#I like the backyard I’m never out here tho

[okcoolthanks]

Sittingon the ground outside‼️‼️‼️

[canthelpit0]

Heartless

Pairing: Chris x reader

Wordcount: 3k+

Summary: Chris used to drink back in high school. And now being rich and in his early 20s he started back up again.

Warnings: angst (if u squint), relapse, drinking, alcohol addiction, weed, mentioned drugs, slight use of y/n, Chris pov, (slight) unreliable narrator, model!reader, no smut, kissing

(A/N: possible ooc. I don’t do drugs, so I don’t know how realistic this is.)

Chris PoV

I feel dizzy.

But I love it, I love this.

I take another sip of my solo cup looking at all the people.

Back in high school I used to drink and smoke, and I even did some drugs at some point. But I had stopped after high school, after all, I thought that I could let loose and have fun, but that after high school that I’d start working.

Having been partying and drinking for my junior and senior year, staying sober for over two days was hard, but in the end I’d managed to stay sober for a whole year.

I wasn’t even the legal age to drink yet anyway.

I started smoking occasionally though, just to hold me off from alcohol.

Somehow we managed to become famous YouTubers, moving out to LA and living our dreams.

But being in LA meant getting invited to all sorts of parties. We usually just said no and that we wouldn’t go, mainly because of my past habits. But after a while our manager started to force us to, to make connections.

However being so close to alcohol, and being offered drinks and blunts all the time was fucking with me.

I started to smoke more, going from around one cigarette every two days to five a day.

It was a common fact that I’m a smoker in our fanbase. And I wasn’t proud of it. It is disgusting. But I would rather do that, before relapse back into my drinking habits. That’s at least what I told myself.

I started to unconsciously get colder towards Nick and Matt. I couldn’t help it.

So when an influencer texted me inviting me to some party, I agreed. I snuck out of the house at night, walked around the corner to the gas station, got an Uber and went to the party.

I put my phone on silent, turned off all trackers and snap map, as well as put it on airplane mode just to be sure.

But deep down I always knew that at the end of the day, if I do manage to get home without Matt’s help, I’ll still be drunk, they’ll know I relapsed.

But at this moment, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting drunk tonight.

This is the second drink I’ve had tonight. And I wasn’t even close to tipsy. Maybe I should play some drinking game?

I shrug to myself scanning the crowd of people. All people with faces that look like influencers. If that even makes sense. They just look like they do TikTok.

I shrug to myself. I glance over at the window to the backyard porch, seeing the backs of a few girls sitting there. I can’t see their faces and I don’t care to.

I look down at my drink, seeing the way it’s half empty now. I huff. Bringing the cup back to my lips again, I down the whole cup.

Jake and Johnnie come up to me. I make eye contact with Jake and purse my lips.

It’s a commonly known fact that I smoke tobacco, yes. But to everyone’s knowledge I don’t drink, and have never touched a drink In My life.

Well Matt and Nick haven’t, I never said I haven’t, but I wasn’t exactly open about my past with alcohol either.

Matt and Nick said they’ve never drank, wich is true. Yet I never agreed. I did say on that podcast that I do smoke.

“Yo Chris” Jake greets dapping me up. I give him a weak smile. “Hi guys” I respond with a slight smile.

I wish I didn’t know anyone here and could just get wasted in peace. I’d get wasted at home but I literally can’t buy alcohol

“I didn’t know you drink?” Johnnie asks taking a sip of a water bottle. I don’t know if they drink, all I know is that they’re old enough to. Unlike me.

“Well.” I shrug. I’m still standing in the kitchen so I just put down my empty solo cup for the time being.

“Aren’t you underage tho?” Jake asks raising an eyebrow down at me. He shifts on his feet. He wouldn’t stop me per se, he’d just quietly disapprove.

“Yeah” I shrug. I lick my lips glancing at the half empty beer bottle on the counter. I purse my lips contemplating if I should pour my solo cup full again.

Because on one hand I want to make it seem like this is the first time I’m drinking and that I’m innocent, but then again the temptation is too strong, and before I realize it I’m pouring my cup full again.

Both the boys in front of me were saying something about not drinking too much, but I wasn’t even paying it attention.

“-Just don’t drink too much, right, you can get drunk really fast.” Jake rambles on a smile present on his lips like he thought this was an innocent joke. Not like I just relapsed or anything.

I take a sip from the beer, feeling it burn down my throat. I don’t even make a face at it, if anything I relax more when the taste hits my tongue.

“You handle your alcohol well, wow.” Jake says half joking, having finally stopped his rant.

“Anyway, where are Nick and Matt?” Johnnie asks cutting Jake off before he can start yapping again.

“Home.” I mumble taking another sip.

“Oh why’s that?” He asks back his words questioning as he tilts his head slightly.

His eyes look really dark with the dark eyeliner he’s wearing, in the dimmed room.

“They just didn’t want to come.” I shrug. I feel like I’m being too direct and rude.

It’s funny. Whenever I’m sober, I act more cheery and extroverted. But I don’t feel good. When I’m drunk or drinking it’s the opposite.

“Huh?” Jake huffs questioningly. “Well this is the first time you’re drinking right? Were you planning to, or how did that happen?”

I think he thought that maybe some person gave a drink to me and that’s how I started drinking tonight. Because god forbid I wanted to get drunk and was planning on drinking here because shady parties like this are the only places I can get my hands on alcohol.

“No,” I pause making eye contact with both of them, before my eyes meet the beer in my cup again.

“It’s not.” I shrug.

They glance at each other before looking back at me and I feel their eyes burn through my skin.

“Well, drink responsibly.” Jake says again slowly. He wasn’t going to stop me. They were all for ‘you do you’. And besides it’s not that bad anyway it’s not like I’m alcoholic or something. “And don’t drive.” He chuckled jokingly, winking.

I let a slight smile take over my face. I close my eyes and shake my head slightly, letting out a dry chuckle.

Johnnie waves back at me as they start to walk off into the crowd of people in the living room.

Time flies.

I drink some more, wander around and what not.

I’ve taken a bunch of drugs before. Asides from the obvious like coffee, cigarettes and alcohol, I also used to smoke a lot of weed. I’ve done lsd, cocaine, ecstasy. A lot of ecstasy. And Xanax.

Well I took Xanax kind of on accident in sophomore year. Matt has anxiety, and it used to be really bad so he had prescribed pills to take. And one day I thought they were pain killers and took them.

It made me feel very euphoric but calm and relaxed at the same time. That was the first big deal drug I ever took.

I was never interested in not being sober. But when junior year hit, and I started to go to parties, I tried verity’s kinds of drugs because if the high Xanax put me on was great, how would stronger drugs be.

Tho at the end of the day I did that way less than just drinking.

I look around getting bored of just standing around. I walk out to the backyard porch to get some air. There is a couch in the corner on both sides.

What’s wired about these types of parties is that there are not just influences or that type of people here, but also low ranking celebrities.

Like actors and actresses with low status, up in coming singers, low ranking models and what not.

There is a girl all alone on the couch to my right. I glance at her, scanning her features. Our eyes meet. I’m not as drunk as I was planning to be, but the night is still young so whatever.

She looks like she could be a model. But for all I know she could be a really pretty YouTuber too.

She takes the blunt from between her lips breathing out a puff of the toxic smoke. She was smiling, the weed rolled into a perfect blunt.

“Hi?” She asks. Have I been staring? I purse my lips staring back at her. I kind of forget to respond before I see her raise an eyebrow at me.

“Hey.” I respond simply shifting on my feet to turn to face her. She nods to the couch next to her and I take the hint and sit down next to her.

I take a deep breath in, closing my eyes slightly. The cold LA air feels so good against my burning hot skin.

“You smoke?” She asks offeringthe blunt to me.

I lick my lips slightly. She seems pretty faded, she must’ve been smoking for a while here now.

I look over her features,my eyes taking in every detail.

I him in response, watching the way she holds out the blunt for me. I take it and put it between my lips. As soon as I feel the weed fill up my lungs I can feel my body relax.

I slump back into the couch giving her the blunt back while I breathe out the smoke.

“What’s your name?” She asks putting the blunt back between her lips and smoking it.

“Chris.” I say simply. She hands me the blunt once again. And oh, I didn’t realize we’d be sharing now, but oh well.

“You look like a YouTuber.” She says bluntly, tilting her head at me.

We get that a lot, we look like ‘generic tiktokers’.

I shrug. I turn my face to the side and blow out the smoke before looking back at her and offering her the blunt again. “Maybe because I am?”

She chuckles dryly and takes the blunt. She puts it between her plump pink lips. “I’m y/n” she mumbles around the weed before inhaling again. I watch the way she holds the blunt between her pointer and middle finger.

The way her hands look so delicate. The way her acrylic nails look.

“And what do you do for a living?” I ask rhetorically. A slight grin threatens to spread on my face.

“I model.”

“Never thought models smoke?”

“Well I do.”

She offers me the blunt again.

We talk for even longer. We both seem to be blunt and direct people. there was no messing around and beating around the bush.

After a while silence falls upon us again. This is the second blunt we’d lit by this point. She leans over and puts that blunt out on the ashtray on the couch table.

“You’re pretty you know that.” I blurt out. She sits back raising an eyebrow. Her body is turned to me and she just looks so pretty. If I could have my way and we weren’t at some LA house party right now, I’d eat her out right here on the backyard porch.

“Thank you?” She chuckles. And god how good she sounds.

Her words sound like silk. They flow so well together and her voice 100% fits her face.

While we were talking she said she’s from New York. Wich is great. I love meeting east coast people. There are not a lot in California.

She’s apparently from manhattan. I’d been there before.

She turns to me more and tilts her head teasingly. I lean in my eyes staying locked on hers.

I can’t help the huge grin growing on my face.

“Yeah” I breathe out. By now we’re so painfully close. I put my hand on her jaw holding her in place. I can’t help it when I glance down at her lips for a second.

She does the same tho and looks down at my lips.

So why would I draw out this moment any longer? I crash my lips on hers and feel her immediately react and kiss back.

The kiss is gentle but hard at the same time.

By this point I can barely feel the alcohol in my system, only the weed. And with us kissing that’s all I’m focused on. I can’t think straight, and not because I’m cross faded.

My eyes are shut trying to feel this as much as I can. This feels like a high. Whether that be because I am actually high, or if kissing her just naturally feels good.

I tilt my head slightly in an effort to deepen the kiss, feeling the way her arms wrap around my neck and pull me closer.

My hands go to her waist holding onto her.

But suddenly, before things can escalate, I feel my phone ring.

I pull away slightly our faces still close. I groan in Annoyance. I lick my swollen lips glancing back down at y/n’s that are also plump and kiss swollen.

I pull out my phone from my back pocked seeing Matt’s caller ID.

I purse my lips and hang up the call. I crash my lips back onto y/n’s. She sighs into the kiss and kisses back just as intensely.

