#But when I first heard it all I could think about was how much it sounded like the singer fell in love with the circus itself

[tookishcombeferre]

I'm a 30 year old transmasc non-binary person. I saw the movie Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was 7 in the theater. My dad's dad had just died, and we weren't all that close. But, it really helped me to see Milo process the death of his own grandfather at the time. I think Atlantis came out about a year(?) after my dad's dad died? Anyway, I really always related to Milo even if I couldn't understand why at the time. (Now I get it.) I just watched the movie again because I wanted to, and my toddler watched bits and pieces with me while we shared some tea. They watched me *bawl.* My mom's dad, though we never got to talk about the fullness of my experience before he died a little less than two years ago, was the only family member who just understood me with no words. He never knew my name or pronouns - so he never used them. But, he got *me.* His yard was where I could climb trees, feed birds, roughhouse, and do all the "forbidden boyish" stuff. I watched Robin Hood and The Sorcerer's Stone in his living room. I built towers up to the ceiling. I got to read Frankenstein on his porch when I was in the seventh grade. I'm pretty sure my first unabridged copy of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was purchased for me by him. He was basically my dad or second-dad. Later, he would listen to me talk about my papers, my poems, and my stories and, in turn, I'd listen to the latest of his research in biophysics, when he was still a researcher, or I'd listen to him explain, in layman's terms, the newest experiments he would read about after he stopped doing his own stuff. These were our lost civilizations and genuine arrowheads. When Mr. Whitmore handed Milo the Shepherd's Journal and said the line "Our lives are marked by the gifts we leave our children, and this is your grandfather's gift to you." My own kid was pillowed on my shoulder. I heard that line at 7. I cried in the theater because it's sad. You don't have to have lived the line for it be sad. I needed to learn loss young so I could feel loss better older. Because, now? That line collapsed on me like a ton of bricks, but I didn't get crushed by those bricks. I had a hard hat and padding to protect me. Like I said, my grandfather was like my dad. He's not coming back. But, he has given me so much. He has left me so much, and I get to decide what I want to leave to my own kid someday. I get to decide what world, what legacy, and what I leave for my own child. Because, it wasn't just the journal that Thaddeus left for Milo. It was the values that allowed Milo to remain steadfast when standing up to people physically stronger than him. I remember that right now. Especially right now. It's not just the intellectual gifts my grandfather left me. It's the tenacity. It's the love. It's protectiveness. It's the gentleness. It's the grace. It's the desire to be curious. It's the *need* to know. It's quiet faith. It's the desire to do justice. It's the desire to see peace for the next generation. It's the desire to listen to all sides of an argument before saying my own piece while also knowing when things have gone way too far and need to be shut down. It's knowing when and how to give people space to grow in their own way and time. Because, while everyone else in my family was forcing me into dresses, my grandfather was letting me climb trees in jeans and sneakers. He also didn't bat an eyelash when I cut my hair off my junior year of high school. So, he may not be here. But, he lives in the gifts he left me. So, while, I got my vaccine at 7, it didn't take effect until 28. Even then, I'm only just starting to feel like I'm actually inoculated at 30.

We can't be afraid to keep inoculating the youth. Kids need to see death, loss, and such like in their media. Withholding it from them just makes them less equipped for these exact moments when they're older. I firmly believe that.

Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.

The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth

[midnite-c6]

Ok now do a trilogy to Thanos x Namgyus gf but make it a threesome 💔

okay 💓 was thinking of doing that in part 2 but i wanted to edge. LMAO.

previous : part 1 ! part 2 ! <3 thanos (choi su-bong) x namgyusgf!reader pt. 3 warnings: 18+, cheating, degradation, pwp, rough sex

ˆつ⁠｡⁠☆ with the back and forth of videos (of you getting fucked by them) being sent on both their phones, it turned into a competition of the two. to see who could make you feel better, but that was getting boring, the best solution is to just share! obviously.

nsfw below!! -> 🫶🏻

"you lying, cheating, slut." nam-gyu slips his cock from your pussy, before ramming it back in again, starting another rhythmic pace of his dick sliding in and out of you. your body was practically floating, having su-bong hold you up from the ground, with his hand tightly holding onto your hair. from this view, he could see you look up at him with cheeks stained with your mascara, how your makeup is ruined, and how you were taking him so well inside your mouth, just like the first time. "so fucking wet." nam-gyu would groan out, pointing out how easy it was to just slip in and out of you for hours. "damn it. one dick isn't enough for you, huh?" your eyes move from thanos' looking up at your boyfriend's. "your slutty dumb brain needs two cocks to fill her up so it's happy, am i correct?" he'd particularly thrust harder during the last sentence, you barely even heard what he said because you were too busy thinking of what he's doing to your cunt right now.

"she's just searchin' for the best." the one inside your mouth replied. you'd only choke against him as he forces himself deeper inside your throat. "fuck off." but nam-gyu couldn't lie, you were clenching him like crazy. he'd only let out a moan from that, spitting on your clit. that was the only sensation your clit had gotten, nam-gyu was ignoring it the whole night because you don't deserve to be pleased like that! now both your pussy and chin is dripping wet from their filthy juices and saliva.

su-bong would pull out of your mouth, giving it some kind of mercy, you can finally breathe the air around you, that was still a difficult task considering now every time nam-gyu pushes inside you, the head of his cock hits your g-spot so perfectly, you'd wonder if he's trying to impress you, that thanos was only second best compared to him, maybe that's why he was your boyfriend in the first place... thanos looks down at your pretty, fucked out face and laughs, "you're such a freak for liking this!" wow. he was one to talk. he then places his dick on your face, rubbing his leaking pre-cum to ruin your face even more. "damn .. even prettier like this, señorita." he just loves seeing your face covered in his sticky cum.. </3

"ma' bro, let me fuck her." nam-gyu stops his thrusts, though not bothering to look at su-bong. "urgh. no." thanos tilts his head to the side. "how about we fuck her both, at the same time?" "what. you're into anal?" "psh, what am i not into? but. both of us. inside her pretty cunt. you can take it, right?" he asks as he tugs on your hair, you were still only getting to calm down from all the thrusting.. "fuck no, dude! i don't want my dick touching yours!" clearly, nam-gyu wasn't high enough for this. "fuuck, man, don't think 'bout that shit, she'll scream ten times more. high risk, high reward. i've seen it in a porno." nam-gyu scoffs, "high risk, high reward my ass. don't care shit 'bout what you watch." nam-gyu was opposed to it.

but seeing you to become an absolute shaking, screaming mess? hell yea. now you're laid down on the rought cement floors of the office room inside club pentagon, your legs being spread wide open, nam-gyu's arm hooked to your left thigh as su-bong's to the right. nam-gyu was first to enter inside you, then you'd already start yelling how it was too much when su-bong starts to push himself in aswell, "su-bong! s-stop! stop!" nam-gyu would harshly slap your face. "no moanin' his name, only mine. got it?" you nodded, fuck was he strict. "yes, sir.." you'd whine out lazily. you were being stretched like crazy, you swear they'd rip you open right about now. thanos finally bottoms out inside you, your body was already shaking, even when they're not even moving. but oh you wished that they stayed that way. now you're moans were practically screams, for sure everyone inside the club, even with the loud music, could hear how much you were being fucked. they were both fast as fuck, not giving you any time to breathe at all, it was like a literal race. nam-gyu's veiny, ringed hands were wrapped around your neck, just to let you know he's in control. thankfully, su-bong would pay attention to your clit, with his thumb pressing hardly against the sensitive bud, maybe you could cum tonight.

that's how you'll spend the night, and many more nights, but right now they're determined to fill your womb with their cum mixed together, like true bestfriends.

phew guys i forgot to add plot this is all sex. damnn . gonna start becoming inactive again and WAY more slow with reqs 💔 i love journalism hahah.

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless!reader au, how the boys would spend HOURS searching for candles that properly represented their scents so reader would feel included in the nest

Anyway just wanted to say I LOVE your writing and you've got me inspired to write my own little designationless!reader au (which if I ever do post, I will tag you for credits ❤️❤️), its just has so many possibilities

Every time I see you post, blog, wtver this website wants to call it, my day gets a little brighter :)

-👽

omg thank you so so so much anon?? you are so very sweet!! i am very happy to know you like my stuff and felt inspired by it!! i hope you enjoy this, your idea was wonderful! <33 omegaverse masterlist

The idea had started innocently enough.

Gaz had mentioned it one night while they were snuggled in the nest, you nestled warm and comfy between them all. You’d fallen asleep on Price’s chest, Soap’s arm thrown over your waist, Ghost’s steady breathing brushing your temple, and Gaz quietly watching from the edge.

“She can’t smell us,” Gaz had murmured, musing and cutting through the peaceful silence. “But… what if she could? Just a little? For the nest.”

It was a seed of an idea that quickly took root in all of them.

The next day, they found themselves walking through shops they’d normally never step foot in- boutiques, candle stores, even a few farmers’ markets. Price looked utterly out of place amongst rows of colorful jars, his gruff demeanor clashing with the delicate scents wafting around him. Soap, on the other hand, took to it with a determination that made the staff wary as he sniffed candle after candle, holding them up to Gaz and Ghost for confirmation.

“This one’s close, isn’t it?” he asked, holding up a jar labeled Amber Woods. He shoved it under Ghost’s nose, earning an irritated growl.

“Too sweet,” Ghost muttered then, shaking his head. “Try again.”

Gaz was off in another aisle, holding up a candle labeled Vanilla Bourbon and frowning. “This isn’t right either. It’s too… fake.” He sighed, setting it down with a heavy thunk. “How’s it this hard to find something that fits?”

