for a long, long time. "....Yes." He closes his eyes. "It stayed with me for a long time. It...ate at me in a sense."

"Ate at you?"

"I was bitter, I suppose. Closed. I did not wish to engage. There are some things you don't forget. Things that cling. Sometimes, you will find that there are no right or wrong choices as leader. There are merely practical ones with no set gains. You simply have to choose....whose lives are important." The note is frail, low whisper drifting away as the heavy rain pounds the earth, the winds shifting.

Zack considers, his arms crossed, deep in thought. He shyly cranes his head up towards the larger soldier, studying his expression, or lack thereof. Sephiroth's gaze is far away, the pupils rounded with a wistful nostalgia. The younger soldier hesitates, chews his lip, taps a foot before speaking up again. "So uh...what did you do?"

"Hm?"

"You're a good leader now. Even after all that's happened before. So what changed for you?"

"It never really 'changes', Zack."

"Well, what helped you in the meantime?"

Sephiroth's eyes are hard to read, staring down into the younger man's face. Slowly, the soft hint of a smile flickers against the corner of his mouth, a soft rumbling chuckle quietly escaping him as he closes his eyes.

"...A certain fledgling soldier with a great deal to prove about the world and its people. A certain soldier who was.... well, a lot like you..."

[littlemourningstarr]

Not the Worst Night

Tim gets stuck with some sort of toxin derived from Ivy's old work, but at least Jason is there to whisk him away.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Tim Drake x Jason Todd

Tags: Frottage, established relationship, genderfluid Tim, drugging, the JayTim is consensual

Tim felt his blood broiling, inside his body, his very veins, as he pulled the needle from his arm, chucking it down onto the ground. The tip was stained with his blood, the vial still containg a trace of a liquid in a dark rose color- pinker than blood, a romantic's ideal color. He shuddered, wanted to crush it under his boot heel, but knew he couldn't. He'd need to take it back to the cave, have it analyzed, with his blood.

His stomach flipped, and for a moment nausea overtook him. He swallowed as spit pooled in his mouth, inhaling slowly through his nose. He needed to call this in- needed to get the traffickers he'd stopped and left restrained into GCPD custody- not that it would probably do much good. But he had to try.

And he needed Bruce to know they'd gotten their hands on something that most definitely once belonged to Ivy. She'd be royally pissed, that was for sure. Hells, maybe he should just call her-

"You responsible for the mess of bodies back there?" Tim spun quickly, body tense- but it was just Jason, his voice mechanical from his helmet. He was still straddling his bike- how the fuck hadn't Tim heard it?

He realized he could barely hear anything except his pulse straining in his head, pounding in his ears. His nausea had shifted to a tightness in his muscles, his belly cramping almost painfully, and he could feel heat and blood rushing down to his groin. Oh, no.

He must have looked pale- or flushed, Tim really didn't know- because Jason climbed off his bike, pulled his helmet off his head. His curls were tussled, wild, gorgeous, begging for Tim to tangle his fingers in them, to pull and yank until Jason was gasping, writhing-

Oh bloody fucking hells.

"You alright?"

Tim scrubbed his hands up over his face, trying to suck in a breath. He swore he was about to begin trembling, the desire inside him blooming like spring, heady like a fucking animal rut. "No," he admitted, and the moment he let his hands fall from his face Jason was there, reaching up to cup his face, tilting it, trying to examine it in the streetlamp light.

"Babygirl, talk to me," he whispered, and Tim melted, did tremble. This was still… new, with Jason. He hadn't quite gotten used to hearing the endearment, from him- the adoration, in his voice. He had never expected this. He hadn't expected there to be room in Jason's heart or life for the childhood crush Tim had been harboring for far too many years.

Tim swallowed thickly. "Traffickers had a case of drugs," he admitted, "tracker on the one that got away with it. His location should ping to the system- but they stuck me with something." He glanced down, and Jason reluctantly let go of him, crouched down and picked up the needle, examining it. "It feels like Ivy's work used to."

"Ivy- oh." Jason glanced up, and Tim turned his head away, clenched his hands into fists. He could keep himself together. It was what he did. Anyone else could fall apart, but not Tim Drake.

Jason straightened up, took the time to carefully tuck the needle away in a compartment on his belt, before he was holding out a hand.

"Give me your comm."

Tim reached for his ear, pulling the small bud out. Jason popped it into his own ear, pressed it. "Hello, hello who's up listening tonight?"

"What- Jason?" Tim could just hear Barbara's voice, she was speaking so loudly- shocked. "This is Tim's line!"

"Yup. I'm kidnapping him for a bit- very, very important work. Could you have someone follow up a tracker he set live on the system?" Tim couldn't hear Barbara respond now- she must have contained herself. He swayed a little- considered maybe he'd just pass out instead of falling into the fucking needful pile of a human he knew the drug wanted him to. At least he'd get an hour of sleep, then.

The team should just consider that a win.

