#October is my favorite month and no one can change my mind

[chaosduckies]

I MISSED IT THIS MORNING BUT HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH YALL 🦇🩸🍂👻🎃

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

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[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of October. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) You Know I Need Your Love | Explicit | 1,016 words

Harry studied him, eyes lingering on the spit dripping from his tongue in a long, cobweb-like string and pooling on Louis’s naked thighs. Louis waited patiently, fighting the urge to fidget or lunge forward, hoping to be good enough to be allowed an orgasm that night.

2) All Eyes On Me | Explicit | 1,019 words

Louis gets fucked by a fucking machine in a room full of people, and he loves every second of it.

3) I Never Come Close | Explicit | 1,032 words

Louis has the day from hell, Harry knows how to make him forget it.

4) Baby, I'm Yours | Explict | 1,076 words

Louis' obsessed with marking Harry.

5) I'm Too Tired To Be Tough | Explicit | 1,250 words

Louis looks after everyone else all the time. Harry decided to look after him for a change.

6) Sleeping To Dream Of You | Explicit | 1,625 words

Louis has plans for some late night activities, and Harry is never one to deny. Written for day 2 of kinktober, prompt: somnophilia.

7) A Morning In The Frathouse | Explicit | 2,418 words

The one where Louis decided to surprise Harry with a wake-up blowie.

8) Babyboy | Mature | 2,581 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Liam Payne.  This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Liam is Louis' daddy.

9) I Wanted You To Share My Life | Explicit | 2,676 words

“Why the fuck would you kiss that guy right in front of me Louis?” “It’s not like you’re my fucking boyfriend, are you?” Louis rolled his eyes.

10) Let's Get Physical | Explicit | 2,995 words

The one where they use a fitness ball inappropriately.

11) Masks And Sweat | Explicit | 3,082 words

Louis goes to a halloween party without many expectations and ends up meeting Harry, the bass player of one of the bands that performed at the party.

12) Love's A State Of Mind | Teen & Up | 3,041 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

“Your omega?” Louis asked softly, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “Hmmm.” Harry smushed his face in Louis’ shirt, his hand moving up to mess with one of the buttons. “He’s great, my omega. He’s kind and passionate and funny, even when he makes jokes about me.” “He- He sounds great, button.” “He is. You are.” What?!

13) Fight Or Flight | Explicit | 3,156 words

Harry and Louis are enemies who play on the same footie team and an argument turns into a physical fight and that into something no one expected, least of all Louis.

14) Hold Me And Explore Me | Explicit | 3,573 words

Louis and Harry are roomies and Louis really needs Harry to kiss and touch him.

15) I Never Knew Somebody Like You | Explicit | 4,148 words

Louise and Harriet are teammates on the ice skating team but they hate each other.

16) I Want Yesterdays Love | Mature | 4,789 words

Note: the main pairing is Louis/Dev Patel.

“We’re going on holiday before the term starts again,” Oli announces in their kitchen the day after the art opening. Louis looks up from his cereal bowl. “Who is we?” “I’ve rented us a cottage near the beach. Me, you, Calvin, Rick, and Dev.” Louis makes a noncommittal noise but can’t deny his heartbeat racing at the mention of Dev.

17) Medicine | Mature | 4,824 words

Louis attends his favorite artist Harry Styles concert in London. Louis has always had fantasies of what would happen if he ever went to one of Harry's shows, and that's what they've always been. Fantasies. But perhaps a fantasy in particular might come true this night.

18) Trick-Or-Treat: Love Is Sweet | Not Rated | 5,053 words

Grumpy Harry & Sunshine Louis go to a Halloween party dressed as Judy Hobbs & Nick Wilde.

19) Metamorphosys | General Audiences | 5,062 words

Childhood best friends where H went to prison protecting L some years ago. He was recently released and has nowhere to go, so he shows up on Louis' doorstep. But the sweet kid he used to be has completely changed due to his imprisonment.

20) Dripping Down Your Body Like Gold |Explicit | 6,657 words

Omega!Louis is a phone sex operator by night and Alpha!Harry (one of his friends) calls him by chance.