Price stood in the corner, his brow furrowed as he examined the names on the candles. He knew and had been told many times his cedarwood scent was sharp and earthy, grounding in a way that none of these synthetic imitations could capture. He picked one up- Smoked Cedar- and took a deep inhale.

“Not bad." He said after a moment, setting it aside in their “maybe” pile.

They spent hours combing through the store, moving from candle jars to wax melts to essential oil blends. They argued with each other quietly, then with the amused store employees, their tones growing increasingly frustrated with each other as they tried to find scents that truly represented themselves.

“It’s just a candle, sirs,” One employee, clearly annoyed with them, chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Does it really matter this much?”

Ghost’s dark eyes snapped to him, his voice low and dangerous, not helped by the balaclava and cap he wore. “It’s not just a candle. It’s for someone.”

That shut the employee up quickly.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity and much sniffing, they settled on a few options.

When they brought the candles back to the nest (oh, how they loved that you were beginning to spend more and more of your free time there), you blinked up at them, confused by their triumphant expressions and the little bag Price held in his hand. They looked a little too proud of themselves.

“What’s all this?” You asked, sitting up from your spot. I

“Something for you.” Price said simply, his voice soft as he placed candles on the table.

Soap grinned, almost vibrating with excitement and pride as he gestured for you to come closer. “Go on, lass. Smell ‘em.”

You leaned forward, hesitantly uncapping the first candle. The cedarwood hit you first, earthy and grounding, and your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed in delight. You glanced up at Price when you heard a deep rumble you've come to understand as prideful.

“This is.... you, isn't it?” you realized, earning a small nod from him.

You went through each one, inhaling the soft citrus of Soap’s, the richness of Ghost’s smoky scent, the soothing vanilla of Gaz’s. By the time you finished, you stared at them with something akin to more awe than the sun has for its orbiting planets.

“You did this... for me?”

“Of course,” Gaz pressed a kiss to your temple. “Wanted you to feel like you’re part of us. Always.”

You didn’t know what to say, but as they lit the candles and pulled you back into the nest, you felt surrounded by them in a way you never had before.

And for the first time, you felt as if you could... be like them. For once, you understood what their scents were like- a part of their world for just a moment.

You will be keeping those candles.

[yup-thats-me]

slipping through my fingers • Lee Byung-hun

pairing: husband!Lee Byung-Hun x wife!reader

summary: funny tricks of time; growing old with your husband

warning: growing old, age gap. please, please i beg of you don't think too hard about byung-hun and the reader's ages, please. when I tell you me and my friend had to storm our brains for an hour to calculate their ages. please. also, i suggest you listen to the song while reading this<3

"bye bye, momma!" waved goodbye your little girl. she was in high school now, and you and your husband were grateful that your prized girl was not like most teenagers. she was understanding, gentle.

byung-hun stood beside his wife, eyes on the yellow school bus. "seems like yesterday that she came into this world, doesn't it darling?'' he said as he laid his head on her shoulder.

"Mmm", she nodded. "time is cruel."

it really was. how can it be that your daughter is almost at the age where she'll be leaving home when it barely feels that you've been with your husband for barely two years? oh, at it had been eighteen years when you had met Byung-hun.

Byung-hun was a regular at the cafe y/n worked at. he would go there as soon as he wrapped up filming for the day. from the early days of his acting career, he frequented the cafe but it had only been a few months since the waitress. y/n had joined.

she was so sweet, smiling at everyone, not an ounce of anger or tiredness in her eyes. he knew he was at least twenty years older than the girl but it didn't matter, right?

"can i get your name, sweetheart?"

it'd be a lie if y/n said she didn't feel like melting onto the earth. his voice dripping with honey, his eyes smiling.

"y/n."

that had been their first date. Byung-hun had asked her manager if she could leave early. she of course, agreed. how could anyone would deny Lee Byung-hun anything?

that day was eighteen years ago. how time flies.

Byung-hun kissed his wife goodbye. "when I come back let's go out for a movie? with d/n?" she nodded.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"you ready, sweetheart?"

y/n asked fixing her daughter's veil. her little girl was getting married, she's truly going into the world, with someone she loves, adores.

no words could explain how y/n felt. this is the same girl she had given birth to, her little fingers had wrapped around her thumb so adoringly. so naturally.

it's time for her little girl to hold someone else.

y/n wiped the corners of her eyes, not wanting to let her daughter see her cry. "your father is waiting outside. let's go?" her voice trembling slightly.

Byung-hun stood outside the doors, his mind replaying the old times. it feels like yesterday that he held his daughter for the first time, only yesterday had he heard his little girl call him 'appa' for the first time. oh how he had felt the world around him stop at that moment. he really missed the old times.

when his wife came outside holding his daughter, he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"you look so beautiful, princess." he said hugging his girl.

d/n wiped her tears as well. it felt surreal having her father cry while holding her. "appa, I'm still your little girl. I promise."

y/n patted her husband. the rays of sun falling onto the family, making them look ethereal. after they had composed themselves, y/n softly pushed through the doors of the altar.

she held her daughter's hand, her husband linking his arm with d/n. the music wafted through the venue. some of byung-hun and y/n's friends had tears in their eyes too. to them, d/n was also their beloved girl. time really flies.

when the priest pronounced officially d/n and her lover, y/n had intertwined her arms with her husband. it was much very hard for Byung-hun than her. the man saw his girl as the world, ready to bring the world at her feet. he would become so proud at all of d/n's achievement, no matter small or big. he really was d/n's greatest fanboy.

y/n rested her head against Byung-hun's shoulder, comforting him as d/n and her lover kissed.

beautiful.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"you look so beautiful, my love," came Byung-hun's voice as he handed his wife a cup of coffee as the sat on their porch.

y/n laughed. time had certainly left its marks. "you've been telling me that for the last 35 years, my love."

"and," byung-hun leaned down to kiss y/n's hand. "i would continue to do so till my last breath, sweetheart."

"I love you."

[moontyger]

I've been meaning to reply to this for awhile and it's largely because I feel like functionally, the person above who said formality in English is dying is right. I have seen people claim that, for example, using honorifics when translating Japanese is bad translation and you can demonstrate the same thing in English. And I have never agreed. "Formal Japanese is like speaking to your boss" is something that I've heard a lot, but I don't really feel there's a huge difference in language in (US American) English. All right, so you don't say "fuck" or "shit" or that something "sucks." But how do you tell the difference between that and someone who simply doesn't use curse words? You can't. (And except for the times when I worked for medical doctors, I've always called my bosses by their first name and it would have stood out as unusual if I didn't.)

Like those 5 examples of formality levels above? So A is something you'll only see in written English. It's the language of things like wedding invitations, which have retained formal customs that are no longer used in other areas. If someone is actually speaking like that, I'm at a Ren Faire; this is not everyday language. No one speaks to their boss like this and if you did, it would stand out as very odd - so much so that you might even be spoken to about it because it would be assumed it was a deliberate affectation and possibly even mocking. (But if you're trying to represent the speech of a character who speaks archaic Japanese, it would work for that, but obviously that is not the same as merely formal.)

B is something you might hear, but it is still a little unusually stiff. It sounds like the person is uncomfortable more than they're being formal, like they're asking someone out on a first date. (Though I guess 'formal' is maybe meant to be 'I am terrified to speak to this person'? But I never got the impression that that's quite right.) People would notice if someone were speaking like this and probably flag it as a sign of nervousness, maybe social awkwardness if they did it all the time.

And E is just... do real people speak like this? (Also it's complicated, because if they do, I also feel like this language is not just informal, it's gendered male and coded as young, so maybe it's just a bad example because it's folded so many things into it beyond formality.)

As an aside: this is part of why I think kids are often still expected to use titles when adults aren't. Socially, the US is more hierarchical with children and expects formalities from them that are not expected of adults.

This leaves C and D as the quotidian examples. D is less formal, granted, but would I say it to my boss? Sure. (OK, I actually wouldn't, but that's because I've never called a meal "a bite" in my life. But "wanna grab lunch" seems fine. It doesn't strike me as inappropriate.) So I guess I feel like yes, technically all these levels of formality exist, but most of them are not actually used any longer, so if you're using them for translating contemporary people speaking, results may be very "real people don't talk like this."

Now maybe part of this is that I live in a very informal area of the country. Maybe in other regions they really are using B to speak to their boss. But it definitely isn't a universal thing such that I would feel it was something that could be said of "modern English" in general. (Also all the examples above as well as my perspective are very white, which is of course also a complication with modern spoken American English: there are real racial distinctions. So to some extent it is a hard language to generalize.)

Edit to Add: I also want to note here that this really has changed pretty quickly. People in the 1950s and 60s were much more formal than they are now and even somewhat more formal in the 1980s. You could definitely extrapolate something about politics and some people wanting more hierarchy (and freaking out about the lack of it) from a panic about the loss of formality in spoken language.

I'm so fascinated by languages with different levels of formality built in because it immediately introduces such complex social dynamics. The social distance between people is palpable when it's built right into the language, in a way it's not really palpable in English.

So for example. I speak Spanish, and i was taught to address everyone formally unless specifically invited otherwise. People explained to me that "usted" was formal, for use with strangers, bosses, and other people you respect or are distant from, while "tú" is used most often between family and good friends.

That's pretty straightforward, but it gets interesting when you see people using "tú" as a form of address for flirting with strangers, or for picking a fight or intimidating someone. In other languages I've sometimes heard people switch to formal address with partners, friends or family to show when they are upset. That's just so interesting! You're indicating social and emotional space and hierarchy just in the words you choose to address the other person as "you"!!

