#NO MATTER WHAT WE SAID WE'D BE TOGETHER

[cherrytraveller]

R E J O I C E ‼️

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[halfhumanhalfasleep]

Lately I've been consumed with grief for a culture that doesn't exist. I feel such a longing for a sense of history and meaning that's more than just Capitalism—I am convinced that money cheapens everything.

When your whole society is based on money, how can you have anything of value? The most important things cannot be bought or sold, so what are they to a people for whom money is the cornerstone? What use is tradition, craft, history, community, generational knowledge?

Why bother telling the stories of our past, our present, if they can't be monetized? Why worry about passing down the time-tested knowledge of how to do something well when it's cheaper to do it poorly? (Cheaper to get materials elsewhere, why care about your connection to the land you stand on?) No one has the time to teach or to learn, anyway.

We are not, then, known for our unique way of making something. We are not Weavers, or named for our ship-making prowess. We bear no reputation for quality or style (however much we may parasitize these things). Truthfully, we are known best for our consumption, and in a society whose god is capital, that may as well be our communion.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

when everything goes to shit so you just start "dancing, walking, rearranging furniture, babs is- shopping. i let the bird out of the cage" to the tune of virtual insanity

[rafeandonlyrafe]

friction

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, semi public sex, server!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, workplace romance

“alright.” you clap your hands together. “where is my trainee?”

“hey.” your eyes widen as you take rafe in, his arms crossed over his wide chest, biceps bulging against the sleeves of the uniform polo.

“wh-what?” you take a staggering step back. 

“won't be here long.” rafe says quickly. “just… got in trouble with my dad.” his voice turns softer, but not for your sake, simply for his pride as he looks around.

“and so you had to get a job here of all places?” you question.

“most fitting for punishment. he said if i last two months then he knows i can commit to something.”

“so you're going to be working here… for two months. great.” you try to add some cheer to your voice, but it certainly fails. it was hard enough when rafe would come in to dine at the country club, having to serve alongside him will certainly be hell.

not that he does anything to intentionally upset you, his very presence gets you frustrated. from the second he walked in and you saw him for the first time, your face got hot and flushed and you had to hide in the walk in freezer to cool yourself down.

“so, where do we start?” rafe asks.

you snap out of whatever thoughts you were having. “your section.” you state, the unofficial leader of the servers, having worked at the country club for by far the longest of all the staff, even outranking your current manager in seniority.

--

“rafe, you're at a month and a half, you're so close.” josh says, eyes glancing between the two of you from the other side of the managers desk. “and y/n, you know better than to argue in front of customers.”

josh stands, hands on his hips. “sasha and i are going to take over your sections while you two… work out whatever is going on. just talk it out then get back on the floor.”

he walks out without another word, leaving you in the office alone with rafe.

“you made me look so fucking stupid in front of my regulars.” you grumble. you asked for something very simple. for rafe to bring your table sparkling waters, and he took them tap instead.

“i didn't know.” rafe huffs back, not turning to fully look at you. “sorry, but you still got your fucking tip.”

“just pay attention next time. i know you don't give a shit about this job but some of us need this paycheck to fucking live.”

“alright, i said fucking sorry.”

“alright.”

you both sit in silence, the time stretching out between the two of you. 

“you're still mad.” rafe states.

“im just… frustrated.” you sigh, wishing you could pinpoint why your stomach always tightens when you're around rafe, why no matter how many shifts you work with him he puts you on edge, makes you act different.

“sounds like you could use some-” rafe cuts himself off.

you snap your head towards him. “some what?”

“i was gonna say some dick.” rafe turns his eyes back forward, even though there's nothing to look at but an empty wall.

“some dick couldn't satisfy me, you guys never make me cum.” you say it to upset rafe, hopefully dig into some insecurity he holds, but rafe just smirks.

“i could make you cum. and then we'd both be less frustrated.”

“both?” you question.

“yeah ‘cause you'd get your o and id finally get to fuck you.”

“i guess the only thing stopping us is locking the office door.” 

you both move rapidly, hands meeting at the same time your lips do as you turn the lock and hear the satisfying click of confirmation. rafe instantly presses you against the door, his mouth devouring yours as his body presses in close.

all rational thoughts go out the window. if you were in your right mind, if rafe didn't drive you so crazy, you would never do something so brazen.

rafe reaches down, one hand delving under your assigned polo shirt while the other grips your ass.

you moan against his lips as his hand covers your bra, fingers quickly pushing the material out of the way to get at your nipple, his palm rubbing against you so perfectly you have no doubt in your mind of how skilled rafe is.

“fuck.” you gasp when his hand gripping your bum moves, somehow managing to get your belt off as he pulls it away, undoing your slacks to reach into your underwear.

he finds your clit and taps at it, teasingly, but with just enough constant stimulation to keep you from crying out as you kiss him, pulling back only to look at his face, the way his eyes have dropped and darkened with pleasure, his mouth pink and wet from your kisses.

“don't stop.” his voice is grisly as he begs, and you lean in and continue to kiss, tongue pushing into rafes mouth and taking dominance, but it's all for naught as his finger on your clit so effortlessly controls your entire body, reading your reactions and what you like most as he rubs and touches.

“need you shirtless.” you tell rafe, tugging at his collar. “take it off.”

rafe doesn't want to pull away, it doesn't seem worth it, but instead of continuing to kiss him, you pull his collar more until he has no choice but to unmold himself from your body and take a step back to toss off his shirt, watching as you do the same, revealing one cup of your bra pushed down to reveal your pert nipple.

rafe moves quick to press his lips against your breast, hands working to undo your bra before he's back inside your pants, circling around your entrance and spreading your wetness up to your clit before continuing to rub, hearing your soft moans and whimpers as he switches to your other breast.

“need your cock.” you beg, but rafe isn't ready yet. he knows it will be the ultimate end to your mutual suffering that was just used to hide your bodies attraction, sexual frustration boiling over.

as much as rafe likes sucking your nipple into his mouth and feeling how warm and soft your skin is, he's desperate to move back to your mouth and swallow more of your moans, not so they don't get heard by your coworkers, but so they can become his and his alone.

“on the desk.” rafe pulls away, and a devious smile comes to your lips, knowing you're about to get what you want.

you push your pants and underwear down your hips in one go as you sit on the desk, glad josh keeps everything clear and clean as you spread your legs, rafes eyes dropping to your pussy.

you chuckle as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, but he doesn't have time for a taste as his hands begin to work on his own clothing until rafe is just as naked as you.

he pauses for a moment, standing a foot away from the desk, his cock standing up, calling out for your pussy. he gives you a look, and you know it's a question. a question you would have raged at fifteen minutes ago but you now know is what you've needed this whole time.

“yes.” you tell rafe. simple. one word. one syllable for rafe to surge forward, his arms around your body as he captures you in another kiss and pushes his cock forward against your entrance, burying himself in one smooth motion.

your head tips back, but rafe follows, hips snapping forward and instantly picking up pace, feeling how wet and warm you are, so good that he can't help his loose tongue.

“feels so good.” rafe grumbles. “can't believe we took so fucking long to do this.”

“maybe if you weren't such a-” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust, your sassy comeback stopping halfway through and quickly leaving your mind all together.

“mhm, that's what i thought.” rafe chuckles, but he's barely handling himself better than you, forcing himself to stay somewhat quiet when really he wants to shout your name for everyone to hear, to know he's claiming you.

“t-touch me again.” you tell rafe, and he knows what you mean, yet he's not ready yet, not ready for this to end, so instead one of his hands moves to your breast while he continues to thrust.

you let out a little growl, tempted to reach down yourself and rub your own clit if rafe is taking so damn long to do it, but both your hands are certainly needed to stabilize yourself against the desk.

“perfect pussy.” rafe says, stating it like it's a fact. it almost makes you laugh, but there's not a hit of humor in his voice, his eyes completely glazed over at this point.

he finally reaches down to your clit, beginning his motions from earlier this time with his thumb, remembering exactly what you like and what gets the biggest moan out of you.

you pussy clenches around rafe and he can tell you won't last long, his own speed increasing as his thumb runs so vigorously he's worried only for a second that he's being too rough before remembering who he's with.

“f-fuck!” you squeal. “rafe!”

your back arches as you cum, entire body shaking as your arms collapse underneath you, falling back against the desk as rafe continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

the feeling of your pussy constricting around him sends him over the edge, filling you up with a grunt and a mumble of your name.

“shit.” you gasp, sitting up as you regain some control of your body. “josh is going to be pissed.”

“hey, he told us to work out our frustrations.”

--

“happy six months.” you poke rafes side, making him flinch and then frown at you as he drops a fork in a clatter back onto the table.

“can't believe i could have gotten away with just two.” rafe sighs dramatically.

“hm, part of me thinks that you purposely got in trouble again so you had to stay working here.” 

“now why would i do that?” rafe smirks, very obviously checking you out, looking past your gleaming name tag declaring your newly promoted position as manager to the cleavage peeking from underneath your top.

“meet me in my office when you're done rolling silverware.” you take a look around the country club restaurant, it's certainly not busy and your other staff can handle it as the night is coming to a close anyways.

“am i getting written up?” rafe questions, smile still on his face.

“no… but if you're quick you will get ridden.”

[mcflymemes]

PRE ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue to help set up already existing relationships between your muses and give them past scenarios to reference, adjust as necessary

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS

we were only kids back then. we didn't know any better.

you promised me we'd be friends forever.

you've changed quite a bit since i saw you last.

how are your parents doing? will you tell them i said hi?

i've known you for years, and you haven't changed a bit.

you've always been like this.

remember the last time this happened?

sure, i made a lot of mistakes, but so did you.

do you remember how we met?

you always stood up for me, no matter what.

i've always had a lot of love in my heart for you.

when i was struggling, you were always there for me.

I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY

i thought i told you to stay away.

you've got a lot of nerve, showing your face around here again.

i really don't want to see you again.

you're supposed to call and warn me before you show up here.

there's never going to be a "next time."

this is the last time you show up like this.

last time i said i never wanted to see you again, and yet here you are.

you can't just show up here unannounced.

you remember what happened the last time you showed up.

every time you show up here, shit hits the fan.

you're putting us all in danger by showing up here.

don't you have somewhere else to be?

ROMANTIC FEELINGS

i'm sorry, but i can't stop thinking about you.

after the time we spent together, you've been on my mind.

can we discuss what happened between us?

the last time i saw you, you were going to say something... and then you stopped.

did you mean it? any of it?

i wish we were still together.

would you go on another date with me?

it's hard to deny how you make me feel.

you've always had an effect on me.

i can't stop thinking about the way you look at me.

GENERIC "I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR A WHILE"

do you remember what you told me?

i can't believe this is happening to us again.

the last time this happened, we were better prepared.

i tried calling you a hundred times, but you never answered.

this was never supposed to end like this.

didn't you see my text?

i know you better than anyone else.

you can't lie to me. i can tell when you're lying.

you're making "the face" again.

you promised me you'd stop doing that.