21) Cherries And Honey | Mature| 7,556 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is surprised that he doesn't have any cravings while pregnant and that he doesn't feel overly emotional, but he just doesn't notice. Harry does though. Featuring an emotional, demanding, and happy pregnant Louis who unconsciously sends Harry to make or get his current cravings.

22) Another Load | Explicit | 7,857 words

Louis and Harry are engaged and in a dom/sub relationship for the past two years. Together 4. They recently upgraded their washer and dryer. Today the new washer malfunctioned or Lou put one too many items in the wash and an error appeared. Louis was half laying on top of the washer looking down as music fills their house. Harry ran to the store. When Harry returned finding Louis bent over the washer looking obscene by pretty much doing nothing. he knew he needed to do something about it. 

23) Do You Want To Know A Secret? | Explicit | 8,029 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis aren’t hiding their relationship, but everyone always thinks they’re joking when they act it/mention it. Hilarity ensues when they try to tell everyone that they really are together with various things happening that keep people from believing them.

24) Soft Hands Organics - Adore Sensitive Skin | Explicit | 8,243 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The Ass Worship fic.

25) A Bite Of Love | Explicit | 8,546 words

It was something that had been on his mind more often than not but this Halloween Louis, a clumsy little witch, would get his vampire boyfriend, Harry, to bite him.

26) Haunted By You (And Only By You) | Mature | 8,597 words

Louise works with Harry's advertising company, attends the company's halloween party and things happen that she never imagined. After that party, there's a small change in her life and she is delighted and in love with it.

27) Anything At All (Worse Than Anyone) | Explicit | 9,083 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where they work together and they can't stand each other; Louis doesn't really know why, Harry likes to think he does. But when something unexpected happens at the restaurant, he's forced to admit that he has been wrong all this time— and that he's the only one who's been lying all along between the two of them.

28) It's Cold In Hell ᡣ𐭩 | Not Rated | 9,433 words

Asher was stranded in the middle of nowhere. A truck driver saved his life and the angel with him take it away.

29) Lost In Psychic Dire Straits | Explicit | 10,894 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Through the one way glass, Harry watches as the suspect fidgets, drumming his fingers on top of the table briefly before picking at the skin on his left thumb. A nervous habit, one that makes him prone to shedding DNA all over the place. With any luck forensics will come back with a strong match. “His lawyer or a lawyer?” Harry clarifies. “His lawyer,” Marianne tells him. “Seems like Mr. Tomlinson has spent the better part of the last decade running around trying to convince people he's a psychic. Got enough brains to have an attorney on speed dial, seems like.”

30) Roman Empire | Explicit | 11,111 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

One day Louis answers Liam's phone while he is in the shower. That's how he meets Harry, Liam's friend who moved to Italy just a while ago. And that's how Liam loses ownership of his phone.

31) I’m A Fire, And I’ll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm | Not Rated | 12,200 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You’re doing the best you can, Harry. I can see that. Dory can too,” he says softly, assuringly. Harry’s breath catches in his throat. He’s needed to hear those words, he hasn’t realized till now. Harry meets his gaze once again. In his eyes, he sees that there was something deep there, something genuine, full of understanding. “Thank you,” his voice thick with emotion, “I’m glad he has you now.” Louis brushes his thumb gently over the back of the alpha’s hand. The gesture is all soft and soothing and it made Harry’s heart flutter with so much want. “You could have me too,” Louis whispers as if it was a secret, as if it was not meant to be heard by anyone. But Harry hears it loud and clear.

32) Me And My Husband | Explicit | 19,061 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Where Harry met someone else, leaving behind everything he once built with Louis.

33) Your Handprints On My Hips | Explicit | 19,834 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

When Louis hired someone to paint the exterior of his house, he didn’t expect to be met with a familiar face. Will summer romance be relived or does fate have a way of pulling them apart?

34) You're Not Harry Styles (Or Are You?) | Explicit | 20,116 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Singer Louis Tomlinson finally meets his crush - ex-boybander Harry Styles - on a late night talk show after he recently released a hit single mentioning Harry. They hit it off and fall in love.