Not to mention the "what form of address should I use for you...?" conversation which, idk how other people feel about it, but to me it always felt awkward as heck, like a DTR but with someone you're only just becoming comfortable with. "You can use tú with me" always felt... Weirdly intimate? Like, i am comfortable around you, i consider you a friend. Like what a vulnerable thing to say to a person. (That's probably also just a function of how i was strictly told to use formal address when i was learning. Maybe others don't feel so weird about it?)

And if you aren't going to have a conversation about it and you're just going to switch, how do you know when? If you switch too soon it might feel overly familiar and pushy but if you don't switch soon enough you might seem cold??? It's so interesting.

Anyway. As an English-speaking American (even if i can speak a bit of Spanish), i feel like i just don't have a sense for social distance and hierarchy, really, simply because there isn't really language for it in my mother tongue. The fact that others can be keenly aware of that all the time just because they have words to describe it blows my mind!

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 1: The Nervous Flirt

When the Great Shift hit the world, everyone was thrown into chaos. However, eventually society resettled into a new and more accepting form. At some point everyone would have to get used to their new bodies… right?

Well for a few individuals out there, after the great shift, they still were… adjusting. No matter how much time happened, some were cursed with an awkward new perspective in life. 

Maxwell, was nervous. More nervous than usual! Before the great shift, he had recently come out as gay to his close friends and family! While, they were all super accepting and happy for him, that didn’t solve his issues… talking to people he liked! No matter how many times he tried, he would turn into a stuttering mess whenever a hot guy was in the vicinity. He was lucky enough that his small unassuming frame meant no one could see his failures.

When the great shift happened, he thought things might be different.  New body! New me! That was the mantra he’d heard many people say as he had browsed forums and self help spaces. Turns out many people just needed a new body to reorient their social skills and  come out of their shell! At first Maxwell thought he’d be one of them!

He knew that he was a lot stronger in this body. He still wore his glasses, but these arms were no joke. Plus he didn’t have any skin issues anymore and he finally had some decent facial hair to work with! It all seemed to add up to something of a turning point for his life. 

That wasn’t the case.

Turns out a new body came with the same issues PLUS a few new ones too. Maxwell couldn’t form a straight sentence around hot guys, even newly hot guys who had never been hit on before! Even if Maxwell was just as handsome and good looking, his words fell apart at the slightest bit of attraction. Not only that, but his pool of attraction doubled. Apparently the guy he’d become was bisexual and loved flirting with men and women! So now not only did hot men make his speech a mess, but beautiful ladies did as well! A single hot woman could ruin his night if she asked for directions! A studly man asking if he wanted a drink would have him run out of the bar! No matter what seemed to happen, Maxwell was still an awkward dork.

Going from 5’5 to 6’2 didn’t help either. Now everyone could see this towering confident stud look like a complete fool! And his quick escapes were a thing of the past since every time he tried to run away he’d trip over his large size 15 feet. The last time he tried to flee from a failed flirt he knocked over two waiters and spilled 3 drinks over the person he was talking to. He needed some help. 

His friends did their best to console him, but even they had difficulty finding a clear solution. 

“Come on dude, you’ve got to stop biting your nails!” Beth, his best friend since college said after another night of failed flirting.

“I’m sorry Beth!” Maxwell whined in his new voice. Previously that expression was met with more nasally tones, but now even his wines made such flirtatious sounds when it came out of his new deep voice. “I just can’t stop thinking about that couple that asked if I wanted to join them tonight. The guy was soooo hot! He was like some kind of bodybuilder! And the girl! She could’ve been a super model. And i just froze and ran away!”

“It’s ok. I know that you want to pursue a relationship post shift. There’s no shame in striking out. Lots of people are having a hard time finding love.” Beth chimed in trying to comfort her friend.

“Easy for you to say. You and your fiance got Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth’s bodies! And you’re still together!” Maxwell complained, burying his head in his pillow, still shirtless and showing off his impressive arms.

“I… I admit. We did get lucky. I know all our friends love Marvel, and my fiance and I are mega nerds… and the role play in the bedroom is fun and-”

“Beth!”

“Sorry! I just mean, that nothing is hopeless.  You’ll find what you’re looking for soon. And hey, if it helps you can try flirting with me and Erin tonight.” Beth offered.

Maxwell blushed… and then slowly nodded. Maybe flirting with two of his biggest celebrity crushes would solve his issue after all.

[nobbin0]

Cash payments in return for interviews with North Korean refugees have been standard practice in the field for years. Initially, the payment was to cover the cost of meals and local transport, which was approximately $30 in the late 1990s when I first began interviewing in China and South Korea. However, the fees had risen to $200 per hour by the time I attempted to interview people from North Korea in May 2014. A government official from the South Korean ministry of unification told me the range of fees could vary wildly, from $50-500 per hour, depending on the quality of information. But this practice raises a difficulty: how does the payment change the relation between a researcher and an interviewee, and what effect will it have on the story itself? North Korean refugees are well aware of what the interviewer wants to hear. But many refugees say they feel pressured for defector stories. Ahn Myung-chol, a former prison guard at Camp 22, said people liked shocking stories and these so-called “defector-activists” were merely responding to this desire. Chong Kwang-il, a former prisoner at Camp 15, said the fame brought by media exposure trapped them, forcing them to reproduce a certain narrative. Choi Sung-chol, from the Korean Nationality Residents Association, said the line between small and large inconsistencies was often hard to draw: “Most North Koreans do not worry about small factual mistakes as long as the big picture that North Korea violates human rights is right.”

Why do North Korean defector testimonies so often fall apart? Btw, the Guardian is by no means an accurate source for news on the DPRK. But that's not saying much since you can say the same thing for most mainstream news sources lol.

South Korea: Man gets 14-month jail term for praising North in poem

S Korean activist Hwang Sung arrested for 'praising' North

South Korean National Security Act: Any positive speech regarding the DPRK is censored and punishable by law in South Korea

Celebrity defector returns to North Korea, stars in propaganda video

Another North Korean defector says he’s stuck in South Korea, wants to go home

South Korea boosts reward for defectors from North to $860,000

North Korean Waitresses’ Defection May Have Been Forced, U.N. Official Says

'Forever strangers': the North Korean defectors who want to go back

Effective evangelistic strategies for North Korean defectors (talbukmin) in South Korea

Free to Be: North Korean Migrants and the South Korean Evangelical Church

If you went through these articles, then you might notice they keep mentioning "brokers" or "defection brokers", who have a pattern of lying to solicit money from defectors in exchange for helping them cross the borders. Once they arrive, it is about impossible to return, so let's call these brokers what they are. They are human traffickers.

Most of the defectors are women, and are victims of sex trafficking. Most of the defectors are targets of the civilizing mission of the churches. They took full advantage of the years of famine in the 90s to recruit as many desperate north koreans as they could, and predictably their recruitment number has only dropped since. There's full fucking dissertations on strategies to best convert them that I've linked above, and they're a disgusting read.

Almost all the sources above are pointedly anti-DPRK and part of global efforts to normalize racism against the DPRK, so if anyone comes at me with screenshots of passages taken out of context, I will personally kill you. I think it speaks for itself when these stories are so vast and demanding to be heard that even the institutions least likely to hear them cannot fucking help but lend them an ear.

I hope the world can see these stories before they're too late because there's not going to be a mass exodus to a north korean social media app to help anyone come to an epiphany that people inhabiting the same earth as you are fucking human.

Leftist post about DPRK: you have been lied to about DPRK, it is a pretty normal country under siege by the west. It is not a hereditary kingdom under one man rule. It's citizens are human beings. The government is fine. You have been lied to about DPRK

The people who have been lied to about DPRK, but think they're smarter & more empathetic than the other riffraff who have been lied to abt DPRK:

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 394

Brief summary: Cale talks to GoD. Cale receives his rewards for completing the subquest. Cale feels ominous at what Clopeh had done.

==========

I couldn't help but laugh at and feel sorry for GoD at the same time. 😂😂😂

Cale: Are you busy? GoD: Very busy. Cale: How's the GoC these days? GoD: …What did you do? Cale: Haven't you heard from CJS? GoD: They don't tell me anything anymore. Shameless bastards. Don't they even know that they're living so freely because of me? Cale: Okay, I'll send those two to Earth 3 while we're in the game. Also, I'll briefly explained what happened, so listen carefully. GoD: Oh yes! I'm looking forward to it! Cale: Ha. It's not something that will have a big impact on your side of the god realm. But I thought it would be good for you to know. It's nothing much, but just know. Cale: *tells the chaos he did* Alberu and Rosalyn: (Nothing much?) *looks in disbelief* Cale: …And that's what happened. GoD's mirror: *vibrates intensely* GoD: T-T-This crazy bastard! Y-You are really the best! Hahahahaha! I was a genius for choosing you! Hahahahaha! Cale: Are you crazy? *contemplates on breaking the mirror* GoD: Ahem. Cale: Anyway, since I've set up the board, the gods should fight each other according to that. GoD: Ah. Even without that, there's currently a standoff without any progress. There are gods who are increasingly siding with GoC. Because of that, GoB is going crazy and running wild. Also, there is also talk of her stepping down from the position of representative because GoB is not doing her job properly. In addition, since the title of ancient god is not very useful, there's talk of creating a system by appointing new leader-level gods other than the ancient gods throughout the god realm. Btw, I'm one of them- Cale: Stop. The affairs of the god realm are none of my business. I only care about the hunters and the absolute gods. The rest is up to you, the god and demon realms. GoD: You really think so? Cale: What? GoD: Heh. Cale: *feels annoyed and turns off the screen* GoD: Sorry, I won't tease you! Tell me more!