[zoofzoofxx]

„OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(pt.1?????)

Pairing - Joost Klein x Fem!reader

Summary - As you and your little sister walk home, you notice a commotion near a car where a group of people is shouting excitedly. Your sister catches the name of a famous singer and eagerly wants his autograph. However, Joost seems more intrigued by you and proposes a compromise.

Genre - Fluff

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"Thank you very much,” I heard my sister express while embracing me. We were presently walking home; the evening was approaching, and we still had quite a lengthy distance to my flat. Several months back, I turned 22 and purchased a lovely apartment and moved out from my parents. My sister recently turned 16, so I invited her to my flat for the weekend, to go shopping, and then enjoy a delightful dinner as a gift. We were discussing the time my sister prefers to depart tomorrow because the journey to my parents' home is rather lengthy. Suddenly, we heard a cluster of individuals shouting and congregating near a rather luxurious car.

"What is happening back there?" my sister asked, wanting to go and see, but I grabbed her arm. "Let’s just go," I said while pulling her.

“JOOST CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH?!” “JOOST KLEIN PLEASE SIGN THIS!” “SMILE JOOST I’M MAKING A BEREAL!!!”

"Wait, was that Joost Klein?!" In a matter of seconds, my sister was by the car, fangirling like the rest of the group.

"Lorelei, let's just head back, I'm exhausted," I expressed, pulling on her jumper. The surroundings began to darken, and I had forgotten to bring a coat or a hoodie, assuming we'd return home early, but the chill was intensifying by the minute. I started to rub my hands together to generate some warmth. Lorelei continued to call out for the Dutch man who was sitting in his car, disregarding my words. I let out a sigh and decided to wait for her to meet Joost before we could head home. As time passed, the crowd dwindled, with many leaving, yet a few lingered. Eventually, it was Lorelei's turn, and she seized my wrist, pulling me along for moral support.

"HI JOOST, I’M SUCH A BIG FAN!" my little sister exclaimed. Joost chuckled at her excitement until his friend nudged him and pointed directly at me.

“Ey zij is echt mooi! (Ey she’s really beautiful!)” His friend grinned at me. I felt puzzled, so I returned the smile. Joost gazed at me, and we locked eyes for a moment before he looked away.

“Inderdaad. (Indeed.)” Joost said while nodding to his friend and then turning back to me.

"Feeling chilly?" the blond guy inquired, swinging open his car door and walking towards me. As he towered over me, he took a cigarette from his pocket and ignited it. He took a drag, glanced away, removed the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled the smoke. Then, he locked eyes with me, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and waited for a reply. I was at a loss for words. In the background, I caught my sister's amused chuckle, and I noticed a few onlookers capturing this moment on film.

“I’m not cold.” I say looking away. Joost didn’t hesitate to grab my hand.

"False. Your nose is pink and your hands are chilly. And I saw you rubbing your hands and attempting to heat yourself up," the blond man remarked as his strong Dutch accent was evident. He chuckled, unzipping and removing his coat, then passing it to me.

"I-I can't accept that," I stammered, motioning for him to put his jacket back on, but he remained still. My sister gently nudged me, signaling to take the jacket. I glanced at her, seeing her thumbs up, and suddenly, it felt like I was back in high school chatting with my crush and getting support from my best friend. Joost nodded for me to accept his jacket. After a moment of hesitation, I finally took it. He blew the smoke in another direction, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and helped me zip up my jacket. The scent of his expensive cologne filled my lungs. He turned to my sister with a smile clapping his hands together.

“Sooo… You wanted a picture and an autograph?”He inquired of her, and she enthusiastically nodded. He strolled back to his vehicle while his friends chuckled. He retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen, passing them to my sister.

“Can you write your sister her phone number?” He said gazing at me, giving me a wink as I averted my gaze sensing that my face would blush a light shade of pink. My sibling didn't even pause. She penned down the phone digits and aimed to pass it over but halted him.

"I want a hug too," she utters, and he chuckles.

"Let’s compromise, will you write her name and surname for a hug?" He said pointing at me, as I could hear his friends laugh, and I buried my face in my hands due to embarrassment. I could also sense the excitement among Joost's supporters who were laughing heartily.

"Of course! Her name is Y/n!" She mentioned writing something down and passing the paper and pen to him without any delay to offer her a significant, extended embrace. I caught her whispering something, and he burst into loud laughter. I simply grinned, relishing the sight of my sister's joy. Joost murmured something in return, and Lorelei stepped back and approached me. She began to quietly murmur something in my ear.

“No way-.” I said backing away and furrowing my brows.

"Please for my birthday!" She pleads, casting me those adorable puppy eyes.

"No Lorelei, that's an excessive request," I utter firmly, feeling utterly exhausted.

"Please." Joost emerged alongside my sister, giving me pleading eyes. I turned my head and exhaled deeply.

"What will you receive in exchange?" I inquire, exhaling and turning towards my sister.

"A meet and greet for an hour after his concert," she says, pleading with me and giving me those puppy eyes. I sigh and walk over to Joost, who's already lowering himself to my height. I glance at my sister, who's holding her phone out, waiting for the perfect photo opportunity. I just shake my head no, and she pouts. Looking at Joost, I notice he's smiling, his cigarette is gone. As I get a closer look, I realize he's actually really handsome. He gives me one last look and winks. I give him a light peck on his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark. The people around us go wild, especially his friends in the car. I glance at my sister, who's snapping a picture. I furrow my brows and turn back to Joost. His expression is gentle, and he's blushing, as am I.

"You smell pleasant." He chuckled, and I playfully hit his shoulder.

"Lorelei, go get the autograph and the image, and let's head back." I express, glancing at Lorelei as if nothing has happened. My sibling nodded, and a short while later, she bid her final farewell. Joost walked towards me, coming closer with outstretched arms for an embrace. I embraced him, then stepped back and started unzipping the coat Joost had given me.

"What are you up to?" He inquires as I glance up at him.

"Returning your coat. I'm warm, and it belongs to you," I mention, but he took my hand halfway and zips it back up.

"Take it, please, I insist." He casts those pleading puppy eyes once more. I exhaled in surrender, feeling weary and not in the mood for a conversation with anyone at the moment.

“Jij bent echt schattig. (You are really cute)” he said and I tilted my head to the side in confusion and he grinned. Embracing me once more and walking back into his car.

“Ik hou van jou! (I love you!)” Lorelei mentions, and Joost chuckles while glancing at the paper my sister handed him earlier.

“Ik hou van Y/n. (I love Y/n.)” He speaks, and my sister shrieks and pinched my arm while I remain confused. I simply grasp my sister's shoulder, and we depart. Glancing back one last time, I notice Joost Klein still gazing at me with a smile. He winks, offers a small wave, and raises his phone, indicating that I should check mine. I acknowledge with a nod, thumbs up, and a wave as we turn the corner..

After a few minutes of silence I heard a phone notification coming from my phone.

“Send me a message once you arrive home safely with your little sister.”

I passed my phone to my little sister so she could check the message, and she burst into screams of excitement once more. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at my place. Then, I heard yet another notification, this time from Instagram.

“@joostklein ✓ started following you.”

As we stepped into my apartment, the initial thing Lorelei did was play the track "Buurman Uit Berlijn" by Joost Klein and MCR-T. I strolled into my room and overheard my sister say:

"Y/n, remember to reply to Joost!" I just sighed and took my phone, sending him a brief message saying: "we got back home alright, appreciate the autograph and photo with my sister."

In less than 10 seconds, Joost replied, saying: "I have a lipstick mark on my cheek, thanks for that and the hug. You smell really good. If I were you, I'd check the jackets right pocket. I left a little surprise." With my toothbrush in my mouth, I headed to the living room, picked up the neatly folded jacket, and looked through the pockets. It was a letter that said ‘Y/n’ I opened it and inside were 2 passes for the Eurovision Song Contest… I almost chocked on my toothbrush, quickly grabbed my phone, and messaged Joost: “When did you slip those in!?” I hit send quickly and immediately got a reply: “When we embraced. Give one pass to your sister. I'll cover the flight and hotel, unless you'd like to stay with me in the same hotel room ;)” I knitted my brows in confusion. I hastily texted him: “I'm truly grateful. Goodnight.” And received a swift response: “Slaapzacht schat. (Sleep tight darling.)” I just left him on read going into sleep thinking about the kiss with Joost.

A/n- HELP THIS WAS MY FIRST STORY EVER ON TUMBLR DON’T HATE PLS 😭 HAVE A NICE DAY YA’LL 😊☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

#JUSTICE FOR JOOST

[pitchsidestories]

for the girls II Kika Nazareth x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1347

a/n: dear readers, this is for the girls..and for the anon who asked if we'd write another Kika fanfic. 💜❤️

“Chicas, you haven’t. told us about your Portugal trip yet!”, Mapi clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

It was the dinner night after a big game at the team’s favourite restaurant. Far away from the buzzy and touristy La Rambla, in one of the less busy neighbourhoods where you football players could eat and yap in peace. In this minute the candles were lit by the waiters and turned everything into a warm glow.

“True, did you two enjoy it? Were you girls surfing? The water must be cold by now.”, Ellie mused with a dreamy look in her blue eyes.  

“We did. And it was amazing.”, Kika affirmed.

“Yes, we’ll go there again over the Christmas break. The waves were the best I’ve ever ride on.”, you enthused thrilled.

“You two went surfing?!”, Alexia gasped outraged by your recklessness.

“Yeah?”, the Portuguese forward cleared her throat nervously.

“It was super fun, Ale.”, you replied nonchalantly, slightly annoyed by the older Spaniards mothering, for some time her overprotective side always came through when it came to you.

“Can’t you do something less dangerous?”, Alexia sighed.

“We had everything in control.”, you tried to assure the midfielder.

“Still. In the middle of the season.”, she pouted.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t spend too much time on the water anyway.”, Kika intervened, smiling cheekily, holding your hand in hers.

“Kika.”, you exclaimed blushing deeply.

“That’s too much information.”, Mapi chuckled amused.

“Wait, what?!”, Alexia asked shocked.

“Stop acting like a mum.”, the Portuguese laughed.

“You’re lucky I’m not.”, your captain said through clenched teeth.

In your mind you reminisced about your trip to Portugal which felt like ages ago but was only a week prior. How could you explain to Alexia that every day spent with Kika felt as fresh as a summer’s day no matter the actual weather?

“I was faster than you, Kika!”, you grinned triumphantly, your feet had reached the sea water before your teammates.

“You started early!”, she shook her head heavy breathing.

“Lies.”, you countered smiling innocently.

“It’s true.”, the brunette insisted smirking.

“Whatever.”, you shrugged. What you didn’t plan was to get lost into your friends’ brown eyes. They’re so beautiful you thought to yourself.

“You know that friends don’t look at each other like this?”, Kika observed.

“Looking like what?”, you asked biting your lips anxiously. 

