#I've felt so dumb and wrong in the past when it comes to anything i enjoy and I'm pretty vulnerablehere

[the-one-who-rises]

It is very frustrating feeling so alone in a character interpretation. Like, i don't think everybody is wrong, it's just that an annoying amount of people are so locked into fanon inventions that it's hard to hold my own line. I don't think I'm crazy here, i try to stay to close to canon facts and rational inferences, but I'm no great talent at analysis, if I'm alone am i wrong?

Being accurate is important to me, and part of the fun, if i wanted to invent my own guy, I'd just do that. But i want to dig and find the truth (even though it doesn't really matter big picture) and i think the truth follows a subtler, softer line than the bulk of fans seem to enjoy.

And then there's like, two camps of being wrong IMO, the super chaos, dumb gay asshole, and the super angsty every single word and action is an act because he's just so misunderstood by his family.

And then I'm struggling to hold a balance in my own head between expanding his character with the previous iterations of himself and still being comfortable with him being different and unique among them and also a product of his slightly different genre from the past versions.

This is supposed to be fun, and i am genuinely having more fun than I've had in ages! but i am also ready to strangle my own brain about this

I just like him, and it's annoying to constantly evaluate fandom nonsense with the "he would not fuckin say that" lens. i guess i finally understand the pain now 😔 it's just been so long since i had a character i actually cared about enough to really understand that genre of posts. The annoyance of "are we really looking at the same guy" and the "yes, but that's a pretty surface level way to look at things don't you think?"

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) yandere enha when they find you ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ enhypen finding you after you run away ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈 hyungline・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror ‎, angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎stalking , kidnapping , threats wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. another request my dumb ass deleted ◉⁠‿⁠◉ ...

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he knew were you were the entire time; i've said this many of times , heeseung is crazy and he loves to play crazy mind games — games such as making a fake a dating account just to find you and match with you. he will literally wait it out , swipe through as many girls as he had to until he found you. you were excited to get back into dating , the guy you were talking to was completely different to heeseung , getting ready for your first date with him , everything felt like a breath of fresh air. at the restaurant you were looking down at your phone , not noticing the familiar sitting down with that crazy smile. “is that anyway to greet your date?” your eyes shot up. “hee-heeseung?” your voice shaking as you see him holding his phone — with the account of the guy on the screen. “did you really think you could run away from me?” he laughed , your eyes began to tear up.

“no don't cry baby, we'll still have a good night before i take you home and give you your welcome home gift.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

a serious inconvenience for him , he gives you everything and you dare leave him? okay that's fine , he'll let you have your fun , he won't even cancel the credit card he gave you , because that's exactly how he was gonna catch you. he waited until you order a purchase offline , and he was able to get the details to your new apartment a month later — normally he'd just send his guys to come get you ,but this time he wanted to be the one to drag you back home. “j-jay.” you saw the man in the suit standing in your door. “you try and run away from me , but you use the card i pay for to make your stupid little purchases. “jay please.” he doesn't want to hear it. “you've cause so much trouble already, people are already talking about how I can't control you.”

“now let's go, I'll have someone come and pack your shit.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

it was basically a miracle that jake was still alive , he barely did anything since you left , he only ate to stay alive , he only showered just in case you walked through the door. it had been two months since you left him , yelling how much you hated him before running out the door , leaving the sobbing boy on the floor. he was fully ready to take his life — but almost as if god was on his side , you come walking out of your favorite store. you had finally felt safe enough to go out and shop , jake hadn't tried to call you , of course you tried not to worry if he actually did end it all but you never got a call. you walk right past jake , you didn't even notice him that's how different he looked. jake followed you home , all the way up to your door , where he finally runs up to you. “yn!” he shouted. “yn why'd you leave me?” you try to open the door, but the look in his eyes. “j-jake.”

“please come home , i don't know how much longer i can do it without you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon was too impulsive to let you go on for more than a month , so you quite literally have to go into hiding , never leaving your apartment; even moving from the apartment he knew about to another one , one you thought he'd never find — boy how wrong you were. still held up in your apartment , constantly looking at the door. one day you finally feel a little a peace , not enough to leave, but enough to order your favorite food. you heard a knock , which makes you get up and go towards it. you still check the camera you installed and what you see outside makes your blood run cold. “hi baby.” the boy bangs on the door. “i found you.” he said. “sung-sunghoon.” you stuttered out. “don't dare pick up that phone and call anyone.” he said , leaning closer to the camera. “you moved but your parents haven't.”

“now open the door if you love them.”

©LUVYENI

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...���

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[fl3shm4id3n]

Fₐₜₕₑᵣ ₒf ₜₕₑ Yₑₐᵣ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʟʟʏ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ꜱᴜʟʟʏ ᴋɪᴅꜱ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴍɪᴛꜱᴋɪ- ᴡᴀꜱʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

Tw: abandonment, Oldest Child Syndrome, angst, reader cussing out Jake.

A/N: I think that one female rage audio edit (the one were the classical music is playing while there's screaming) fits her well, sorry that it isn't long, maybe the next part will be longer.

Masterlist

For the last couple weeks you were alone, you wanted to be alone. You had so much on your mind that you didn't want to interact with anyone but yourself. You hated feeling all sorts of things, specially when it came to your siblings. You had gone to the lake were you'd spot Jake and his family interacting, it was a bitter feeling being here, remembering the times Jake would use the excuse that he was busy. You sat on the floor with your feet dipped in the water.

Looking down at your feet, you couldn't help but feel tears form in your eyes. Why did the relationship between you and your dad had to change? He had made the promise that he wouldn't leave like your mom, but he did. Even though he was still here, he acted as if he did not know you. Was it because he was now a na'vi and had a new family? A family that obviously you weren't a part of, no matter how hard your siblings would try to include you in there family events, you were just not a part of them. Sometimes you wished that you had an avatar, maybe he'd recognize you again, you had begged Norm and Max if they could make you an avatar, they said they could try, but it'll take some time.

You hated it, you hated feeling the way that you did, you hated that your dad had left you behind. You hated everything at the moment. You wished that you were back on earth with the father that you deeply missed, the one that would take care of you and would look at you as if you were the light of his light, you missed when you were his Baby girl, you wished you could turn back the time.

You heard some grass moving, as if someone was walking through it. Looking back to see who it was, it was the one and only Neteyam, the brother who you barely had a relationship with you. "Hey sis.." that's all he said. You only waved at him and looked back down at your feet. Neteyam walked over and sat down on next to you, dipping his feet in the water. "Is something wrong?" he asked. You just sighed, cleaning your tears. "I don't know, everything doesn't seem fine." You said, while rubbing your now red and puffy eyes. "What's wrong? Did something happened?" he asked.

Looking over at him, you noticed his worried expression. You couldn't help but say something. "I've been thinking a lot about the past... how... how my dad used to love me." you said, looking away, feeling your tears coming back. Neteyam didn't say anything, instead he hummed, waiting for you to continue. "..Sometimes... I wished that... I could turn back time.. or.. wished to not be born if this was how my life was going to turn out." You admitted, feeling yourself hiccup as you cried. Neteyam felt bad, he noticed how his parents, mostly his dad would treat you. His first child.

Neteyam wasn't dumb, his dad may think he is but he isn't. He'd notice how you were completely ignored with the 'I'm busy with the kids' excuse. Majority of the time they'd leave the kids in his care and his parent's would be leave together, he always found that weird. Also never understood why you'd get excluded from their family when you were his father's child, also family.

"Can I admit something to you?" he asked, you looked back at him, you nodded while wiping away your tears and nose. "This may sound bad, but... I honestly wished dad wouldn't pay attention to me.." he admitted. "What do you mean?" you asked, a bit confused. "I love my dad really, but... I just.. want to be ignored sometimes you know? All this expectations and responsibilities he has on me are killing me.." he said. It was understandable, it was no secret that Jake would put a lot of pressure on Neteyam, for being the oldest. He was forgetting that his favorite son was also just a kid, a kid who was missing out on everything because he is afraid to disappoint his father.

"I know how you feel, but you never want to be ignored. Its the worst feeling you could have. Being ignored by the people who were suppose to be loving and caring to you" you said. Neteyam only sighed, you could see the sadness in his eyes. All he wanted was to be able to do what other kids did and not worry about being scolded by Jake. You then got close to him, leaning your head on his shoulder while he leaned his head down to your smaller head. This was the first time that you and Neteyam had actually spent time together.

It had gone dark, when Neteyam noticed the time, he was freaking out that his dad would get onto him. You saw how he nearly died on the spot, so you decided to walk him back and to not worry about Jake. The whole walk back he kept mumbling how his dad was going to ground him, you had to basically calm him down from having an anxiety attack. This was not okay, him almost dying for being scolded was a huge red flag.

When you got to the camp, you watched how Jake was passing around outside the hut while his wife was trying to reason with him. As soon as he spotted you two approaching, he stomped over with an angry look on his face. "Where the hell were you boy?!" he yelled at him, totally forgetting that you were there. Before Neteyam could answer, you responded for him. "He was with me!" you said loud enough, then Jake looked at you, seen your unbothered expression bothered him a lot. "You have any idea what you could of caused?!" he asked, now his full attention on you. "We were only out for a bit more later, but were here now." You said rolling your eyes.