"Yeah, and send someone to clean up a trafficking mess." Jason rattled off an address, before he was simply popping the comm out of his ear, offering it back to Tim. "Keep it off." Tim took it and simply stuffed the earpiece into a pocket of his belt, as Jason headed back for his bike. He grabbed his helmet, hopped on, and pulled it securely over his head, before revving the bike to life. "Now, c'mere," he said, voice mechanical again, oddly… alluring…

Tim hurried over to the bike, hopped on behind Jason and locked his arms around his solid waist. The bike took off into the streets, dancing between late night travelers on the road.

Tim pressed his cheek to Jason's back, between his shoulder blades, inhaled the sharp scent of gunpowder and leather. His cock was straining in his suit uncomfortably, as his hands splayed on Jason's belly. One slipped to his belt, gripped it tightly- and over the sound of the bike, Tim heard Jason yell, "Just a couple minutes babygirl, then I'll take care of you."

Tim believed him.

He managed to keep himself in check, when Jason stopped the bike and climbed off, offering an arm to steady Tim. The younger took it, dug his gloved fingernails into his jacket, as sweat pooled at the base of his spine uncomfortably. His heart was racing, his cheeks flushed, hot, as his cock was leaking now, begging for attention. Gods if Jason just looked at him right, he might come.

Maybe that would just fix this whole mess.

Jason got him up to his safe house- a well lived in one- but the moment the window was shut, he was ripping his helmet off, dropping it to the floor with a clatter so loud Tim nearly jumped out of his skin. Jason reached for him, pulled him close, ripping the mask from Tim's face and tossing it to the ground as well.

"Tell me what you need," he whispered, voice heavy, pulling from his chest. Tim bared his teeth, felt feral, could barely focus on anything except the heat radiating off Jason's body. He surged up, pressed his mouth in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss to Jason's as he grasped at the man's leather jacket. Jason grunted, as Tim's teeth nearly knocked his in the younger's excitement.

Tim was more coordinated than this. He was more controlled than this. But he couldn't bring himself to remind himself of that. All he wanted was to crawl inside Jason's skin and meat and bones.

Jason leaned back against the closed window, hands going for Tim's hips and jerking him close. He slipped a thigh between Tim's, and Tim rutted against it, whining into the kiss as his cock pressed inside his suit, getting the faintest ghost of friction. "Fuck," he breathed, as Jason's hands pushed his hips back, only to yank them forward, guiding him to grind against him.

"Yeah?" Jason asked, color blooming on his own tanned cheeks. "We can do that if you want."

Tim could have laughed. Instead he kissed Jason again, got his lower lip between his teeth and pinched. Jason mewled, the most un-Jason-like sound- so surprising that the first time he'd made it, one night with Tim, Tim had stopped dead in what he was doing.

Now it only drove him forward as he continued to ride Jason's thigh. His lover's hands left his hips, reached up for his hair and tangled the inky, lengthy locks around his fingers. "Harder," Jason mumbled into the kiss, and Tim pressed harder to the meat of his thigh, dug his teeth into his lip until he tasted blood.

Jason didn't seem to mind. He pulled at Tim's hair, jerked him from his mouth and forced his head back. He leaned in, nuzzled his neck, kissed at his jawline- couldn't get to much else with his damn suit in place. Tim cursed it as he shuddered, his balls tight and aching, his body wanting release.

A full body shudder wracked him, as Jason breathed out "yes, c'mon babygirl," and Tim came so suddenly it knocked the wind from him. He tugged at Jason's jacket, sagged against his thigh, let his predecessor support his weight as he panted, his cock pulsing cum into his underwear, his suit forcing it tight to his skin.

Jason released his hair a moment later, and before Tim could even catch his breath he was hoisting him up, tossing him over his shoulder, a hand cupping Tim's supple ass. Tim gave a surprised squeak, held onto the back of Jason's jacket and grimaced as his cum was already cooling, against his skin.

"Let's get you stripped and comfortable before you dive back into delirium." Jason was heading directly for his bedroom, and Tim couldn't argue. He'd very much like to be stripped of this fucking suit and his now sticky underwear- to be laid out and worshiped on Jason's bed.

The man was very good at worshiping, Tim had learned.

And even if this had twisted a thorn deep into the gut of his night, Tim figured there were plenty of worse outcomes. A night with Jason, he would readily admit, was always welcome.

[airas-story]

Sorry (Are We Too Late?)

(Sequel to Sorry, Sorry (I Still Love You), and Sorry (Let Me Say It Back).)

Stephen had told himself that he wouldn’t go back. He had told himself that he had given Tony the final, most important message. That he had, he hoped, in some small way given them both closure.

At the same time, he had known, even then, that he would be coming back, because this was Tony. Tony had been such a fundamental part of his life… a part of his life that Stephen didn’t want to lose. Even if Stephen couldn’t help but fear that he already had.

But maybe… just maybe.

He waited until he knew Tony was gone again. He needed to see Tony again—or at least desperately wanted to—but he wasn’t ready. But then again, he didn’t know if or when he would be.

The apartment was dim, the light of the afternoon sun coming through the windows, which were tinted just slightly to help with temperature control—and to stop the unfortunate tendency of people to try to look through Tony’s windows. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the sage and cedar wood—Tony must have just plugged in a new freshener—that Stephen had always favored and that Tony had grown fond of.