“The way you look at me right now.”, the forward replied earnestly.

“I.. sorry.. I think.. I forgot something at the beach.”, you mumbled.

“Y/n..”

“Do you need something as well?”, you turned your head around to look into her eyes.

“No.”, she denied.

You nodded slowly: “Okay.“

“Okay.“, she replied.

There was nothing else to say so you waded out of the water, forcing your heart to stop hammering against your chest.

Kika joined you a bit later, both of you laying on your beach towels and letting the sun dry the water off your skin.

She never mentioned it again and as the day went on, you started to wonder if you had imagined the conversation you had earlier.

You stayed out at the beach to watch the sunset together but once night started to fall, the temperatures dropped and a slight breeze rolled in from the sea. Kika and you found shelter in the van you rented. It was just big enough for the two of you with a twin mattress in the back and a makeshift kitchen where you prepared a quick dinner for the two of you.

Parked a bit away from the actual beach, you had a perfect view at the waves but without heating, the van cooled down as quickly as the outside temperature.

“It’s getting kind of cold… Do you want me to get another blanket?”, you asked Kika who was, like you, sitting on the mattress with a thin blanket wrapped around herself.

“Uhm… sure.“, she nodded.

Wordlessly, you got up and pulled out another blanket.

“Here you go.“

“Come here, we can share this one.“, Kika decided as she unfolded it and gently placed it over both of your legs once you sat back down.

“Thanks. Who thought it would be this cold in our van at night?”, you asked while sucking in a breath.

Kika laughed: “Definitely not me.“

“Me neither. But now we know.“, you joined the laughter, shaking your head about how unprepared you both were.

“We do. Are you still cold?”, Kika asked while her eyes searched your face.

Your grip tightened around the edges of your blanket, a desperate attempt to keep your hands from shivering: “No…“

Kika clearly looked right through your lie. “Move over.“, she demanded.

You did as you were told while the football player moved closer, pulling you into her.

You cheeks started to burn which you chalked up to Kikas body heat.

“Why are you so hot?”, you laughed.

“I’m Portuguese.“, she replied plainly, shrugging.

“Of course.“

“That must be it.“, she grinned.

“Appreciate the heat though.“, you answered, finally laying down. Kika did the same, never letting go of you.

For the shortest moment, you thought you would both fall asleep until you could feel the football player stir close to you. Her chest was so close to yours that you could essentially feel her rapid heartbeat against your ribcage.

“Why are you so nervous? Can’t you sleep?“

“I..no. There’s something else I’d like to do.”, Kika admitted quietly in the dark.

“What’d you like to do?”, you asked her nervously.

“I’d like to kiss you.”, the forward confessed.

“What about the being friends talk from earlier?”, you raised an eyebrow.  

“Well, what about we stop being friends and start dating.”, she suggested boldly.

“You mean like Marta and Caro, Mapi and Ingrid.”, you began listing the couples in the team with your fingers.

“Yes.”

“I like that. So, you didn’t mind when I glanced at you earlier.”, you realized.

“No, not at all.”, Kika insisted.

“I want to kiss you too.”, you smiled sheepishly at her.

“When what are you waiting for.”, the brunette chuckled.

You didn’t need more than this, you left a featherlight kiss on her lips. “Do you want more?”, you gave her a challenging look.

“Please.”, she responded promptly. Now it was Kika who entangled you in a kiss. The Portuguese tasted like never-ending summer; the warmth spread through your whole body chasing the cold away.

“Wait, so you’re together now?”, Keira’s question brought you back to the present evening.

“Jep, we’re.”, Kika confirmed with a proud grin on her lips.

“If you hurt y/n, Kika…”, Alexia warned her.

“Stop, Ale. You’re neither my mami nor my big sister.”, you interrupted the captain annoyed.

“I promise I’ll not hurt her. I couldn’t be happier.”, your girlfriend declared solemnly.

“Good.”, the blonde nodded satisfied.

“You can calm down now.”, you rolled your eyes at her.

“We should order another round of drinks.”, Mapi suggested enthusiastically.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Kika waited until everyone had a newly filled glass in their hands to toast. “Cheers to the power of love and friendship.”

“To another Barca couple.”, the defender from Zaragoza added smirking.

“You look like a proud aunt.”, Ingrid observed smiling.

“I feel like one.”, Mapi acknowledged, resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

The rest of the evening was a joyful time with teammates who become friends and some of them lovers.

“And that’s a wrap.”, your girlfriend confirmed once she took a mirror selfie which had the whole team in it.

Slowly each of the women went down a different road which would lead them home so by the end of your walk it was only Kika and you walking hand in hand through the streets which were lit by the lamplights.

“That was nice.”, you hummed.

“Agreed, come on time to go home, meu amor.”, she replied. At the end of the road, you both knew that your place was waiting for you.

“I’m coming.”, you told her, almost running now, because you couldn’t wait to be in the four walls you called your home now with the woman you loved.

[little-hermit-crab56]

I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.

1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.

That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.

2. Dialogue is a dance.

Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.

3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.

Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.

4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.

If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.

5. Everything needs to have a purpose.

I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.

6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.

I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.

7. Write in a way that comes naturally.

I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.

8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".

"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.

9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.

I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.

10. You're allowed to be vague.

Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.

11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.

Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.

12. Leave your work to rest.

I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.

And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.

Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.

I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.

I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

[stackslip]

I wanna ask what’s going on with arcane but I feel like I’m opening pandora’s box 😅

the thing about arcane s1's writing, is that every plot beat flowed naturally from characters' choices, and every one of the characters' choices made sense in the context of who that character was, where they came from and what information they are working with at the time they make that decision. it felt like a tightly written tragedy where on a rewatch, it all feels completely inevitable that things would end this way because it made sense to who we learned these characters were. and said characters were layered, much time was devoted to giving them a certain degree of depth and believability (bar cait). you can criticize other aspects of s1's writing such as liberal wishwashiness but s1 of arcane was a *good* tragedy with a genuinely compelling cast! the final scene of the show is a confrontation between three major players who were all working with different information and whose motivations are completely at odds but who have a deeply personal tie, it's about jinx as the end result of the zaun-piltover conflict, it's about vi and silco being two deeply broken people who see her in an idealized version they deeply love and want her to remain this static thing they can be comfortable with until it turns out she can't be and she shatters and at the same time irreversably destroys her relationship to both, leading her in her despair to set off the ticking time bomb that is piltover and zaun's inevitable conflict!

so like, s1 has its flaws but its finale imo was perfect and made the whole thing self contained. i was ok with s2 happening. the only thing i wanted was more the dynamic character writing. i expected wishy washy politcs. and act 1 of s2 already struggled with character, but at least the plot beats were interesting and while not earned, made sense according to the characters we'd left in s1.

s2 act 2 is an absolute catastrophe, even compared to the previous act, nevermind compared to s1. it's not just that the plot beats don't feel earned, it's not just that it's missing connective tissue between them--it's that all the most interesting conflicts and dynamics just cease to exist. they don't get "resolved", they either are completely forgotten or are just waved away magically to pave the way for an utterly stupid, shlocky, wannabe shock value emotional final ten minutes of episode 6 that is honestly infuriating in how it's trying to push you to have feelings about it. i don't have any feelings besides revulsion and bafflement frankly. even before these final ten minutes of ep 6, the sheer lack of buildup or of character moments, the way characters are basically willed by the plot to be there at specific points for plot to happen to them instead of them arriving at it naturally--the way it reframes interesting aspects of s1 and s2 act 1 into shlocky, tropey bullshit--it's honestly near mesmerizing? it's like they brought in whole different new writers specifically for this who decided to back down on ANYTHING the show did that was interesting to try to instead push to the league's status quo instead, no matter how little sense it makes. i'm almost in awe. how do you mess up so badly.

this isn't just like, the plot is rushed and we need to get there as fast as possible--none of these resolutions make SENSE. jinx and vi's relationship was the core of season one, and suddenly magically jinx shows up at vi's door and vi bitches a little and then they go hunt vander down together and then they all hug because he was their father too <333 isha. i'm supposed to have emotions about isha? she sacrifices herself for.... forwhat? what? why? it's like they knew they had to kill her off to give jinx feelings and do so in the most stupid and absurd way possible, i was laughing hysterically when the music came in. it was so blatantly manipulative and uncalled for. ok i guess! sevika helps jinx and then once she's served her plot purpose she just vanishes! doesn't she wanna meet vander??? ekko's disappearance doesn't both people much i guess even his own firelights. ambessa says a single line about mel disappearing, and can i say i'm kinda infuriated that two out of three of the main black characters are just locked away from the plot and main cast for a large period of time. jayce--i guess they'll give us an explanation as to why but here it's like he just...... shows up angry and "ruins" things and that's it. whatever there was to ruin lmfao sky and viktor's heterosexuality mind palace leading to him being cyborg satan or some shit? cait finally FINALLY gets some personality, something interesting to her, she is openly a reactionary fascist who gassed half the undercity to sniff out jinx, and then she meets vi and within a solid minute is now back to being Nice and helping out jinx. i guess. silco and vander's backstory kind of completely destroys a lot of the stuff that made vander and silco's relationship to vi and jinx interesting and goes for a Family Is 5ever approach i guess.

just. i don't think there's a single thing there that's redeemable or interesting. it's comically bad. vi has no personality or motivation. she just does things. she got an emo trauma amv so that we get that she's sad but it might as well not have happened bc she barely is a character. jinx is a sad manic pixie dream girl. her psychosis is gone or barely there now apparently. sevika is plot and then vanishes when her part is done. ambessa is not a mastermind as act 1 hinted at but the most stupid comical villain alive. mel is--is she just going to come back to do a big plot thing in act 3 and then that's it? ekko the same? we have no idea what jayce is even doing or what or why. piltover and zaun are gonna ally now i guess lol. ok sure why not. why anything. why do anything at all! what's the point!

it's funny bc i was willing to give this season a chance despite act 1 being so rushed bc again, the plot points were interesting and while the characters needed more time fleshed out for their decisions to make sense i COULD see the characters making these choices and it was just a question of missing buildup. here it's like everyone is a zombie of their actual self. there's no point to anything. it's so stupid. it tries hard to play the emotion part but why should i feel any emotion except befuddlement? why are caitvi shippers happy? i'd be insulted. i feel insulted. i heard via a friend that riot had intervened in the writing more and so far i hadn't felt it but now i'm wondering if that's not exactly what happened bc it genuinely feels like the writers were fired right after act 1. what the fuck lol. i don't think i even wanna watch act 3 after this, i feel genuinely insulted that i should be expected to think this is the same show as s1 or that i should feel any kind of positive feelings about it. fuck this show so bad lmfao i'm sticking to s1 and pretending nothing happened after it. maybe grabbing some act 1 plot points for fun and that's it. it's so bad

[wolverigrl]

Hormonal

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: I can't anymore with this man. I'm not quite sure with this part, bit I still you enjoy it!