GoD seems to know that every time Cale denies involvement with the gods, he continues to set up flags in becoming involved with them. 😂😂😂

That lore drop about ancient gods though. I thought "ancient god" was just some adjective to call the old gods, but it was actually a title and had some significance. The appointment of new leader-level gods was also a surprise, and the fact that our GoD was included as a candidate... 🤣🤣🤣

After a few months, CJS and Sui were mentioned again. Cale planned to leave the Earth 3 matters to them while he plays the game. And King Zed was mentioned too!

Apparently, when a person was nearing their death, their name would appear on GoD's Death List six months before their death. Included were also details related to their death, such as the time and location of death.

However, Zed's place of death kept changing, so GoD couldn't tell much to Cale. There was also restrictions around it, so GoD said he would have to prepare for it before he could tell Cale the info.

Moving on, Cale got to talk to the System AI upon completing the subquest. He achieved his quest so splendidly that the system rated it as SSS+. He got a potion that he needed to pour on Count Lupe's forehead to restore Lupe's memories.

The System AI was so happy that Cale hit the Transparent Bloods, the Demon Realm, and the God of Chaos all at the same time. So the extra reward Cale got for achieving SSS+ in his quest was just too OP!

Red Hand (Rank: God) -When using the skill, you can make a "judgement" through a "trial with the System" and activate "Red Hand" when you are "permitted". -If you understand that the absolute god of the New World already exists, it will be easier to receive "permission" in the "judgement".

Red Hand was the game's response to game errors, and if you recall, it once tried to kill Cale when he first entered the game. But now, Cale had it as a skill? Since the "absolute god" of New World was the System AI, and it was that very System AI who gave the Red Hand skill to Cale, it meant that Cale could freely get "permission" in using the skill. Cale is becoming god-like even inside the game! 😂😂😂

As Cale smiled, another quest window popped into view. And he froze. [Recovery Rate 99.31% (Time remaining: 23:19)] [Nativity Progress 159%] [Reward Tier Undetermined] “Huh?” Why is the nativity progress over 100%? How is that possible? “Damn.” Clopeh Sekka, what the hell did you do? Cale's heart raced. It was the moment he realized something was coming that he couldn't handle.

It's here! Cale's reaction to Clopeh Sekka's actions! 🤣🤣🤣 Yeah, what the heck did Clopeh do that the birth/nativity progress surpassed 100%? 😂😂😂

Ending Remarks So much happened today. Next chapter would be our poor Cale learning what Clopeh had done (and learning about Sheritt's "betrayal"). 😂 We would probably hear about what happened to Count Lupe too once he wakes up. So Eden's birth should be next week?

[corkinavoid]

Obsessed With You by Cosmicandy

Theater gothic/Phantom of the opera

(For some horrific reason I couldn't think of a trope)

DPxDC Phantom in the Opera

9/2 sat

Went to Gotham City Opera to see Eugene Onegin with B & Dames. The performance sucked ass (as modern takes on classics usually do), but during Tatyana's aria, some tech guy dropped a rubber chicken from catwalks right on stage. I bet it was on purpose since the lead's voice sounded much similar to the sound that chicken made. Wish I could shake the dude's hand, that was truly the crescendo of the whole scene.

15/2 sun

Came by GCO on the way to WE. Had some time to spare, so decided to go in and find the rubber chicken guy to thank him for the laugh last week. Thought he might appreciate the positive feedback since he was defo yelled at for the stunt. Turns out everyone blames it on a 'ghost'. Using 'Phantom of the Opera' as a cover story is poor taste, in my opinion, but on the other hand, it worked, and who am I to judge.

17/2 mon

Got curious and pulled up the records of GCO employees. No one matches the guy I've seen on the catwalks.

18/2 tue

Blackmailed Damian into drawing the guy. No match through the face recognition program. Should have expected that, really; the one cute guy with a sense of humor I meet (or see, actually), and he doesn't exist.

20/2 thur

Can't stop thinking about the rubber chicken guy. Might have to go back to GCO and ask about the whole ghostly rumor. Last time, no one bat an eye at the 'ghost' excuse, now that I think about it. Has it happened before? Is it a go-to explanation for any prank no one wants to take credit for?

26/2 wed

Visited GCO at night. Seen the guy, but the cam footage came back corrupted when checked downstairs. So maybe the fact that his hair was floating and glowing in the dark was not a hallucination.

27/2 thur

Definitely not a hallucination! Good news: got a sample. Bad news: after analysis, the data also came back corrupted. Weird news: the hair keeps glowing even after it's been cut off.

2/3 sun

The guy's name is Danny. Ghost story confirmed. I'm having a crisis.

4/3 tue

I'm not sure if I want to know absolutely everything there is to know about him or I want to forget everything I've already learned. But then, I've already got so far. Might as well commit to the bit?

8/3 sat

Was invited to see La Traviata tomorrow. Can I still call that reconnaissance, or am I in date territory?

10/3 mon

...it was a date. On an entirely unrelated note, Teddy Hyde ruined all my attempts at coming prepared.

18/3 tue

Heard a new rumor among GCO staff members. They suspect the ghost in their opera is having a crush on Red Robin. Not sure where they've got that idea, but it sure took them some time to notice.

19/3 wed

Damian keeps staring at me at dinners. Maybe I should take that portrait of Danny that he did down from the wall over my bed.

22/3 sat

Going on a date today, and this time, it's definitely a date! Feels like I should be having a crisis over dating a ghost, but somehow, I'm only having a crisis over outfit choices.

61/0° gBs

hEy, yoU're keEEpinG a DIary¡ aboUt Me!¡ ThAt"s cuTe FUCK OFF DANNY THIS IS PRIVATE INFORMATION GET OUT heHeheEhe no~

~•~•~•~

The thing is, I loved the song. And I loved the aesthetic. And I had such a goddamn hard time figuring out how to fit them together; I went through at least three different setups before deciding fuck it imma write silly boys being silly and wish for the best.

Dare I say it turned out cute as fuck, even though I still missed the mark on theater gothic aesthetic for the most part. Anyway, have a few pictures for general vibes!

[Just so you know, if you enter 'sex with a ghost' into google, the first few results will be the lyrics to 'Sex with a Ghost' by Terry Hyde, which is why Tim's research has been rather fruitless]

[amaryllis-3]

Pairing: Stalker! König × Fem Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI, 18+, dark content, stalking, dubcon, noncon (both are hinted, non vividly described)

No matter how much you might have wanted to believe otherwise, you weren't alone. You were aware of that.

The windows were shuttered, heavy curtains drawn to shroud the glass, and yet you could still feel his eyes staring at you, following your every movement without missing a single one.

It almost made you suspect he was stuck inside with you.

As if fate was trying to mock you, a dull noise echoed behind you. Loud enough to be heard in the complete silence of your flat, loud enough to inform you of his presence.

Ah, he considered you so incapable of escaping him that he didn't really worry about blowing his cover. After all the weeks he'd spent observing you, he knew deep down that you wouldn't stand a chance anyway. Not against someone like him.

Your body petrified in its position, heart racing and lump trapped in your throat. Your face hardly turned, just the right amount to spot the man standing near the door that separated the kitchen from the living room.

There was no doubt whatsoever regarding his identity, even though that was the first time he'd let himself be completely seen. You'd glimpsed his shadow on different occasions, nothing he hadn't chosen to show you, however.

He was enormous, more imposing than anyone you'd ever met. His squared shoulders virtually succeeded in blocking any trail of light coming from the adjacent room, and that veil... That black veil which masked every possible detail of his features, except for the piercing blue irises, sent your anxiety sky-high.

He was on you before you could think of doing anything. Absurd how someone so big could move so fast. His arm closed around your waist, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing and making your back crash into his broad chest. Despite the material in between, you could sense his hot breath branding your neck, his lips parting to whisper in your ear: "I caught you, Mäuschen."

Your eyes began to sting, salty tears soon to be shed as his other hand travelled down, resting on your belly. His gloved fingers barely shifted the fabric of your top to caress your heated skin.

"You did so well... ignoring all the signs." His voice wasn't what you'd expect from a mountain of a man such as him: it wasn't deep, rough, or gruff, but it came out somewhat high-pitched, in an accented, sickeningly sweet flow that managed to give you goosebumps. "That's why you can't be left alone. Anyone could sneak in here, and you wouldn't even notice."

The "just like me" wasn't uttered. It wasn't really necessary, not with the way the implication had settled in the air around you. He'd already done it. He'd violated the security of your home who knows how many times prior to that. He'd invaded your privacy, and you'd made no effort to stop him, nothing sufficient at least.

On top of all the paranoia and fear he'd planted in you, he also had the audacity to toy with you. Playing with his prey before snatching it, not unlike a cat with mice. Had you perhaps become that? A mouse about to be devoured?

"Don't be afraid." If his aim was to reassure you, he was doing a terrible job. His hand descended lower until it cupped your mound, thick fingertips tentatively rubbing the area where your clothed clit should have been. A choked sob escaped your mouth when you felt the outline of his cock pressing against your ass, the reality of what was to happen shortly thereafter starting to grow painfully clear.

"I'll take care of you from now on."

➮ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[pinechips]

Why do I love WN? Hmm, I already wrote a pretty lengthy ramble, so let me paste that again.

I think this is a good time to say something about Warrior Nun - because most of the tags from the other fandom are "I don't even know these girls!" Then you might be curious about what this freaking ship is and why people love Avatrice so much. To avoid spoilers, let me just focus on *my* feelings about this ship (and this amazing show).