Stephen took a few steps into the apartment and froze.

The dim light glinted off the polished wood of the piano. Stephen’s piano.

True, Tony played, but it had always really been for Stephen. He looked down at his hands, trembling minutely. True, he couldn’t play anymore unless he strengthened his hands with dimensional energy for the interim, but…

He’d been here less than two weeks ago and the piano hadn’t been here. Stephen hadn’t really thought much about it. Tony had moved and gotten rid of most of Stephen’s stuff, some part of Stephen had just assumed that the piano had been a part of that. But Tony had kept the piano.

Tony had brought the piano back. That meant something.

Stephen moved slowly to the piano, drawn to it like metal to a magnet. He moved around it carefully, sliding onto the piano bench. His breath caught. The paper from the bedside table was there with two separate messages. But there, in between his two messages was Tony’s handwriting. Stephen reached out, grabbing the paper.

There between Stephen’s goodbye and Stephen’s apology—and how strange, that the quiet sorry was not the true apology, instead the whisper of love—were two sentences.

I’m sorry. I still love you.

Stephen’s own words, reflected back at him, but with a sincerity that made it clear it was not just a repetition, but a truth. He ran trembling fingers over the penned words. Stephen had left and Tony had cut him loose in the aftermath. One choice made out of desperation one choice made out of… well, that Stephen didn’t fully know. Had it been anger? Grief? Loss? Resignation? Whatever reason, the choice had been made and there had been no turning back for either of them.

Except maybe there still was. I still love you.

They’d both said it. Stephen knew he meant it. He also knew Tony, knew these were words that Tony refused to say if he didn’t mean it. Stephen had said it first, in their relationship, hoping for a quick return of the sentiment. He hadn’t gotten it. It had been a month later that Tony had said it back. Stephen still remembered the first time Tony had said it, the two of them together in the lab, fresh off a lively debate. Tony had stared at him, wonder in his eyes, the quiet “I love you” stopping Stephen in his tracks.

He’d known, then, that Tony meant it. The month wait had felt entirely worth it, then.

Which was why Stephen knew now that if Tony had written those words than he meant them.

He swallowed hard. Because… because what did they do, now? He put the paper back, the words still stark in his mind and on the page. Stephen looked away, down at the piano keys. He ran his fingers over the ivory keys; they were cool to the touch, smooth beneath his finger pads.

Dimensional energy had to be used carefully. Using dimensional energy to still his hands drained him of energy, something he couldn’t risk when emergencies could come at any time. It was sustainable for a person to do long term, but it was all a person could do, and Stephen had chosen a different path.

But for the moment. He channeled dimensional energy into his hands, felt the tremor still and the pain fade away. Right now the risk felt worth it. He placed his hands on the keys and for the first time in almost two years he played.

The songs seemed to dance off his fingers and something in him cracked, emotion long stifled slipping through. The sound of the door opening had him looking up, his fingers continuing to play the accompaniment to Alice Boman’s Waiting.

Tony stood there for a moment, before shutting the door behind him. He said nothing.

Stephen didn’t either, just let his fingers continue to play, the piano notes echoing through the room like a soundtrack to their otherwise silent reunion.

Tony moved slowly, taking off his shoes, putting his keys away. His gaze never left Stephen and Stephen found he couldn’t look away from Tony, either. They’d done this before, those rare times when Stephen was home before Tony—or, more often, on the days where Stephen had the day off work—Stephen greeting Tony home with piano music.

Air caught in Stephen’s chest and his fingers stumbled over the notes as Tony moved toward him in an echo of their old lives. And just as he had, then, Tony sat on the piano bench next to him. Stephen swallowed hard, looking back down at the keys as he slowly finished the song.

When the last note faded away, Stephen dropped his hands from the piano keys.

“I never thought I’d hear you play again,” Tony said quietly.

Stephen huffed a laugh. “Because my hands were destroyed or because I left you?”

Tony shrugged. “Both.” He reached out, but didn’t touch, hand hovering an inch above Stephen’s own. 

Stephen turned his hand so that his palm faced up and Tony gently pressed down, their fingers slotting together. “No tremors,” Tony said, a question in his voice.

“It’s not permanent,” Stephen said. He let go of the dimensional energy he’d been channeling, grimacing as the pain returned almost worse for the moment of reprieve he’d had. “But that’s complicated.”

“I bet,” Tony said quietly. “You’ve always gravitated to the complicated.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t know if you were coming back after that last visit.”

“But you hoped?”

Tony laughed, but it was more soft exhaustion than amusement. “Yeah,” he said. “I hoped.” He turned, facing Stephen fully. “We need to talk, don’t we?”

Oh, most certainly, though Stephen didn’t know what he could possibly say. “Yes,” he said. “We do.”