Warnings: mentions of Body Dysmorphic Order, angsty, a bit of fluff

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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

It had been almost two years since Hugh and I started dating, and life had finally settled into a wonderful routine. After the initial whirlwind of being labeled Hollywood's Power Couple, the constant media attention had finally calmed down. But even though the paparazzi had shifted their focus to new drama, we were still very much the couple that people looked up to - whether we liked it or not.

Hugh and I had been filming The Greatest Showman together, and it had been a dream come true for both of us. Playing Charity Barnum alongside him as P.T. Barnum was not only a professional highlight but a personal one. Every day, we got to share scenes, rehearse, and spend quality time together on set.

I'd also gotten close to his kids, Oscar, who was 15, and Ava, who was 10. Oscar was a typical teenager - sometimes distant but warm when it mattered. We bonded over our shared love for movies and music, and I had taken him to a few smaller premieres, which was pretty cool for him. Ava, on the other hand, was full of energy, always dragging me into whatever creative project she had going on. She loved to ask me about the costumes on set, always asking if I could sneak her something "cool" from the wardrobe department. We'd grown really close, and I adored being part of their lives.

Even Hugh's ex-wife, Deborra, had been nothing but gracious. I was worried about how our relationship might affect things with her, but she was kind and supportive from the start. We'd even had a few chats over coffee, which eased any awkwardness. There was no competition or resentment - just a shared love for Hugh and the kids.

But lately, something had shifted inside me. It started with the paparazzi photos. They had caught me in unflattering poses or oversized sweaters, and suddenly, the media was speculating that I might be pregnant.

One morning, while Hugh was making coffee, I decided to make light of the rumors.

I sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through my phone and looking at the latest article headline: 'Is y/n pregnant? Signs Point to Yes!' I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, babe." said casually, glancing at him as he poured his coffee, "Apparently I'm Pregnant."

Hugh, mid-sip, immediately choked on his coffee, sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "What?" he coughed out, his eyes wide in shock before a laugh escaped him. "What are you talking about?"

I snickered, showing him the article. "According to the tabloids, we're expecting!"

Hugh’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but then he tilted his head, a hint of concern creeping into his expression. “Well, your period’s still coming, though... right?”

I froze. The smile on my face faltered for a moment, and I realized, in that split second, that my period hadn’t come. It was late. Very late. I hadn’t even thought about it properly until now.

I must’ve looked shocked, because Hugh’s smile faded slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Right?”

I snapped out of it quickly, forcing a nod. “Yeah, of course. It’s just late.”

He stared at me for a moment, searching my face as if trying to figure out if I was serious. Then, with that signature Hugh charm, he broke into a grin, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

"How do they come up with this stuff?" He came over and kissed the top of my head. "You think they'd run out of things to speculate about?"

I laughed along, but something about the rumors hit closer to home than I was letting on. My body had changed recently. Despite working out regularly and eating well, I had gained a little weight. It wasn't much, but enough to make me feel insecure. And with the tabloids dissecting every detail of my appearance, it had started to eat away at me.

Hugh didn't seem to notice - or, if he did, he never mentioned it. He was as loving and affectionate as ever, but for the last few weeks, I had started pulling away from him, especially when things got intimate. I couldn't help but think about my body every time his hands roamed over my skin. I wasn't the woman I was when we first met, and I hated that it was getting to me.

That night, after we'd finished filming, we finally had some quiet, time together. Hugh was in a playful mood, and as we curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in my hand, I could feel him inching closer. His fingers brushed lightly along my thigh, and I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine.

"I miss this, love." he murmured against my ear, his voice deep and sultry. His lips trailed soft kisses along my neck, and I shivered under his touch. His hand slowly slipping under my shirt, inching up toward my skin.

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I wanted to lose myself in him. But as his hand started to lift my shirt, I tensed

"Hugh.." I whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

He slightly pulled back, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" I swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. "I can't right now."

His frustration was palpable as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. "You've been pulling away from me for weeks, y/n. Every time I try to be close to you, you shut me out."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not you." I said quietly. "It's me."

Hugh sighed, his expression softening as he reached for my hand. "Then tell me. Talk to me. What's going on?"

I hesitated, my heart racing in my chest. I didn't want to burden him with my insecurities, but I couldn't keep bottling it up either.

"I've gained weight." I admitted in a small voice, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap. "I've been working out, eating right, doing everything I'm supposed to, and my body's still changing. I feel.. different. And every time you touch me, l just.. I don't feel like myself."

Hugh's face softened as he pulled me into his arms. "Y/n." he whispered, his voice full of love, "you're beautiful and I don't care if your body changes. I love you, all of you. always will."

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I buried my face in his chest, grateful for his warmth, his understanding. "I know." I whispered, my voice breaking. "But it's hard. The media the comments, the expectations.. just don't feel like I measure up anymore."

Hugh tilted my chin up, his eyes locked with mine. "You don't have to measure up to anything. You're enough, y/n. You've always been enough."

I nodded, wiping my tears away. His words brought comfort, but the insecurities still lingered in the back of my mind. I knew I had to work through them, but having Hugh by my side made it feel a little less scary.

The next morning I woke up feeling lighter as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I decided to take control of the narrative. If people were going to speculate about my body, I will be the one to set the record straight.

I grabbed my phone and took a deep breath before snapping a photo of myself in my workout clothes. I wasn't hiding anything. No filters, no posing to hide the weight I'd gained. Just me, as I was.

I opened Instagram, uploaded the photo, and typed my caption:

>>y/n instagram: Alright, let's clear some things up. No, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I've gained some weight. And honestly? That's okay. Bodies thange, hormones do their thing and sometimes despite working out and eating right, your body just decides to go through a phase. I've been feeling insecure lately, and I know I'm not alone in that. But here's the thing - I'm still me. I still love my body, and I'm working on being kinder to myself every day. So if anyone else is out there feeling the same way, just know you're not alone. We're all more than our appearances, but we're allowed to love ourselves in every stage we go through.

Now, if you'll excuse me, l'm off to eat a piece of cake. No guilt, just love.😋<<

I hit post, my heart racing as I watched the comments flood in. The outpouring of support was immediate.

>>logan1noir: Thank you for being so real! You're beautiful no matter what!<<

>>celesty634: This made me cry, I've been feeling the same way, and it helps to know I'm not alone❤️<<

>>dcxmrvl22: You are GORGEOUS! Keep shining, girl🫶🏻<<

>>chrisevans: Proud of you!!❤️<<

>>blakelively: How do you look good in everything??<<

>>vancityreynolds: As your humble friend, I demand you to stop setting impossible standards for the rest of us!<<

>>zendaya: QUEEN👑<<

>>thehughjackman: Always proud of you my love❤️<<

Later that evening, Hugh and I hosted a small dinner at our house. Just a few close friends - Blake, Ryan, Zendaya, Zac Efron and some other close cast members were there.

The wine was flowing, and the laughter was contagious. But all day, I had been feeling a little off. I was moody, switching from happy to sad in the span of minutes, and I was feeling unusually hormonal.

Hugh noticed, of course. He always did. And I couldn't help but tease him throughout the evening. Little touches here and there, suggestive whispers when no one was looking. His reactions were priceless, the way his jaw would clench, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You're playing with fire, darling." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin as we stood by the kitchen island.

I smirked, leaning closer to him, my lips brushing against his ear. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hugh shot me a look that sent a chill down my spine, his hand resting on my lower back, his fingers teasing the hem of my dress. But before he could answer, Ryan came strolling over, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Ryan teased, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the two of us. "You two seem a little preoccupied tonight."

I laughed, pulling away from Hugh slightly, but not before I felt his hand give my waist a playful squeeze. Hugh shook his head, his expression amused but clearly flustered by the interruption.

"Just enjoying the evening." Hugh replied with a chuckle, trying to act casual, though I could see the heat still lingering in his eyes.

Ryan leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "I hope you two are careful, though. With all that tension, you might just end up giving those pregnancy rumors something real to work with."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, Blake sauntered over, a knowing smile on her face. "He's right, you know.: she said, her eyes twinkling with humor. "You two have that look - like you're up to something."

Blake's eyes lingered on me a little too long, and I noticed her frown slightly, as if reading something in my expression that I hadn't yet figured out myself.

Later in the evening, after dinner was served and the conversation had flowed naturally from movie projects to family gossip, I excused myself to the kitchen for a moment to gather my thoughts. I was feeling off - moody, emotional, and kind of disconnected.

Blake followed me, her eyes sharp as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Okay, spill it."

I blinked at her you talking "What are you talking about?"

Blake tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You've been acting... odd tonight. Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Blake, no! I'm definitely not pregnant! I even joked with Hugh about that this morning."

She studied me for a moment, her gaze still concerned. "It's just... I've been pregnant three times now, and I can spot the signs. You're giving off all the vibes."

I sighed, leaning against the counter and rubbing my temples. "I don't know.. I mean I've been feeling weird lately, but I just thought it was stress. l've gained some weight, my moods are all over the place, but I don't think I'm pregnant."

Blake softened, placing a hand on my arm. "If you ever wanna talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

I smiled at her, appreciating her concern. "Thanks, Blake. I think I just need to figure out what's going on with my body."

The night ended on a good note, with everyone laughing and chatting as they left. Ryan, of course, couldn't resist making one last joke. "Don't go making any little Jackmans tonight, okay? Or at least wait until we're gone."

I rolled my eyes, waving them off, "Shut it, Ryan!"

Once the house was quiet and the dishes were done, I finally let out a deep breath, grateful for the silence. But as soon as I sat down on the couch, I felt a familiar cramp in my lower abdomen.

I froze, my eyes widening. "No way!"

I hurried to the bathroom, and sure enough, there it was. My period had arrived. I wasn't pregnant.

Relief washed over me, mixed with an odd sense of joy. After all the speculation and confusion, my body had finally given me an answer.

I returned to the living room, finding Hugh still in the kitchen, cleaning the last wine glasses. He looked up as I entered, and I couldn't help but grin.

"What's with the smile?" he asked, setting the glasses down and coming over to me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "You're going to laugh." Hughs brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Well I just got my period!"

Hugh blinked, then laughed softly, pulling me closer.

"Well, that's good to know. l'm glad you're not stressed about it anymore."

"Me too!" I said, leaning into his embrace, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

He kissed my forehead, his hands resting on my hips as he looked down at me, his voice soft and teasing. "So, since you're really not pregnant and everything's fine.. does that mean we can stop avoiding each other now?"

I looked up at him, biting my lip playfully. "You know I was thinking the same thing."

Hugh's eyes darkened with that similiar heat, and before I knew it, he had me pinned against the kitchen counter, his lips crashing into mine.

His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer, and this time, I didn't stop him. I didn't feel the need to. I felt confident, desired, and most importantly, loved. As his hands slipped under my shirt, his touch igniting a fire inside me, I let myself give in to him completely.