But my phone goes off again. We ignore it just continuing to make out.

That is until she pulls away and licks her lips. Our eyes lock again, silence falling upon us, until she breaks it.

“Whoever is calling you really wants to talk.” I purse my lips looking at my phone on the couch between us.

I pick it up with a sigh. I sit back and turn back forward. I pick up the call and it’s Nick.

“Christopher Owen.” I hear nicks pissed off firm voice through the other line.

“Turn your location on right the fuck now.”

I sigh. I take the phone from my face turning off airplane mode and turning my location back on. After I do that I put the phone back to my ear.

“We’ll be there in 5” I hear Matt say loudly. He sounds mildly pissed off too.

“Whatever.” I groan dramatically. Why do they always have to hold me off from having fun.

I was just drinking a little bit. Like I didn’t even get drunk yet.

“Go to the front door, we’re almost there.” Nick says firmly to wich I reluctantly hum an argument.

I hang up the phone after it’s silent. I roll my eyes. I let my hand drop from my face to my lap, still holding my phone. I look over at y/n who is looking at me with a curious expression, but she wasn’t going to push it.

“I gotta go.” I say simply and get up.

I don’t glance back before i open the door inside again. I walk through the crowd of people pushing my way to the front door.

★ ★ ★

I sit at the front porch steps waiting for Matt to pull up.

When he pulls up mere seconds later Nick gets out of the passenger seat walking over to me. He looks more worried than angry.

I reluctantly get up. Nick keeps holding my arm just in case, but I really wasn’t that drunk. Sure I was not walking too straight, but it wasn’t like I was at risk of falling over.

He sits me down in the passenger seat Matt watching.

Nick himself gets into the backseat.

No word is said. Matt pulls into drive and starts to drive down the road. I close my eyes awaiting the eventual questioning and rants and whatever.

“Why’d you relapse?” Matt ask, simply getting straight to the point. Ripping the band aid right off.

“Sorry” I mumble. I open my eyes and turn my head to stare out of the window.

No song is playing, it’s just eerily quiet.

“No. Why did you relapse?” Nick asks his tone more firm. “Yeah you were doing so good” Matt adds with a sigh.

I let out my own sigh at the questions.

I don’t know why I relapsed.

It’s just something about LA that is so tempting. Partying is fun, and so is being drunk.

I’m pretty sure Jake and Johnnie must’ve told them. Somehow. After all, at this party, they were the only ones I actually knew. They must’ve texted or called one of them for some reason, resulting in waking them up.

And as soon as they were awake and checked my bed, they started to call me. Makes sense, whatever.

“Chris, you know, you need to talk.” Nick sighs frustrated.

“Why did you relapse?” Matt asks again glancing over at me for a second before going right back to staring at the road. “Is it the temptations of LA, is it your mental health,” he lists off the top of his head before sighing again. “What is it?”

“Chris we need you to tell us the root cause of this.” Nick says firmly. Honestly i should play drunk and pretend I don’t understand what they want from me, but I think they can tell I’m not legit drunk, just because of the fact that they’ve seen me actually blackout drunk before.

“I don’t know.” I say simply my tone staying low. It feels like my words cut straight through the thick tension in the room.

It’s like a re-opened wound.

“What do you mean you don’t know.” Nick scoffs. He was getting worked up, and I know that. I close my eyes for a second bracing myself.

“We thought you were better.”

We- it wasn’t just Nick that thought I got better, but also Matt, mom, dad and Justin.

“I did too.”

Masterlist

A/N: I hope you guys liked this.. I hope it’s realistic enough. But yeah, this was fun to write, tho I do know that it did kind of drift from the actual theme of the song. Tell me if u guys want a part 2 and my asks and requests are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo

[seungkw1]

one last chance — bsk [PREVIEW]

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au ♡ preview wc: 0.6k ♡ warnings: none for the preview, smut in the full fic ♡ a/n: hey, i’m back 👀 sorry for disappearing for so long my mental health was Not Good! excited to get back to writing tho <3 posting this lil preview as motivation to finish this fic!!

[ full fic is posted! ]

“SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!...”

In an instant nearly everybody leaps out of the hot tub, whooping and cheering as they follow the drunken chanting into the house. 

Everybody but Seungkwan. 

He fixes his eyes on you - his eyelids slightly heavy from numerous beers, his red-tinted cheeks illuminated in the dim glow of the backyard string lights, his lips seemingly extra plush, soft, kissable… 

He has never looked more stunning than he does right now. 

A lazy smile spreads across his face. “No shots for you, then?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I'm okay.”

“Me too.”

A few moments of silence pass. He gazes at you as if he has something he wants to say, but he hesitates. Despite the lack of conversation, it feels… comfortable. Like you could sit in silence all night with him and not get bored - his presence is more than enough. 

“Can I ask you a dumb question?” he finally asks, the look on his face slightly sheepish. 

“Sure,” you respond, working overtime to maintain your calm exterior despite your heart rate rising. “Though - I'm sure it's not dumb,” you add affirmatively.  

He reclines, lifting his elbows and placing his arms casually along the edge of the hot tub. He looks up at the moonlit night sky, as if reminiscing. 

“Do you remember when we kissed that one time?”

You feel as if you've suddenly been electrocuted. You don't know what you expected him to ask, but it certainly wasn't that. 

He continues. “It was at the very beginning of college - before classes had even started. At a house party. We were both drunk, you probably don't even remember-”

“No I remember,” you blurt out. He turns his head to you again, a look of genuine surprise upon his face. 

“You do?” he responds, momentarily forgetting to contain his elation. 

“Of course,” you reply with a nod. 

“You must have a really good memory, then,” he says nonchalantly - but you can tell he hopes there's something more to it. 

“Not really,” you admit. His eyes remain locked on yours. He turns slightly, facing you. 

“I've thought about it often over the years. Thought about you.” 

Your stomach drops. 

He drifts a bit closer through the softly bubbling water, his eyes locked on you. “Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I’d ever had the courage to ask you out.”

You stare back at him, too stunned to respond. His lips curl into a smile. 

“What's that look for?” he asks. His big brown eyes are practically sparkling.

“I…” you start, but your mind goes blank. You're still trying to process his words. 

“I had no idea you felt that way,” you eventually manage to say. “Honestly, I didn't even know if you remembered who I was.”

“You're kinda hard to forget.”

“Oh,” is what manages to come out of your mouth. You feel dizzy.

“What do you mean, courage?” you ask him. 

“Hm? Oh, I mean you’re just so… out of my league.”

You let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. It’s Seungkwan’s turn to look confused. 

“It's true!” he proclaims. 

You gawk back at him. He laughs. 

“You look flabbergasted.”

“I am flabbergasted,” you concur. “You're the one who's way out of my league!”

He shakes his head. “You're crazy. But that's why I like you.” He drifts toward you even further, fully sitting beside you now. His shoulder brushes against yours. A rush of adrenaline pulses through your body. 

“That,” he continues, “and the fact that you're one of the smartest people I know. And kind. And funny. And…”

Gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up toward his. 

“So beautiful.”

—

read the full fic here

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is. 

[shadfanfic]

You shouldn’t have done it papa! 

 Daddy! stucky x little! Reader

Summary: you trusted them but they betrayed you

Warnings:fluff!! At first and the end, mention of needless, mention of reader have to get some stitches, crying, yelling, cursing, reader has Trypanophobia but no one knew, didn’t edit it

—

Sorry! It got short but I really like it! Hope u like it too! 🤍

——————

“that was a good meal huh?” Steve smiled down at you making you nod with big smile,  he start wiping your mouth and cheeks with a wet cloth making you throw your head back

 “Mm p-..papa nu more!" You tried to wiggle away 

“Okay here I’m done” steve said and pick you up and rub your back lovingly 

“Mm where’s daddy?” You put your head over steve shoulder and whisper steve lean so close to your ears and whisper knowing it tickles you when he whisper way too close to your ears

“in his morning run” steve whispered and start nibbling your ears and neck making you laugh super loudly “P-..PAPA!  AH

AHAHAHA-..” you closed your eyes shut and start squirming allot trying so hard to get out of his grip 

“woah woah why you screaming ?” Bucky came to the kitchen panting a bit with a smile on his face, he grabbed a cup start fulling it with water 

“i think winter is arriving and someone is not allowed to walk barefoot anymore” bucky said and you immediately put your head up 

“hey-.. no socks” you said with flushed cheeks cause you laughed allot 

“no talking back trouble” bucky raised eyebrows and squished both of y/n cheeks with one hand and kisses her nose 

“Mm please?” You gave bucky the biggest puppy eyes and he just smiled “then no walking if there’s no socks on these two feets” he smiled bigger when you nod excited that you well not walk!! Only be so close to your daddies in their lap all the time!.. 

After some hours you really regret making a deal with your daddy, it was too much .. the three of you couldn’t play hide and seek It was so boring, 

“stay here y/n! I’m getting us something to drink” bucky said and kissed your cheek hard too annoy u then got up

“Don’t wipe my kisses away” bucky warned playfully and walked away 

“daddy..” you said quietly and giggle when he looked at you “y/n?” He giggled too at your adorable giggles then you wipe his kiss and immediately got up and start running away giggling hard 

“OH YOUR IN A BIG TROUBLE! RUN FASTER” bucky acted angry and start chasing you making you giggle more “oh noho!!” you run faster for the backyard door 

“no! Sweetie!!-.. NOT THE-…!! “ steve wanted to yell but it was too late cause ur yelling took over his

“AHH!!-.. PAPA !!” You start yelling loudly and crying in pain you stepped into something sharp.

“Oh fuck!” Bucky picked you up in bridal style and hold you tightly while walking inside completely ignoring the fact that your bleeding foot is messing the floor 

“it’s inside!? How big it is?” Bucky panicked and steve just sighed shakingly and open his phone too call bruce

“Let’s go buck!” Steve said opening the door for bucky and immediately follow 

“i-..it hurts!! P-..please make it stop!” You were yelling uncontrollably making bucky hold your tighter 

“I know baby i know” bucky said with tears in his eyes cause of your crys 

since they started to be your caregivers they have never see like this, crying with so much panic and pain steve opened Bruce door without even knocking it only to find Bruce more than ready walking towards you three 

“What happened?” Bruce gently picked you up from bucky even tho you tried to fight but couldn’t cause you got dizzy all of the sudden 

“n-..no!” You hit Bruce weakly then

“Shh you gonna be okay” Bruce answered and walked with you in his arms to a bed and that’s when you start to panic

“m-..papa?…papa please i.. i wanna go” you put your hands up too your daddy and he just sighed feeling sad and worried why you were reacting like that?