[kaiyunsim]

gonna be a rock —

pairing : ex!sungho x gn!reader

summary : a random and sudden breakup wraps you in an internal storm as many waves of emotions hit you. determined to get closure, you find any way to get yourself to sungho… even if it means breaking a window.

warnings : ANGST (ZERO FLUFF!), tbh it hurt while writing this, mentions shinyu from tws

a/n : FIRST INSTALLMENT OF 19.99!! i really hope you guys enjoy and look forward to more :)

[19.99 masterlist]

— wc : 4.6k — not proof read —

"i think we should end this."

the words land between you like something heavy, an object placed down with finality. not a suggestion. not something up for discussion. just a decision, spoken aloud as if it had already been set in stone.

you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else. to add an explanation, a reason, anything to soften the weight of it. but sungho doesn’t speak. his hands are folded together on the table, his posture stiff. he doesn’t even look at you, eyes focused downward, like he’s already detaching himself.

"what?"

your voice barely comes out. it doesn’t sound like your own.

sungho exhales, finally lifting his gaze. his expression is unreadable, carefully neutral in a way that makes your stomach twist.

"it’s better this way."

"better for who?" the question is out before you can stop it.

a flicker of something crosses his face. guilt? hesitation? but it’s gone just as quickly. "for both of us."

but it doesn’t feel like that. not to you.

the words sit between you, cold and unmoving, like a wall just placed down with no warning. you should be asking more questions, trying to break through it, but your mind feels slow, struggling to keep up with how suddenly everything is unraveling.

this isn’t how things were supposed to go. weren’t breakups supposed to be full of shouting and emotions spilling over? weren’t they supposed to be messy? painful? anything but this quiet, detached conversation that makes it feel like you were never that important to him at all?

but maybe that’s the point. maybe he planned it this way. clean, easy, without a fight. something you couldn’t argue against.

your fingers curl slightly against your lap, a sharp contrast to how still the rest of you feels.

"okay."

the second you say it, regret pools in your stomach. but the words are already out.

sungho nods like this was the answer he expected. he pushes his chair back, standing up as if he’s already leaving.

"i’ll go now."

the finality in his voice makes something tighten in your throat. you watch him move toward the door, each step feeling heavier than it should.

this is it. this is the moment you should do something, ask him to wait, to slow down, to give you something to hold onto. but your body stays frozen, fingers twitching against the table as you struggle to find your voice.

he reaches for the door handle.

"sungho—"

he pauses, hand resting against the wood, but he doesn’t turn around.

your lips part, but the words won’t come. everything you want to say, ‘why? is this really what you want? do i mean so little to you?’ sits on the tip of your tongue, but none of it makes it out.

because if he wanted to explain, he already would have. if he wanted to fight for this, he wouldn’t be standing there with his back to you, waiting for you to let him go.

so you swallow hard, staring at the back of his head as the silence stretches between you.

"never mind."

he doesn’t say anything. he just nods, barely, and then the door opens.

and then he’s gone.

the silence that follows is unbearable.

you sit there for a long time, staring at the empty space he left behind. part of you keeps expecting him to walk back through the door, to sit back down and say he didn’t mean it. but the seconds stretch on, turning into minutes, and reality settles in.

he’s not coming back.

you don’t know how long you sit there, unmoving, before your body finally remembers how to function. your phone is in your lap. you don’t remember picking it up, but now the screen lights up beneath your fingers.

no notifications.

your thumb hovers over his name in your contacts. your chest feels tight just looking at it, but you can’t bring yourself to move away.

should you text him? ask him what went wrong? ask if he meant it?

or would that make things worse?

you close out of the screen before you can talk yourself into something you’ll regret. the phone slips from your fingers, landing beside you on the couch, and you lean back, pressing your palms over your face.

this is pathetic. you should be angry. you should be cursing him, throwing something, doing anything other than sitting here feeling like the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

but all you can do is replay it. the way he sounded. the way he looked when he said it. like this was something he had already accepted, something he had already lived with before he told you.

how long had he known? how long had he been planning this while you went about your days, completely unaware?

the thought makes you feel sick.

eventually, the world outside your window grows dark, and exhaustion seeps into your limbs. you should eat something. drink water. do anything to pull yourself out of this fog. but instead, you just drag yourself to bed, muscles feeling too heavy.

you don’t expect to sleep.

and you’re right.

you spend most of the night staring at the ceiling, blinking in the darkness, feeling the weight of everything pressing against your ribs. your mind refuses to shut off, forcing you to cycle through every moment of the day over and over until you feel like you’re suffocating.

is sungho lying in bed right now too? staring at the ceiling? thinking about you?

or is he already moving on?

you hate that you don’t know. hate that you’ll never know unless you ask. hate that even if you did, he probably wouldn’t tell you the truth.

the words slip out before you can stop them.