"Hugh..." I whispered, my voice breathless as his lips trailed down my neck.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own filled with love and desire. "I've missed this. I've missed you."

I smiled, my heart swelling with affection for the man in front of me.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And with that, we lost ourselves in each other, the weight of the past few weeks melting away as we found comfort and passion in each other's arms. The insecurities, the rumors, the stress - it all disappeared as we reminded each other of what really mattered.

In the next morning, the world felt a little brighter. I've got an overwhelming support after my post and Hugh was by my side through everything. We spent the morning lazily wrapped up in each other, laughing and talking about the future.

Hugh kissed me softly, his hand gently tracing patterns on my skin.

"You know, I love you just the way you are, right? No matter what."

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I know and I love you too. Always."

Our love had been tested, but we came out stronger than ever. And as I lay there in his arms, I knew that no natter what life threw our way, we would face it together.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

[thegoldencontracts]

Prefect

Azul is your boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, as in, person you're in intimate and romantic relations with. So why, just why is he still calling you Prefect?

Notes: credit to @/cephalo-punk for the idea... Im sorry for my sins, reader is the Prefect, GN reader as usual

You and Azul had a wonderful relationship, really. Wonderful, and romantic, and everything. It was safe to say you two were closing, dating, even. Yes, you two were dating. For months now.

And what did people usually call their partners whom they were dating? Their first name, maybe a petname. They usually dropped the titles.

But not Azul. No, Azul could never drop the title you held. Why? Who knew?

"Prefect!" Azul's voice pulled you out of your frying pan of rage only to plummet you into its fire. Ah, yes, that 'nickname'. That damned nickname. "Would you like to dine together this weekend? My treat, of course. I secured a reservation to that restaurant you kept ogling on our trips together. I know, I truly am a benevolent soul."

And yet, immediately your rage was quelled. Azul was asking to take you out on a date. And especially this week - Finals' must've left him completely swamped, no? But he did. And he even got a reservation to that one place that you somehow forgot the name of! Sure, you didn't remember the name, but you did remember that those reservations were super hard to get.

So, did the Prefect thing really matter that much?

"I'll gladly go on a date with you, Azul!" You said. Azul's lips jutted out ever so slightly.

"A 'date' is one way to call it, I suppose," he said. "Really, Prefect-"

Nevermind. In an instant, your mood was dampened by that stupid term of address. He loved you enough to go through all this trouble, and you really appreciated that, honest! You just wanted him to use your goddamn name!

Wait. You had an idea.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop teasing you," you said. "Housewarden Ashengrotto."

Azul looked at you in confusion.

"Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

"That's you, silly!" You said, like you didn't know the real reason behind his question.

Azul's face puckered up in displeasure, like he'd just eaten a sour lemon. He stayed silent for a while before speaking up again.

"Have I done something to offend you, Prefect?" He asked.

"Nope!" You said. "Why, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

Azul's eye twitched.

"You've decided not to call me by my name all of a sudden," he said.

You smirked.

"Well, since you don't call me by mine, I thought we'd be on even footing!"

The realization hit Azul like a truck. His eyes widened, only to narrow as his cheeks flushed in an indignated pout.

"W-Well- that's different, er-" Azul sighed. "Does it truly upset you that greatly?"

You couldn't help but soften up a bit at that. He really didn't mean you any harm, even if you did still think it was uncharacteristically stupid of him.

"How does it feel when I call you Housewarden?" You asked. His face darkened.

"Point taken."

"Good," you said. "So, why don't you try calling me by my name?"

Azul's eyes widened.

"E-Eh?"

"You heard me. We should be on even footing, right, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

Azul gulped. If he wanted you to call him by his name again, he'd have to do this, and obviously he was going to, since it was clearly important to you, but...

It was hard.

"O-Of course," he said. "E-Er, Pre- ah-"

And then he said your name. Without "-san" added as an honorific. Nothing of the sort, just your name.

You smiled.

"Yes, Azul?"

And just hearing his name again made Azul beam.

"Why don't we go to your place? It's getting rather late."

"I would love that."

[gyubakeries]

❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 9: pre-christmas dinner | k.mg

a/n: hi!! welcome to day 9 <333 be prepared to see some chef!mingyu haha :P i also must thank kyii and sousy for brainstorming with me for this fic, and a few others as well. love u guys <3

p.s. it definitely takes much more time to pull off an entire roast chicken, but for the sake of the fic, the process is relatively faster and mingyu is like, the masterchef or something. also im writing this the evening before a major exam and im just as cooked as the first chicken lol.

word count: 1.2k contents: mingyu x gn!reader , established relationship , ceo!mingyu , cooking , theyre gonna roast a chicken for funsies , good chef!mingyu , clumsy helper!reader , fluff , christmas fun , one (1) chicken was ..... cooked too well in this fic , im sorry chicken (or not...) , read to find out why <3

"baby! i'm home!" mingyu calls out, and that's all it takes for you to come out to the living room, only to be met by the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dragging in huge bags.

"you said you were going to buy some ice-cream," you raise an eyebrow at mingyu. "so, either you bought an entire year's worth of cookies 'n cream, or you bought stuff that we didn't need."

"you know how i get at grocery stores, especially the large, gourmet ones," mingyu pouts. "everything looks so good."

"this is exactly why you need to let me buy groceries," you sigh, grabbing one of the bags and starting to empty the contents. "your bank account won't thrive for long."

"please, we both know i have more than enough money to live comfortably," mingyu sasses. you turn away from the pantry, where you were putting away the organic pasta mingyu had bought, to face your boyfriend.

he looks absolutely adorable like this; beanie nearly slipping over his eyes, large figure bundled up in a sweater and crouching in front of the fridge, stuffing two boxes of something in the freezer.

in moments like these, it's almost impossible to imagine mingyu as the CEO of a high-tech company. trying to visualize him in the crisp suits he wears to work feels like a distant dream, especially when at home, he's just the embodiment of a golden retriever, always so soft and loving.

"yeah, i know mr. ceo," you snicker when he plops down on the floor, complaining of a backache because of crouching at a weird angle. "you don't have to flex your money."

"i'm not flexing," mingyu defends himself with wide eyes. "just saying; we could totally quit our jobs and travel the world, and we'd still have enough money to buy your dream house in the countryside of france."

"we'll see about that," you laugh. just as you finish putting all the groceries away, your stomach starts rumbling. "what's for dinner?"

"roast chicken," mingyu hums, and you notice him flitting around the kitchen, gathering spices, sauces, herbs, and lots of other things.

"you're kidding," you deadpan. "you're gonna roast a chicken?"

"yes!" mingyu grins at you, patting a box placed on the counter. "mr. chicken is here. i'm just going to let him marinade for a while before we roast."

"you're insane," you gape at how professional he looks, washing an entire chicken, patting it dry, mixing together a quick marinade, covering the chicken in it and setting it aside in a matter of thirty minutes.

"again, why aren't you a full-time chef?" you ask him. you're both munching on some snacks while he waits for the oven to finish pre-heating and the chicken to rest in the marinade.

"because i only want my baby to eat my cooking," mingyu answers, stealing some of your chips.

"you've literally cooked for all our friends."

"okay, my baby and our friends."

"and what about our future children? won't you cook for them?" you tease, and as usual, mingyu whines.

"y/n, you know what i meant," he sulks. "i didn't want to turn something i love doing into a profession that i may end up hating."

"well, i'm lucky to have experienced your amazing cooking skills," you remark, and mingyu rolls his eyes affectionately. "if you're trying to sweet talk me into giving you the last slice of cheesecake in the fridge, it's not gonna work."

"aw man," you frown, and mingyu presses a kiss to your cheek as compensation. as if on cue, the oven's timer dings, and mingyu springs into action. he takes the chicken out of the fridge, and you watch in awe as he preps a baking tray, places the chicken in it, and puts it in the oven.

he finally finishes fiddling with the settings of the oven and comes over to you, expression serious.

"babe, i have an online meeting right now. the chicken's gonna be in for an hour. can you keep an eye out for when the oven timer rings? i should be done by then, but if i'm not, just carefully take it out of the oven and set it on the counter, okay?"

"got it, chef," you mock salute, and he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "stay alert okay? you do remember what happened last time with the cake, right?" mingyu teases.

"i got distracted by the show! it could happen to anyone," you cross your arms.

"i know, but i don't want a repeat of that," mingyu chuckles. "cleaning burnt cake wasn't exactly fun."

"i promise, gyu, i'll be extra attentive this time," you assure him, and he heads into the study for his online meeting.

to no one's surprise, you completely miss the timer.

your best friend had called you fifteen minutes after the chicken had started cooking, and what was supposed to be a five minute call regarding what dress your friend should wear to her boyfriend's office party, turned into more than an hour of gossiping about your respective office colleagues.

you only notice something is wrong when you smell something burning, and it hits you then.

the chicken.

apparently, mingyu too had smelled the burning, because he's already grabbing the tray out of the oven and placing it on the counter.

the chicken is burnt, and there's no way of salvaging it.

"min, i'm sorry-" you gasp, mortified by your mistake. "i swear i was trying to-"

"it's okay," mingyu shakes his head, setting the tray down in the sink, leaving the disaster of a roast chicken to cool before he attempts to scrape it off the tray. "i kinda thought this may happen, so i got reinforcements."

you watch with furrowed eyebrows as mingyu walks over to the fridge and pulls out another box, revealing yet another whole chicken.

the entire situation seems absurd, and all you can say is, "were they twins??"

mingyu bursts into laughter, and so do you. it's hilarious seeing his six foot-something figure double over as he nearly falls to the ground because of how hard he's laughing.

"babe, you're so silly," he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. "i just got a backup chicken, in case something went wrong with the first one."

"and you didn't bother to check if they were from the same family?" you gasp in mock offense.

"my bad," he raises his arms in surrender. "in my defense, the burnt one kinda looked like this one's cheating ex, which is why it has to go in the trash."

"hm, i'll allow it then," you nod, face serious, as if you both weren't making up ridiculous stories about chickens of all things.

"anyways, now, all you have to do is sit back, while i cook this one," mingyu instructs you.

"it was a mistake," you pout, crossing your arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. mingyu crosses over to you and pecks your lips. "i know it was baby, and it's okay. you can help me with the marinade this time, okay?"

(the way your eyes lit up in joy makes mingyu feel like he'd be okay with any food burning, as long as it gets you this happy to help him redo it.

god, he'd buy you all the chickens in the world, just to see you like this.)

- fin.

divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !

main taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite

@theidontknowmehn @shinwonderful @baseball-dokyeom @wonuwrites @hearts4hee

@t-102 @gyuguys @grapejuicelh @aaa-sia @cixrosie

series taglist in comments!

comment on this post to be tagged on the upcoming fics!

head to the series masterlist - here <3

head to the masterlist for more!

[hgfictionwriter]

Fantasy

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie finds out you have a kink. Turns out, she has the same one. You explore this new facet of your relationship.