I came across Warrior Nun on my twt timeline because some of my friends didn't stop talking about it. I was curious and watched the show - and fell in love. 

Hmm, what can I say? It reminds me of the feeling of first love - when you really don't know what it is, but you realize "this must be it, otherwise how could I feel this way?". The pure happiness you feel just by looking at someone (not even as your gf). 

But there is a maturity in their love. The way you just want her to be happy - whether you will be able to see her or not. Oh, I can probably write 5k words here, and I already wrote 400k about their love on ao3. I still have more stories to write.

After I fell in love with it, the show was canceled by Netflix. It is a really good show and proved to be successful enough (we have a full report on ratings and popularity analysis). Still, it was canceled. So the fandom decided to be loud, to be heard, as much as possible, as far as possible. The fandom put up a billboard in front of the Netflix headquarters. Then sent an erotic pastry to Netflix executives (based on our internal jokes about a scene in the show). We want them to remember what our show means to us. We also want others to know how much fans support this show. I'm not going to tell ya what's happened in the last two years because it hasn't been an easy fight (well, it's been worth every second, though).

So the Warrior Nun fandom has some *history* too, if you ask me. And I fucking love that I haven't seen any disrespect to other fandoms from the WN side in this whole poll mess. I love WN so much, but I also respect every other fandom. We need more w/w representation, always.

It got long and less funny than I planned, but I hope this piques your curiosity about my favorite show. Please watch it and if you like it, join us to talk about it. We love new friends.

(And this is how my lunch hour ends. All the things I do for Avatrice...)

Top Femslash Ships Bracket - FINALS

[weregonnaneedabiggerboat]

That Stupid Rabbit!

Lee!You x Ler!Jax

CW: Some baby talk, lots of teasing, Jax is a mean ler, and obvs tickling so scroll if that's not your thing!

A/N: Your persona is a squeaky toy plush here! This fic is sort of an addition to this drawing of Jax that I did. Also, this is my first tickling fic so let me know if you enjoyed!!

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

Stumbling back into your room after a long and tedious adventure, you collapse in your bed and heave a huge sigh. You were mentally and emotionally exhausted, and also a little bit annoyed.

What made Caine think that doing a dangerous labyrinth would be a fun adventure!? Why can't it just be an easter egg hunt or something!

You grunted loudly and covered your head with a pillow, hoping to get some shut eye soon so you could forget about today. It wasn't just the adventure that bothered you, but also the troubling transition into a whole other reality. You loved all your new friends, but sometimes their cynical attitudes towards everything was discouraging to deal with.

Not that you could blame them, being stuck here for a long time must have done something to their minds, evidenced by the fact Pomni understood you the most.

You just sighed and turned over in your bed, trying to brush all these thoughts away. Your arm extended to reach out for the lamp next to your bed, when all of a sudden you saw a shadow standing at the doorway.

You yelped, a brief look of surprise crossing your face, but your expression fell flat in annoyance when you realized who came knocking.

Course you left your door unlocked, because how could this day get any worse?

The stupid purple bunny man, Jack or whatever his name was, grinned at you as he leaned on the frame of the doorway.

“Hey there, Squeaky,” he teased, tilting his head, feigning innocence.

Yeah. Squeaky. That's what he called you. So original.

“Someone's happy to see me~"

“@#$& off, Jax,” you grunted, collapsing on your bed again and covering your face with the pillow. “I'm not in the mood for another stupid prank of yours, leave me alone.”

Jax always looked for excuses to make your plush body squeak, either by dropping you from a small height or by pushing you against something. You only figured he came here for some cheap entertainment, since the others were all ganged up and you were alone.

“What? Can't a guy check on his best buddy in the whole world without it bein a crime?" he taunted, raising his arms as if he was being accused.

You heard him welcome himself into your bedroom, and he stopped right before you. From the limited vision you had looking at the bottom of your pillow, you could see his looming figure standing before you.

“I'm serious, you cottontail jerk, get out of my— H-Hey!!”

You jolted when you felt him poke your belly, making your stuffed body squeak again. Only this time, you squeaked too.

“J-Jax!!” you exclaimed, immediately flipping the pillow to cover your belly instead of your face. However, you quickly realized how awful of an idea that was, evidenced by your slight sinking into your shoulders, since Jax could now fully see just how much that move made you blush.

Betraying you, your face heated up the more his grin widened. If it got any longer it could probably wrap around his face, you thought, and that idea almost made you smile if it wasn't for your situation right now.

“This is new, Squeaky,” he teased, poking your side from below the pillow. Jax laughed as your hand swiftly came to the rescue, smacking his wrist out of the way. “What’s the matter, Squeaky? You're awfully squirmy today~"

“Jax enough!!” you growled defensively, though it came off way less threatening than you would've liked, especially with how much your face was blushing.

However, in typical Jax fashion, he totally ignored you and poked your side again, and again, and again. And each time you tried to cover it he'd just switch his hand to poking the other side.

You started to giggle and kick your legs, squirming even more to get away from his fingers. This reaction seemed to entice him even more, as the more giggly you got, the more he poked you in different places.

“Aww is the little squeaky toy ticklish~?” he cooed with a mocking voice, grinning smugly when you returned his tease with an embarrassed glare.

The t-word!? Seriously!?

How does he always find such effective ways of bullying you?

Also, the way he said it so confidently made you sink into yourself even more, using the pillow as some sort of shield to protect you so you can hide away and never come out.

And of COURSE your reaction to that word didn't go unnoticed by him, because his ears flicked straight up in curiosity once he saw you look away. He almost looked intrigued at this new vulnerability he discovered, lidding his eyes and raising his eyebrows.

"Sh-Shut up,” you murmured.

“What? Why?” he chuckled, wiggling his fingers in the air and snickering at your embarrassed reaction. “Are ya ticklish, Squeaky~?”

You let out a whine and tried to hit him with the pillow, pleading for him to get off. Which didn't help at all by the way, since he just grabbed it from your hands and tossed it aside.

“I said shut up!!” you scolded.

“Haha, there is no way you get flustered from the word tickle!” He was laughing at you at this point, and it was starting to make you feel embarrassed and a little belittled.

You looked away and pouted sadly, which he noticed, and his expression calmed down slightly as a result.

Of course he was just mocking you, what did you expect? There was no way he was ever going to—

“There's no need to be so ashamed, Squeaky,” he chuckled with a less taunting tone than before, interrupting your invasive thoughts. Jax didn't stoop as low as to make fun of something so vulnerable. Then he added, “Buuut, don't think this is going to save you from anything~”

He cracked his knuckles and grinned down at you, and your eyes widened in response, because now he climbed on top of your bed and sat on your legs, limiting your movement.

No. No, he wouldn't, he can't! You'd probably explode into a million pieces or something!! What the hell did he think he was doing!?

"What the heck are you—"

“Get ready, Squeaky, because I'm... going to…” He watched your expression with narrowed, amused eyes, looking down at you with maybe the most evil look you've ever seen come from his face. He then raised his hands and slowly made a clawing motion with his fingers.

“Tickle you~”

Before you could respond, he quickly descended his wiggling fingers into your ribs, and you squealed out in a fit of giggles, trying to kick your feet or push him or something! But his weight on top of you prevented you from squirming too far, and your arms uselessly wrapped around your chest.

“Tickle, tickle~” he cooed, and every time you squealed, it just encouraged him even more. “Yeah? That make you blush?" he taunted, moving his fingers into every corner that made you giggle.

"Hmm, what about... Coochicoochicoo~” he cooed, his fingers scrambling into your ribs, as he poked and prodded around in there.

“JAHAHAX!!” you shrieked through your laughter, feeling like you were about to have a heart attack from all this out of nowhere teasing coming from him. Your face felt hot with embarrassment, and you closed your eyes tightly to avoid eye contact. “STOHOHOP!! IHIHI’M SERIOUHUHUS!!”

“No way! This is way too good!!” He laughed along with you, experimenting with different spots, his fingers squirming and poking anywhere your arms failed to block, almost as if he was searching for something.

“Where's your tickle spot, Squeaky? I know you have one~” he sang. “Is it here? Or here? Or maybe here?”

You felt his fingers wriggle at your ribs, then your belly, then your neck. Each touch tickled even more than the last, and it didn't just feel like tickling, it felt like tickling that he was very much enjoying.

You swiped your arms up and down your body helplessly. Every time you blocked your sides, he tickled your ribs, and every time you blocked your ribs, he tickled your sides. There was no winning!

And then, you made a big mistake.

You lifted your arms to grab at his wrists and finally pull them off of you, but before you could catch them—

“Oh I know, HERE!!” he declared, pushing his index fingers under your arms and making you scream even more with embarrassed laughter. He laughed at his own victory, and you just couldn't seem to catch a break.

“NOHOHO!! NO JAHAX STOHOHOP PLEHEASE!!” you pleaded with the rabbit, clamping your arms down on his hands and trying your best to arch your back. It was no use, you just trapped his hands under your arms, and you couldn't find the strength to lift them.

“You're just making this easier and easier for me, Squeaky,” he chuckled, grinning down at you and continuing to wriggle his fingers under your clamped down arms. “Tickle, tickle~”

You couldn't even get any more words out now, not that it mattered because he wasn't going to stop anyway. Your indecipherable pleads for him to stop fell on deaf ears, and it seemed like he really was never going to stop until he was satisfied.

“Say it, Squeaky~ Say you're ticklish~” he teased, moving his fingers to that sweet spot right between your ribs and armpits.