"i hate you."

the sound is barely above a whisper, lost in the darkness of your room. but the moment they leave your lips, you know they aren’t true.

because no matter how much you wish you could, you don’t hate him.

you don’t even know how to.

you decide you need to move on.

it’s not a sudden realization, not some dramatic moment of clarity. it’s just the only thing left to do. because if sungho can leave so easily, if he can sit across from you and end everything without looking back, then why should you hold on?

so you start with the obvious.

his contact name is still the same, sitting in your favorites list like a wound that hasn’t closed. your fingers hover over it for too long before you finally remove it. it doesn’t make a difference. he’s still there in your recent calls, in your messages, in the hundreds of texts that haven’t been opened since the breakup.

you don’t delete them all at once. at first, you just skim through them, eyes catching on random pieces of conversation

did you eat yet? don’t stay up too late i miss you. love you, see you later!

it’s stupid how something as small as old texts can make your chest tighten.

but you keep going, forcing yourself to press delete, over and over again, until the messages shrink down.

next is social media. his name lingers at the top of your feed, old photos still filling your gallery. there are pictures of him that you never posted, ones only you had. sungho with his head resting on your shoulder, sungho laughing at something you said, sungho looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

you don’t delete them. not yet. instead, you tuck your phone away, out of sight, as if that will make a difference.

avoiding him is harder.

your usual spots suddenly feel like danger zones. the café near campus where you used to study together, the park you’d walk through after late-night convenience store runs. places that once felt familiar now make your stomach twist with the possibility of running into him.

so you adjust. you pick different paths, different stores, different habits. it’s not moving on, not really, but at least it keeps you from having to see him.

but even when he’s not there, he’s there. in the places, in the moments, in the habits you still haven’t shaken.

one day, you catch yourself reaching for your phone, fingers typing out a message before you even realize what you’re doing. have you eaten today?

you delete it before you can think too hard about it.

you tell yourself you’re doing fine.

people ask how you’re holding up, and you smile, you laugh, you say i’m okay.

it’s easy. practiced.

but at night, when the city quiets down and there’s no one left to convince, it gets harder. because at some point, without meaning to, your feet carry you in a direction they shouldn’t.

you don’t realize where you’re going until you’re already there. standing on the sidewalk, staring up at a window you shouldn’t be looking at.

his apartment.

the lights are on. he’s home.

your breath catches for a moment, fingers twitching at your sides. you should leave. turn around, walk away, pretend this never happened.

but you don’t.

instead, you stay there, frozen in place, staring up at the warm glow spilling from his window.

is he alone? is he thinking about you? or is he just going about his night like nothing’s changed?

a stupid thought crosses your mind.

if i threw a rock at his window, would he come out? would he care?

your fingers tighten slightly around the strap of your bag. you can almost picture it, picking up a small stone, watching it tap against the glass, waiting for him to look down and see you standing there.

but what then? what would you even say? what could he possibly say to make any of this hurt less?

the thought lingers, tempting in its desperation, but you already know you won’t do it. because the truth is, you’re afraid of the answer. afraid that if he saw you standing here, he wouldn’t care at all.

so you turn away, the weight in your chest heavier than before, and walk home alone.

weeks pass, but the questions don’t.

they creep in at odd moments,when you’re walking to class, when you’re waiting for your coffee, when you’re lying awake in bed. why did he leave? was it something i did? was i not enough?

you tell yourself that it doesn’t matter anymore. that you don’t need to know.

but the thoughts don’t listen. and it happens on an ordinary afternoon.

you’re with a group of friends, conversation drifting in and out of focus, when shinyu says something that makes your stomach twist.

"sungho seems fine."

two simple words. light, casual. not meant to hurt. but they do.

fine? he’s fine?

your fingers clench slightly around the cup in your hand. you don’t know what you were expecting, sungho to be miserable? to regret everything?

but hearing it out loud, the confirmation that he’s okay, that he’s moving on without looking back, it stings more than you want to admit.

you force a smile, nodding along like it doesn’t bother you, like your chest doesn’t feel tight.

no one notices.

that night, you find yourself doing something you swore you wouldn’t.

you scroll through old messages, eyes flicking over the conversations you should’ve deleted by now. there’s no point in reading them, no point in torturing yourself, but you do it anyway.

don’t stay up too late. i love you. miss you so much y/n ❤️

your fingers hover over the keyboard, heart pounding in a way that feels pathetic.

you type out a message. "why did you leave?"

four simple words.

they sit there on the screen, glaring back at you, waiting.

your thumb hovers over the send button. just one tap, and you’d finally have an answer. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wouldn’t reply at all. maybe he’d say something that would make it worse.

you stare at the message until the letters blur together, your chest feeling too tight, your hands feeling too cold.

then, slowly, you press delete and you feel ridiculous.

like a kid crying over a broken toy.

but sungho wasn’t just anyone. he was everything.

and you can’t take it anymore.

if sungho won’t answer your texts, won’t give you the closure you need, then you’ll force him to.

your hands shake as you tear a page from an old notebook, the paper crinkling under your grip. you don’t give yourself time to think. if you hesitate, you’ll lose your nerve.

you grab a pen.