"You should know better! He was suppose to be back before Eclipse!" Jake yelled again, all you did was roll your eyes and listened to him rant. "We're here now aren't we? That's all that matters" you said, this angered Jake. "You listen here young lady, rules are meant to be followed and when those rules are broken they're consequences!" he said. You looked at him wide eyed. He did not just say that, he did not just try to scold you as if you were his kid. You are, but at the same time you were.

"I know damn well you did not just say that to me." You warned. "Watch your mouth or else-" Jake was cut off. "Or else what?! You'll ground me!? Guess what! I'm a fucking adult, you can't fucking ground me!" you yelled, getting the attention of both Neytiri and your younger siblings. "Yes I can, I'm your father!" He said, this made you lose it. "Oh! Now you want to be my fucking dad? After fifteen years of you ignoring me and pretending that I'm not here, you decide to be my fucking dad!? Wow! Give up to the Father of the fucking year everybody!" you screamed, but before Jake could speak, you cut him off. "You may think just because you're my dad you can tell me what to do, guess what, you stopped being my dad many fucking years ago. You know what, fuck you! I wish you were never my father! I fucking hate you!" you screamed, ignoring that everyone around you had stopped and listened, they watched how you basically had cussed out their leader, they were in complete shock, including your siblings.

Before Jake could tell you something, you just took off running. Ignoring how your name was called by your siblings. It was already late and the woods were already dark with animals rooming around, you didn't care if something were to attack you, you just wanted to get away from everything. You finally stopped, trying to catch your breath. Your throat and lungs were burning. You felt your tears coming back, you let out a sob, that sob went to a full on scream. It was a mixture of both anger, sadness and frustration. You didn't care that you were being heard. You just wanted to scream and cry all at once.

Once you stopped screaming, you continued to cry, silently as it began to rain. You didn't care that you were being soaked, that was until you felt a sharp pain in your neck. You winced, touching your neck, feeling some kind of dark on your neck. You pulled it out painfully, feeling your neck sting. Looking back at the object, it was sleeping dark. Everything began to feel strange, you saw how the glowing plants began to multiply and how your eyes began to heavy. Next thing you knew, your body felt numb and you began to stumble around, until you hit the floor. You were trying to stay awake, but you couldn't. Last thing you saw was how a group of blue figures dressed in camo were approaching you, then everything went black.

ₚᵣₑᵥᵢₒᵤₛ ₚₐᵣₜ, ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[strniohoeee]

Poignant Pt. 2

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: After not seeing Matt for 4 months he finally reaches out, and wants to talk to Y/N…..he expresses certain feelings, but will Y/N feel the same?🫀

Warnings⚠️: None just cute or whatever I guess angst? This one’s short but still hope you enjoy it🫶🏽

Song for imagine: It Will Rain- Bruno Mars

Read Poignant Pt. 1 here

And pick up these broken pieces

Til I’m bleeding

If that’ll make you mine

Matt Stromboli🤭

-How about in this lifetime?🪻

I smiled down at his text, and went to answer him.

-Hey Matt

-Hey Y/N. How you been?

-I’ve been good. Just been working on myself for these past few months

-I’ve been thinking about you, do you think about me still?

-Of course I do Matt….

-We should see each other again

-I don’t know…that might open some wounds

-Wounds?

-Yeah, I’m not sure I’m ready to see you again

-Why not?

-I’m scared

-lmao scared of what??

-scared that when I see you my feelings will still be there

-that’s not a scary thing

-yeah it is….especially if the feelings aren’t mutual

-but what if they are?

-you don’t know that Matt. You might think you like me, but that’s not always the case

-Come see me please?

-where? And what time?

-tonight, the burger spot on the pier…6:30??

-yeah sure I’ll be there, see ya Matt

-see you later

Later on that day I had gotten ready to see Matt. I wasn’t sure how to feel. I felt like I still had feelings, but I also felt like I just missed him as a whole, as my friend. I wasn’t sure how seeing his face was going to affect me.

I had Ubered to the pier, and I got there at about 6:25, so I walked to the restaurant. My nerves making me nauseous and anxious.

I got to the restaurant, and told them I was meeting someone so I walked until I spotted Matt. My stomach instantly churning. I walked to the booth and sat down

“Hi” I said looking at him

“Hey Y/N” he said smiling at me, that goddamn smile

“It’s been so long,” I said looking at his face. How can someone change so much in four months

“It has. You look great” he said looking at me

“Thank you. You look great too” I said smiling at him

“Thank you..nothings change” he said laughing a little bit

“You just look so different” I said looking at him

“Could be the hair, or the tattoos” he said looking down at his hair

“Yeah it could be” I said nodding at him

We had gotten dinner and barely spoke…this weird tension always in between us….I just didn’t know how to feel at all. Did I like him or did I not?

We walked on the pier and sat down watching the sunset

“I um I’m not sure what to say” Matt said quietly

“I mean you don’t have to say anything” I told him

“No I do. I just don’t like how that day went” he said looking out to the waves

“It’s okay Matt. We’ve grown from it, and I’m okay. It was needed” I said looking over at him

“I just…man I don’t know. As soon as you left I felt this pain in my chest” he said blinking

“Well I left all you guys” I said looking at the water too

“I feel like I made the wrong decision” he said

“I don’t think you did. I think some part of you feels bad for rejecting me, and you’re making yourself like me, but I just think you miss your friend” I said to him

“Do you still like me?” He asked still not looking at me

“I’m not sure Matt. I came here wondering how I’d feel and if all those feelings would come back, but I uh I feel at peace” I said still looking at the waves

“I really like you” he blurted out

“I don’t think you do. You like the idea of me, but you don’t actually like me” I told him

“Stop hurting yourself by denying it. I fucking like you” he said shaking his head

“Matt, we haven't seen each other for four months. How can you just now say you like me” I said defeated

“Because I've always liked you, and I was so dumb to see that….it has always been you” he said

“Matt….” I said looking over at him

“It really has, and I’m such an idiot for taking so long to realize. I checked everyday if you’d be active on social media, if you’d comment on anything, my finger hovered over your contact. I so badly wanted to call you everyday, but I just couldn’t” he said shaking his head

“I’m glad you didn’t call.” I said to him

“What?” He said looking at me

“I feel like if you called me you would’ve kept me on this string of false hope. I needed to be away from you” I told him truthfully

“I was so stupid” he said

“It’s okay.” I said to him

“I want you, and only you” he said looking at me

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” I said looking at him

“I mean it okay! Stop pushing me away” he said getting a little upset

“I don’t want to get hurt again” I said looking down

“I would never do that to you….again” he said

“I don’t know” I said shaking my head

“Please Y/N” he said pleading

“Matt I don’t know that I see myself with you” I told him

“Kiss me, and tell me you don’t feel the same” he said

I looked up at him, looking into his eyes searching for an answer, but I didn’t find one.

I reluctantly leaned in and connected our lips. It was a kiss that made the whole world stop, it made all my problems float away….Its Matt it’s always been him, and I never wanted to pull away. With him I felt safe and loved

We pulled away, and looked at each other

“Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I will walk out of your life for good, and never bother you again” he said looking into my eyes

“Matt it’s you….it will always be you” I said smiling before pulling him in again, crashing our lips together

Kissing Matt felt like stepping outside into an empty field on a warm evening while watching a beautiful sunset overhead. This kid was my sunset….hes mine, he’s my safety net

“I’m never leaving you” he said rubbing my cheek

“I’d hope not” I said leaning into his touch

“Come home with me” he said

“Of course Matt” I whispered before we got up, and headed out to Matt’s car. Getting in and heading to the triplets house.

I guess Matt’s mine in this lifetime, and in another🪻

The End

I want to write another sad imagine, but nothing pertaining to death of the triplets….Im thinking like an actual….yk what let me not explain my ideas I wanna make yall cry 🤞🏽🤭 anywhooo hope you liked this one💋

-J💅🏽

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Sleepy Swap

I absolutely hate family vacations. Don't get me wrong, the vacation part is pretty nice. The fact that I'm with my family is the problem. Each year we go to some new crazy location, which would've been fun if they didn't embarrass me every single moment. Normally it's some dumb place within the states, but this time we're going out of the country. I turned 18 a few months ago and just graduated high school, so my parents thought it was a special occasion. Oh, it's going to be special all right - it's the last time I'll be forced to go with them! As soon as the summer's over, I'm moving across the state for college, and hopefully I'll never see them again! But for now, my parents set their sights on Brazil. I guess that's where they went on their first trip together. But I'd rather go to much cooler countries like France or Japan.

So, arriving in Brazil, we moved through the airport - me, my dad, mom, and little sister. There were so many hot guys and good looking people in general walking through the halls. I wanted to flirt with them so badly! But my parents would probably call the police if I went out of their sight for a single minute. We took a taxi and arrived at our hotel room. I found out that there were only 2 bedrooms - one for my parents and one for my little sister and I. I can't even jerk off in the privacy of my own bedroom anymore! I unpacked my stuff anyway, just as my mom walked into the room.

"Are you hungry, kids?" I hate being called a kid. I'm 18! Nobody seems to understand that I'm a legal adult now!

"Yeah," we both replied.

"How about we visit some of the local places to see some culture?"

"Lame," I said.

"Jackson, YOU are going to go with us and YOU are going to like it!" My mom ordered.