“We have to wait here sweet girl” he rubbed your stomach trying to calm your sobs “d-..daddy?” You call and bucky immediately showed up “hey there beautiful” bucky smiled sadly at you “daddy p-..pick me up please I promise I’m not gonna walk but please! I wanna go! No needless please” you begged noticing Bruce get close to your feet “don’t touch me!” You looked at Bruce in his eyes really scared 

“Bruce is trying to help you” bucky rub your shoulder and you only looked up at them with teary eyes “J-..just no needles please” you said quietly and tear up more when you feel them hold you down, bucky and steve held you tightly back in the bed “sweetheart i need you to relax okay? I well give you a big reward if you lis-…” Bruce was talking but you immediately cut him off with your loud screams making everyone in shock 

“Bruce! Hurry the fuck up!” Bucky yelled so Bruce can hear him “okay okay..” Bruce started and you felt every single thing while you couldn’t move only screaming scared 

“Please!! LISTEN!-..*sob* I DONT WANNA!” You panicked and start yelling more as loud as you can 

—

“Trypanophobia?…” bucky asked shocked and bruce sighed 

“how didn’t we notice?” Steve facepalmed himself and walk too the room you were in but you immediately sat up 

“No!!” You yelled at him and throw a pillow but it barely touched steve and he leaned down to pick it up 

“Leave..nu papa is mean.”you said before another sob came out since you couldn’t control it long time ago

“Let’s talk please?” Steve walked trying to get closer but you just crawled back hitting the wall behind you and it immediately made you tear up 

“sweetie you hurted your head?” He talked quietly and walk closer and open his arms you just stayed where you are crying silently flustered with how your day is going 

“shh it’s all good” steve picked you up from under your arms and hug u tightly, you immediately warp your legs around his waist and hugged him tightly 

“W-..why p..papa why d..did you m-..make him d..do it w-..why” you talked really upset and looked at him 

He rubbed your back feeling so bad and hold you tight “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean too upset you okay? But if we didn’t help you know it might have been wayyy worse puppa, i know you were scared and i know you hate needles but we had to do something about it as fast as possible” steve wiped your tears and removed your hair from your face and you listened quietly 

“how about we go get ice cream? While i give you a back ride all the time? Huh? How does that sounds?” Steve smiled at your little shy smile and you just shock your head no “I’m sorry did she just refuse an ice cream?” Bucky came out from nowhere, his eyes were red and nose too he was clearly not liking the fact that you had to face your phobia like that “daddy?” You asked and tilted your head confused why he looks so sad “I’m sorry baby i really am” he rubbed your cheek with a sad smile “daddy i not mad” you bottom lip start shaking when you realise he was crying because of you “oh doll face no more crying everything is okay” bucky took you from steve and hugged you tightly rocking you side to side gently while hushing you 

“Shh relax baby it’s all good now, you cried allot today you must be tired” daddy said and hugged you tightly making your whole body relax and you closed your eyes relaxing more as he continues to rock you until you slept deeply with comfort in your daddy’s arms 

“she slept?” Steve said and smiled down at you “we are so lucky to have such a perfect baby” bucky smiled and kisses your forehead long 

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey charm, is it true that once you get everything in your life , you'll stop appreciating things in general, cuz you have easy access to it?

I'm not sure if I'm wording this right.pls bear with me, english is my second language.

I was questioning myself trying to understand why it's taking me so long to tap into void ,and this fear popped up.

What I want from void is to be a master manifestor ,being able to summon things out of nowhere. And once I achieve this,will I stop being grateful for things ? What if I turn into this egotistical maniac? This sounds absolutely irrational now that I'm typing it out.

Here is my thought process : the only reason I appreciate having money is because I know what it's like to be poor. The only reason I appreciate having parents who loves me unconditionally is because I know what it's like to live with abusive parents. Etc etc .so once I have everything that I want, will I stop appreciating life ? Will I lose interest in myself ?

I guess I'm over complicating things now. Idk.

Did it change the way you approach life once you entered void and got what you want ? If so how ? If other annons who entered void could answer this, that would be great too.

I absolutely love this question! It's something that I've thought about a lot, and to be honest, I believe that the law is an extension of your personality. It's all about your mindset and your approach to life. If you're kind and generous when you're struggling, you're going to be even more giving when you have wealth and abundance. On the other hand, if you're selfish and greedy when you're poor, you're likely to continue that behavior even if your financial situation changes.

I think it's important to remember that everyone is different, and we all have our own journeys to follow. Even if you compare yourself to people who have always had money and privilege, that doesn't mean that they are inherently happier or more fulfilled than you are. I now can find an abundance of joy in simple things like feeding the animals in my backyard (I recently domesticated a squirrel and crow I’m an animal whisperer) or enjoying a cheap meal from my favorite restaurant. I didn’t have the privilege to enjoy the beauty of nature and little things when I was stressed and poor and riddened with anxiety tbh, but it’s always been there??? Nothing has changed I just have the ability to see it now. I love me a channel purse, but a lot of the things that make happy are free and always have been. I’m still a material girl regardless tho 💅💅

For me, the law has helped me appreciate the little things in life so much more. Before I discovered it, I was always searching for more and never felt satisfied with what I had. But now, I'm grateful for everything in my life, both big and small. I take things less seriously and just focus on being a kind and genuine person. I truly believe that if you put out positive energy into the world, it’s going to be a reflection of your inner heart regardless of whatever.

So don't worry about becoming someone like Elon musk or losing sight of who you are. The law is simply a tool to help you become the best version of yourself. And thinking about this already should be a reminder that you have a great head on your shoulder. Keep growing, keep learning, and keep being true to who you are. That's what really matters in life.

[zukkacore]

you reblogged that director's cut ask meme and i KNEW exactly already the scene. towards the end where it starts with:

"Disappointment. “Look. Whatever fantasy you’re trying to cling to, I don’t want any part of it. If you need anything, get another me to do it for all I care. I’m just—done playing house, Porter.” to "How ridiculous."

OR anything about the pomegranate tree which. i put my phone down to stare at the ceiling when the pomegranate tree was mentioned.

HIiiii!!!!! Thank you so much for sending me this honestly you picked a good one.

Ok. this scene is crazy bc i think it was the flashback scene that felt the most necessary to include. Not the one i fought the hardest for (jace good/bad teacher you have my heart ended up making sense but for a long time i was like cut that shit. You know you just want to be indulgent. Until i realized the ratgrinders haunt the narrative). Nor the one that feels the most. Obvious I guess? Or the most evocative? (The one where they're at Porter's house feels like so vivid and real to me not like necessarily bc of my writing its just like real in my mind like if Jace is reading Porter's memories there's definitely something in there that is just Precious and Heartbreaking and Deeply Ironic and almost simplistically affectionate in its portrayal of the Old Jace.

Anyway. This scene in the backyard felt. Necessary I guess? But i also worried i was trying too hard to make it work. It actually wasn't even really originally about Frosty Fair. Like. Jace still was walking out bc of a fight abt the ratgrinders but it was more abstract? I think the fact that its like ruben was getting attacked by grix is a throughline though for jace taking damage for TRGs in the forest. The ratgrinders were not originally going to be this like chekovs gun and like i honestly felt kinda bad that i was like. hm. awfully convenient for Jace to forget abt them so quickly in favor of getting. some dick but also like that's the whole POINT. I was like. Well i can at least highlight how absurd that is by making him ashamed but not really altruistic enough to do anything about it. But its like. Kinda the throughline now.

Originally I was like. Honestly rly embarrassed bc i felt like Jace taking damage in the forest was such a contrived way to get him and Porter to hook up like oooooh patching up injuries how original. But I feel like. There's a whole subplot kinda ABOUT jace taking the damage now. Now the whole story is about how he cares.

And post-Jace HATES that that's the reason Porter brought him on b/c he's so alienated from that version of himself, and he's disgusted with himself for feeling like he's never doing enough or caring enough. For being neglectful and running away. So when Porter grabs his wrist in the memory,

“I don’t think so, Stardiamond. You want this to work. You care, you always have. I know that’s who you still are.”

it's like. He's not seeing Jace for who he is. He's still clinging to the past. But also don't think he's completely wrong. Because jace does take that damage in the forest. He always had that capacity to care in him.

Anyway. I'll backtrack to the. Top of the scene tho.

Disappointment. “Look. Whatever fantasy you’re trying to cling to, I don’t want any part of it. If you need anything, get another me to do it for all I care. I’m just—done playing house, Porter.

Ok so this comes right after the whole. Jace wants Porter to acknowledge what he means to him. & Porter only mentioning his utility to The Plan. So. In my Mind the fantasy that Porter clings to about Jace and the fantasy Porter clings to about the house of sunstone heir of the cliffbreakers thing is made of the same stuff. It's all a glorious past that has been lostt to him. It's all something he's desperately trying to cling to.

There's also the fact that Jace says "I'm done playing house, Porter" (which i know is epilogue coded what can i say we get metatextual up in here). But. To me that's about. This idea of family. Porter feels he's been denied something of his lineage. In his mind he's doing this for his family as well as himself. I really wanted there to be something in there about Jace basically saying like. Why do you need to do this for your family. I'm your family. But it felt too on the nose and maybe not true to the character. B/c like. What family? The whole Jaceporter and the ratgrinders make up like a shitty fucked up fall of the house of usher type family is so real to me. But the thing is. That's a fantasy. Most of the ratgrinders are shatterstarred. Porter is clinging to something that doesn't exist.

And he says "if you need anything, get another me to do it for all I care." which. I think I needed to justify something within the text... But besides that. "get another me to do it" is so like. I think there's two things in there. 1) Jace is talking about his own replaceable nature within the plan. Calling attention to the fact that Porter actually COULD replace him, he just doesnt want to because he wants it to be jace. He just won't say that he'll say i need you you're so important blah blah. 2) obviously that's a bit of a jaceclone reference. He's saying literally another me, and long as I personally get that distance from you idc.

already talked abt the you care line so I'm gonna skip past it.

Another swing of Bigby’s Hand. This time, it’s a miss, and it dissipates—too rattled to concentrate. Jace seethes. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, or about who your Jace was. I’m —”

Ok. So like. I've talked about this a little bit, but I actually I do have a soft spot for the guardians of the galaxy 3 i actually think its pretty good and i don't like peter and gamora really but i think gotg3 uses them in very interesting ways b/c Quill keeps trying to insist that this gamora (a gamora from another time who never experienced the movies) should live up to the gamora from his memories. The line i actually really like is "What are you so afraid of within yourself that you need me to be something for you" which AAAAGGGGHHHH i feel sick about is very jaceporter to me. (The other scene that is very them is gamora saying “you know. I’m still not who you want me to be” and him going “yeah but who you are ain’t so bad” “I bet we were fun” “like you wouldn’t believe.” PORTER YEARNS FOR OLD JACE BUT ALSO ?? DID OLD JACE LOVE HIM TO THE POINT OF INVENTION?)