Warning: Serious smut. Role playing. Impreg / breeding kink. Language. If this isn’t your thing, please don’t read. Definitely NSFW!

A/N: Okay, y'all. We are deep into kink territory here lol. Not sure how much appeal this has, but here we are! Anon - this one's for you.

"Hey, thanks for waiting," Jessie said as she came up to you after the game and gave you a quick kiss.

"Of course," you said as you distractedly received the kiss.

"You good?" Jessie asked as she pulled back with a frown.

It took a moment for you to register her question and you closed your eyes briefly as you refocused. You opened them again with a small smile.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you tried to assure her. She wasn't fooled and the frown remained fixed on her face.

"Babe..."

You sighed briefly, eyes darting around momentarily to see if anyone was within earshot. Her gaze remained trained on you and yours dropped to your feet as you fidgeted.

"I-I don't know," you said, lifting your gaze to meet hers once more. You gave a tight smile. "Can we talk about it later?"

Jessie pulled her head back slightly in confusion, but offered a small nod. "Yeah. Okay. You have me worried...but okay."

"It's nothing to worry about. I promise," you told her and you meant it. It really wasn't worth her fretting about it.

You drove back to your apartment and had dinner together. You talked easily enough, but there was a veil of unspoken tension between you even as you sat on the couch together watching a show. You could feel Jessie discretely watching you now and then out of the corner of her eye. Eventually, you sighed.

"Babe. I can feel you watching me," you told her.

She clicked her tongue and let out a short huff. "Well, I'm just curious about what was going on earlier."

"Oh my God. Not that again," you complained lightly, as if there was any question as to what was causing the friction between you today.

"You said we'd talk later," she ventured. You scratched the back of your neck and could feel the nervousness start to build within your throat.

"I'm sorry. It's nothing. Really." You tried to deflect.

"It's obviously not nothing," she countered, angling her body towards you now.

"Oh my God. Jess - this is way overblown now." You were muttering more to yourself than to her as you rubbed your face.

"Then just tell me," she implored. "You've been off since the game."

You sighed in exasperation, letting your hands fall heavily to your lap with a dull slap.

"I was just distracted and in my head," you said quickly, your tone curt.

"Okay. But why?" Jessie asked slowly.

"Oh my God," you repeated as you grew more flustered. You could feel heat starting to rise to your cheeks, much to your chagrin.

"Babe, what's going on?" Jessie asked, both confused and now intrigued by your mannerisms.

"Jesus," you breathed somewhat harshly as you rolled your eyes and swiftly turned to her, speaking very matter of fact now. "I just saw you walking out onto the pitch with that mascot and it got my mind going. Okay?"

She paused momentarily and you could see her trying to comprehend what you were getting at. She conceded. "Going about what?"

Your face burned and you averted your gaze briefly before answering. "About having a baby with you." You held your breath for a second before forging on. "And maybe even more-so the act of how that could come to be."

She frowned at you. "IVF?"

"No! Oh my God." You buried your face in your hands before pulling back with a deep breath. You could feel the confusion radiating off of Jessie. You laid your hands flat on your lap and turned to her more fully. You spoke calmly this time.

"I mean...that my mind was wandering to thoughts of how hot it would be if you," you paused for a few moments, rapidly debating if you truly wanted to finish your thought, "were to get me pregnant."

Jessie's mouth opened slightly and she stared at you with wide eyes now. "Oh." She said.

You watched in trepidation as the wheels in her head turned. She eventually cocked her head slightly and gave you a faint frown.

"I can't though," she said slowly and you released a barely audible, but enduring breath through your nose.

"I realize that," you said simply. She continued to look at you and you gave her a slight look of defeat with a slow shake of your head. "Work with me, please."

She narrowed her eyes at you before raising an eyebrow just so. It was more curious than judgmental. "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

You bit your lip nervously. "That depends on if you're into it, too."

A beat passed.

"If I would be into pumping a baby inside of you?" She asked in a tone that didn't remotely reflect the message of her words. You gave her a visibly shocked look - completely caught off guard by her directness.

"Too much?" She asked with a look of concern.

"No!" You practically stammered. "No." You smiled now, a new blush forming across your cheeks. "That's exactly what I'm hoping for."

"So," Jessie started, voice low as she gave you a smug smirk and patiently leaned in and began laying slow kisses along your jawline. "You'd be into me pinning you down, spreading your legs for me, and letting me fuck my baby into you."

"Holy fuck," you breathed, suddenly short of breath and wetness already pooling in your underwear. You brought you hand up to run your fingers through her hair. "Yes. I would."

Jessie reached a hand down, snaking it between your thighs that were squeezed together in a vain attempt to ease your tension. She cupped your heat through your pants and nipped lightly at your neck.

"Mmm, I can already tell how much you'd like that," she teased. You opened your legs a touch to make room for her and she stroked you firmly through the fabric. "How about we give it a go now?"

You could feel yourself growing wetter and you bit back a moan. You pulled your head back a bit to look at her.

"Are you sure?"

She smirked at you, though she continued to rub you through your clothes and you had to suppress the need to gasp in pleasure.

"It's not like you're going to actually get pregnant," she said. You rolled your eyes, half in exasperation, half in pleasure.

"I know that. But still..."

She smiled tenderly at you now and gave you a kiss before leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

"I've thought about it too. There have been so many times when you orgasm under me or on top of me and I wish I was shooting inside of you. I just didn't think you'd be into it."

"Oh my God," you said, eyes shutting at her words and the visual. "That is making me so wet - you have no idea."

Jessie stood and grasped your hands to pull you up. She placed her hands on your hips and kissed your neck.

"I'd like to find out."

Jessie led you to the bedroom and soon had you naked and laid out on your back on the bed, your head on the pillow. She crawled up the bed and over you, slinking towards you like some kind of skillful predator. She nudged your legs apart, her strap resting against your hot, soaking core.

"Why do you want my babies?" She asked in a sultry voice as she began to pepper slow kisses the ridge of your ear, her powerful arms and shoulders flexing as she leaned down over you.

You let out a short, distracted laugh. "Well, they'd be really fucking cute, first off. But, I-I-," you stammered as she slowly moved her hips and her strap began to slide teasingly through your lips. "I guess it'd be a way for you to choose me. Own me, even. Picking me to carry your babies."

"Mmhm," she concurred as she continued to tease you. She drew her hips back and angled herself, when she dropped her hips back down, she slowly slipped inside of you. You threw your head back, a delayed gasp escaping your open mouth at how she began to fill you.

"You'd like that, hm?" She continued to speak slowly in your ear. "Not only do I pick you to have my cock. But I pick you to have my babies as well. I like that, too."

"Oh God, Jess," you crooned as she slowly drew back, leaving you momentarily empty before steadily surging forward to fill you once more, letting out a soft grunt as her hips made contact with yours.

"Who knows," she whispered again, "maybe even the first time is an accident. We're just so hot for each other one night that we fuck - you forgot to take your pill, we're too in the moment to grab a condom - I tell you I'm going to pull out, but it's too much for both of us." She picked up her pace, pumping into you with a slightly faster, steady rhythm. "I tell you I'm about to cum-"

"I tell you to cum inside of me." You cut her off. She released a shuddering breath in your ear, her rhythm faltering momentarily before she started thrusting into you with greater vigor, the bed now starting to shift with each stroke.

"Fuck," she breathed. You wrapped your legs around her waist. "Yes, babe. Your legs wrapping around me so I can't pull out even if I wanted to. I don't though. All I think about is how I want to cum as deep inside of you as possible. Consequences be damned."

"Jessie, oh my God. You are so fucking hot," you told her as you rotated your hips up in time with her strokes to meet her. "This feels so incredible."

Jessie grunted and reached down with one hand to grab your ass and lift your hips to meet hers with greater fervour. You moaned at the action and she panted above you, more stray hairs now falling out of her ponytail and framing her face.

"God, I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," you replied, breathless as you dug your fingers into the firm muscles of her back. "You fuck me so good, Jessie. It's better and better every single time."

Another short grunt escaped Jessie, an expression of pure focus on her face as she pumped into you harder. The sounds of her skin hitting yours filled the room amongst the sounds of her strap pistoning in and out of your wetness.

A high moan escaped you as you tucked your head against her shoulder as the pleasure was mounting. "I'm so close."

"Me too," she said. "God, I want to pump you full of my cum and give you my baby."

"Oh my God, Jessie. Yes. Please - fill me up," you begged. She pressed herself closer to you and bounced her hips against you expertly.

"I can't wait to see you swell with our baby," she said. "You'd look so beautiful. When you start to show, so round and full, everyone will know it was me who did that to you. They'll know that I'm the one you let do that to you."

"Oh fuck, Jessie." You called her name as you began to pulse around her strap. You tossed your head back, your eyes screwed shut as you dug your nails into her skin. Jessie groaned as you came around her. She held her pace steady until you started to relax and she began to slow to a stop.

She laid on top of you, holding you, for some time, laying languid, sweet kisses along your crown as you worked to catch your breath. She eventually sat up to pull out and she raised her eyebrows, looking both pleased and surprised.

"Holy shit," she said with a light laugh. You sat up and looked where she was on the mattress and immediately felt heat settling on your face.

"That's so fucking hot," she told you with a series of approving nods about the pool of arousal on the sheets. She leaned in and kissed you before you could get too self-conscious. "I think we've discovered a new go-to." She kissed you again. "I loved it. And you were so sexy."

You rolled your eyes, but was grateful for her openness.

"Jesus Christ," you said, still short of breath as you sat forward and wrapped your arms around her. "If we were straight we'd be in some serious trouble." Jessie laughed.

"Depends on your definition of trouble," she smirked. "But I agree, we'd have really, really cute kids."

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR BEST FRIENDS WHO DON'T REALIZE THEY'RE TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

what do you mean? i've always been okay with you dating other people. for some reason, this time just feels different.

do you think you could ever see us as more than friends?

i compare anyone i ever date to you. is that weird?

did they actually think we were dating? that's a little strange.

do you get asked a lot if we're a couple?

you're my best friend. i would never want to risk our friendship.

our friendship matters more to me than anything. i don't ever want you to leave my life.

i'll admit. i've started looking at you differently... in a good way.

guess i never realized how beautiful you are.

would you consider this a date?

seeing you with them... it made me so mad. i can't explain the feeling.

i'm afraid i'll lose you. i can't risk it.

you're not just my best friend, you're my... nevermind. forget i said anything.

sooner or later you'll probably realize you've been in love with me this whole time.

i don't want to ruin our friendship. that's the main issue i have.

but what if you're the one for me?

do you believe in soulmates?

no one else compares with you.

of course i care about you. you're my best friend. you always will be.

wow. you look... absolutely breathtaking.

i know i'm not supposed to have feelings for you, but i do.

they said we'd make a cute couple, you know.

if no one asks you, and no one asks me... maybe we could go to the dance together. as friends.

i'm always going to be by your side. that's what best friends do.

i won't let anything happen to you. i promise.

you have no idea the lengths i would go through to keep you safe.

you don't treat anyone else like this. just me.

how long have you had feelings for me?

whatever happens, we can't let this get in the way of our friendship.

what's a kiss between friends?

best friends cuddle. this is normal. this doesn't have to be romantic.

i've always viewed you differently than other people.

you're so special to me, and you don't even realize it.

i've never cared about anyone like i care about you.

i just don't want them to get in the way of our friendship.

when were you going to tell me you were seeing someone? i thought i was the first person you told about that stuff.

don't you get it? they're not you.

i'm not in love with them. i have feelings for someone else, someone i can't have.

would it make things weird between us if i kissed you right now?

no, i'm not staring at your lips. what are you talking about?

my parents keep insisting that we'd make a great couple.

you've always been my first priority.

you said something earlier about the people you love.

could you ever see yourself loving me?

and what about me? do you love me?

maybe we could go on a date sometime. an actual date where i plan nice things and bring you flowers.

i've been in love with you since the day we met. there. i said it. happy now?