"Fine."

Outside the hotel, my dad arrived with our rental car. We drove through the streets but ended up parking in what looked like the poor part of town. I thought we were going to a nice restaurant?

"What the hell are we doing here?"

"Language, Jackson! This is what I was talking about! What better way to see the local culture than to visit the local marketplace?"

We got out and I looked around. The roads and buildings were all run down and there was a gross scent in the air. The marketplace was thriving anyway, but the people there were all ugly. No hot guys! We bought some kind of pastry, eating it at a nearby table. It tasted awful! When we finished, we all split up to explore the rest of the marketplace; I didn't even bother to look at anything else because I knew I wouldn't find anything good.

I walked down the road and saw an open garage-like area with some people inside. Outside sleeping in a chair, was an obese guy with a belly so big, it hung right out of his blue tank top, and covered his knees entirely! His belly button was so big, you could probably fit an entire fist in there! He was probably the grossest human being I've ever seen in my life! It was guys like that that made me feel at least somewhat grateful that I'm so young and skinny.

I walked right past and suddenly he grabbed my arm. His eyes stayed closed though, so I guess it was some form of sleepwalking. I was disgusted anyway, so I jumped backwards and shouted at him.

"Get away from me you disgusting slob!" 

He stayed asleep even after that. But I definitely needed to wash my arm now. Who knows what kind of diseases he was carrying? I started walking towards a restroom, when I felt like I was being watched. I looked to my right to see a creepy old lady staring at me from between two buildings. She was so hideous, she looked like a witch! I ran inside and quickly washed my hands. I walked out of the bathroom, only to come face to face with the witch lady.

"Ahh! Who are you?"

"You don't like your family do you?" Is she trying to relate to me or something? Gross! I answered her anyway.

"Yeah. So?"

"Would you do anything to get away from them?"

"Yeah I guess. What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. Nothing you need to worry about." Anger rushed to my brain and out my mouth.

"Nothing? You can't just ask about my problems then offer to do nothing! Get out of my face you old hag!" Her smile changed to an angry frown but then back to a smile.

"Very well, you want me to do something? I will do something." She took a piece or chalk and started drawing a circle around my feet.

"What? Are you using your witchy magic or something?" I said, sarcastically. She ignored me and continued. With a full circle of purple chalk around me, she put her hands together and started mumbling something. The circle below me was glowing! Not just that, but I was actually sinking into the ground! Is this some kind of portal? If I could teleport to my college campus that would be great! Even better, a gay bar or somewhere I can freely be myself!

I sunk lower and lower until it was just my head and neck sticking out.  I looked up at her and said "Thank you." For some reason, instead of a friendly smile, it seemed like an evil smirk. As my eyes were about to fully submerge into the ground, I closed them.

When I opened them back up, I was sitting down inside, but was disappointed that the same bad smell was in the air. Looks like she teleported me, but it wasn't very far. I knew that witch was full of shit. I guess I should find my family again; it had been an hour and they were probably worried. I tried to get up but something was wrong. I looked down to see what was keeping me grounded when my heart started thumping extremely fast. Gone was my slim body, which was replaced with an overly large hanging gut. What the fuck happened to me? Is it touching my knees? Wait, I recognize that gut! It can't be! I've turned into that one gross slob! Was this that witch's way of getting revenge?

I didn’t want to, but I felt compelled to touch the gut. Unlike before, he was completely shirtless so the massive hanging blubber was visible for everyone to see. I looked at my huge sausage fingers, and poked it. It jiggled. I took my whole hand and pressed into the flab over and over. My whole belly rippled like a body of water. It was actually kinda fun and felt nice. No, what am I doing? I gotta get my body back.

Trying to get up was the hardest part. I had to summon all my strength in order to force the weight of the gut off of me, and plant my feet on the ground as hard as I possibly could. When I got my ass out of the chair, gravity took hold of my gut and I nearly fell over. Slowly, I got myself back onto my feet.

I couldn't even see the bottom of my gut but I could feel it touching my knees! I grabbed the bottom of it and shook. I stuck my hands between the overhang and my waist, and felt a river of sweat hiding underneath. I swear if I ever get back to my body, I'll never insult any fat guy ever again!

I tried walking back to the same bathroom I was just at, but it was more like a waddle. The gut was swinging back and forth, slapping my knees every time, pain with each slap. My back was killing me too. My entire body ached! How did this guy let himself go this far? I squeezed through the door and saw my face for the first time in the mirror. I had gray hair and silver stubble. I was an old man! My whole face was huge and I had a double chin. This can't be happening. I'm only 18!

I walked out of the bathroom just as my family strolled by. Finally! For once I was happy to see them! It'll be weird but I'm sure they can help me get back to normal somehow. I waddled over, approaching them, and freaked out when I saw…me! There was a college aged guy who looked exactly like me alongside them. Is he the owner of the body I'm in? He must be!

"Hey it's you! You have my body!" Everyone turned around, surprised to see me. My parents narrowed their eyes.

"What? What's this about bodies? Who are you?" My dad demanded.

"Mom, Dad, its me, Jackson! There was a witch that swapped our bodies! That guy isn't me!"

"What? Who do you think you are, talking to my son that way? Get out of here creep!" The guy in my body pretended to be just as confused as they were. That liar! Instead of taking any action, they just walked away, shaking me off as just some homeless creep. They probably assumed I wouldn't be able to catch up to them…and they were right. I felt exhausted already, but managed to shout one last sentence at them.

"Wait c-come back! I'm sorry! I'll never complain about vacations again!" The guy who stole my body turned his head around and gave an evil smirk at me. I looked to my right to see the witch again.

"You wanted to be away from them and your wish was granted. Here, you might want this." She tossed me what looked like a shirt, but it was huge. "Paolo gets especially lazy sometimes and doesn't feel like putting on a shirt. You'll get used to it, but here's one just in case."

I wanted to argue but I couldn’t. I just…gave up. I was feeling tired so I slipped the shirt on, pulling it as far over my belly as I could, and waddled over back to the garage area. My knees were killing me at this point so I stood next to the chair I was sitting on earlier, rotated myself, and firmly plopped onto it. All the pain went away and I started feeling drowsy. I rolled up the shirt a little and stuck my finger inside my belly button, playing with it. Am I getting hard? I shouldn't be so turned on but I am! I then pressed my belly in, seeing and feeling the ripples until I finally fell asleep. Haha…Maybe this won't be so bad afterall. I'm finally away from my family, and I can just sleep the day away…everyday…

[wandaspillow]

But I heard them..

Natasha romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: y/n thought she heard people yelling for help, she went after all the people screaming for help but found no one there.

Warnings: sh, ed, yelling

Angst, fluff

A/n: I don’t know what this is.

Not a proofread. (Sorry)

Y/n’s POV:

I failed..again. But this time it was bad. Nat, Kate, Peter, and Yelena got hurt. All because I 'thought' I heard people screaming for help, and went to go look for them and left the others in danger.

And on the way back to the tower all Steve was doing was yelling at me..he didn't even notice when I flinched, and I flinched so hard I thought someone would notice..but they were all busy and worrying about the others that's got hurt.

And Steve was just telling me how it was my fault, how I was just hearing things, and should've stayed. So as soon as we got back I ran to my room, I ran past Maria and fury, and they saw my tears, they saw how I flinched when someone got up before me, they saw everything.

All they could do was wait until Steve told them what happened and when he did Nick didn't believe that you were lying about hearing people screaming for help. But they had no proof until they have your body cam footage.

As for me I was in my room, overthinking about what I did, I could've kill Nat or Yelena, and if I made one of the die, one of the wouldn't hated me forever. And they're like sisters to me but I don't think so anymore.

So I wanted to go say sorry, so I went to the med room where everyone was. Until someone got in my way... it was Steve, "what do you think you're doing?" He asked "I'm- im just going in to say sorry" I say in a whisper "no, not on my watch you can wait until they want to see you, and I don't think they do" he says coldly, as I try and hold my tears "oh- okk.." I say and walk to my room silently crying.

All I wanted was my sisters- wait they're not my sisters. I had one more person, but she's in space fighting aliens, trying to keep everyone safe. I just want her.. but I don't want to worry her and make her come for this dumb reason.

I went to my bathroom, I needed to fix this pain, I needed to do it again. And I found my razor, pulled up my long sleeve and dragged the blade across my skin. I didn't cry, I just sighed I felt something again. It was something better than anything I've felt for the past few days.

When I was done I cleaned myself up and went on my bed and started thinking. What if I never heard the screams, what if I just left it like that and the team would've never been mad at me. What if I never joined the avengers.

That was the last thing I thought before crying myself to sleep.

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Maria's POV:

As I was going to see Natasha and them, I heard sobs coming from y/n's bedroom. I put my ear on the door and heard her crying, and she never cry's, but it was around 12 in the morning so I was gonna ask her about it in the morning.

Everyone in the medical room was awake, and they got hurt badly. I asked everyone if they needed anything, and they said they were okay, so I went to talk to Steve about the y/n situation.

He told me that she heard people screaming for help, but when she got to were the screaming was no one was there, and it set an alarm. That's how the others got hurt, Steve told me that she when they got back she ran straight to her room, and didn't come for dinner.