I don't think Porter would ever refer to the old jace as His Jace but I definitely think this jace conceives of it that way. & this is even more fucked bc PORTER put him here. That shit just happened to Gamora. PORTER is the one that wanted to actualize and use Jace but also misses who he used to be. And porter isn't wrong that this jace has the capacity to be as "good" at the old jace, but he's definitely not willing to acknowledge the harm he's caused or the pain this jace is in. I almost ended the exchange with "I'm Jace" but i felt like that also would be too on the nose. The fact that the name Jace is inherently a little bit silly does take a bit of the bite away. Sorry bestie beloved but its true ur name is ridiculous.

I think so much of this fic is Jace reconciling that he wants to be loved but he doesn't know in which way. Like. On the one hand he's saying please love as I am—as a person who has undergone irreconcilable trauma, different and the same. On the other hand he's saying please love me as I am— as the doggish, devoted frankenstein's creation that can't help but love his creator. And I think there's a little bit of both here. A little bit of Why are you asking for the old jace when i am what i am, the person you made, someone else, and i'm RIGHT HERE. And its a little bit of Why are you asking for the old jace expecting me to be something i no longer recognize, can you at least acknowledge that this trauma has changed me, that i feel different, that i feel as if i can never go back. But maybe those are the same thing

I also want a brief sec to talk abt that bigby's hand. I just wanted something that would leave a large impact i think? Like. this is such a WEIRD pull but i was watching that dirty laundry w/ brennan in which he talks abt getting in a car crash where the car trenches a hole in the grass and stops just shy of a woodchuck hole and he starts laughing in shock. I thought abt that a lot in the scene with the Motivational Poster bc of the laughing of shock but i also liked that imagery i guess of trenching a crater.

Pain, as the rage crystals and untamable arcana course through his veins—he can feel it in the present, too—and then the Jace in the memory surges so bad that he passes out on the lawn, but not before frying the nearby pomegranate tree to a crisp with a jolt of lightning. Jace turns away from that one as if flinching from a raised hand. Despite everything, he wishes most of all to apologize about the tree. He could laugh. How ridiculous.

Im playing a little loose with sorcery stuff but aint that the sorcery way i guess. Anyway I like in other fic when Jace has a hard time controlling his sorcery due to being shatterstarred as a way of being like yeah he's discordant with himself. Its sooooo good. I think the rage here is a little bit his and Porters. I don't know if thats how it works in the text but i made the call that jace's rage can also incite the crystal to act up.

OK SO lastly. THANK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THE POMEGRANIT TREE JUST BC ITS FUN even tho its literally is like. Yeah I love Hadestown and Jaceporter are soooooo persephades / orphydice coded. I liked the imagery of his surge being so bad that it kills the something dear to Porter in the garden, and I was like. Frying a tree sounds cool. And I was like. Well if its gonna be a fruit tree of COURSE it can't be any old tree it has to be a pomegranite tree. OF COURSE. And it's not stated but i do think it kinda was the centerpiece of that garden. And of course like. A pomegranate on its own already means a lot. In terms of like. Death n rebirth Persephades and this idea of the cycles of the seasons and leaving n returning and the overlap with this idea of like, corruption and a Fall from grace

Also a shoutout to my ability to neglect real world facts. "Lily, white, and Poppy red. I trembled as he laid me out. " Yeah, Porter decimated the poppies in the fight. They're completely out of season but we can play pretend.

I do think him wanting to apologize for the tree is like. Such a funny moment. I think after i wrote what happened to the tree i felt bad for said tree. There is something really sad abt that. So i think Jace would feel bad about destroying something that takes so long to grow, that Porter cares about, and find away to blame himself even tho Porter is the one who started everything.

Anyway. This scene felt. Necessary bc i think there needed to be some semblance of showing them in like. Actual conflict. at the time i actually did NOT know that THIS would be THE FIGHT in the exhange that Porter was talking about earlier. When he said "i thought you meant it this time". i mean. its not explicit but I do think there's a finality to the interaction that implies that yes. Jace was fucking serious this time. And again there's that throughline of the ratgrinders haunting the narrative. About Jace caring and feeling like he's never caring enough.

Like, so much of the story is ABOUT Porter looking right past jace and i felt like there should be scene that. Says it outright. But also. Not being completely wrong. IMO. B/c I also think Jace was threatened by the version of himself that porter sees. And he thinks he doesn't live up to that. he COULD never live up to that. (And in some ways he does. In some ways. He's might even be perfect in his own way. He kinda loved Porter to the point of invention so)

[orbitfalls]

I've come seeking revenge mwahaha

FMK cygnus, alphard, druella

EM NOOOOOOO

This is a terrible thing to do to me because like. NONE of these options feel right I don’t wanna fuck marry OR KILLL any of them SHJSHSJSHJS these are my sickly children that I keep in a glass jar and feed one corn chip a day like. I don’t wanna fmk them I wanna take samples of their hair and study it under a microscope??????

BUT IF I MUST (deep sigh)

We’re talking UV here btw as always

Okay shit so I’m marrying Alphard I think. To me he’s a very free spirit and I feel like that trait would be reflected in a marriage with him for sure. It would be the least restrictive thing ever we would just be best friends and travel the world together and fuck shit up. And then when he’s losing a game of cards to a group of foreigners in some random port town in the Caribbean he improvises the most outrageous travel stories while i fight not to laugh as I pickpocket his opponents. Then he frowns and claims that His Wife sadly is waiting for him back on the ship while maintaining dead eye contact with me over the shoulders. and then we run off together and steal their boat

Uhmm okay so out of these three Cygnus is my favourite for sure and I’m taking this opportunity to kill him. I think I deserve it actually as a treat yk what I’m saying. This man is the scum of this earth and I would absolutely cherish the opportunity to gently shove him off his beloved Backyard Cliff. Yet I have a feeling he’d come back to haunt me??? I would never be able to look at waves the same way ever again yk. That might not be so good if I’m marrying Alphard. Also I feel like I might miss him a little he’s just a little guy

Fucking druella. This one I feel pretty neutral about actually bc to me she’s hard to get a grasp on as a character? It might be just my lack of writing her, but to me she will always be more of an echo than a woman. She’s the afterthought, she’s the mother whose death began the story, she’s the body whose ashes were spread in the waves. To me she’s not as much of a character as she is. well. a force of irony? The waves that haunt Cygnus, the insanity that haunts bellatrix, the death that haunts narcissa, the echo that haunts andromeda. I fuck with that tho for sure yes

[houseofbrat]

I’m getting confused.

So, do you think that W&K knew about the possibility of detecting cancer prior surgery? And that maybe the surgery was to take out the tumor or organ as the first part of the treatment and then that’s why she is doing ‘preventative chemo’?

Because I keep reading people saying that some people have had surgery without expecting to have cancer and then after sending it to pathology, they discovered the tissue with cancer cells. Many are saying that it’s ‘common’ or it’s how some were diagnosed. Many are fortunate to find it in early stages, other ñd not so much.

Or what are you implying? Are they lying in some part of the story? Or how do you think all this happened?

I just hope that whatever she had/had, it had been detected on time and isn’t in an advanced stage tho.

I would recommend my answer to your previous ask here.

I think Kate's surgery was for a bowel obstruction, bowel fistula, or severe diverticulitis. There's no way to no for sure since they're never going to tell us. (It's too embarrassing! Gasp!) They always do imaging prior to surgery, so if the radiologists did not see any noticeable lesions on her imaging, then she likely was diagnosed as Stage 0/in situ based on the pathology report. Or whatever they call it in the UK.

I think Kate's "preventative chemotherapy" is very unnecessary. It makes the doctors and medical staff feel good because they like to do medical interventions. That's what their entire careers are based on. However, that doesn't mean she needs it to be healthy. In all likelihood, she would be just fine without it. She should have waited another six months to do it if she wanted to do it. Should have waited until her body and mind finished healing and her husband stopped chain smoking in the backyard to soothe his nerves.

Kate's got rich people problems. She can get any treatment she wants, even if her life would be better off without it.

[vanessashands]

When the world didn’t matter…

 summary: reader has been through a tough time and they decided they wanted to fight crime because of how much there was in New York so they took it into her hands to make sure that crime goes away, but as time went on, they got tired, and they lost important people behind, they lost themself.

Warnings:  depressive reader, mentions of suicide, ED, blood, fighting, yelling,PTSD, death ,angst.

Lmk if I missed anything!!

Writers note:This was the song I was thinking of when I made this. IF THESE ARE SENSITIVE TOPICS THEN PLEASE DONT READ!!! I was listening to this song when I was making this so please enjoy and it is my first time making a fic so be nice. This is a veryyyy short fic so I’m sorry dm me if you want to request something or ask for a part 2

Started July 2nd

Finished November 28

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Empty, emptiness is all I felt like all the warmth was sucked away from me, I heard is a beeping noise then I woke up. 6:37 “ ah goddamn it I’m late” I get up from bed to feel the cold tile on the feet “having to do the same old thing again and again, when will it stop”

I had to get ready for school again, I skip breakfast and I would take my bike so I wouldn’t be so late. Seven minutes later I got to school I locked up my bike and I got to class “ah y/n your  finally here I was wondering where  you were” as I’m walking to my seat I heard “and also you have detention at the end of the day”as I walk to my seat flash and Gwen look at me and whisper “what happened are you okay?” I looked at them and said “leave me alone I don’t want to be in more trouble then im already in I just woke up late” I unzip my back pack and take out my notebook and start taking notes.

an hour later I got to the cafeteria i didn’t feel like eating today so I just grabbed a bottle of water and sat down, flash and Gwen looked at each other and started asking questions. “hey.. why aren’t you eating y/n I’ve seen you eat like…3 times within the week are you okay?” I haven’t really ate this entire month so, no I’m not okay but what does it matter I’m gonna die sooner or later, right? “Yeah Im just not hungry right now i feel nauseous tho” I feel nauseous because we haven’t ate, we might die, be isn’t that what we want? to die and never come back?

“….hello….hello…y/n! are you even listening? What happened?” “Oh uhh nothing I was just In my head sorry what were you saying flash?” “I’m worried about you y/n you’ve been zoning out a lot more and you seem kinda frail looking… but I um was saying-“ the bell rang “ oh I have to go but um, see you guys at 3rd period bye” they both say “bye!” As I walk down the hall to get to class I have this sharp pain in my stomach I clench my stomach and I crouch but as soon as I crouch, I get up 10 times faster and start walking down the hallway as I’m one of the first students to get to class I pick my seat out and I get my notebook and pencil and start writing.