"why did you leave?"

the words stare back at you, dark ink sinking into the fibers of the paper. too direct? too desperate? does it even matter?

you fold the note carefully, wrapping it around a small rock you picked up from the sidewalk. your fingers tighten around it. your pulse is loud in your ears.

this is stupid, so stupid, so petty, but you’re already walking.

his building is quiet when you arrive and the lights in his window are still on. he’s home.

your throat feels tight as you step closer, fingers twitching against the rough surface of the stone.

time to throw this rock

one throw. just one.

you take a deep breath, pull your arm back, and let it fly.

the tap against the glass is sharper than you expected, cutting through the silence of the night.

you freeze.

for a moment, nothing happens.

then, the curtains shift.

the window creaks open.

and sungho leans out, eyes scanning the street.

your heart pounds so hard it might break through your ribs.

he looks confused at first, his gaze sweeping over the empty sidewalk, searching. then his eyes land on you.

he stills.

you can’t breathe.

for a long moment, neither of you say anything.

he just stares at you, expression unreadable, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re serious.

you want to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat.

his eyes drop slightly, and you know the second he notices the small rock lying on the ground, the paper still wrapped around it.

you see the way his brows furrow, how his lips part slightly like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what.

and then, finally, he speaks.

"what the hell are you doing?"

sungho stares at you like he can’t believe you’re real. like he never expected to have this conversation. like he never wanted to.

but you did.

that’s why you’re standing here, breath uneven, heart hammering in your chest. because you needed to hear it. hear closure.

sungho steps outside.

"you threw a rock at my window."

his voice is flat, exhausted, but underneath it, there’s something else. something unreadable.

"you left me without an explanation," you fire back.

his lips part slightly, but no words come out. he looks away, fingers twitching at his sides. a muscle in his jaw ticks, and for a moment, you think he’s going to ignore you.

then, he exhales sharply. "so this is how you want to do this?"

"this is the only way i could get you to talk to me," you say, voice steadier than you feel.

his brows furrow, and you see the way his gaze flickers to the crumpled note on the pavement. the one you wrapped around the stone before throwing it.

"you could’ve just texted me."

you let out a bitter laugh. "would you have answered?"

the silence is answer enough.

sungho shifts on his feet. his weight sways slightly like he wants to turn back inside, wants to end this conversation before it can start. but you don’t let him.

"why did you leave?" you ask, the words pressing against your ribs.

sungho flinches.

his hands disappear into his hoodie pockets. his gaze flickers past you, to the empty street, as if looking for an escape. but there isn’t one.

"does it matter?" he asks finally, voice quiet.

you inhale sharply.

"of course it matters."

his jaw tightens.

"why?"

you feel your breath stutter. "because i can’t stop wondering what i did wrong. because i need to know—" your voice wavers, and you press your lips together, steadying yourself. "because you owe me that much."

sungho’s face twists, his eyes flickering with something you can’t name.

he exhales, and then, finally— "i was scared."

you blink.

"scared of what?"

sungho shifts. his shoulders curl inward slightly, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. like he doesn’t want to be here.

"of hurting you more if i stayed," he mutters.

something inside you cracks.

"you already hurt me," you whisper.

his expression flickers, like he expected that but still wasn’t ready to hear it.

he doesn’t say anything for a long time.

"i thought leaving would be easier," he says finally, voice tight. "for both of us."

a humorless laugh escapes your lips.

"for both of us?" you shake your head. "is that what you think? that leaving without a real reason was easier?"

sungho exhales, rubbing his hands over his face. "i thought it would be."

"well, it wasn’t."

the words snap through the air between you, sharp and final.

his eyes meet yours then, and for the first time, you see it—guilt.

"i know."

it shouldn’t feel like a victory.

"then why did you still do it?"

sungho swallows, and for the first time, his mask cracks.

"because i was a bad boyfriend," he mutters.

your breath catches.

"what?"

his hands tighten into fists inside his hoodie. "i was never enough for you."

a scoff leaves your lips. "that’s not true."

"isn’t it?" his voice wavers. "i forgot things that mattered to you. i let stupid things get in the way of us, and i never—" he stops himself, inhaling sharply through his nose. "i knew i wasn’t what you deserved."

your throat feels tight. "and you think leaving me with no explanation was better?"

his eyes flicker away.

"i thought it would hurt less than staying and watching you realize it yourself," he admits.

your heart clenches.

"i never wanted to leave," he says suddenly, voice raw. "i swear, i never—" he exhales sharply, shaking his head. "but once i said it, i couldn’t take it back."

you stare at him, chest tight.

"that’s not fair," you whisper.

his lips press into a thin line. "i know."

"if you ever cared about me—"

"i did care about you," he cuts in. “i do care about you”

"then why wasn’t i enough?"

sungho flinches like you physically hit him.

he looks away, throat bobbing.

"it was never about you not being enough," he mutters. "it was about me not knowing if i was."

your breath hitches.

"and now?" you ask.

sungho exhales, shaking his head.

"now?" he echoes. "now it’s too late."

the words settle in your chest like lead.

his gaze lifts back to the sky, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer.

"i should go."

the finality in his voice makes something crack inside you.

but you don’t stop him.

you don’t say anything as he turns, his steps pulling him further away.

this wasn’t closure.

this wasn’t enough.

but at least now, you have something.

—

you walk home, heart heavy, but somehow lighter than before.

the city doesn’t feel the same without him.

it should. nothing has changed, cars still rush past, people still weave through crowded sidewalks, the world still moves forward as if nothing happened. but for you, everything feels off. there’s an emptiness that follows you through the streets, in the spaces where sungho used to be.

it’s been weeks since that night, since he told you he needed space, since he walked away without offering an explanation that made sense. and yet, you’re still stuck in that moment, still replaying the conversation in your head like a song you can’t turn off.