That's when I was worried, because she knew that Steve didn't mention something, because why would she run to her room, she would've stayed by Nat or Yelena.

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THE NEXT DAY:

Y/n's POV:

I wake up from someone knocking on my door, "yes" I say in my morning voice, "hi honey, it Maria" Maria said and opened the door, to find me with red eyes and tear stain face.

"Oh sweetheart, what's wrong" she says closing the door and running to me and hugged me, "it's all my fault" you say with tears forming in your eyes. "No it isn't, honey." She says because she looked on your body came, and heard the screaming herself.

But the reason why there was no one there was cause  they used speakers around the room I was in and they sounded so real to her. "Yes it is, if I didn't go towards the screaming they would've- they would've been okay" I say between sobs.

"It's okay my sweet girl, you did nothing wrong, and Steve should have never yelled at you like that. I saw how hard you flinched on Steve's cam, and how no one noticed cause they were busy with the others. When you can home me and fury saw how you flinched when Steve got up, we saw how you ran to your room instead of being with your sisters-" she says and I cut her off when she says sisters

"They're not my sisters" I mumble, "what do you mean honey?." She asks "why would they want to be my family when I hurt them" "oh honey...why would they hate you, your there little spider they could never hate you" she says to clam me down.

But little did I know there's a mad Captain Marvel downstairs yelling at steve and everyone that blamed it on you.

Then Nat and Yelena came and knocked on your door, "little spider?" Nat says.

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Natasha's POV:

Me and Yelena wonder why you haven’t came to see us, "Nat why hasn't she came?" Yelena asked I shrugged my shoulders and said "I don't know, but I hope she's okay, We both know she hates hurting people”

As we sat in my bedroom we heard yelling, and it didn't sound like a man, it sounded like a woman. So we ended up going to see who it was, they were in the room where we normally have team meetings.

We walked in a saw a mad Captain Marvel yelling at Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Sam then I looked at the tv and it was someone's body cam footage. Then she said her name, y/n's, then I looked up and made eye contact with her and she didn't look happy, but she nodded her head and looked up to the tv.

And that's when I knew it was her body cam that on the tv, I heard the screams for help, I saw how she flinched when Steve was yelling at her. And that's when I left the room and went to y/n's.

As I got there I heard muffled crying, "little spider?" I say and heard someone come up to the door but it wasn't y/n it was Maria. She came outside and let us in and gave us a sad smile then left.

"little spider?" Yelena says as we walked through ur door.

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Y/n's POV:

I lift my head up and look at them, the redhead and blonde haired looked at me with a sad smile and came to my bed. "Sweetheart what's wrong?" Yelena asked me "why are you guys here" I say not answering her question.

"Because your our sister" Yelena says and I looked up and made eye contact, "I don't think you'd wanna be my sister, I hurt you guys" I mumbled knowing they could hear anyway.

"Oh my little spider..you will always be our sister no matter what" Nat says as she wipes your tears, "really?" You say and look at them "really, cause you're our little spider" Yelena says and I smile.

"But I think someone's here that we know you've missed a lot." Nat says, "who?" I ask and then she walks in.

The person you saved me before Nat and Lena did, the person I called mom on accident, the person I can tell anything to, Carol Danvers.

"Auntie Carol?.." I say and got off my bed and ran up to her, "hi my sweet girl, how are you feeling?" She asked "I'm- I'm okay" I say and hug her tight and she giggled.

"I just had to talk to Steve and that okay, so you're not going to do any mission until you're ready, okay?" She says and I nod.

"I missed you some much" I say and she kisses my forehead, "me too my sweet girl, now I know for a fact that you haven't slept in a few days sooo we are going to have a good nap, okay?" She says.

"How do you know?" I asked, "look at your eyes honey you have dark circles under them, and you don't normally have them."

She says and takes me to my bed, Nat and Lena left but before they did they said bye to me and Carol. Carol put on a movie and I just cuddled with her and fell asleep, it was one of the best sleeps I had in ages.

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NO ONES POV:

After that day, you haven't been on that many missions only when they needed you. Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Sam apologise to you when you came out of your room with Carol.

Nat and Lena have been helping you with training, and Wanda has been helping you with your powers. After a few months you decided to do some more missions with the team, and by yourself.

But what the team or anyone didnt know, your nightmares were coming back. And they got worse every night. Most of the time it was just you in the redroom, but then the hydra ones came and they were way worse.

Most of the time you wouldn't sleep, you'd just look at the wall and you'd still remember everything. So you started making yourself busy and doing a lot more missions, and when I mean a lot, I mean the rest of the had barely had any.

Until someone noticed and it wasn't the person who you thought would.

My Masterlist.

[eventinelysplayground]

Shattered

This is my second last fic for my 50 follower event and was requested by the delightful @fang-and-feather whose ask I put up on Tuesday if you want to take a look. This fic was hard to get the idea for but then I ended up getting an element I wanted and built two different ideas around that that weren't working so I dissected them and took parts of both along with the element and here it is. I had a lot of fun with this one, it felt like I could be a bit more daring with it in a way. I also switch pov at the end but it's mostly in Comtes. I hope you enjoy the fic Fang and thanks so much for the congrats and all your support especially when I first started out you have no idea how much it meant to me. An outing, a memory and one bad action tempt Comte. Mentions of alcohol, suspected infidelity, pregnancy and blood, WC approx 1929.

The night was warm with the subtle scent of flowers carried on the wind as the moon danced in and out between the clouds. Comte stood alone on the balcony, a glass in one hand and a half empty bottle of whiskey on the top rail. He had managed to outrun his thoughts since this afternoon but now in the stillness of the night he was at their mercy.

She looked absolutely stunning this afternoon, her smile was so radiant.

Comte took a long sip from his glass then let out a short self deprecating chuckle.

Really, this is unbecoming of me. It was all my own choices, I have no one else to blame. It's for the best anyway I would only have ruined her life.

When he had first started to notice that Mitsuki and Arthur were developing feelings for eachother he said nothing, believing his own feelings for her nothing but a passing desire that would be quickly forgotten. He'd had more than his fair share of romances just like that in even his long lifetime and yet…yet as time continued forward he realized just how wrong he was.

Mitsukis appearance at the mansion had brought a light and joy to their lives. She had touched all their hearts but only Arthur had been able to touch hers. Every time he witnessed them together, their happiness, devotion, love for one another, the warmth he felt to see her so happy warred with an ugly darkness in his heart. The darkness only grew as time went on and Mitsuki got even closer to him.

She certainly did manage to work her way past all my walls without even trying. She's always reached out and tried to see the best in everyone even then….

‘What were you thinking!?’

‘I knew you were a filthy klootzak but this is low even for you.’

‘Didn't think you'd be the type to settle down but I hoped for cara mias sake that I was wrong.’

‘How did you not even make it six months!?’

‘Newt, What the bloody hell are you all going on about!?’

‘You're going to play dumb?’

Theo had moved to grab Arthur by the lapels and Comte had been the one to stop him.

‘Calm down all of you, let's see if Arthur has anything to say at least.’

‘Anything to say to what? I don-’

‘You better think of something better than that after the way cara mias been crying.’

‘Wait, Mitsuki is upset? What happened?’

‘Like you don't know.’

‘Arthur enough games-’

‘I swear Comte I'm not playing any g-’

Arthur's eyes had gone wide with a sudden revelation.

‘Mitsuki!’

Arthur went to run past them up the stairs but Napoleon caught him by the arms.

‘Damn it all, let go Leon! I swear to all of you this isn't what you think. That bird was-’

‘Choose your next words very carefully Arthur.’

Comtes eyes were cold and voice commanding.

‘That bird was someone I had spent a few nights with years ago before Mitsuki ever arrived. She had gone overseas, family issues or something I honestly don't remember but she's been gone for years and just got back and-’

‘And she's been gone long enough she had no idea.’

‘Exactly! I was coming back from my publishers when she just bloody well threw herself into my arms and started kissing me. I mean do you all really not know me better than that? I've answered enough of your questions, I need to see Mitsuki.’

‘Let him go Napoleon but Arthur, you best be telling the truth, for your own sake if not for hers.’

Comte recalled that the whole mansion was tense that night and they all took turns keeping an ear out for any hint of trouble from a respectable distance. After a few hours Leonardo had come down smirking and declaring that ‘any screaming now wouldn't be from anger’. It had only been about eight months prior and the emotions that just the memory of that incident brought forward caused Comte to smash his glass on the top rail littering it with glass.

She's too good and pure for him. Forgiving him after hurting her like that even if it was unintentional, and now be giving him a child after it all.

Comte sighed and looked down at the broken glass.

Well now, that wasn't very mature of me. I should be happy that she forgave him and they're able to continue to be so happy…

Comte lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips, drinking back the last of its contents. He looked up into the night sky smiling as his thoughts returned to the afternoon.

‘Don't you think that this is all a bit much?’

‘Whatever do you mean?'

‘I mean you've bought multiple things from every store we've been in today! I didn't need those new dresses and on top of that you're also spoiling this baby before it even gets here!’

‘Nonsense Cherie, I could never dote on you or the child enough to ever come close to spoiling either of you. You deserve all of it and more.’

‘Really I-'

Suddenly they had both heard soft laughter from nearby. When Comte turned around there was an older woman standing there smiling fondly at them.