Two periods and detention have gone by and school has already ended and as I’m unlocking my bike I’m biking home I feel the cool air on my neck and it’s calming it’s as if I have nothing to do, as if I’m a kid again but that feeling goes away when I feel water droplets on my head. I sigh and I keep going, a few minutes later I’m home and putting my bike in my backyard and entering through the back door I’m socked to the bone and as i pass my kitchen and go straight upstairs to go study that’s when I hear something from my police radio…

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This is my first fic and I just wanted to experiment but should I make a part two?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[lightboundhellhound]

i swear to god my family (especially my mother) won’t take me seriously about our big outside dog being a threat to bodhi until he actually fucking kills him

i WITNESSED this asshole damn near take a bite out of bodhi, missing by like a hair, and my moms like “he’s just standing his ground cos bodhi barks at him” yeah. just standing his ground. for now. but he’s been getting more and more aggressive over time and i have a feeling it’ll only get worse from here. fuck you if my dog gets killed because of your negligence.

i’m not letting him out in the backyard without a leash anymore tho i know that much. i thought it’d be enough to be out there with him but clearly that’s not the case

im so fucking pissed off rn i wish we never got that asshole dog

any negative comments about me hating this dog will get blocked, i should hope it won’t happen, but the internet homes all types of people so fair warning

[orgxnas]

The Bad Batch as Dads

I feel like this has been done before? But my take on it

Hunter

The Outdoorsman Father™️

Drives a busted up pickup truck and REFUSES to buy a new one (he just keeps fixing it and it works?)

Wakes you up early to go fishing (like I’m talking 5 am) at your favorite creek/river/lake

After being out on the water for a few hours he’ll take you to breakfast at the local diner near the spot

Built a treehouse in the backyard

Brought you along to Home Depot to pick out the wood for the treehouse

Gave you a Swiss Army knife for your 10th birthday

Takes you to the lake to swim during the summer

Wears exclusively flannel and blue jeans

Makes the best Belgian waffles

Drinks his coffee BLACK. No cream, no sugar, no nothing

Pulls you out of school for the day to take you hiking up your fav mountain bc “the color is great this year! It’s worth missing a day of class to see these trees!”

Owns a small cabin in the woods that he takes you on a yearly trip to in the late summer

Tech

Software Engineer father

Homework with him is either hell or heaven

You’ll either leave the kitchen table burnt out and crying or with a whole new understanding of the material

Not overly emotionally involved with you but he def makes an effort

Picks you up from school on Fridays and then takes you out for dinner at your fav restaurant

He likes to watch documentaries and docu-series with you

Thinks it’s important to know about things even as random as the eating habits of squirrels

Helps you pick out your first computer

You both eat the same cereal (honey nut cheerios with cut up strawberries)

Teaches you how to do some basic coding

Works out on the porch in the summertime so he can keep an eye on you while you play in the yard

Soccer dad?

Wrecker

Former Athlete dad

Either a pro athlete or college athlete, either way he doesn’t play anymore

Def played rugby (he’s a rugby lad I will not be taking criticism)

Got you involved in EVERY sport growing up (soft/baseball, soccer, flag football, basketball, and rugby let’s be real here)

Didn’t force you to play tho, if sports weren’t your thing he’d respect that, he just thinks a lil healthy competition is good for you

Every sports drink imaginable is inside your fridge

Encourages you to eat your fill of food to keep up your energy

Has SO much exercise equipment that he got off of eBay in the basement (he’s trying to built a home gym)

Always watching a match on the tv

Goes for morning runs

Likes to show you old clips from his days as an athlete and goes “YOU SEE THAT? Guess who that is? That’s your old man right there! Bet you didn’t know I was that strong and quick huh!”

Def put on a few pounds since retiring and becoming a father but still in really good shape

Lives in athleisure

Is frequently found in the garage looking at his old trophies, plaques, and awards

Echo

Social Studies Teacher dad

I cant explain it, it just makes sense?

His students love him

the single moms at the school love him too

He does the grocery shopping at home and brings you with

Let’s you sit at the table with him and help while he grades homework and tests

He watches Curse of Oak Island

History channel after dinner is a nightly ritual with you two

Plot twist, he’s the social studies teacher at YOUR school

He teaches a few grades above you, so he’s not your teacher yet, but will be eventually

Homework with him is always pleasant and never stressful

Watches football on sundays and let’s you help make the pigs in a blanket

Teaches you how to drive

Crosshair

The Redneck father

LIKE PLS ARE YOU KIDDING ?

He already has the tooth pick in the mouth constantly

And the guns?

Yeah def the redneck dad

Smokes Marlboro reds for sure

You know that girl on tiktok who does the Cig Mom POVs? Yeah think that

Makes you grab him a beer from the garage fridge

Goes fishing a lot

Either loves taking you hunting or hates it

Likes it bc it means he can spend time with his kid doing something that he enjoys

Hates it bc you’re never quiet or still enough and you scare off all the game

Also drinks his coffee black but somehow it’s even more nasty than Hunter’s?

He does take you with him to the bar tho for happy hour and teaches you how to play the pool and the ring game

Used to play football in high school

I don’t even think this man is registered to vote

Shows up to your youth base/softball games and is asked to leave bc he started swearing and almost getting into fights with the other teams dads

Not emotionally involved in your life at all

Until he found out you had a date

Then he acted all intimidating towards your date and subtly threatened them

Homework with him is traumatic for the both of you

[writingpencil]

Beyond the Monster

Holy shit, this one is SIX years old (2019)

It definitely shows too (*sigh* cringe is dead but my era shows)

So, the OG concept was that, two years ago, a zombie outbreak made teens Rhys, Kiki, Jon, and Zyrann form a group to survive. Now they're nineteen, almost twenty, on their way to South Carolina, where there's supposedly an outpost.

However, Zyrann(1st person POV) gets sepereated from his group(I honest to god thought Zyrann was a girlie lmao oops) and has a bad accident. Thankfully, they are saved by Zero and his wolf, Echo, who later agree to help him reunite with his friends.

(Also Zy's group calls the zombies "mutants" while Zero calls them "roamers")

Prolog

“Kiki Taria,” 

“Here!”

“Jon Rider?”

“Present and accounted for.”

“Rhys Brewer?”

“I’m not late!”

The rest of the class, including our teacher Mr. Dendwin,laughed at Rhys’s usual “jokes”, if you can even call them that. I never found Rhys to be funny, or Jon to be smart, or Kiki to be pretty, but they were. Some could say they were the best part about humans, their minds beyond what is natural.

That’s major league bs. 

They were like the rest of us; human. 

And yet I found myself being friends with these three. . .

Not my choice, parents are friends so we spent many an afternoon at each other's houses and played in the backyard.

Well. They played and I sat in a corner reading. 

I do that all too much; read. 

I read all I can, whatever you put in front of me I’ll read it. Something else. . . I draw, whatever that’s good for. I’m actually drawing right now, ignoring what Mr. Dendwin is saying other than listening for my own name. 

“Zyrann Zen.”

I simply just raised my hand, a custom between my teachers and I. They simply mark me down and I don’t have to speak. 

I adjusted my mask, and continued to draw. 

Kiki passed me a note, neatly folded up in that “perfect” way. 

She didn’t write it tho, the handwriting belongs to Jon;

Hey Zyrann,

Would you like to join Kiki, Rhys, and I for lunch in the library? We plan on going there again after school. Also, Rhys said it was okay that you could stay with him.

Just show up.

-Jon.

I’m going to show, lunch is boring and there is no heart in my home. . .

Chapter 1

Where the heart is

“Wake up, Zyrann.” Kiki had to shake me in order for me to wake up. 

I just looked up as if her shaking me didn’t, almost, give me a concussion. “Kiki, where are Rhys and Jon?”

“They took the jeep to Misty Hollows,” Kiki said, she started to cook an MRE we found.  And of course they took the jeep, that’s Jon’s intelligence for you. He’s a smart cookie. 

“Kiki, you’re cooking it wrong.”

“What?”

I re-showed her how to actually cook an MRE. Thankfully we even had MREs, none of us have anything to make a fire with. 

Please don’t underestimate Kiki, she really is smart but she gets absent-minded a lot. Not her fault, actually, it’s a trait that her family passed down. She use to complete her homework and tests that way; staring off into space and letting her subconscious do all the work, she never got a wrong answer.

Kiki and I had shared the MRE, she said the boys had shared a can of peaches before they headed out. Misty Hollows looks promising for medical supplies as well as food, with little to no mutants. 

Mutants. . . Right.

Mutants are the equivalent of the roaming, walking, crawling, ugly dead that people love to butcher from comics. But, our version of mutants are different since they separate into categories. 

There are the walkers; they can’t run or move at all unless it is walking. They are really easy to avoid and super weak, and may be pathetic if you die from one of them. A horde is the same way, except it’s twice as terrifying. 

Then runners; Only run, and not as weak as the walkers but weak enough to be considered weak. They are fast, faster than the average human, and hard to run from. A horde is. . . imagine a large group and they are trying to get you and eat you while you try and run ahead. Yup, that’s scary.

Crawlers are typically legless, and that’s not a joke. They crawl, they sneak, they bite. And some can crawl on walls. . . I like to call them spiders. 

Next is the Brawlers. They’re twice the size of a six foot human, and could probably one punch you. They typically are surrounded by a horde of mutants, walkers, so the walkers can find the humans and the brawler can destroy them. In one world, they are demons. In the other world, they are like protective mothers who are only trying to feed their babies. I’m not joking; I observed a brawler and her crowd and she literally grabbed a carcass and gave it to them. 

The father, or so I’ve seen, is what we call the Gladiator. They are two feet taller than Brawlers and can destroy entire buildings as tall as New York’s skyscrapers. And the Gladiator, because there is only one or two, remains in Manhattan eating whatever he can catch. 

Thankfully we managed to avoid Brawlers and the Gladiator, but that’s because we stick to the trees since Brawlers and Gladiator cannot go through them without damaging themselves first. 

“Zyrann. . .” Kiki said. 

“Yup.”

Kiki simply shrugged. “If we were to make it to South Carolina, do you think we could make a pit stop in Sunstone Valley? It’s a pretty small town but I know where it is.”

I nodded. “I’m with you, I know you want to find Hayden. But, really, it’s up to Jon.”

Jon is our leader, he makes the major and most of the final decisions. For two reasons. One; Jon is smart. Two; Jon is logical. 

But, knowing Jon, he’ll let us go to Sunstone. 

Crack.

We both stopped moving, and looked around making little noise as possible. I pulled out the pistol and readied it, Kiki took out her’s. 

“Zyrann. . . We don’t have silencers!” Kiki whispered to me. 

“I know,” I whispered back. “Don’t shoot unless absolutely necessary. Run if its a walker or crawler, shoot if its a runner.”

Jon’s gonna hate me if I get Kiki killed. 

“Stand.” I whispered as I stood myself. Kiki followed. “Get your bag.”

Kiki, quietly, put on her bag. She keeps the food and water. I already have my bag on, I keep track of whatever they miss. Jon has back-up weapons and ammo, Rhys takes the medical supplies. 

A surprise from our joker; He’s a decent doctor. 

Kiki got out her walkie-talkie. “Rhys, Jon, come get us. There’s something here and it’s not friendly.”

Jon’s static voice came through; “We’re coming back, meet us by the road.”

“Okay.”