‘lets end this’

you don’t know what he meant by that. you don’t know what changed, why he suddenly decided that distance was the answer. all you know is that his absence lingers, stretching into every part of your life, leaving you wondering if you did something wrong.

at first, you tried to ignore it. tried to go about your days like nothing was different. you still met up with friends, still laughed at their jokes, still went to the places you used to go. but even in a crowded room, you felt alone. no matter how many conversations you had, your mind always drifted back to him.

did he miss you? did he regret it? or was he perfectly fine, moving on like you were nothing more than a phase, a small moment in his life?

you don’t want to be bitter, but it’s hard not to be when you’re left with nothing but questions.

one night, you sit by your window, watching the city glow beneath you. the neon signs flicker in the distance, casting reflections on the rain-slick pavement. it’s late, but you’re wide awake, lost in thought.

your phone buzzes.

the sound cuts through the silence, and for a moment, your heart stops. no one texts you this late.

you reach for your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you turn the screen over.

1 new message from sungho.

your chest tightens.

you hesitate before unlocking your phone, bracing yourself for whatever he has to say. the screen glows in the dim light of your room, illuminating the message waiting for you.

"are you okay?"

three words. that’s all. no explanation, no apology, no attempt to justify what he did. just a simple question, one that feels too small to hold the weight of everything that’s happened between you.

you don’t know how to respond.

part of you wants to ignore it. after all, he’s the one who left. he’s the one who made this choice. why should he get to come back like this, slipping into your life again with a text that doesn’t even scratch the surface of what you’ve been feeling?

but another part of you,one that’s softer, more desperate, wants to answer. because despite everything, you still care. despite everything, you still wonder if he does too.

your fingers hover over the keyboard.

"yeah, i’m fine."

but that’s a lie. you erase it.

"why do you care?"

that’s too bitter. you erase that too.

you stare at the empty text box, feeling like no words could ever be enough to capture the storm inside you.

do you tell him the truth? that you’ve spent nights wondering where things went wrong, that his silence has been suffocating, that you’re still trying to figure out how to exist in a world where he isn’t by your side?

or do you pretend like you’re okay, like his absence hasn’t left a wound that refuses to heal?

you don’t know what hurts more, the thought of answering, or the thought of not answering at all.

you let out a slow breath, locking your phone and setting it down beside you. you’ll answer later. or maybe you won’t. maybe some things are better left unsaid.

—

sungho stares at his phone, waiting.

he doesn’t know what he’s expecting. maybe for you to reply right away. maybe for you to ignore him completely.

he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

when he made the decision to walk away, he thought it was the right thing to do. he thought he was protecting you from something, from him. but now, all he feels is regret.

he misses you. god, he misses you.

it hits him at the most unexpected moments,when he’s walking past the café where you used to sit together for hours, when he hears a song you both loved, when he finds himself reaching for his phone only to remember that he has no right to call you anymore.

he wonders if you hate him.

he wouldn’t blame you for that either.

but he had to do it. he keeps telling himself that. that he was only dragging you down with him. you deserved more than the mess he had become.

so why does it feel like he made the biggest mistake of his life?

he grips his phone tightly, staring at the last message he sent. three words. that’s all he could manage. anything more, and he might’ve said too much.

he wishes he could take it all back, the way he left, the way he made you question everything. but it’s too late for that, isn’t it?

he sighs, setting his phone down beside him. maybe you won’t answer. maybe this is the end, and he just has to accept it.

but deep down, he’s still hoping.

—

you don’t sleep that night.

the weight of his message lingers in your mind, pressing against your ribs, making it impossible to breathe.

by morning, you still haven’t replied.

you tell yourself it’s because you don’t know what to say. but maybe the truth is, you’re scared. scared that answering will make it hurt more. scared that it will open wounds you’re still trying to close.

but ignoring it doesn’t make the pain go away either.

so later that afternoon, when you’re sitting alone in your apartment, phone in hand, you finally let yourself type out a response.

"i don’t know."

you hesitate for a moment before hitting send.

it’s not much, but it’s honest. and right now, that’s all you can give.

—

somewhere along the way, the pain begins to fade. not all at once, not in a way that feels noticeable at first. but slowly, it shifts from something sharp and unbearable to something dull, something manageable. it’s still there, woven into the quiet moments, lingering in the spaces he used to fill, but it doesn’t consume you anymore.

days pass. maybe even weeks. you stop counting. there’s no point in marking time by his absence anymore. life moves forward, with or without him.

you see friends. you laugh at their jokes, even when they don’t feel as funny as they used to. you go to places that remind you of him, and while the ache is still there, it doesn’t break you. not like before. you remind yourself that healing isn’t linear, that some days will be harder than others. but you��re trying. and that’s enough.

then, one evening, you see him.

it’s not planned. it’s not something you could have prepared for. one moment, you’re walking down a familiar street, lost in thought, and the next, he’s there, standing just a few feet away from you, frozen mid-step like the universe pressed pause.

time slows. the sounds of the city fade into the background. all you can hear is your own heartbeat, loud and uneven in your chest.