[killerelysia]

While, La Your Lee, Died with Loving You-No witness end! Solivan Brugmansia x Reader X Crowe (bad end)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 4000

Genre: Angst

Reader : G.N reader!

Summary: No Witness (Bad End)

Spoilers for the game. For anyone who wants to know what happened after the ending Fantasia has said,

https://www.tumblr.com/fantasia-kitt/768505871729868800/spoilers-bad-ending-no-witnesses-aftermath?source=share

Trigger warnings: Violence, Obsession and unhealthy relationships, Death and murder, su1cide, Blood, Slightly gore..?

EXTRA: I hate this.

Hyugo’s knife was quick, precise—he knew where to aim, even if it tore at him to do so. Your mouth moved, trying to speak, but no sound came, only the faint ghost of a word that would never be finished. Your eyes were wide, but unfocused, and Sol… Sol couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

You were gone..

You were dead...

"No… no, no, no!" Sol’s voice cracked, breaking into a desperate scream as he lunged forward. The sun was still high in the sky, its golden rays shining in mockery of the darkness that had just fallen over his heart. He cradled your body, hands trembling, holding you as if you were a fragile doll he could piece back together.

"You’re okay. You have to be okay," he whispered, rocking you back and forth, his tears falling freely onto your face. His voice broke with a hiccup as he tried to force a smile. "Pumpkin, c’mon… the sun’s still up, yeah? We wanted...we'd stay together ‘til sunset, remember?"

The executioner, wanted to show it to the poor peasant which he loved so much....

But you didn’t answer. You didn’t move. The sun didn’t care about promises.

His name meant sun, but now it felt like dusk—cold, hollow, and final. Tears streaked down his face, soaking into the blood-stained fabric of your clothes. His shoulders quaked, and he pulled you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, trying to will you back to life.

"Pumpkin..." Sol whispered, his voice cracking. His dark eyes darted from your pale face to Hyugo, who staggered back, wide-eyed and panicked. "What—what did you do?!"

Hyugo stood over him, his blade stained, his expression cold and detached, but his hands shook just enough to betray him. “Stop this, Sol,” he muttered, his voice devoid of warmth. “You don’t even know what you’re fighting for anymore. They didn’t love you. They loved Crowe.”

That name—it was gasoline on the fire in Sol’s chest. He snapped his head up, his grief twisting into rage. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed, his voice raw. “You’re wrong! They loved me! They— You won't understand!”

He always wanted the best for Sol, But it can get naggy and Hyugo hated naggy people.

Hyugo stood frozen, his knife slipping from his hand, clattering to the ground with a hollow ring. His mouth opened, closed, his own tears blurring his vision. “Sol… I—”

"Don’t. Don’t you dare." Sol’s voice was venom, his usually soft demeanor shattered, replaced by a raw, blistering rage. He laid your body down gently, as if he were tucking you into bed, before he stood, fists clenched, his entire body shaking. "You did this. You."

Hyugo didn’t flinch when Sol lunged at him, fists flying with a fury that words couldn’t convey. But no matter how hard Sol hit, no matter how much he screamed, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Sol collapsed against Hyugo, fists falling limp. His tears soaked into Hyugo’s shoulder as he choked out, "Why?"

There was no answer.

Time passed in fractured moments, each second heavier than the last. Sol’s mind raced through memories—your laugh, your warmth, the way you’d tease him about his name. The sun, always the sun. His name was supposed to mean hope, light, warmth… but without you, he felt nothing but cold.

Sol’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury despite the tears blurring his vision. He gently laid your body down as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, then rose to his feet.

"You took them from me!" Sol’s voice cracked, low and feral, trembling with rage. He lunged at Hyugo, his fists swinging wildly.

He ducked and sidestepped Sol’s blind fury, but he couldn’t escape the onslaught forever. Sol caught him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.

"Why?! WHY DID YOU DO IT?!" Sol screamed, his voice hoarse and raw. His grip tightened as Hyugo clawed at his hands, gasping for air. "They loved me! They loved me like I loved them! We could’ve been happy, but you—"

"Shut up!" Hyugo gasped, his face twisted in a mix of guilt and anger. "You’re lying to yourself! They never wanted you—"

The words hit Sol like a physical blow. He staggered back, releasing Hyugo, who fell to his knees, coughing.

Sol surged to his feet, stumbling toward Hyugo, fist raised. “Why?! Why would you—why did you take them?!” His voice cracked again, his rage faltering under the weight of his sorrow.

But before his fist could land, it dropped to his side, the fight draining out of him. His knees hit the ground as he clutched his head, shaking violently. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…”

The air hung heavy with tension, the kind that seemed to seep into the walls and settle deep in the bones. Sol sat slumped against the cold concrete, blood pooling beneath him, hands trembling as he struggled to hold onto the last shreds of composure. Hyugo stood across from him, his teal hair clinging to his sweat-slicked face, his baby blue eyes unreadable.

“You promised me,” Sol said, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You said it wouldn’t come to this…”

Hyugo’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides. “And you said you’d keep your end of the deal,” he spat, his voice sharp, cutting. “But here we are.”

Sol let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded more like a sob. “What does it even matter now? They’re gone. Pumpkin’s gone.” His voice cracked on your name, his head falling forward as he gripped his hair, tugging hard enough to hurt. “I can’t… I can’t do this without them. I don’t want to.”

Hyugo flinched at Sol’s words, his hands twitching toward the blade at his side. “Don’t ask me to do this,” he said quietly, almost pleading. “We’re friends, Sol. Don’t make me—”

“Friends?” Sol’s head snapped up, his eyes red and wild. “Friends don’t betray each other. Friends don’t kill each other’s whole damn world!”

The accusation hit Hyugo like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just stared, his expression blank, but his hands shaking.

“You killed them!” Sol’s voice shattered the silence, echoing in the empty room. “You ripped them away from me, and now you want me to just… just move on?!”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Hyugo finally yelled back, his own tears threatening to spill. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to hurt you, to hurt them?!”

Sol’s laughter was bitter, hollow. “Choice? You talk about choices while their blood is still on your hands! You took everything from me, Hyugo!”

And then, as if his fury had burned itself out, Sol crumpled to his knees, clutching your body even tighter. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over his shaking breaths. “I can’t… I can’t live without them…”

“Don’t say that,” Hyugo pleaded, stepping closer. “Don’t—don’t you dare say that.”

But Sol wasn’t listening. He looked up at Hyugo with tear-filled eyes, his voice trembling as he said the words that would haunt Hyugo forever.

Hyugo recoiled. “What?”

“You owe me this,” Sol whispered. “You took them from me… You owe me.”

Hyugo shook his head, his hands trembling. “Sol, no. You don’t mean that. You’re—You’re just upset. Please, just—”

“DO IT!” Sol’s scream pierced the air, raw and desperate. He stumbled to his feet, dropping you gently on the ground before staggering toward Hyugo. “You’ve already destroyed me. What’s one more cut?!”

“I can’t—” Hyugo’s voice cracked, his entire body shaking. “I can’t kill you, Sol. You’re my friend. You’re my best friend!”

Sol grabbed Hyugo’s wrists, forcing the knife in his hand to point at his own throat. “Friends don’t betray each other! Friends don’t kill each other’s everything!” His voice broke, his tears falling harder now. “Do it, Hyugo. Let me go. Please.”

But Sol wasn’t listening anymore. His grip on Hyugo’s hands tightened, his eyes pleading. “If you ever cared about me… If any of this meant anything… Do it.”

Sol said he will not! didn't keep his end of the deal (and refuses to collaborate with Hyugo afterwards). Hyugo sees Sol as a threat because of that

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking completely.

Sol closed his eyes, his tears still falling, and smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

The blade fell.

When it was over, Hyugo staggered back, the knife slipping from his bloodied hands. He collapsed to his knees, staring at the crimson pooling around him. Sol’s body lay still, crumpled next to yours, his face finally at peace. He held you even before his last breath.

Hyugo’s breath hitched, and he let out a guttural sob, clutching at his chest as the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him. “Why…?” he whispered to no one. “Why did it have to end like this…?”

The silence was deafening, broken only by Hyugo’s choked sigh. He wiped his face with a bloodied hand, smearing red across his cheeks as he looked down at the three lifeless forms before him.

His best friend? Even if he...

And now, all he could think about was how much blood there was to clean.

The kind of silence that screamed louder than any words could. Sol’s body lay still on the ground, blood pooling around him, the faintest hint of a smile on his lifeless face. Hyugo stood over him, knife still clutched in his trembling hand, his expression unreadable.

A blank look. No anger. No sadness. Just… nothing.

He didn’t wipe them away. There was no point. It wasn’t like this was the first time tonight.

First Crowe, then you, and now Sol. Three bodies. Three too many.

Hyugo let out a heavy breath, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. His mind was a whirlwind, but none of the thoughts stuck. Not the screams, not the pleas, not the sound of the blade slicing through flesh. It was all just… static.

Still, frustration bubbled beneath the surface, a bitter laugh threatening to escape. Three bodies. He’d have to clean up three bodies now.

Sol’s last wish echoed in his mind, that broken voice begging him, pleading with him to end it. Hyugo had refused at first, of course he had. They were friends. Best friends. How could he—how should he—have gone through with it? But Sol wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t… let go.

So Hyugo had done it. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Or maybe because Sol made him feel like he had to. Either way, it was over now.

His best friend was gone.

Something about a deal.

Huh. The deal.

What deal, you’re asking?

Why should you care? Didn't know the saying, Curiosity killed the cat?

Leave

The forest was quiet, save for the rhythmic crunch of Hyugo’s boots against the earth. He dragged the bodies, one after the other, his breath labored but steady, his movements methodical. Crowe—or Ichabod, as Hyugo bitterly remembered his true name—was the first.

Ichabod, no—Crowe, lay wrapped in a tattered blanket, his once-proud demeanor now reduced to silence. Hyugo stared at the mound of dirt at his feet and then at the body before him.