Kiki and I just got out of there, the woods I mean, and we waited by the road at the ready. Honestly, I’m sure we just panicked and it was just a mouse or rabbit or something. . . But I rather be safe than sorry. Especially these days. 

That same black jeep sped on over to where Kiki and I were waiting. 

“Hey party people!” Rhys said, thankfully Jon was the one driving. “Get in already! Zyrann, your mask is crooked.”

I fixed my mask as I got in. 

“Where we heading off?” Kiki asked.

“South Carolina, where else?” Rhys deserved that slap to his head. 

Jon took off before he answered. “I was thinking we’d go to Redwick, then we could make a stop to Silverkeep, and then Icemeet.”

That would take us a week, that’s without pit stops or resting or sleeping. 

“Did I make you mute, Zyrann?” Rhys asked, we had been driving for an hour or two and he and Kiki switched seats. 

I pointed to my mask. 

“Sorry,” Rhys said. “Can you talk, please? I’m real sorry!”

I looked out the window, completely ignoring Rhys. 

My mask. . . Yes, my mask. . .

My mask is just a plain white hockey mask that covers all of my face, the mouth area had a red ‘x’ over it. . . I’ve been wearing this mask my entire life, from birth and soon to death. And, for some reason, whenever someone mentions it I immediately don’t talk for the rest of the day or longer. I remember going silent for an entire week because someone mentioned it.

I also remember not talking for a month when Rhys attempted to touch it.

Heh, he still tries to touch it.

“Come on Zyrann!” Rhys whined. “I’m sorry!”

I ignored him. 

Jon and Kiki looked at one another, they nodded. 

Kiki looked back at us. “We need to make a pit stop for gas, in Civil.”

Jon drove into Civil, parking the car away from the gas station. Kiki got out with Jon and they both went to get gas. . . What?

An awkward silence loomed between Rhys and I, Kiki and Jon weren’t coming back until he and I made up or something stupid like that. But talking is out of question.

That doesn’t mean Rhys isn’t going to try.

“So,” He started with. “For once, it’s not raining huh? It’s nice out, I like it!”

Although I agree, I’m still not talking Rhys. 

“Remember when you use to sleep over?”

Rhys. . . Why would you bring that up? What are you doing, Rhys?

I shifted my gaze over to Rhys, he was looking down at his hands, which shifted nervously.

Rhys continued; “I was always confused on why you wore that mask, even when you sleep. I always thought that is must of been uncomfortable. . . You know I almost saw you without your mask once?”

I twitched.

“Funny enough, it was two years ago. . . Before everything went down.”

That day? 

“Yeah,” Rhys said, he noticed I twitched. “You were in the guest room and Mom sent me to go get you, you left the door opened. I almost caught you in the mirror but I opened the door and I didn’t get the chance. . .”

Yeah, I hate remembering that day. 

We were seventeen, last year of school. I do take my mask off, occasionally. Like bathing or sleeping, only when I’m by myself, and just because. I wanted to take it off that day, just to remember what I looked like. 

I stared myself for a good ten minutes, at my dark brown hair and way too “perfect” shade of blue eyes, my fairly translucent skin. . . Not an ounce of my father was there, just mother. Father said I was everything she was; looks, personality, skills, even our childhood was the same. 

But I doubt Mother would be happy with Father, she use to be so cheerful though that it's hard to imagine her being angry. 

Back to that day. . . 

Rhys had entered my room, bright and cheery and thrown a mouthful of breakfast puns at me. I had to quickly put my mask on, it was crooked so I fixed it and played it off as if that was what I was doing.

Then, his mother screamed. 

We both ran to see what was the matter. Rhys mother was on the floor, being eaten alive by some random lady that had spikes growing from her back. You could just see the life being drained. . .

I pushed Rhys back into my room, locked the door, and just started to panic. 

Rhys had to sit and he started to cry, his sobs stung me. . . Stabbed right through the heart. 

“She. . . she. . .” He could barely speak.

I sat beside him and comforted him the best I could. 

While Rhys cried into my shoulder, I called Jon. He and I made a plan and he drove to pick us up after Kiki. Rhys and I had exited through the window. And, we went from there. 

How can I stay silent after that?

“Rhys. . .” I barely managed to get out. “Come here. . .”

Rhys moved over to me, I instantly wrapped him into a hug. 

I hate this! I hate all of this! 

My best friend had to suffer, watching his mother get eaten before his very eyes! 

No. . . stop it Zyrann. . . you knew who she was. . . what kind of person she was. . .

You have to hold him, you’re all he has left anymore.

“Sorry Rhys. . .” 

“It’s fine, my fault anyways.”

“No. . .”

Rhys laughed. “I really do want to see you though.”

“No. . .”

“I can’t just,” Rhys reached for my mask. “Pull this off and-”

I grabbed his wrist. “No.”

“Can you say something other than no?” 

I smiled. “Yes.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I hate you.”

“No.”

“Not again! I will hit you!” 

“Try.”

I immediately exited the car and sprinted towards Jon and Kiki, with Rhys chasing me. I hid behind Jon and couldn’t stop laughing, or giggling, doesn’t make a big difference.

“We can’t leave the kids alone for two minutes!” Jon said.

“We’re older than you!” Rhys retaliated. 

That part is true, but we’re all nineteen and soon to be twenty for Rhys and I. 

“Aw, come on, Jon,” Kiki said. “At least Zyrann is feeling better,”

Jon nodded. “Come on, back to the car we go.”

Usually, one of us would groan or complain, even Jon, but by now. . . I’m sure we’re use to the road in the two year span we’ve been driving. The first car was Jon’s, that ran out of gas. Our second car got kidnapped by false friends. This is our third car.

Right now; Jon’s driving, Kiki is looking at CDs, and Rhys was searching through his bag. 

“Rock or Punk?” Kiki asked.

Jon voted on “Rock.”

Rhys voted on “Punk.”

Kiki looked at me and I just shrugged. Personally, I like rock music and punk isn’t bad either. I’m not real picky when it comes to music, same way with most things. 

“Um,” Kiki closed her eyes and randomly chose one. Rock. “Oh! Okay!”

Rhys rolled his eyes. Rhys hates rock music, for some reason, and doesn’t like punk music either. He just has some type of hatred towards it, so he went with the music he hated less. 

To end Rhys suffering, I took out some ear plugs I had. As I mentioned before, I keep everything I consider useful. That doesn’t mean I don’t carry food, water, or weapons. 

“Here.” I said, giving Rhys the ear plugs.

He happily took them and smiled when he couldn’t hear a thing. 

We had to make a stop for the night, we were all too tired to continue. So Jon parked the car off road, we were surrounded by forest. We all got out, Jon sat in the cargo back of the jeep while Rhys and I chilled on the ground. Kiki took out two cans of oranges, which I opened with one of the two can openers I had. 

“You can eat Rhys.” I said, giving him the can. 

“You gotta eat too Zyrann.”

“I’m fine, I’m not hungry anyway.”

“Eat.”

“No.”

“Zyrann!”

I smiled, even though Rhys can’t see it. 

I stood and started to walk towards the forest.

“Where you going?” Rhys asked.

“My business.” I said and continued to walk away. 

“You should take your bag.” Jon said.

I shrugged. “I’m going to be gone for two minutes, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Honestly, I wasn’t planning on doing what they thought I was. I was going to be by myself for two minutes, chill in a tree without my mask on. 

I did find a suitable tree that I was able to climb up and just relax in. I took off my mask and breathe in the air. A gentle breeze blew, my hair moved ever so slightly with the leaves of the trees and the grass on the ground. I stared at my mask, just for a moment, before switching my gaze back to the trees. 

“HOOOOOOOOOOWL!”

The call of a wolf’s echoed from somewhere in the forest, they are not common here other than in wildlife parks and zoos. I never liked either, no one likes being caged or watched, or laughed at.

Wolves are beautiful creatures, I read many tales about wolves - both fiction and non-fiction. I like the black wolves the most, the white wolves taking second, followed by greys and the others are just fourth together. It was the way I grew up; liking dark things more than fairy tales. Mother was the same way, she read to me these stories she called “creepypastas”, essentially internet scary stories spread around. My favorite is-

I guess I really am like Mother, getting off topic. 

“HOOOOOOOOOOWL!”

Hmpt. That wolf likes howling, maybe it's unaware of how the mutants work. They love sound. It’s not about sight, many mutants have bad eyesight, but the other senses will guide them like a parent with their child. 

I do not blame the wolf for not knowing, it sounds really young. Wolves live to six or eight years in the wild, maybe it’s right around two years old. . .

When a minute passed, I put on my mask and made my way down the tree and started the trek back to the group. 

I instantly became loss. 

I ended up just wandering the forest for minutes at end, sure that everyone was worried sick about me. 

The wolf had howled again, it was closer to me than before. . . 

“Shi-!” I wasn’t looking where I was going and completely, blindly, fell off a cliff. 

I’m not even exaggerating, I fell and rolled on the side of a cliff into a river at least ten feet deep and sunk to the bottom. 

There was no current, so I just stayed at the bottom. . .

I lost consciousness. . . In a sea of black. . .

Chapter 2

Wrong type of person

“Shh Echo,” A voice said, it sounded male but soft. “Hand me the disinfectant. . . thanks pup.”

I felt a sharp sting to my side, it made me move and let out a similar sound to pain. 

“Easy, Echo,” The voice spoke. “He’s just waking up. No, pup, leave his mask alone.”

I blinked a couple times, the sun blinded me and I immediately shut them. I went to sit up but a hand was placed on my chest and kept me on the ground.

“Don’t move,” The voice said. “You hurt yourself and will take out your stitches.”

“S-Stitches?” I managed to squeak out. 

“Yes, you cut your head open. It’s not as bad as you’d think.”

I felt someone, maybe the person the voice belongs to, wrap some bandages around my stomach and side. 

The voice chuckled. “You took quite a beating, falling off of Divers’ Cliff like that- Echo! Down girl!”

I felt a pressure against my chest making me cough, it was gone just a second after, followed by a whimper.

“Shush Echo, I know you’re trying to help, pup.”

“Who. . . are you?” I asked.

“Drag the bag under the tree, pup.” The voice avoided my question. “Yes Echo, I’m sure I can pick him up.”

“What?”

“Hold still.”

He placed his hands and arms on my back and under my knees and lifted me off the ground. It hurt and it took all of me not to complain. He moved me only a couple feet away in the shade of a tree and had me lay against it. 

“You’re out of the sun,” The voice said. “You can open your eyes.”

Which I did.

Before me was a man kneeling in front of me. He had platinum blonde hair and dark green eyes, pale as me, wearing a dark green hoodie with the hood up and a pair of jeans and running shoes. He wasn’t frowning, or smiling, he was just there. . . 

Staring at me. 

“Hello. . .” I soon became very nervous, and this was all I could say. 

“Hello.” He said, his voice surprised me, despite me already hearing it. 