“NOHOHO!!” you cackled, hugging yourself so tightly that you might as well be tying yourself up with your arms. You really wanted him to give you a breathing break, but the catch being that you had to SAY it? Out loud? To him of all people!?

“Say you're ticklish and I'll stop~” his voice cooed playfully to you, even with your eyes shut tightly you can still hear the grin in his words. His hand moved to your belly, and he scribbled his fingers all over your midsection, keeping his other hand poking your ribs.

“FIHINE I'M—” you whined through your laughter, trying force the word out through resistive lips. “I-I’m!! I- Hihi— I-I'm—!! @#&$!! I'm NOHOT saying ihihit!!"

“Oh well," he chuckled at your adorable reaction, humming in disappointment. "Looks like I'm not stopping any time soon, then, Squeaky~” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he could go all day with this.

“F-FIHINE I'm—" you giggled with a tiny voice, squealing as you felt both his hands scribble all around your belly and sides."Ihi'm ticklihish—!!"

Jax grinned at that, feeling quite victorious in doing his job properly. He pulled his hands away and sat up, resting them next to you.

You heaved a giant gulp of air, panting strongly from that entire episode. He was such an evil, evil ler. And way to jinx it, too.

“Say it again, but this time look at me,” he decided to add with a smug look, then wiggled his fingers again. “Or else…~”

You squeaked as he gave you a warning poke at your sides. No way he was really going to do all that again, right…?

You just stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place as you decided between enduring that again or actually having to say the t-word out loud. Both options sounded just as anxiety inducing as the other.

“Come on, Squeaky, we don't have all night~”

You yelped as you felt him poke you again, and quickly blurted the words out loud. “F-Fine I'm ticklish!! I-I am!!” you stammered, your voice high pitched and embarrassed.

Satisfied, Jax finally got off of you, stretching out his back, then poking your nose playfully.

“See ya around, Squeaky~” he chuckled with a wave, turning to walk away.

“Jax—"

His ears flicked curiously, and he looked back at you, hands in his pockets.

Your eyes flicked between his hidden hands and his eyes, but this time you caught yourself quickly before he could notice. Still panting a bit from the adrenaline rush, you managed to compose yourself enough to sit up and hug your pillow.

“...Please, don't tell anyone,” you pleaded with a small and timid voice, anxious at the idea of everyone knowing about this secret of yours. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with it, but it was way too vulnerable of a subject for just anyone to know about.

Jax raised his eyebrows with a smug smirk, he definitely noticed you looking at his hands. Part of him wanted to tell all your friends just to make you mad, but seeing your genuine expression made him reconsider. Making you feel unsafe was beyond his interest, and besides, having this just be between you two would make for some way more fun teasing.

Still, not wanting to give in so easily, he just gave you a vague answer and a shrug.

“Hmm... We'll see, Squeaky," he hummed, turning and walking out of your room, that ever smug expression on his face.

You saw his shadow disappear from your doorway. What did he even mean by that?? Was he going to tell them or no!?

You swallowed nervously, and got up to go and silently lock your door closed for the rest of the night, not wanting to face the others whilst being such a flustered mess.

Slumping back into your bed, you sighed heavily, trying your best to process what just happened. Your stomach flared up in butterflies as your mind played the past 10 minutes over and over in vivid detail.

Knowing Jax, there was absolutely no way he was going to let go of this so easily. And as much as you wanted to deny it for your own peace of mind, you knew he was going to tease you about this forever.

Still…

You curled up around your pillow, laying on your side and staring at the clock tick on the wall. As anxious as that thought made you, you still smiled a bit. And you couldn't help but feel a little excited at the same time.

Ugh… That stupid rabbit.

[mimisempai]

The smile that belongs only to you

Summary

While the angel and the demon are on a visit at Whickber Street, Nina points out something to Aziraphale. Something he'd never really realized, and it has to do with Crowley's smile.

Notes

Sorry but not sorry for the amount of sugar, I need it to counteract all that bitterness...

On Ao3

Rating G - 777 words

"When will our dear Mr. Grumpy be joining us, Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale and Crowley had left their cottage in the Southdowns to visit their friends on Wickber Street for a few days.

The angel put down his glass of sherry and replied to Nina, "In a few minutes. He's looking for a place to park the Bentley."

"Where? There's a free spot in front of the bookshop!"

"Too small, according to him."

"Oh, I see, Grumpy's afraid of scratching his old banger."

Maggie replied, "Honestly, that nickname hardly fits him anymore."

"You're right. The way he smiles, I should call him Dopey instead."

Muriel and Maggie giggled as Aziraphale looked at the three of them with a puzzled expression.

He asked, "What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Whenever you're in a room and he walks in, he smiles in a very peculiar way. I'm not talking about that mocking smile he puts on his lips like a well-fitting mask, no, I'm talking about a goofy, completely idiotic smile. Fleeting, yes, but really silly."

Aziraphale was about to reply that Crowley had smiles for him that weren't mocking, but he'd never noticed the one Nina was talking about. Seeing his puzzled expression, Muriel added, "He smiles like that when he thinks you're not looking at him."

Maggie interjected, "Oh look, he's just entered the pub, take a good look, you'll see!"

Aziraphale didn't turn to the door on his left, but watched Crowley's arrival out of the corner of his eye.

First he saw him looking for them, then the look on his face when he saw them, and finally he saw it, the moment Crowley laid eyes on him, the smile Nina was talking about.

He vaguely heard Nina murmur: "I told you so! It's tiring to be right all the time."

Then she added in an even lower voice, “Dopey...”

Only for Aziraphale, there was nothing silly or goofy about that smile. The only word she could think of to describe it was happy. Knowing that it was he, Aziraphale, who had brought that smile to Crowley's lips filled the angel with overflowing joy.

He couldn't help but turn his full attention to Crowley and watch the smile turn into something more teasing. Ready to have some fun. Aziraphale watched in amusement as the demon "bickered" with Nina once he was seated beside him.

He thought about it later that evening as he joined Crowley in the bedroom above the bookshop. He watched the demon before entering and saw that smile again. 

Of course, Aziraphale had always wanted to see the joy on Crowley's face again. The pure joy of the Starmaker. But this was different. Here he was the one making Crowley smile. He'd never really thought about it, but one thing was for sure: he liked the idea. Very much.

A special smile. Just for and because of him.

He slid under the covers, and Crowley opened his arm so that Aziraphale could rest his head on his shoulder.

After a few seconds of silence, the angel asked softly, "May I tell you something? I mean something very sappy."

Crowley took Aziraphale's hand, which was resting on his chest, and planted a kiss on the palm.

"Go on."

"I like the way you smile." 

He felt Crowley's lips curve against his palm.

"The way I smile?" Crowley placed a gentle kiss on Aziraphale's wrist and the angel felt the smile on his skin again.

"The way you smile because of me or for me. You don't know how you make me feel."

Crowley lowered his head to meet Aziraphale's eyes and another smile appeared on his lips, literally a smile of adoration. 

"Tell me."

"Well, seeing you smile is always a delight, obviously. But when I know it's because of me or for me, it takes my breath away." 

Aziraphale shook his head before adding, "Sorry, I don't know how else to put it."

He rested his head on the demon's shoulder and felt Crowley kiss him in the hair before the demon replied softly, “It's the same for me, you know. I've always loved to see you smile, just because of me, because of something I said, something stupid I did, no matter why. Just to know that I was the reason for your smile."

Aziraphale lifted his head to look at Crowley and they both smiled at each other in the same way.

Nina would have said they were smiling like two idiots in love, but that didn't matter to the angel and the demon.

For each of them knew that he was the reason for the other's smile.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[glossykissies]

i think this was like one of the first scott fics u posted but reader was in college for like fashion design? i think 😭 but anyways reader got a bad grade in one of her classes and scott says she cant touch him cos u cant reward bad behavior!!!

it’s funny because scott thinks he’s handling it the right way.

it’s how he was raised — it’s why he ended up in the working environment he did. his mother was a sweet woman, but his father was hard, never impressed, always pushing scott to achieve more. of course there were times he resented him for being so cold and unyielding, but he supposed he had him to thank for everything. now as a grown adult, scott saw himself in his old man, rearing his ugly head when least expected.

you’d come home to scott, all wired up and manic looking for a distraction. the project you thought you’d been slaving over ended up bringing you your worst grade yet. it wasn’t failable, and you knew you’d be able to pull yourself back — but it was certainly a wake up call. you felt ashamed.

you’d mentioned it in passing to scott as you were toeing your shoes off, thinking that if you treated it as a casual thing, it would be less damning. you were known to work hard, and you’d hate if scott thought any less of you. if there was anyone who’s opinion mattered to you over your professor, it was him.

“— and i’m gonna have to retake that class because i flopped so hard, anyway i had icecream for lunch—”

“hold on.” scott frowns, arms folded over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the wall, narrowing his eyes at you. “retake the class? explain.”

he makes note of the way you swallow and avoid his eyes as you gather up an excuse. “its fine, i failed the class. its fine.” you shrug a shoulder, and scott stares before shaking his head with a sigh.