Hyugo dug a separate grave for him, far away from the others. The shovel bit into the dirt with a dull thud, over and over, as the mound beside the hole grew larger. He worked in silence, his expression cold and detached.

When the grave was finally deep enough, he let Crowe’s body slide into the earth. Hyugo stood there for a moment, His fingers tightened around the shovel, his knuckles whitening.

“Guess you’ll rest easier this way,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The words felt hollow, like everything else tonight. Crowe was gone, and with him, any semblance of purpose or plan Hyugo had clung to.

Hyugo placed the first scoop of dirt over the body, the sound muffled by the damp earth. Each motion was mechanical, devoid of thought or feeling. When the grave was filled, he stood back, staring at the unmarked mound.

“No words for you,” he said softly, his voice trembling despite the flatness of his tone. “Not after everything. Rest in peace."

And then he turned away, the shovel dragging behind him as he made his way to the next site.

You and Sol lay entwined, limbs tangled in a grotesque reminder of the violence that had unfolded. Your body, once so full of life and warmth, now lay cold against Sol’s, whose amber eyes stared unblinking into the night sky.

Hyugo knelt beside the two of you, the weight of the scene pressing on his chest. He gently reached out, his bloodied gloves trembling as they hovered over Sol’s face. The amber light in Sol’s eyes, so often filled with warmth was gone. Only emptiness remained.

Hyugo’s breath hitched as he closed Sol’s eyes, his touch almost tender, as if he were trying to preserve some fragment of the person he once knew. “You were always so stubborn,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “Always had to make things harder than they needed to be.”

He turned to you, his throat tightening as he stared at your lifeless form. There was no trace of the laughter, the warmth, the spark that had drawn Sol to you so completely. All of it was gone, leaving behind only a fragile shell.

“I don’t even know if you’d want this,” Hyugo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess… Sol would’ve wanted it. He never let you go, even now.”

Carefully, painstakingly, he untangled your bodies, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid of breaking something already shattered.

Hyugo stood there for a long moment, staring down at the two of you. The sight was almost peaceful, if not for the bloodstains and the harsh reality of it all.

“You should’ve had more time,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “Both of you. Sol… he would’ve done anything for you.”

He swallowed hard, blinking back tears that threatened to spill. Hyugo was no stranger to death, but this—burying his best friend and the person he loved—this was something else entirely.

“Damn it, Sol,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Why’d you have to make this so hard?”

When he finally freed you from Sol’s lifeless embrace, he placed you both beside each other on the ground. His gaze lingered on Sol’s face—his amber eyes, once so full of warmth and fire, now dull and lifeless.

For a moment, Hyugo just stared, his breath hitching as a strange, hollow ache settled in his chest. He knelt beside Sol, his gloved hand reaching out to close those vacant eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hyugo whispered, his voice barely audible. “You’re supposed to haunt me, not pity me.”

He stood and began to dig, the motions mechanical, the sound of the shovel breaking the earth filling the heavy silence. The grave he dug for you and Sol was deeper, wider. Together. That’s what Sol would have wanted, wasn’t it?

When the grave was ready, Hyugo placed your body in first, gently, almost reverently. He glanced at your face—so peaceful, so heartbreakingly still.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Then came Sol. Hyugo carried him with a strange tenderness, lowering him into the grave beside you. He lingered for a moment, his hand brushing against Sol’s cold shoulder as if to wake him. But there was nothing. No warmth, no life.

Hyugo stared at the two of you lying side by side, a bitter lump rising in his throat. He shook his head, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep his composure.

“I hope you’re happy now,” he said, his voice trembling despite his efforts to steady it. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

The words hung in the air, unanswered, as he picked up the shovel again. He buried you together, his movements slowing as the last of the dirt covered your faces. When it was done, he stood there, staring at the freshly turned earth, the weight of it pressing down on him.

When he was done, he stood over the mound, the handle of the shovel gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white. The night stretched on around him, vast and empty, and for a long time, he didn’t move.

“I didn’t want this,” Hyugo muttered, his voice trembling, as though he was pleading with the air itself. “I didn’t… I didn’t ask for this.”

But the words felt hollow, meaningless, even to him. He dropped the shovel, the sound of it hitting the dirt startling in the quiet.

“Y’know, Sol,” he said, forcing a bitter laugh, “you always said I’d be the one to get my hands dirty. Guess you were right about that too.”

He took a step back, his legs feeling like lead. His gaze lingered on the graves for a moment longer, his chest heaving with silent breaths.

Hyugo let himself cry. The tears came in silence, his shoulders shaking, his hands digging into his hair as he fell to his knees. But even as the grief tore through him, the deadness inside him remained.

Because no amount of tears could bring back what he’d lost. And deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel human again.

“Rest easy,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if the words were for you, for Sol, or for himself.

What was your last dream like?

You slowly stirred, your chest tight, breath shallow. There was no sound, no light—just the suffocating weight of the void that pressed in on you from all sides. For a moment, it was as though you were caught between worlds, neither alive nor dead, floating in the nothingness.

And then, a soft warmth, a subtle light that bled through the blackness, a soft glimmer of memory.

A hand.

Crowe’s hand.

It reached toward you, fingers trembling, the wound that had torn through him still fresh, as if time had not dared to move beyond that moment. His face was the same, that familiar mix of warmth and sorrow etched into every line, every subtle crease. His hair was messy, falling in gentle strands, his eyes—those deep blue eyes—still held that glimmer of life. But there was a coldness to them now, something that hadn’t been there before.

You tried to reach for him, but your own body felt foreign, heavy, like it didn’t belong to you anymore. The pain in your chest flared—the wound, the one that had been so final, so permanent—still there, still aching. You looked down at your own hands, at the bloodstains that clung to your skin. Everything was as it had been before, before it all ended. Before the betrayal, the deaths, the endless spiral that led you here.

And yet… Crowe was here. Reaching for you. His eyes locked with yours, and there was something about the look in them—regret, longing, maybe even a little bit of guilt—that made your heart ache all over again.

"You’re still here," you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.

His lips moved, but no sound came from them. His hand shook more now, the blood still trickling from the gash on his side, staining the air around him like an ominous cloud.

But still, he reached.

You let your hand fall toward his, fingers brushing against the warmth of his palm, the same warmth that had once made you feel safe, whole. But as your fingers touched his, it was like the world started to crack around you. The space you were in—the place that had once been full of sorrow and pain—now seemed to bleed away, replaced by something lighter. The air shifted, and in an instant, you were no longer in the void, but in the midst of something familiar.

A ballroom.

A dance.

The space opened up like a dream, like a memory, a vision of something you could barely touch. A grand, golden ballroom with crystal chandeliers that sparkled like distant stars, the floor polished to a soft shine. It felt like something out of a storybook, something you’d only seen in the corners of your thoughts—before everything fell apart.

Crowe stood before you, dressed as he had been, that familiar black suit, the dark blue vest. His posture was proud, strong, but the blood still marred him, still clung to him like a shadow. You both stood there, silent for a moment, as the music swirled around you, a melody that was both foreign and comforting, haunting and sweet.

You took his hand. His fingers were cold, still stained, but he held you as though nothing had changed. He pulled you into the dance, a soft step at first, just the two of you moving together in time with the music. His movements were graceful, like a prince, and for a fleeting moment, you almost forgot the world you had left behind. It was just the two of you.

And you danced.

You danced and you laughed, even as the truth pressed at the edges of the dream.

The dream of a life that should’ve been, the life that was stolen from both of you, the life where you could’ve been happy.

But as you spun, your eyes met his again, and that unspoken pain, the ache of everything that had gone wrong, flickered between you. His hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer, but it wasn’t enough.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking the silence. "I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you."

You could feel the weight of it—feel the sharp edge of betrayal that cut through the fragile warmth between you both. You had died because of him. He had killed you. And yet, here you were, still in his arms, still tangled in the web of memories and promises that would never come true.

But even now, in this final dream, you danced. You clung to him like he was the last thing keeping you tethered to this world, even as the truth gnawed at the edges of your mind.

The music played on, but it was starting to fade, slipping away, and the dream was unraveling. The ballroom started to crack, the chandeliers dimming, the floor crumbling beneath your feet. You clung to Crowe, but the more you held on, the more you slipped away.

"I can’t keep holding you like this," you said, voice thick with sorrow, knowing that even this last dream was slipping away. "I can’t stay in this moment forever…"

Crowe’s face softened, and for a moment, it was as though everything paused. "Then don’t." He pulled you in closer, his head resting against yours as he whispered, “I’ll always hold you in my heart, no matter where you are.”

But as the world around you crumbled, so did the dream. And with a final, agonizing breath, you were pulled from him. You could hear his voice calling out to you, but it was fading too, slipping further into the distance.

And then, nothing.

No music. No dance. No Crowe.

Just the cold, dark emptiness of death.

And you were buried with him. With the man who had killed your love. With the man you could never leave. In the same grave, tangled together in death, but still apart.

The curse of it all—of never being able to escape, even in death. Of never truly finding peace.

It's not love. It's obsession

The dirt felt wet, sticky—coating your skin in a cold, clinging muck as if it were the only thing that could touch you now. The soil was thick with blood, mixing with the dampness of the grave like some cruel mockery of what was once life. You could feel the texture of it—gritty, gritty, nasty—slowly consuming you as if the grave was swallowing you whole.

Sol’s body lay there next to yours, and the stench of death was overpowering, a rancid, sickening mix of rot and decay that clung to every inch of the air. The sensation of being trapped, entangled with his body—limbs stiff and cold, skin pale and lifeless—was nothing short of revolting. The weight of his corpse beside you felt wrong, like a violation of everything that was once alive. His empty eyes stared into the dark, unseeing, yet the thought that they were once full of light only made the image more grotesque. The blood—so much of it—was still staining the ground beneath you, and it was as if the earth itself was unwilling to let go, clinging to the remnants of pain, betrayal, and broken promises.

His body, once so full of life, now lay frozen beside you, a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. His clothes were stained, torn from the violence that had ended everything. The warmth, the tenderness he once carried, had vanished, replaced by the cold touch of death that seeped into your very bones.

Your own wounds throbbed painfully, fresh but already beginning to rot in the suffocating air of the grave. You could feel the insects crawling over you, hungry and relentless, feasting on the remains of life that were now nothing but husks. The sticky wetness of the earth beneath you felt like it was seeping into your very soul, contaminating everything you were.

The thought of being buried with Sol, the one who had killed your love—killed your love—was the most disgusting thing of all. His presence, the man who had betrayed you, now clung to you like the dirt that held you prisoner in this wretched grave.

The grave was a tomb of rot, of betrayal, of endless suffering. It was a place where nothing would ever grow again, where life would never again touch you. And yet, here you were, buried with him in your own cursed way, but still chained to him, still tangled in the awful, disgusting truth that you could never escape.

HE MADE SURE EVEN DEATH WON'T DO YOU BOTH APART!