A sleek black wolf nudged a dark green bag at this man’s side, it had blue eyes the shade of the sky. 

“Thank you, Echo,” The man said, petting the wolf’s ears and neck. “Good pup, arencha girl?”

The wolf accepted the man’s petting and licked his hand. The wolf, a female named Echo, turned to look at me.

“He’s all right, pup.” The man assured Echo. “He may be dazed though, so be soft.”

Echo nodded, then licked my cheek like a puppy meeting a new person.

The man looked up at the sky, mumbled something I couldn’t hear, then turned to Echo.

“Echo, hunt.”

Echo nodded and ran faster than the wind in a certain direction.

The man held his hand out to me, but my nervousness didn’t let me shake it. The man just simply put it down, rummaged through his bag, and took out a pill bottle. He took out one and put the bottle back in his bag.

“This should help,” He said. “It’s a pain pill, nothing too high but it will help nonetheless.”

“I’m not in pain.” I said. 

“You will be.”

“Is that a-”

“A threat?” The man cut me off. “No, but soon enough when your body becomes fully conscious with your mind your muscles will be sore and your bruises will be pain filled. Please, for your sake and mine, take it.”

I, extremely slowly, took the pill and swallowed it. 

“I. . .” What do I even say?

“Tell me your name,” The man said. 

I’m glad I don’t have to start the conversation.

“Zy. . . Zyrann.”

The man nodded. “Nice to meet you, although I would have preferred a different situation instead of saving you from drowning.”

“Th. . . thank you.”

The man shrugged. “It’s nothing, but I advise you to be more careful Zyrann.”

The way he said my name. . . it sent chills down my spine. 

“What. . . is your. . . name?”

The man hesitated, he went to open his mouth but quickly shut it. 

“Please?” I begged.

The man nodded. “I’m Zero.”

Zero. . . 

Echo came back with a brown rabbit in her mouth.

“Good girl, Echo,” Zero said. Zero stood and went a bit away from me. He took a foot long stick, maybe, and tied a rope to it. Echo had some dry grass and small twigs and put it besides Zero. Zero took his rope and stick and another stick and did this. . . fancy way of making a fire. 

He made smoke, blew on it, and a small flame blazed. He had Echo fetch some stick and made a fire roar. He skinned the rabbit, put the fur aside, stuck a stick through it and made a quick spit.

I gagged at the skinning and the stick part. 

Zero looked up at me as I did it and said; “Don’t throw up, you’ve lost too much fluid as it is.”

Echo rubbed her muzzle against my stomach, which made it feel better. I lifted my hand a bit off the ground, Echo tucked her head under my hand and let me rest it there and pet her. 

Than I instantly remembered my friends.

“Jon, Kiki, Rhys. . .” I said their names and tried to move, but Echo placed her head on my stomach and prevented me from going far.

“Easy Echo,” Zero said. “He can’t go as far as you’d think.”

Echo eased herself but still wouldn’t let me go anywhere.

“Your friends ditched you.” Zero said bluntly.

“Wh-”

“Too many roamers. . .” Zero explained. “They looked, but they couldn’t stay. They are miles beyond us and it will take you a while to even catch them.”

“We’re heading. . . South Carolina. . .”

Zero gave me an odd look. “Why would you head to the Carolinas?”

“Outpost. . . civilization. . .” 

Zero sighed. “Oh. . .”

“Need to go. . . Sunstone. . . Valley.”

“That’s beyond a mistake.” Zero said. “There are two gangs who fight there all the time, the Blue Phantoms and Lost Souls. They’ll be killed on sight, or if they’re unlucky, taken to the camps.”

“My friend,” I coughed, screw this pain. “Kiki, her boyfriend’s there. Hayden Mayyor-”

“Mayyor.” Zero spat. “He’s such an asshole, did you not know he leads the Blue Phantoms?”

“No. . . Hayden’s a good man.”

“Who kills innocents at will, without complaint or hesitation.”

“Shut it.” I hissed, a weak hiss but still a hiss. “I know Hayden, he’s no murderer.”

“Guess you’re wrong.”

I wanted to scream at him, but I had no energy to do so. 

Zero sighed. “Sorry. . .”

I didn’t speak. 

Zero took out a hunting knife and skinned a small chunk of the rabbit off, inspected it, then gave it to Echo. 

“Not cooked enough,” Zero explained. “It’s too raw, pink. Echo, you can go hunt for yourself or scout our surroundings. Sixty feet radius.”

Echo got off me and ran off. 

“Do you truly plan on going to the Carolinas? To Sunstone?” Zero asked.

I nodded. “Of course I do, I’m not going to abandon my friends.”

Zero sighed, he sighs an awful lot. “Then I wish you luck.”

“You can’t come with me?” I asked. 

Zero shook his head. 

“I’ll die without you helping me, I can’t make it on my own. . .”

Zero didn’t speak at first, he remained in thought for moments on end.

“Fine.” He said finally. “I’ll take you to the Carolinas, or you reunite with your friends, but I’m leaving after that. Got it?”

I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Zero cut another chunk of the rabbit off, inspected it, then ate it. 

“Rabbit’s done Zy.”

I could move, despite how sore everything was and that I was beyond tired and that it was slow and filled with pain. I sat up from my slouching and held out my hand. Zero gave me a sliver of rabbit, which I ate slowly. Zero ate some, but he took the rabbit skin, stood, and walked off.

“Where are you going. . ?”  I asked.

“Just over here.” Zero said, he went only a couple yards away, knelt down and dipped the rabbit fur into. . . water? He was cleaning it, and came back. 

I watched as Zero took out a small suitcase box with many spools of different color thread and varies of needles. He started to sew away on the fur, turning them into. . 

Gloves? 

When Zero was finishing up, Echo came back and pawed at the ground. She pawed three times, and pointed her head to my right. 

“Okay,” Zero put aside the fur gloves and put everything away into his bag. He put on his bag, took the gloves, and put the gloves on me. “We have to leave, Zy.”

“I kinda. . . can’t move fast.”

“I know.” 

“I’ll try and-”

Zero picked me up as he did before, was he seriously going to carry me?

He was seriously going to carry me!

Zero carried me out of the woods and onto the road, Echo followed closely.

“Will you have to carry me for long?” I asked.

Zero chuckled. “No, although I’m sure you wouldn’t mind. In an hour, you’ll be able to walk fine and not slow as a snail.”

“Although I’m sure you wouldn’t mind?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zero didn’t respond. 

[lost-generation-au]

ok, just warning you tho, It's a lot. Both in length, and content.

Gen 1

Only RGB trio alive

Lives in the mall

Someone else is watching, they are calling themself “Bishop” which in name form mean ‘Overseer’

No one else is at the mall (As of right now)

Bishop: Any and all pronouns, is nice but maybe it’s an act?

Ranboo sees the anons as people.

Found a control panel that plays parts of the social experiments, so that way fun/s (Also, Ranboo saw Charlie as the slime/blood demon for a second)

Theory: The anons are ghosts and because Ranboo was dead for a while they can see us.  

 Gen 2

Ignore the Theory it’s not important THEY ARE IN A TIME LOOP (And so are we I guess)

Bishop is a bitch and is trying to blame us! (Bishop good now don’t worry)

Ranboo can’t speak 

Some of the others might be alive now (Nope)

List of people I want to stab if I get a body: The founder, Hetch, whoever is the person talking in red, Bishop’s mom (But I won’t because Bishop says no). 

Ranboo has figured it out! They all now know that they are in a time loop.

We can’t say Bishop’s name, but that won’t stop me from trying to hint at it >:)

I think they are still in the show, it is the only way to explain how they can get stuff and money for stuff. 

Can’t say any more things to them. Hide stuff better and do more hints.

Bishop is un-mind controlled now, They are good.

I accidentally revealed that to the founder, but we are going to fix that……hopefully….

Got Sneeg to help look for Checkers (What we are calling bishop now) so hopefully we find them.

Checkers looks like security to everyone but us (Sometimes) and Ranboo.

Got it fix we good

Gen 3

We are not good, the looped rest. if this happens again I’m going into my villain arc :D

No filter this time, Yippie 

Checkers says that we should stay away from Ranboo this time, at least for now 

(OOC:ask Bishop about their past at some point, Maple seems to want to rant about that :D)

Ranboo got mind control by a mask

Hetch caught on quickly, he is not mind control but my just good old fashioned gaslighting gatekeep girl bossing that’s happening, we’ll figure it out. (what was I even trying to say here? How much sleep did I get? How late did I write this?)

Gen 4

Going to be worse this time, be extra careful.

Back to talking in hints and riddles, yippie/s

Don’t know if anything changed

New(?) person, don’t know their name but they are a bitch

Checkers is missing

Ranboo got out of the box by themself and they are hurt, a lot……I really hope they remember…..(They don’t remember us D:)

Red text (The new person) is an AI,

Ranboo can’t see or feel us anymore :( I want to hug them so bad……(Head pat them, they don’t like hugs anymore)

Ranboo doesn’t want to leave this time

THERE WERE RED EYE FOLLOWING RANBOO

The power is out

Everyone is split up (Fun :D/s)

Bishop is ok :D but I want to check if they are being controlled again as soon as I get the chance (Worried about Ranboo now, Bishop is fine (Bishop is NOT fine))

Ranboo found their notebook :D

Ranboo is mind-controlled D: by the earpiece

“Ranboo” wants to cut off all the cameras, AKA, send us back to the void :(

Bishop was masked and was being controlled (Fucking called it) and we met the founder and Hetch fucking stabbed Ranboo and-

Gen 5

Charlie and Sneeg are out of the mall

Charlie finds us in their backyard

Ranboo is still trapped at the mall (I figure the same with Bishop)

No one remembers still (wHy :( (Ranboo remembers))

Charlie and Sneeg are staying at Sneeg’s old house. (I don’t think that’s the truth it way too close to the mall)

Going to go save Ranboo and Bishop (And whoever else we make our friend) after Charlie gets Sneeg.

Never mind, Ranboo is at the house now. (Still need to safe Bishop)

They all reliving the last 3 years (So like, 2026?(We in the future))

Ranboo can feel us again :D (don’t give hugs just head pats)

Ranboo has an old friend, feels like this is important, like they will be trapped as a Showfall worker or something.

New mission, make Ranboo smile and let them be happy :D

Ranboo has been forced to watch gore for the past 3 years, so if we get a chance to hurt Hetch and the founder, make sure they are at least closing their eyes.

Who I think Ranboo's friend is: an oc, Aimsey (Because Ranboo’s friend goes by any pronouns and Aimsey does as well, I think(Not Aimsey)) CrumbToast because they go by any pronouns (I checked this time) and since they have not faced reveal it makes sense that its face is covered :D (Update:IT’S FUCKING CHECKERS :D)

Sneeg and Charlie are being mind controlled or something because they are saying some shit that they would not say. (If they are not being mind-controlled I’m going to slap them, or throw myself at them, one of the two.)