‘Just let him do as he pleases dearie, if your husband's anything like mine was nothing you say will deter him.’

‘Oh but he’s-’

‘Listen to her words of wisdom ma Cherie, plus have you ever been able to convince me before?’

‘Well no…’

‘If it makes you feel better dear , think of it as payment for the hard work soon to come.’

‘Who are you bothering now?’

The older woman clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

‘I’m not bothering anyone, I was just telling the young dear here to accept as many gifts as her husband desired to provide her and their child with.’

The old gentleman who had approached quickly cast an appraising look over Mitsuki then Comte noticed his lips turning up into a faint yet fond smile.

‘A word of advice son, pace yourself unless you don't mind spending all your wealth spoiling them.’

‘See he agrees with me, you're spoiling them already.’

‘I still say you should let him.’

‘Hahaha of course you would, come my dear leave the young couple to enjoy themselves.’

‘If you insist, oh but wait! Congratulations to you both.’

‘Comte, why didn't you correct them?’

‘Hmmm? Is the thought of being married to me that horrible?’

‘No, of course not! I didn't mean-’

‘Haha it’s alright cherie, honestly they just seemed happy and besides it didn't cause any harm’

‘I suppose not.’

It was nice to dream if only for a brief moment. If I hadn't dismissed my feelings, not been afraid to lose what we did have then maybe…

“Comte?”

The sudden voice startled Comte and he turned towards the door.

“Cherie, what are you doing up so late?”

“Sleeping is becoming incredibly difficult lately and this heat isn't helping. What about you, could you not sleep?”

I wish it were that simple.

“Something like that, come let me take you back inside.”

“No, I'd prefer to stay out here. The breeze is really cool and-”

“Cherie don't-”

“Ouch!”

Comtes warning came too late as Mitsuki placed her hand on top of the shards of broken glass. Blood began to trickle down her palm and fingers momentarily freezing him to the spot.

“I'm so sorry, Comte! I should have been more careful.”

Comte said nothing, his gaze fixed on the trails of blood while the rest of him desperately fought the intense burning in his throat.

“I should go and get-”

“No!”

“Comte?”

Comte closed the small distance between them staring down at Mitsukis bloodied hand for a moment before lifting it upwards.

Maybe it wouldn't have to be a dream.

Comte lifted Mitsukis hand higher to his lips and lapped at her blood before sinking his fangs into her soft flesh. The taste of her blood on his tongue as it passed over it and down his throat was heavenly and sweet. He felt her knees begin to give and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist as he-

“Comte!?”

Comte shook his head slightly as he was pulled back to reality, he held Mitsukis hand dangerously close to his lips. She was looking at him with wide eyes filled with fear and confusion.

I just need another minute... to compose myself.

Comte took his free hand and removed a shared of glass from Mitsukis palm before removing a handkerchief and pressing it into her slightly trembling fingers.

“There doesn't appear to be any more glass in the wound.”

“Thank you for checking.”

Comte could tell Mitsuki was relaxing again and so he released her hand and started walking towards the door.

“Wait here cherie. I'll go and fetch a first aid kit and send Arthur or Sebastian out with it. We wouldn't want you to wander into any of the other residents like that.”

“Alright.”

Comte left the balcony without another word or a backward glance. His throat was burning out of control and his mind was racing.

That was too close, how could I have scared her like that! She looked so frightened and-

“Luv? Oh Comte, sorry old chap I thought I smelled-”

Comte looked down at his hand and noticed he had traces of Mitsukis blood on him.

“She's fine Arthur, just a bad cut. I was actually on my way to get a first aid kit then find you or Sebastian.”

“Where is she?”

“On the balcony.”

Comte watched Arthur head off down the hallway towards the balcony for a moment then continued on to his own room where he locked the door behind him.

Arthur found Mitsuki standing on the balcony cradling her hand, one of Comtes handkerchiefs pressed against it.

“What happened luv?”

“Arthur! I just cut myself on some glass that's all.”

Arthur took in the scene before him and put together with what Mitsuki told him of her and Contes outing and the way he looked it made his eyebrows furrow.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“Yes, Comte took the shard of glass out and then gave me his handkerchief.”

Arthur let go of a breath he wasn't aware he was holding as he inspected Mitsukis hand. Finding no shards he began to wrap her palm.

“Once the bleeding has mostly stopped I'll clean and wrap it properly for you. It shouldn't take long, now come here.”

Arthur pulled Mitsuki towards him, placing a kiss to the top of her belly before turning her away from him and wrapping his arms tightly around her. They stood there in silence for awhile when Mitsuki suddenly tilted her head upwards.

“Was Comte ok?”

“Why do you ask luv?”

“He seemed….hurt.”

Arthur sighed remembering the fevered look in Comtes eyes and glimpse of his fangs he had caught during their brief exchange.

“It's nothing that won't heal with time.”

“Are you sure?”

Arthur looked down at Mitsuki and saw the concern in her eyes. He wasn't sure at all but he couldn't bear to tell her that so he smiled and kissed the top of her nose.

“The old chap is stronger than he looks so don't worry about him, just focus on this right now.”

Arthur moved his hands to caress over Mitsukis belly and she laughed.

“Alright Arthur, I trust you.”

I really do hope his willpower holds out but regardless… I know we'll both do what we need to do to keep you safe.

[saturnluvva]

IFHY

pairing: fem!reader + enemy!mattsturniolo

warnings: angst, cussing, jealousy?

blue - matt

pink - reader / y/n

orange - Chris

purple - Nick

summary: when matts biggest enemy y/n starts talking to a boy from his hockey team matt gets jealous.

A/N: I hate this. also, might make this a 2 Parter or a series.

- Matt's POV -

I've hated y/n my whole life she was so difficult to get along with. she was either always talking about boys or makeup which are the most boring things ever. it always confused me on how my brothers even tolerated her as much as they did but I guess that was none of my business.

"EARTH TO MATTHEW" nick yelled in my ear like the idiot he is. "Huh?' I replied I was acting like I didn't hear him at first, but I really didn't Wanna believe what he said 'y/n is moving to LA for the next 2 months!" Me, Chris, and Nick moved to LA about a year or two ago because of our YouTube channel.

I hated how Nick and Chris were friends with y/n because that's mean that I couldn't escape her whether it was a short visit, or a long call made by nick.

"wh-" before I could even say what I had to there was a ring at our door "is that her?!" Chris asked as he ran down the stairs. nick shrugged and went to open the door. there she was the worst person in the world.

- Y/NS POV -

I saw nick and Chris opening the door to their house the first thing I did when i saw nick was giving him a big hug since it felt like forever since id seen him. and I hugged Chris right after even Though he kind of smelled like blue cheese. right after I hugged Chris, I saw him. I put our past behind and walked up to him "hey" but i was met with silence and a look that made me feel uneasy `what do you want" finally he spoke. was it the words I wanted? no but it was good from him "hi. how are yo-" he walked away. he always did this maybe it was his way of thinking he's won the argument. but I wasn't arguing with him this time. "what's his pr-" I heard him slam his door. 'Bitch..." I thought to myself. "That doesn't matter! let's catch up for a while until matt learns not to be a dickhead!" I laughed. nick was always the funnier triplet he always knew what to say and when to say. I spent next two hours catching up with Nick and Chris it was really nice I had talked about all the new people and boys I'd met.

- Matt's POV -

as soon as I came out of my room to get something to eat, I heard that annoying bitch "yeah there's this new guy I'm talking to! his names Austin" Austin. I'd always hated Austin I never knew why though. maybe it was his hair. his smile. his face. or his attitude. he'd always just rubbed me the wrong way. but now he's "talking" to y/n I hate him even more for that. not because I like her or anything it was because he never kept a relationship for more than a month and knowing how much of a crybaby y/n is I just know that once the relationship ends, she's gonna come to nick and Chris crying and I'll never hear the end of it. it felt like he was plotting on me, and I hated it a little more than I hated him and y/n.

- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

it was 12:00am which was usually the time Chris and Nick were asleep, so I went downstairs to get some leftovers of the canes we had bought earlier. but as soon as I reached the last step, I saw y/n in the living room and walked up to the couch where she was sitting "why are you up so late..." she had jumped from the sound of my voice "just not tired" bullshit. I'd seen her phone in her hand already "texting Austin?" I'd had the biggest smirk ever.

- Y/NS POV -

there he was with that dumb smirk on his ugly face. "No! why would I be doing that?'' "I'm a great liar!" I thought "you're a horrible liar" dammit. "What do you even see in him?" dumb question "he's actually nice to me."

"You should go to sleep. c'mon" "why?" "You know the rule." shit. the rule was that I could only sleep in Nick and Chris's rooms if I go to bed at the same time as them. I've always hated his rule but who was I to break it? exactly. "fine" I rolled my eyes and stood up

I'd l laid down next to him in his bed with my back facing him I didn't mind sleeping in his bed it was the fact that it was his bed.

the curiosity was killing me "so... how many women have you fucked on this bed?" "50" "ew!' I instantly jumped up from his bed and he started laughing. 'I'm kidding." "Maybe like 3 or 4 depends on if you count me actually Cumming at the end" "freak" I was actually disgusted even if he was joking.

"You asked" I ignored him. he was right but I wasn't gonna give the satisfaction of knowing that and he knew it.