“look — i told you, if you’re gonna be here all the time you can’t let it interfere with your projects. i think — i think it’s best if you start spending some weekends from home so you can get back on top of—”

“no!” you bark, eyes wide and desperate, which actually silences him in surprise. you are incredibly quick to adjust yourself, releasing a tense chuckle to let it be known that you were on your best behaviour, smile straining your cheeks and not quite meeting your eyes. “scott it’s not that serious, i swear. i’m passing all my other classes, this happens to everyone atleast once.” you figure your tone is reassuring enough, especially as he doesn’t follow you into the kitchen to make your daily green tea.

you spend a little longer than usual in the kitchen as you sip away at your drink, giving your boyfriend time to hopefully forget about the bad grade you received so you could potentially start the evening over, feeling things were a little chaotic. the hot liquid seems to soothe your nerves momentarily too, aiming to leave the day behind as you eventually slink out into the living room, eeking out your distraction as you join scott on the couch.

he’s watching some kind of documentary, naturally manspreading with that concentrated frown like a man much older than he was. you let a mischievous smile slip as you wriggle up to his side, stroking at his arm. this was nothing unusual from your usual behaviour, so scott doesn’t react — continuing on with his show.

“scotty.” you breathe in his ear, beginning to dot kisses gently along his jawline.

“hm?”

“missed you. needed daddy all day.” you pout as a manicured hand rises to rest on his broad chest before sliding slowly down his stomach toward his belt. you nearly jump out of your skin when he grabs your wrist and moves it away.

“no.” he hums, voice low. you blink your wide eyes at him in confusion — maybe you were just spoilt, because it wasn’t often you heard that word so firmly.

“huh?”

it’s only then scott looks at you, raising his eyebrows. “you think i’m gonna reward you for failing a class? you know, if i had been you — i’d already be at the desk with my laptop out, getting to work so i don’t fail my class again.” he’s stern, and whilst you’re used to his blunt ways you’re stunned by how cruel he was being. to him, he wanted the best for you and this was how he showed it in the moment, but to you it was the ultimate rejection.

it’s unnoticeable to the human eye, but he softens when you’re so quick to submit without argument despite his words, bashfully climbing off the couch to silently grab your bag and head to the bedroom where scott’s desk was. he watches you go, arms crossed — before he sighs, closing his eyes. that wasn’t him, it was his father. you didn’t deserve that.

he thinks up what to say to you, standing up to retrieve you approximately seven minutes later. he finds you at the desk where he suggested, laptop open on an empty document, crying quietly into your hands. scott closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath before starting towards you.

“hey. hey.” his voice is quiet as he scoops you off the chair, replacing you with himself as he cradles you on his lap. “c’mon.” he whispers, feeling you wrack with another silent sob into your hands.

“i’m sorry.” you squeak.

“you don’t have to be sorr—”

“you’re disappointed in me. i’m disappointed in me too i just wanted to forget for a few hours.” you cry like a baby, stripped down to your most vulnerable self and his jaw clenches, mad that he was the one to upset you like this. this relationship shit was harder than it looked.

“hey i’m not, okay? i’m not. i was… hard on you because i think you can be great. okay? i think you are great. most talented girl i know. i don’t wanna get in the way of that, you know?” his large hand slides up your back to pull you closer and he feels you nod.

“i know. i’m sorry i get so upset about stupid stuff. i tried to be a big girl about it. i tried to… start—” you pull away to gesture to the empty document and he breathes out a chuckle, pulling you back to his chest.

“i know. i see… and it’s not stupid. i was mean. you should have kicked my ass.” he shakes his head but hears you giggle against his shirt, likely staining it with tears and mascara.

“next time.” comes out muffled.

“great.” he sarks before pulling you back to mop up your face, trying not to grimace at any snot or drool as he swipes it away with his thumb. “look. get started on… all this tomorrow. i’ll help in any way i can. what do you need right now? hm?” he jogs you on his lap with his knee once to signify that he wants a verbal and decisive answer. you press your lips together, glancing down at his belt once more. “oh yeah?” he confirms in that deep voice that makes between your legs ooze. “still after that?”

you nod, and he squeezes you hip. “alright. i think i can provide.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

"Yeah, I'm just a little nervous about you being behind the wheel, Eddie," Robin said.

"Oh, I'm not going to drive her. I'm just starting this baby up," Eddie grinned. "Harrington's got her, don't ya, big boy?"

Eddie was already so close to him, his lips near his cheek. Steve frowned. God. Was Eddie flirting with him? This didn't seem very fair. Eddie gets accused of murder, gets thrown into all of this, and now Steve has to reject him because he didn't like boys. Although, he appreciated the attention and the way he had slammed him up against the wall. . .It also wasn't hard to notice the way Eddie looked at him when he took his shirt off. Poor guy. Steve turned his head and was about to open his mouth when Robin moved. She tripped, falling onto Steve’s back. In the process, it caused Steve to fall into Eddie, their lips bumping against each other's.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" Robin gasped.

"I guess I can cross that off my bucket list," Eddie said with a grin and winked at Steve.

Before anyone could say anything else, the owners of the RV tried to get in. Steve did it without thinking. They needed to switch spots and quickly, too. Steve patted him on his backside to get him out and rushed to replace him. He took off. The entire way to the War Zone, all Steve could think about was kissing Eddie. . .his hand brushing up against his backside just then. . .the hand pressed against the small of his back when they were walking in the Upside Down. . .the way he liked it when Eddie leaned in. He still tried to process it all when they got to the War Zone and even after in the clearing when he was making molotov cocktails with Robin.

"Hey. . .Robin, do you think maybe you can push me into Eddie again later?" Steve asked.

"What? Why?" Robin asked in disbelief.

"I need to test a theory," Steve said, his chest growing warm at the sight of Eddie with Dustin.

"What's the theory?" She asked.

"I like a boy," Steve said as he continued to gaze at Eddie.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed as she nearly dropped the molotov. "You like Eddie!"

Robin slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Steve grinned. He couldn't help it. . .her expression was so comical. He couldn't be mad at her. Judging by the way everyone's head had snapped in their direction, they heard Robin.

"I told you! I knew you would like him!" Dustin shrieked. "Didn't I say that Steve would like him, Lucas?"

"Yeah, man," Lucas said in amusement. "You called it."

Steve smiled and shook his head. Once again, Dustin was missing an important part of what had just happened.

"I just don't know why Robin was so surprised," Dustin said.

"I like you, too, big boy!" Eddie yelled, winking at him again, and Steve blushed.

Robin leaned closer to Steve, smirking as she lowered her voice.

"Theory proven. Steve Harrington likes a boy," Robin said.

"It seems like the worst possible time to realize this," Steve said.

"If not now, then when?" She asked, and then she squealed as she leaned against him. "Neither one of us is straight! This is great! Ooh, I rhymed."

"Settle down, Buckley," Steve said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You should do something about it," Robin whispered.

"I don't know," Steve said, glancing at Nancy. "There's still something there, too."

"We live on a gate to hell, Steve," Robin said. "I think it's okay to like both of them. Anything is possible."

"I think I'm going inside for a bit," Steve said.

"Okay, well, I'm here if you want to talk some more or freak out about it," Robin said.

Steve smiled at her, grateful to her before heading into the RV. He closed the door and sighed. It was all such a great distraction, but it was only momentarily. The pain was very much there. Steve shrugged out of his new jacket and camouflage shirt. He didn't have any time to change his bandages at the War Zone. He had to figure out how to change the bandages, but how could he possibly get the ones on his back and arms? Steve grabbed the first aid kid and started peeling Nancy's piece of torn shirt off of his stomach. Steve cried out in pain and wept harder at the wounds in his stomach. His flesh had been torn away and devoured. . .He could feel the road rash on his back and arms. It felt as though he had been kissed by fire. He tried to keep it all together, tried not to let anyone know how much pain he was in. . .the mission was too important. Steve collapsed on the floor and fell onto his knees. He tried to focus on what he was feeling emotionally. . .Eddie or Nancy? The door to the RV opened, and he jerked at the sound of their voices. . .Jesus, did they hear what he was thinking?

"Steve!" Eddie and Nancy yelled.

The door closed behind them as they rushed to his side.

"I was just trying to change my bandages," Steve groaned.

They quickly helped sit him up, and Nancy immediately started unraveling the bandages.

"Shit, these need to be cleaned," Eddie cursed.

"Oh, Steve, why didn't you tell us you were in this much pain?" Nancy asked.

"I didn't want to be a distraction," Steve said.

"You had no problem being a distraction when you ripped off your sweater, flashing Nancy and I your tits," Eddie grinned, and Nancy giggled.

"You know what I mean, asshole," Steve laughed. "I just - ,"

"You're not a burden. We know about this. You're important, and not just to the mission," Nancy said softly. "To all of us."

Steve smiled at her. Nancy and Eddie went to work cleaning his wounds.

"I'm just wondering how you expected to get the ones on your back? You would have had to twist yourself like a pretzel," Eddie said. "Mm, pretzels."

"Hey, I've got moves," Steve protested.

"He's a ninja," Nancy teased.

"Sounds like an inside joke," Eddie said.

"The first time he snuck into my room, he landed awkwardly, got up, and proudly declared himself a ninja," Nancy said.

"Sounds adorable," Eddie grinned, flashing his dimples as he looked softly at Steve.

"It really was," Nancy said fondly.

"So, letting me in on this, and letting me feel you up - ," Eddie said.

"You're bandaging my wounds," Steve said.

"Do I or do I not have my hands all over you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, then I guess that means Nancy's feeling me up," Steve said.

"I'm not going to lie, Steve," Nancy said seriously, and Eddie laughed.

"I guess that means we're friends now," Eddie said.

"No," Steve said quickly, and Eddie frowned. "I mean, yes. . .I like you, Eddie."

"I like you, too. What's the problem?" He asked.

"No, I like you," Steve said.

"Okay. . .you said like differently that time. What are you trying to imply here?" Eddie asked.

"I like-like you, Eddie," he said.

"Okay, so you really like me," he said. "So, why can't we be friends?"