Charlie locked Ranboo in a room

We are in Ranboo’s dream now :D

Ranboo’s friend goes by any pronouns

The dream was an old memory of when Ranboo found the taps, we met Ranboo’s friend in that dream but their face was blacked out, and after Ranboo stopped playing along with the dream the friend was yelling at Ranboo to say their name until Ranboo woke up

Also apparently Ranboo lied to us, not mad, tho I do want to know what they lied about.

The door to the room is unlocked

Don’t know where Sneeg and Charlie are

There are flys and bugs outside the house and in the house

There is a dead crow in the backyard, I wonder how it died….probably from a baby zombie (I’m sorry I can’t stop myself :D(never mind it was a raven I’m stupid))

THERE IS A DEAD BODY-

Gen 6

It fucking reset again, Ranboo quickly found us and we are now figuring out what happened (Ranboo stills remembers don’t worry)

Snowfall workers hunted Ranboo around the mall, killed them, and then they would wake up the next day revived.

Wait this is the first looped where Charlie didn’t find us……bit weird but it’s ok :D

Ranboo has wires in their skin

One of the wires glows red, I think it when they lie that it glows…….I’ll feel so bad if I’m wrong :( (I was wrong fuck I’m giving them so many head parts to make up for it……and hugs if they are alright with it now(They are not, stick to head pats))

Gonna to test to see if we can still give them head pats. (We can lets go :D)

Therapy (Seriously Ranboo looks insane sometimes they need it, and I’m sure everyone else will need the same)

Went to go cause some chaos against Showfall, found something to break, Ranboo cut a wire and everything went dark for a moment but now we are with Bishop again (I thought I killed us for a moment, not going to lie)

Ranboo got killed again but they will be revived tomrower (I don’t know if it’s their time or our time)

I finally got a chance to show Bishop their fan art :D

We found a Secret tunnel :] and it leads to the revile room…..

Found Ranboo, they are currently dead so we have to wait or find a 100% safe way to speed it up.

We reviled Ranboo but some of their memories are missing (Like all the time loop ones) so we are now going to fix that :D

BISHOP IS RANBOO FRIEND!!!! :D

Ranboo still blames themself so we are going to fix it.

Talking to Checkers now while Ranboo relaxes (I swear if someone touches them while we are not there I’m haunting someone) and we going to see what happened during their past :D

Little clues from other gens that I believed hinted at Ranboo’s and Bishops’ friendship: How Ranboo was drawn to the Bishop chess piece,

HETCH IS BISHOP’S UNCLE!!!!

Checkers doesn’t have siblings.

We going make Showfall pay for their therapy >:D

Talked to the founder.

THE FOUNDER IS OUR PARENT????? (They created the anons)

Ranboo gonna leave while the Anons and Bishop kill the founder >:D

Gen 7

BISHOP IS TIED TO A CHAIR IN FRONT OF THE BOX!!! D: 

There is a robot clone of Ranboo? Very weird

Bishop now knows that Hetch is their uncle.

Ranbot (Robot clone of Ranboo) is just a little guy, they are so fucking adorable, and we are going to get them out of here too :D (They were in fact, not just a little guy)

I FUCKED UP :D

Going to try to fill in the real Ranboo of this and hope they believe me.

This is not even talking about the socail experiment, fucking hell

- 🍄 

[hellysriggs]

Heyooo anon here! I got around to rewatching this weeks dw ep and I’m going bonkers!! Unironically think it’s one of my favorite episodes to date. The scene with BJ and Rosemary at the end was horrifying like ew ew ew get away from her!!! Jim better figure out how to extort BJ for every cent he can get, steal his house to give back to Rosemary, and then beat his ass for good measure imo. There is something so wrong with that man at a cellular level. Seeing Bern taking charge to save Joe was great, Gordo really had the audacity to tell HER that he lost a “good man,” like that’s her Dad we’re talking about!! Take three steps back!!! (Shoutout to his comment about the pancakes tho that was funny). On the topic of Joe and Colton, HOLY SHIT. I’ll try to not go on too long about this at risk of sounding crazy but. That entire march was insane. Watching Joe absolutely dog walk the killer was hot I mean wild like they had the guy tied up at the neck and getting yanked to the ground or kicked in the head or choked out every 5 seconds. 11/10. The actual fights were so good too like the two of them screaming in agony rolling in the dirt? Chilling. Show-stopping. etc etc. Zahn was actually incredible here like he’s always been really good but this episode he was on a whole other level. He didn’t say too much the whole march but you can tell every single thing he’s feeling by his eyes and the snarl on his face alone. And the stare down at the end of episode was so good I could practically feel the resentment radiating off Joe. No one is doing it like him!!

Also I was reading an article about the season and the writer made an interesting comment?

“Watching this week's penultimate Season 2

episode, you're bound to do a double take

upon learning a very surprising fact about

Manuelito's romantic past. (Seriously, there

is no preparing for it.)”

Like double take? No preparing for it??

OMG HIIIII 🥳🙌🏽 i was starting to wonder where you went like I was looking over at both inboxes and being like my dark winds anon…..🚶🏽‍♀️

okayyyy that ending was BRAZY get your hands off her or I’ll eat the rest of your steak -_- like it’s making my head spin that we only have so few episodes left and it’s making me want to do zoomies in the backyard. if we get to see jim give a good beat down on some white guy, I would call this season a success even though this season has already blown my eyebrows clean off. NEVER underestimate a girl and her father figure like gordo just wouldn’t understand 🙄 but I will give him extra points for being a funny bitch !!

there’s just something about dragging your oppressor through the desert on a leash is soooo satisfying like I’m sooooo sorry for him having a broken arm and probably a concussion but joe having blood over his face and being absolutely consumed by his emotions is soooo scrumptious. they really stepped up this season like its almost cathartic to see these characters release their rage AS THEY SHOULD!! this season has really set the stage for all the actors to bring their A game and they EXCEL at it. if nobody is nominated for any award, oh, the academy will be hearing from me personally.

oh anon, we are really in it now….what is going onnnnn is anyone ready to go homeeeee omfgggg I’m so scared but excited and intrigued it’s only going to be buckwild from here on out huh

[television-pil0t]

Time for another hit blog that will make all my friends sigh!

I miss my ex really bad!!! “BOO! STFU HE SUCKED” I don’t care😦! The best thing about me is I don’t listen to anyone! I don’t think he sucked and that’s all that matters. He hurt me sometimes but who doesn’t hurt me! I have bpd bro! I was probably being sensitive anyway!!!

Fr though I was just sitting in the kitchen eating and I almost started crying (not really but like ya know) it was a lot. I miss him. I miss him alot. I fucking love Simon and no matter how much my friends for some reason wanna say I didn’t miss him or love him.. I did. I do. I love him lot. I was just eating and thinking about it all.. man I gave my life to him and I’d do it again.

I shouldn’t be here man. I should be with him. I should be celebrating graduation with him not out here in a field watching the sunset. It’s great and all but.. I wish I was with him. I wish we were outside in his backyard watching the fucking clouds man. Just like he wanted to.

I wish I could hold him. I wish I could kiss him and tell him I love him over and over and over until maybe he believes it again. I wish I could give him gifts. I wanna buy him everything but I have 64$ to my name at the moment. I wish I was in his bed sleeping because even tho mine is better it’s not more comfortable.

I wish I could fuckin smell him bro. That’s how bad I miss him. He smells so good. I wish I could just hold him while he’s on my lap and he helps me fill out my college application.

I wish we were in the apartment I was thinking of buying us to surprise him for MY graduation. Since he finally got a job I was so excited. We could split the rent! It wasn’t even that much! It wasn’t super far away so he could see his brothers. Man I thought of everything. I got a new car so we can drive down together and see Alfred and now he unfollowed me and I’m sad.

I’m sad and I miss him. I miss them. I miss his friends that are annoying and weird and I hate. I miss his fucking laugh so fucking bad. God I love making him laugh. I love him telling me to shut the fuck up ir asking what the fuck was wrong with me when I’d say the most outlandish things JUST BECAUSE I KNEW he’d find it funny.

I miss talking and having him not listening and I’d have to say his name 3 times to get him to listen and I’d ask what’s he’s doing and he’s just say typing.

I miss the fact that he can’t multitask to save his life.

I miss his voice and his dumb basic ass style.

I miss crying otp with him because I’m crying now and I wanna be on the phone with him

I miss my fucking bf so bad what the fuck.

I miss him. I miss him and I hate crying. It burns my eyes so bad everytime I cry but god I miss him. I miss his dumb fucking letters and the way he typed. I miss his STUPID FUCKING STUTTERING WHEN I TALKED TO HIM IN *THAT* VOICE!

I miss him so bad. I hate crying over people. I hate remembering because all day I was fine.. I was fun thinking about him. I was fine but I hate this.

I was supposed to start T with him. He was supposed to take care of me when I got too surgery. This ain’t right and I hate it. I miss his small ass hands in mine and the sound of him thinking. I don’t wanna be in my damn room I wanna be with him. Locked in his DAMN ROOM. I wanna talk to his brother about stupid Emo shit and have Simon tell him to get out because he’s “being annoying.” Fuck this man.

I miss my boy. I miss our plans. I don’t wanna do this alone. I don’t wanna do this wish anyone else but him. I hate when I talk to my friends and they say “oh he sucked anyway remember how much you cried.”

Remember how happy I was though? Remember me nonstop talking about him with praise. I talked about him like we never had sex. Like he was the grace of his that I could hold. I don’t care about anything but him. To this day when I celebrated its FOR him. I graduated BECAUSE OF HIM. I couldn’t do this would him. I never wanted to. He got me here. I don’t wanna grow up without him. We’re supposed to grow old together. Fuck my friends man. I get not wanting to keep your friend in what you think is a shitty situation but I hate when they say bad shit about him. He was the sweets, kindest funnest, dumbest at time, sillyest, gayest guy I’ve met and I was happy he was mind. They weren’t there. They don’t get it. I’d drop them in a second to have him.

I loved him more than I love any of them. “Hey a rebound” for what? I don’t want anyone. I don’t want sex. I don’t want attention. I want him. I want what he gave me. I wanna see him again. I wish I could see his face. God I know exactly how it feels to just look at him. The feeling I get is indescribable. I.. my heart stops. He sent me nudes one time and I didn’t even care. I never cared for nudes really but this time it actually had his face and holy shit my heart melted they way I just zoomed into to his face. I cried just knowing.. god he’s my bf.. he’s so damn pretty..

He’s so fucking pretty… he’s so beautiful and smart. He did fuckibg precal and I hope to god he passed cuz idk. He’s so smart. He knows so much. He’s the smartest guy I know for sure. I wanna wrap him up and just kiss his forhead. I wanna rock him and tell him it’s alright. I wanna go on a long drive with him to see one of his friends so bad man. So bad.