I gasped as I felt him lean over me "what?' "You know Austin's only gonna break your heart?' "Shut up." "Nah I'm good sis." I rolled my eyes. it was hard dealing with matt because if he wasn't being a dickhead and annoying the shit out of me, he was being a sassy asshole.

[ddoxhan]

letters from me to you

every letter you didn't send to jimin

word count : 0.9k words

genre : angst; you loved jimin more than you ever imagined, and it hurts that you still do; non-idol! karina x gn! reader

t/w : none :) other than a relationship breaking apart and there's absolutely nothing that can be done about it

a/n : unrequited love, something so ever ethereal yet burns a hole in your heart and leaves a scar you will never forget. but does it hurt more when it becomes unrequited? since it wasn't from the beginning, and you had a taste of that person's love.

— 26/01/2014 | sunny ☀️

to my dearest jimin,

happy first anniversary! it's been 12 months, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525,600 minutes since you said yes under those bright stars on this very day last year. time has gone past so fast yet so slow, when I look into your eyes, everything around us seems to slow down and allow me to drown myself in those galaxy-like orbs of yours. you know I've never been expressive with my words hence this letter but still, I can never find the very words to convey my love to you. however, these four words might actually just do the trick.

I love you, forever.

your love

—  11/04/2015 | spring sun 🌸

to my crybaby jimin,

don't get mad just from reading 'crybaby' but I can't help but call you that. not after you so adorably sniffled while watching 'the notebook'. I just wanted to squeeze those cheeks of yours but I knew you were going to be upset for breaking the mood, so I held myself back. okay, this was definitely not the purpose of this letter, but oh well, I just wanted you to know you're the cutest.

happy birthday, my baby jimin! once my baby, forever my baby. I hope you had a blast today after been to the amusement park, cafes and even the late night movie later before the end of your big day. I have never been more blessed with a gift like you to be in my life and better, as my girlfriend.

once again, happy birthday. let's spend this day together in the years that are to come. I love you, forever.

your beloved

— 08/07/2015 | cloudy ☁️

to my precious jimin,

I know I'm in the wrong so I am not going to make up any excuses to justify what I did. you felt hurt and neglected by my actions and nothing can ever undo those wounds. but will you let me make it up to you? if you need time to think, take as long as you need because I'll be right here waiting until you give me a chance to prove my love for you that never faded. if anything, I only find myself loving you more than I did the day before.

work has doubled in amount but I should have known to try harder to spend time with you despite that. it is my responsibility to do that, yet I chose the easy way out and hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me. I love you so so much, I love you, forever.

your dumb bear (still in regret)

— 17/03/2016 | rainy 🌧️

to my wonderful and amazing jimin,

there is nothing special about today, surprise! although there isn't a special occasion today, I want to let you know that every day that I spend with you is special and every moment we have together is engraved in memory forever no matter what happens.

I know I can be cheesy but I feel like every time I tell you that I love you, it just feels more overwhelming and unbelievable. so unbelievable that I have the most beautiful; in and out; person in the whole world as my girlfriend. it would be better if one day, it would change to my wife. I can already tell how your face would start burning up and the tip of your ears cutely beet red. even though I had told you I love you numerous times, it never feels enough. I love you, forever.

yours forever

—  02/10/2017

to my lovely jimin,

it's been five years since we've been together, and I know how you are when something or someone upsets you. if you don't talk to me or even be next to me, I would not know what to say or do to help you, honey. we promised to never go to bed with complicated feelings, regardless of whether it be about us or someone else. you said it is not good for the health if we keep our feelings bottled up.

if it's about me, please, please tell me what I did wrong. tell me what I need to fix so that you would not be upset. please, talk to me, jimin. let me be by your side as I always did. I love you, forever.

—  19/01/2018

to my one and only jimin,

please take me back, I love you so much. please don't leave me all alone in this shared home of ours. it's too painful to see the memories of us, filled with happiness and joy. let me still call us, us. please, please come home and whisper sweet nothings like you used to, say that everything was all a prank. that you went overboard with the joke. please bring me into your embrace and stroke my back, tell me everything's alright, we're alright.

I love you, jimin, you know that right? I love you, forever.

yours

.

.

.

.

you know, I've always imagined us walking down the aisle as I take you in my hand and swear the oath to be each other's seasons, side by side all the way through our future days together. but sadly, all I could do now was clap for you, your happiness with your lover, staring at each other so lovingly on the pedestal. if you were happy, so would I be.

because I've always loved and will love you forever, my jimin.

[spurgie-cousin]

one part of adhd that i really hate is just knowing there's people out there that think of you as an unreliable or careless person 😕 like how i perceive time and the passing of time has been an issue since i was a kid, i was always chronically late to things (and still am sometimes) so a lot of ppl i know have running jokes about that, but some of them like my family definitely don't understand the connection bt the two things so i know there's sometimes actual anger and frustration behind the jokes. and that they just probably think im a selfish person who doesn't care about other people's time when in reality ive bawled in my car on the way to an event i was supposed to be at 20 mins ago so many times bc i felt like i tried so hard not to do that and just something went wrong, again.

i also lose stuff constantly and throughout my life i've lost some pretty important things, which not only makes me feel awful but makes people who don't understand just assume i'm a careless moron who doesn't understand the value of things when literally nothing could be further from the truth bc i went through a period of being broke as shit for years....so if anything i really feel like i place too much value on some things bc subconsciously I'm worried that if something happens to it I won't be able to fix or replace it. if I didn't live with someone else who kept me in check I'm almost certain there are things I'd like, hoard.

idk sometimes i try to explain the connection to these kinds of things to people and you can just see it in their face that they don't really believe you and might think you're just trying to come up with excuses. and it makes me want to be so defensive bc i try sooooooo hard all the time and it's so upsetting when you're doing that and STILL having these issues‼️ like the fight to convince myself that I'm trying to cope with a disorder and I'm not inherently just bad and dumb after actually believing that for nearly 3 decades is an every day uphill battle so 🥲 to know a lot of people would agree with my past self and can't understand that is hard

[skayafair]

Scared Vi

The thing I was finally able to put into a thought and into words after staring at gifs for 2 hours straight: throughout all the post-timeskip Arcane Vi is fucking scared of everything that's going on around her. AND she's on the brink of losing it pretty often. I need to rewatch (no idea when I'll be brave enough to ride this rollercoaster again) but I didn't notice it while watching, because, WELL, there was already TOO MUCH to take in, so some more subtle details escaped me. I've caught that Vi is very vulnerable in her honesty, openness and straightforwardness, but that wasn't all to it, and it bothered me! Because all three don't ooze the vulnerability 24/7 and that's what Vi looks like to me nearly all the time!

So I was wondering.

And here's the answer. She's been suddenly released out of her cell into the world that is now completely unknown to her. Yes the air of freedom is great, and she enjoys it, but at the same time there's always this frightened undertone.

She's constantly on the edge.

Not in the least because when things that used to be familiar, like your home, ones you used to know like the back of your hand, change but not completely, it's the worst trap of all, the most confusing and anxiety inducing. How much of what you remember is still the same? How much changed? Can you trust its exterior even if it looks the same? Or would it betray you in the worst possible moment? How do new things work? How do they work WITH the old things? I've experienced it once coming back to my former workplace that changed quite a lot but no one bothered to fill me in so I was piecing together the information for a YEAR. And I might not be the brightest but I'm not dumb either. I'm pretty good with systems. It was BAD.

So I can't imagine how much worse and disoriented Vi must have felt. And Caitlyn took her out of jail to SHOW HER AROUND. Having no idea how the world Vi used to know so well changed just in several years. So she's on a look out all the time. And her eyes, her expression betrays her put up exterior of confidence and maybe even arrogance, leaking this anxiety and straight up fear almost all the time.

She looks like a frightened, lost little girl. And when she doesn't, she looks like a desperate teenage girl who tries to punch her way out of every problem because she's backed into a corner and that's the only way she knows, even if it never helps. (No seriously, the only time it helped was against Silco's thugs and EVEN THEN they weren't completely dealt with and kept causing problems straight up to the bridge fighting scene. Vi's fists kept her alive and safer but they never SOLVED anything.)  

I think the way she looks just SCREAMS fear and anxiety when she and Powder/Jinx fight back to back after the torch scene. Jinx looks like she's completely in her element, she knows these guys, she's been in situations like this time after time. It's habitual. She's very confident and almost careless there, moves freely, she knows what she's doing. She might even enjoy it. Vi, on the opposite... Vi, who's all about loose body language, free movement and such - nearly curls up into a ball against Jinx's back, keeping her fists and elbows close to herself. Vi NEVER looked like this again, I think. I... believe she was the most thrown off kilter back then. She finally found her most treasured and the only remaining piece of her past - her sister, and sure, lil Powpow changed, she had to survive, but she's still Vi's little sister!

Right?..

Wrong. Powder-Jinx back then is the quintessence of the trap Zaun is to Vi now: familiar pieces are all there, they're recognizable even if a bit changed, but you never know what lurks under the surface.