"I'm romantically and sexually attracted to you," Steve replied with a loud sigh.

"What! But Nancy - ," Eddie said with wide eyes. "I thought - ,"

"Oh, no, I'm still very much in love with her," Steve said. "So, yeah, all very confusing. . .although, I guess not, really. I definitely have a type. . .nerds with big hair and big eyes that make you fall for them."

Nancy laughed.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I definitely think you were crushing on Tom Cruise just as much as I was," Nancy said.

"Shit, I think you're right. I've never been straight," Steve said, laughing.

"What? Did you think I turned you queer?" Eddie asked.

"Like magic," Steve said with a goofy grin.

Eddie and Nancy laughed as they finished wrapping up Steve. They helped him up off the floor before helping him back into his shirt and jacket.

"You're good to go, bug boy," Eddie said, his hand caressing Steve’s collar. "I mean, big boy - fuck, I meant, well, you know what I meant."

"I just want you to know that you don't have to do anything about this or feel like you have to. . .I just thought I should be honest. I was just completely honest with myself, and I wanted to do the same with you guys," Steve said. "You both have inspired me to be myself and realize what's important. Eddie, more recently, and Nancy, well, back then, she gave me the bump on the head that I needed to see what it truly means to be a friend. I mean, I know that I'm slow, but I learn. . .according to my mother, I used to crawl backwards, I went so far backward that I ended up falling down the stairs. Eventually, I do move forward. So, I'll be okay."

Eddie smiled sweetly at him, playing with the collar of Steve’s jacket. Nancy placed a hand on Steve’s arm, also smiling at him.

"So, in that dream of yours. . .," Nancy said.

"With his six little chicken nuggets," Eddie said in amusement.

"Were you serious about that?" Nancy asked.

"I meant every word," Steve said to Nancy. "Left out an important part, though. . .the most important part. . .you were there. . .you've always been there."

Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, leaning in close to him.

"I know that we've just started getting to know each other. . .," Eddie trailed off.

"There's room in the RV. . .hm, I could use some convincing, though," Steve smirked.

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him. Steve smiled against his lips as he returned the kiss, placing his hand against the small of Eddie's back. Eddie ran his tongue over the bottom of Steve’s lip, and Steve opened his mouth with a gasp, letting Eddie slip his tongue inside. Suddenly, Eddie pulled back.

"That's what you meant by convincing you. . .right?" Eddie asked and Steve laughed.

"Yeah, Eddie, that's what I meant," Steve said.

"I think I'm definitely going to need some convincing," Nancy said, her cheeks red.

"You are?" Eddie asked.

"Well, Steve wanted me in the RV first," Nancy smirked.

"Trying to make this into a competition, Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

"What if I am, Munson?" Nancy asked as she stared directly into his eyes.

Eddie grinned and pulled her flush against him. They each kept a hand on Steve while they held onto each other. Eddie pressed his lips to Nancy's, smirking into the kiss. Steve felt the warmth inside his stomach grow stronger at the sight of them. He should have been jealous, but there was no jealousy here, only longing for the both of them. Their hands clutched each of his shoulders tightly as Nancy deepened the kiss. Nancy and Eddie's hands slid into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve moaned softly as he felt them gently tug at it. Eddie pulled away with a gasp.

"Is that enough to convince you, or do you need more?" Eddie asked.

"I think we've both been convinced," Nancy laughed as she looked at Steve's face. "Haven't we?"

"Yeah, definitely," Steve said.

Nancy touched Steve’s face gently and kissed him. It was sweet and soft until Nancy pressed her lips further against his, eager to taste him again. God, how he missed her lips and the way she gently touched his face. He wanted to keep kissing her, but his head was starting to spin. He broke the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked.

"I feel a little dizzy," Steve said. "I think I need to sit down."

Nancy and Eddie guided him to the couch. Steve couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, so Eddie quickly found a can of Spaghetti-os and a bottle of water. It wasn't the best, but it made Steve feel better. Yeah, it wasn't a good idea to forget to eat after losing all that blood, Steve thought as he scooped food into his mouth.

"You feeling better?" Nancy asked after he finished and set the empty can aside.

"Definitely," Steve said.

"I should have gotten you some food. . .I didn't think about the blood loss," Nancy frowned.

"Hey, I didn't think about it either," Steve said. "Don't beat yourself up."

"Honestly, I thought you were getting dizzy because of us, and I felt cocky for a moment," Eddie smirked.

"Hm, well, maybe a little," Steve grinned.

Nancy ran her fingers through Steve’s hair, looking at him fondly.

"I almost lost you," Nancy said.

"Eddie said that you didn't hesitate at all to jump in after me," Steve said. "Said it was. . .an unambiguous sign of true love."

"Well, he was right about that," Nancy said with a smile as she continued to stroke his hair. "I couldn't lose you. I spent a lot of time letting other people get in my head. . .as much as I try to tell myself that I don't care what others think, I do. I spent a lot of time letting those voices convince me that I was going to end up in a nuclear loveless family. I was so afraid of that happening. . .that I let it happen. Our relationship was wonderful, and I loved every minute of it. . .the one thing that got in my way was myself and the fact that those assholes got away with killing Barb. When you got yanked underneath the water, when the bats came after, I just couldn't you go. . .I realized that it was always you, Steve. So, yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too," Steve said.

Nancy leaned forward and kissed him, tucking a hair behind his ear. She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against Steve’s.

"I am not quite there yet," Eddie said, grinning. "But I feel a great deal of affection for the both of you."

"There's no pressure, Eddie," Steve laughed.

"You know, I kind of like that you both are further along in this relationship than I am. It's almost like you two are the dungeon masters and I'm the player. . .," Eddie frowned. "I think I just turned myself on."

"I wouldn't even know how to be a dungeon master," Steve said.

"I'll show you," Nancy grinned. "It's not that different from leading a basketball team."

"You take that back, Wheeler," Eddie gasped.

"No!" Nancy laughed.

Eddie leaned back and crossed his arms, fake pouting. Steve and Nancy stared at him, watching the sun begin to sink down. . .a reminder for all of them that their mission to take down Vecna would soon begin. Eddie's face turned serious.

"You might be onto something. . .I kind of wish that I had gone to the game. Wish I had been more accommodating to Lucas, let him know that he wasn't turning to the dark side. . .it was a shitty thing to do. I think I was so afraid of forced conformity that I ended up feeling like Lucas had to choose one or the other when he didn't have to. As the leader of Hellfire, I was responsible for giving those kids a safe place for them to share their interests even if they didn't align with mine," Eddie said.

"Yeah, I think we were both afraid of forced conformity," Nancy said as she twirled a lock of Steve’s hair between her fingers.

"Hey, man, Lucas knows you didn't intend to be an asshole about it," Steve said. "He knows how protective you are of the game. As much as I tried to talk about it with him, Lucas just wanted the bullying to stop, and he still wanted to hang on to the game. You just don't know how much harder it is for him."

"Yeah," Eddie winced. "Jeff pointed that out as a possibility when I was complaining about it."

"He sees what kind of person Jason is now, though," Steve said. "And he also knows that he was wrong, too. . .which I think is something that you two really need to talk about."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed.

Steve could feel Nancy's eyes on both of them.

"Boys," she sighed happily.

"Aren't you glad Robin pushed me into Eddie's lips?" Steve asked.

"What?" She laughed.

"You didn't see that earlier? Eddie was getting the RV started up, and Robin tripped, causing my lips to meet with Eddie's," Steve said.

"Is that what made you realize you liked me?" Eddie asked, laughing.

"Yeah, I totally wanted to kiss you again," Steve said. "What made you realize that you liked me?"

"When you ripped off your shirt like a fucking stripper," Eddie said rolling his eyes. "You know you look good, asshole. It was the wrong fucking time to have a sexuality crisis and you gave it to me. Between you and Nancy. . .watching her swing that oar around like a sword. . .yeah, I definitely still liked women. So, thank you, you guys gave me a lot to panic about."

"You're welcome," Nancy and Steve said in amusement.

"The moment I realized I liked both of you, actually isn't that much different," Nancy said in amusement. "I both caught you with romance novels. . .of course, it was a long time ago with Steve and earlier this year with Eddie."

"Really?!" They asked, and they looked at each other. "You?!"

"I don't know why you're so surprised," Steve scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. "You heard about my dream. . .of course, I'm a romantic. I don't know why I'm surprised about you. . .cynical, my ass, of course you're a romantic. . .unambiguous sign of true love."

"I am never going to live that down," Eddie groaned and threw up his hands. "Okay! Jesus H Christ, I love love!"

"I think it's sweet," Nancy smiled. "Now, more than ever, we need to believe in love. Whether it's familial, romantic, or strictly platonic."

"Like me and Robin," Steve said with a goofy grin. "Platonic with a - "

" - capital p!" Nancy and Eddie exclaimed.

"Yes, we know," Nancy said. "It's strictly platonic with me and Robin, too. I definitely love her."

"Oh me, too!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, she's great," Steve grinned and then frowned. "But there's no one like me and Robin. . .I found her first."

"Of course," Nancy giggled.

Steve leaned back against the couch, smiling at the both of them. Eddie and Nancy were talking over him now, their hands over his knees. They were discussing the things to come, Vecna, and what had already happened. Steve listened to them both as Eddie talked about his guilt over Chrissy's death, his feelings, while Nancy did the same about her own guilt over Barb's death and how she had felt about Barb. Steve placed a hand over Nancy's and Eddie's back. They leaned into his touch, letting him know that they appreciated his silent reassurance. Whatever happened, they were going to get through it together.