sungho looks… the same. and yet, different. he’s wearing that jacket you used to tease him about, the one he insisted was his favorite. his hair is slightly messier than before, like he’s been running his fingers through it absentmindedly. but it’s his eyes that catch you off guard. they hold something unspoken, something heavy. something that mirrors everything you’ve been feeling since the night he walked away.

neither of you speak. you just stand there, staring at each other, caught in the space between what was and what could have been.

he looks like he wants to say something. his lips part, then press into a thin line, as if he’s searching for the right words and coming up empty. a flicker of hesitation crosses his face, followed by something softer, something almost like regret.

but in the end, he doesn’t say anything.

instead, he gives you a small nod. a silent acknowledgment. a quiet understanding.

it’s not an apology. it’s not an explanation. it’s not closure in the way you once thought you needed.

but maybe… it’s enough.

maybe not every story needs a perfect ending. maybe some things are meant to be left open-ended, unfinished, lingering in the spaces between words left unsaid.

maybe this is just another step forward.

so you nod back. just once. then, without another word, you turn and walk away.

this time, it doesn’t feel like breaking.

- ty for reading :)

bnd taglist - @bxnedo

perm taglist - @s0shroe

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Fighting for his TK

Following the breakup, Buck gets support and advice from someone unexpected.

****

Buck had never felt so numb after sex before. Objectively, the sex hadn't been bad—it had been pretty amazing if he was being honest. He and Taylor knew each other's bodies well, falling into an easy, practiced rhythm. Still, as his mind caught up to his body, all he felt was an overwhelming emptiness, a hollow ache where satisfaction should have been.

He felt his breathing begin to quicken as he lay next to Taylor's warm body. This wasn't right. None of it was right. He didn't want this. He tried to focus, tried to center himself, but it felt like he was sinking into quicksand, each panicked breath pulling him deeper.

"Buck?" Taylor asked, concern flooding her voice. "Are you ok?"

"It's—it's all wrong." He stammered, his chest tight with rising panic. "I'm not supposed... not supposed to... you're the wrong TK, Taylor."

Taylor began to rub his back gently. It felt nice, even as he longed to have strong biceps wrapped around him instead.

"So who is he?" Taylor asked quietly.

Buck's jaw dropped at the pronoun. "Wait. How did you...?" he trailed off, his voice barely a whisper.

"I've known since the first time we got together," she said with a shrug. "You were not subtle with the way you flirted with and checked out guys, but I figured if you didn't know, it wasn't my place to point it out."

"I was so blind for so many years. It wasn't even denial—I just never even thought it was an option for me," Buck said, his voice thick with realization.

Taylor nodded supportively.

"His name is Tommy and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I thought he was my endgame, my happily ever after, but after six months he just walked away." Buck's voice cracked. "I asked him to move in with me and he got so, so sad and said I was still figuring myself out, and that he was my first but not my last."

"First of all, you have got to stop with the moving in thing," she began exasperatedly. "And secondly, what happened when you chased after him?"

"I—I didn't," Buck said quietly.

Taylor's expression flooded with concern and confusion. "You didn't? Buck, that's crazy. You always fight for what's important to you. It's one of your most endearing qualities. You never give up."

"I was hurt and confused and so caught off guard. I thought he needed space and would come to his senses and reach out to me. I think my friends and family thought so too because they told me not to call him. I think they thought he would contact me once he worked through some of his baggage," Buck said, his voice tinged with regret.

"I've wanted to call him so much," he continued, staring at the ceiling. "But I tried to push it down. I took up baking as a distraction. Every time I wanted to call him, I baked something, and soon I had enough pastries to open up my own bakery."

"You want to know what I think?" Taylor asked, shifting to face him fully.

Buck nodded.

"No offense, but you and Tommy are both idiots. You broke up because you both desperately wanted a future together, and then you've both been too cowardly to try and fix it," she said, her tone gentle despite the harsh words.

Taylor had a point, regardless of how much the truth stung.

"It's been months now. I don't even know how to reach out to him at this point," Buck said, running a hand through his hair.

"Why complicate it? If everything you've told me about him is true, he wants to fix it too and he's just scared. Go to him and ask to talk, and then sit down and be vulnerable with each other," she said, squeezing his shoulder.

"You really think that will work?" Buck asked, hope creeping into his voice.

"Trust me," she said. "And I bet you'll get some mind-blowing make-up sex out of it."

Buck blushed. "Thanks, Taylor."

"Go now, before you lose your nerve," she said, giving him a gentle push.

"O-Ok," Buck stammered, visibly nervous. "I can do this."

"You can," she said firmly, conviction in her voice. "And keep me posted."

"I will," Buck promised, already heading for the door with renewed determination.

A few hours later, Taylor's phone buzzed. She opened it to find a picture of Buck and a gorgeous man snuggled together in bed, both beaming at the camera.

Buck: The idiots are back together.

Taylor: I'm so happy for you. Now don't screw it up again, Buckley.

Buck: I wouldn't dream of it.

And looking at their faces in the photo, how they seemed to fit together so perfectly, Taylor knew he meant it.