And gods does Jinx just demolish every last bit of the ground Vi was standing on. It's not even when Jinx goes full on unhinged, it's when she simply starts blasting bullets all around. When she fights and she's confident in what she does. Vi doesn't know this girl. Vi doesn't know this gang flying around. I bet she doesn't even know this TECHNOLOGY because the world made a whole leap technologically while she was stuck in her cell isolated from pretty much everything. It's like a literal time skip for her. And she doesn't know what to trust, so she can't trust anything no matter how much she wants to. And she HAS to want it, because she looked genuinely hopeful fresh out of Stillwater. Before she saw what her home turned into. Silco really did bring the monster out of it, not just himself or Jinx or shimmer junkies. The whole city. So Vi looks small, and frightened, and I think she's even panicking back in that scene.

She's ready to snap at any moment.

It's very interesting to me, because she looks tough and very mentally healthy on the surface but boooy are there mountains hidden underneath.

Vi does snap, actually. Several times. Her voice cracks as she's trying to convince Ekko she's THE Vi, same she used to be. She charges at Sevika TWICE. I think second time was much worse btw. She literally downs a drink IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT - I don't think it was out of mental stability. And, well, the cry in the end. She won, and it helped nothing again. Even her mental state. Another fragile moment with Vi is the way she looks around her sister. Vi is confident and action-charged by nature, she's energetic and isn't shy to take up space. So she never looks small... except when she's around Jinx. She's drowning in guilt, and this guilt is spilling out.

Interestingly enough, scenes when Vi DOESN'T have this scared/guilty/anxious/desperate look is around Cait. She's either playful, or actually confident, or even RELAXED. Which is... wow, all things considered. Part of it is a put up facade, of course, but only in the beginning. The ship sails itself huh...

A lot of people pointed out Caitlyn is about future in Vi's life centered around the past, but I think what's more important is that Cait is about the present. Plus, she's a familiar - an enforcer, a topside - turned unfamiliar in a GOOD way.

Gods once again I'm baffled at the level Arcane is thought through. These are subtle, small details, expressions that aren't exposed or accentuated like many other ones. They are underlying, but once you notice them it's a whole new tapestry unfolding right before your eyes.

As you can see, I'm very normal about Arcane and Vi in particular, yup, totally cool 😌👌✨

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

gotta make you understand

throwback to late 2020/early 2021, my small stories series is back!! i've got a few more prompts left that i'm going to try to write soon 👀

AO3!

Summary: Janus is pretty sure Virgil's avoiding them because he hates them. It is... not that. Warnings: none Wordcount: 549

“Wait, what?”

Janus shifted uncomfortably. “I just… want to know what I did wrong? You don’t have to tell me.”

“You didn’t do anything!” Virgil told him, scouring his brain for why Janus would think he hated them.

He did have a tendency to flip his hood up when he was around to hide any potential blushing that made its way past his foundation, which he guessed could be seen as an intimidation thing or something? Maybe like ‘I don’t want to look at your face so I’m going to put my hood in the way?’

And he hardly ever talked around Janus, too scared of fumbling his words to say anything, which Virgil could see being flipped into ‘I hate you and don’t want to talk to you.’ And he did sometimes, occasionally, go out of his way to avoid Janus. (Only because he’s sure every time he runs into them he’s going to embarrass himself horribly, even though usually it doesn’t end up nearly as bad as that. Stupid anxiety brain.)

So Virgil kind of got where Janus is coming from, which made this even more embarrassing.

“You didn’t do anything,” Virgil repeated. “I just… was being dumb. Sorry.”

Janus raised an eyebrow (how did he do that; Virgil’s a little jealous, very impressed, and so gay) and drawled, “Really. Because you avoiding me and refusing to talk to me unless I force you is just… you being dumb, and I haven’t done anything at all to upset you or make you hate me or anything. Sure.” They sighed and hugged their arms around himself, looking away. “I already said you didn’t have to tell me; you don’t have to lie.”

“I didn’t—” Virgil fidgeted in place. He could and should just tell him now, so c’mon—

Janus sighed again. “Right.” They turned to go.

“Janus, wait!” Virgil almost shouted. They paused but didn’t turn to look at him, and Virgil took a deep breath, balling his hands into fists. “The only thing that you’ve done wrong,” he ground out, “is be so stupidly pretty around me. So. Yeah. I’m just being dumb.”

Janus turned back and searched his face, which Virgil was sure was glowing by now. He wanted to flip up his hood, look away, take some of the heat off, but he needed them to know he meant it, so he forced eye contact. 

He felt himself getting antsier and antsier as Janus stayed silent. Their arms uncrossed and fell to their sides, was that a good thing? Was the stunned expression a positive one? Had he just taken the last tatters of their friendship and lit them on fire?

“Oh,” Janus finally breathed.

“Oh?” Virgil immediately regretted how aggressive he sounded.

“Well, I understand that you don’t hate me, now,” Janus said, arms crossing again. “But I think you owe me for making me think that for so long.”

“Okay?” That was plenty fair; Virgil felt terrible about that. “What can I do?”

Janus hummed thoughtfully, tapping his lips. Virgil was pretty sure they’d already decided what they wanted and were just drawing it out.

“Take me on a date,” they finally declared.

“Oh.” Virgil felt like the air was punched out of him. Was this what being high felt like?

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

[gaybananabread]

hey! i saw your craig and tweek piece, and i loved it ahah, i was wondering if you write for south park, and if u do can we get ler! craig and lee! tweek?? like if tweek is struggling with his anxiety and craig cheers him up. if not its all good, hope u have a good day/night, take care of yourself ^^

Damn, this was a throwback. Been awhile since I've done anything South Park, hope you enjoy!

Ler: Craig

Lee: Tweek

Summary: Tweek's anxiety was rampant, his nerves completely shot. Craig helps him calm down, and have a good laugh.

Warnings: swearing (of course). This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!

He couldn't belive it. His parents, his legal guardians, left him home alone for the week. True, he was 16, but that's a lot of responsibility! He could forget to lock the doors, someone could break in, steal his families prized possessions, and then the house is on fire! On top of all that, he still had school!

He stumbled through getting ready, his shirt-buttoning skills even worse than usual. Tweek didn't even bother with his hair, knowing the comb would do more harm than good. He didn't see the time, and almost missed his bus.

Craig's day was pretty average. His family were their normal level of assholes, annoying but manageable. When he saw Tweek before school, he knew it would be a long day. The blonde was crawling in his skin, flinching at every noise, and jittering like he had seven expresso shots. While that was probably true, he needed help to wind down. Lucky for him, Craig's got a plan.

...

School was over, along with Tweek's composure. He was on the verge of a breakdown when Craig walked over to him. "Hey, I'm coming over your house." No room for argument or overthinking. The boy flinched away, nervously laughing. "Hehe, sure, w-why not? It's not like a millLIONn things can g-go wrOng!" Craig clapped his shoulder, guiding him to the bus. The driver didn't care enough to question why a new kid jumped on.

The ride was quiet, aside from the tapping of Tweek's foot. Craig put his headphones on, listening to music. He sat his hand on the blonde's leg, trying to ground him. It sort of worked, but he was still a nervous wreck.

When they arrived at his house, Tweek fumbled with the keys, dropping them a few times. Craig helped, holding his hand and guiding the keys in. They tossed their bags in a closet and sat on the couch, deciding to watch a movie. At least, they tried.

"What about Jurassic Park ?" Tweek shook his head, going on a rant. "No! Th-those movies have a lot of nOIse, what if someone thinks w-we're in trouble and calls the COPS!" Craig rolled his eyes, moving past the fifth shot-down idea. This is getting old.

He grabbed Tweek's shoulders and pinned him to the couch, looking him dead in the eyes. "Dude, CHILL OUT! I know you've got some issues, but this is getting outta hand." He poked his stomach, trying to get his point across. What he didn't expect was the squeak he got.

"Damn, I forgot how ticklish you are." Tweek blushed, trying to hide his face.This is perfect!  What better way to let go than with laughter! He pinned his hands beneath his knees, getting a better grip. Tweek twisted and pulled, but he was trapped.

"H-hey! Craig, this is so stuhuEEehehehehe!" Craig wasted no times, skittering his fingers across Tweek's belly. His poorly buttoned shirt allowed Craig's fingers to slip in and get his bare stomach. For once, the dumb buttons helped him. "CrahaHAIG! QUIHIHIT ihihit!"

The beanied-bastard felt like teasing. "Nah, you're waaaay too cute like this." Tweek just hid his face in his shoulder, trying to hide the rosy blush on his face. Craig moved his hand up, finding a sweet spo/ bear the top of his ribs. Tweek's giggles turned into laughter, the tickles getting five times worse. "Man, this must really tickle, huh? Sucks to be you right now."

Tweek was conflicted. He was enjoying himself, but Craig was super flustering! The tickles felt amazing, distracting him from his anxious thoughts. However, the teases were turning his brain to mush! "QUHIHIHIT TEHEASING MEHEHEHE!" Craig just rolled his eyes.

"Tickles come at a price. No teases, no tickles." Tweek whined through his laughter, shaking his head. He tugged at his hands, but they were very much stuck. He was starting to get tired.

Craig saw this, and leaned down. He was so close that his breath tickled Tweek's ear. "I'm gonna do one more thing. Buckle up, Jitters." He whipped upwards, lifted Tweek's shirt, and blew a huge raspberry on his poor belly. He burst out laughing, bucking his hips. "CRAHAHAHAHAHAIG!  IHIHIT'S SO BAHAHAHAD!"

He blew a few smaller ones, skittering his fingers up and down Tweek's sides. After a few seconds of this awesomeness torment, he let up, climbing off of Tweek. The boy immediately curled into a ball, laughing off the ghost sensations on his torso. He kicked Craig's leg, getting a poke to the side.

"Ihi'm tired. W-wanna wahatch Frozen?" Craig laughed, turning on the movie. Tweek snuggled up next to him, pulling a blanket over them. Within the first half hour, they were both asleep, smiles on their faces.

[livingintheupsidedown]

Be Patient

Steve Harrington x Reader

[1.3k] - After everything that happened at Starcort, Steve's struggling more than he realised.

Warning - PTSD kinda? steve suffering with the effects from season 3, a few swears, arguing, steve throws a couple things.

A/N - this is based off the song "Avo Toast" by Clinton Kane, lyrics have been used as a reference and are marked in bold, although they may not be in the same order as the song. this is mainly set at the end of season 3. i also dk if i even like this but that's life

There are days when it feels like the world comes crashin'

And I've been numbin' the pain just to keep distracted

Of all the things I would fade

You're the one that's lasted

Steve woke to the same throb in his head as he did every morning, weighing him down before he even attempted to move. His whole body feels heavy, muscles stuck unable to loosen. His eyes slowly adjusting to the light that was shining in from the window, beams of amber and gold decorating his skin. He rolls out of bed, feet thudding on the floor before he remembers your sleeping frame laying beside him.

He struggled to focus on you, eyes foggy and head sore, his left eye taking longer to catch up than his right. Even the simplest things seemed like a task after the events at Starcourt. He supposes that’s just what happens when you get the shit beaten out of you by a bunch of Russians who want information you don’t have.

‘You look tired’ he thinks, he’d kept you up most of the night with the screaming he’s sure. If he’s honest, he’s not 100% sure why you’ve stuck around. You fell in love with the Steve before all the trauma. Before all the nightmares and grumpiness. He sometimes wonders if he’d be able to do it if he were you, if he could put up with himself.

He pads to the bathroom, bones and muscles protesting in the process. His coordination’s off, another damn effect, and he misses the pill bottle he was reaching for sending it tumbling to the ground. 

The sound stirs you from your sleep, ears suddenly active and hairs up on edge. You reach for Steve, hand landing flat on his side of the bed. 

“Steve?” you call, anxiety clear in your voice.

He curses himself for being so loud, not wanting to disturb you for what felt like the 100th time in one night. “It’s okay baby, go back to sleep.”

He hears you turn over, and the small sigh that slips past your lips, as you settle back down into the mattress. He collects the runaway pills and throws a couple down his throat. They didn’t necessarily help but dimmed the pain for a few hours, just enough for him to focus on something else. Anything else. 

Do you remember that park … 

when you sat on my lap and I told you everything?

… I was close to giving up

And you told me I was dumb

For thinkin' you'd walk away if I told you everything

“You’re shivering.”

”No I’m not.”

You were, but you weren’t going to tell him that, not after he insisted you bring a jacket and you insisted you wouldn’t need one. 

“Come here.”

Steve pulled you into him so your legs sat between his own, your head resting on his chest and his chin switching between your shoulder and the top of your head. You were currently watching the sunset over lovers lake, desperate to get Steve out, if even for a bit, you decided to take him somewhere secluded and try to minimise the stress you knew he felt leaving the house. Lovers lake was always a safe bet, it’s where you had your first official date, it’s become a sanctuary of sorts for you both when life gets that little bit overwhelming. 

You’ve been finding it difficult to get through to Steve recently. He didn’t smile as much, didn’t laugh and seemed angry more often than not. All you needed was for him to talk to you. 

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, voice barely loud enough for him to hear although he did. 

“What’d you mean sweetheart? I’m fine.”

You turn in his arms so you’re facing each other. Your thumb comes up to swipe at the crease in between his furrowed brows, hand coming down to cup his cheek, “No Steve, what’s really wrong?”

Your question catches him off guard and you see the quick inhale he takes, breath getting caught in his throat before he can release it. “I want you to talk to me baby.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

There’s a pause and you can see his brain working, trying to decide what to say. “Steve, you’re allowed to be hurting. No one is expecting you to carry on living your life as if nothing happened, I just need you to talk to me.” His eyes dropped, chin tucking itself into his chest before he spoke.

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

Your heart dropped, did he really think you were going to leave him because he was struggling? That you would just leave him when he needed you most?

“Why on earth would I leave you?” you ask, brows furrowed and heart hurting. You love him too much that even the thought of being without him sends you sick to your stomach. 

“The arguments, I’m depressed most of the time, th- the nightmares, I mean when was the last time you got a full night's sleep babe? That’s not fair on you, you shouldn’t have to put up with my shit anymore and I totally don’t blame you if you do wanna leave, even though I’d be heartbroken obviously but I'd get i-”

You grab his face to stop his rambling before he can dig too deep a hole that you’d both struggle to climb out from. “No Steve I’m not going to leave you just.. let me help you, and we’ll do this together okay?”

He blinks a couple of times, eyes having to refocus again.

“Okay.”

Please go easy, my heart is heavy

I don't mean to hurt you

Swear that I'm tryin' to be better …

So if you need me to leave i would understand

You walk through the door to see Steve standing in the kitchen doorway, back to you but rooted in place. No subtle sway like you see in most people, just completely still. Taking a couple of steps you softly speak his name.

Your presence frightens him, reflexes kicking in as he sends the glass that was previously in his hand hurling past your head. You scream at the sound the glass makes as it shatters, sending jagged pieces to fall around your feet.

“Jesus Christ! What’s wrong with you?! Why the fuck would you sneak up on me like that?” He leaves out the sliding door leading to the backyard before you have a chance to speak. It takes a few minutes for you to unfreeze, deciding to clean up the glass before trying to approach him. You don’t want to make anything worse. 

Slowly you slide the door open and look for Steve. You hear the sniffles before you see him, sat on the steps leading to the lower part of the garden, hunched over with his head in his hands. You call his name from further back this time, not wanting to startle him again. He lifts his head but refuses to look in your direction.

You hear him mumble something and take a cautionary step forward to try and hear him better, coming to a stop and crouching down in front of him

“What did you say baby?” you ask with a softness to your voice that, given the circumstances, shouldn’t be there. 

“Get rid of me. You don’t deserve this”

“Steve, I’m not going to get rid of you because of an argument,” you whisper to him as you grab his hand.

“I threw a glass,” he admits, guilt washing over him once again.

“It’s just a glass.”

‘That’s not the point he thinks’. He doesn’t understand how you’re so willing to love him. How you’re so willing to help him as if it’s not going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. Yet here you are

“You know I’m not going anywhere right?” you say as if you’ve read his mind, and brush a hand through his hair.

“I know.” He turned to you, eyes, still wet with tears, meeting yours to try and convey as much meaning as he could with just a few words, “I’m trying.”

“I know.”

… be patient, be patient with me

[golbrocklovely]

okay..... you all know what i'm gonna talk about. bc what else could i be talking about today other than snc's love lives lmao

i'm gonna make this short and to the point. i'm gonna be blunt. if you don't like what i have to say, tough luck. i think this fandom needs a bit of a wake up call.

yes, i have seen the photos of the guys with their respective girls. yes, sam was kissing her. and yes, colby's girl kissed him on the cheek.

all of this is to say - this is not some big deal that a lot of you are making it out to be.

and i know that sounds dumb coming from the person that talks about their love life ad nauseum. i know, i know. but the thing is, there is a difference between mentioning and talking about something and full blown HATING something, which is what a lot of you are doing - online and in my ask box.

some of yall are being nice and if so, gucci. this isn't for you. this is for everyone else, tho.

you need to stop feeling like you have a say in snc's lives. they are allowed to date, to move on from past relationships, to do whatever they want with their bodies. it is very odd to me how many of you are quick to hate on these girls and call them clout chaser and gold diggers when yall NEVER say that to any man that randomly shows up in snc's lives. but i'm not gonna get into that rn.

maybe i gave the wrong impression a while ago when i said i didn't trust the girls and felt like maybe they were doing this for clout. while i said that at the time, i don't hold resentment towards them. i genuinely don't have any feelings towards the girls. if anything, i kinda like seeing them bring out this side of snc.

it's cute. sue me.

if they are using snc, who cares. snc will stop dating them then. it's not that deep. they are two 27 year old men, they know how to handle their own shit.

also, even tho this is an obvious statement to make, it might not be that committed of a relationship for either sam or colby. we don't know if they plan to date these girls for a long time or just til tomorrow or whatever. but reality is, one - we don't know these girls. everything i've seen is just rumors and speculation. if they were shitty human beings, i highly doubt snc would date them. two - if snc do plan to date these girls long term, you being a hater towards them isn't gonna help. it also makes you look a bit crazy bc you're hating before anything could happen. three - and i mean this for EVERYONE: chill out. seriously. don't blow a gasket over snc getting gfs. dear god.

and another thing - snc might not say anything about the relationships they are possibly in rn. one, both are super new - from what i've seen, sam has been with his girl since *maybe* sept/oct. and colby had only just met malia at sam's bday party. so if you're expecting them to announce something.... don't hold your breath.