35) One, Two Or Three? | Explicit | 21,050 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It starts with one Louis going on holiday. He spends his well deserved but not welcomed holiday in a resort. He feels a slight embarrassment for having sex with two guys within 48 hours so when he runs in to them, he invents his twin brother to keep things normal (at least in his eyes). Little did he know those men were almost sure he was all alone on this holiday. Both men like him equally and to be honest, he likes them two. Will they end up with just two or with three?

36) Help Me Make It Through The Night | Explicit | 22,828 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Be a dear and get that for me,” Liz says. There’s a glint of something mischievous on her face but Louis ignores it, figuring her cold has slowed her down from worrying about answering the door. He heads to the door and opens it. On the other side is one of the most beautiful men Louis has ever seen. He’s a bit taller than Louis and he has broad shoulders. His legs seem to last for days and Louis can tell that he’s muscular, but with a feminine softness in his form. He has short curly hair and his eyes are the prettiest shade of green Louis has ever encountered before. There’s a smile on his face and dimples on his cheeks and Louis kind of wants to dig his finger in the left one. Just poke it a little. The smile on the man’s face dies when he sees Louis. The following silence is uncomfortable. “Louis Tomlinson,” the man says with distaste in his voice. Louis can’t comprehend why he sounds like that. He’s only just met the man… Oh, wait! No. He knows this man. Or he knew him when he was a boy. The man before him is Harry Styles, the boy he and his mates back in school used to bully relentlessly.

37) Don't Make Me Feel Special | Mature | 26,691 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Its only when Harry is chosen for the Triwizard tournament that Louis realizes that his feelings are returned. Make it abo please.

38) God I Love the English | Explicit | 38,572 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis is a singer and Harry is an actor and they enjoy teasing their fans a little too much.

39) Yours To Reign | Explicit | 39,548 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The Princess Protection Program AU.

40) Easier Than Lying | Not Rated | 49,991 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Harry, my dear friend, you don’t want to start a war with Louis Tomlinson, trust me,” Niall seemed serious now, shooting Harry a warning look. He simply rolled his eyes at Niall, “So, what? I’m just supposed to put up with Louis’ incessant need to make me miserable? I don’t think he plans to stop anytime soon.” Talking it out with Louis proved to be futile, so maybe he could give the brat a taste of his own medicine. There was no guarantee that it would work, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

41) Student of the Year | Not Rated | 52,868 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Life is unpredictable and so is the story between Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles. Featuring fights, prank wars, sweetness, friendship, sex and a healthy dose of a heartbreaking competition.

42) I Am Br(ok)en | Explicit | 53,180 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a 28 year old Alpha who just got his heart broken by his long-term boyfriend. What happens when he meets Louis, a 30 year-old omega who is the spitting image of his ex? Sparks fly and hearts get on the line... Will Harry be able to understand his feelings before it's too late and he loses everything?

43) Sharp As Sugar, Sweet As Spice | Explicit | 60,270 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis loves his life. He’s got great friends, endless hookups, everyone loves him, and he’s a top student set to graduate with a medical degree. When he meets Harry by chance one day, he expects it to just be a sneaky blowjob with a hot dad—it ends up being anything but that, well, except for the DILF part, that’s most definitely the case.

44) Forget Me Not | Explicit | 99,608 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

After a life altering car crash steals the last five years of Louis Tomlinson's memory, he returns from the hospital to an unfamiliar life that leaves him feeling inconsequential. An accidental run in with single father, Harry Styles, and his adorable pup, Elliot, make Louis question his desires, his dreams, and his fears. Eventually, he's forced to read between the lines and wonder... Has his forgotten past been that far away all along? Or have the answers been just beyond his reach all this time?

45) If I Cannot Bend Heaven, I’ll Rise Hell | Explicit | 109,110 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It blooms: In 1807, a boy falls for the wrong monster. It eats: In 1969, omegas began to disappear as rumors of the rising of a cannibalistic cult spread like wildfire. It grins: Now, one of the most powerful vampires of the West sits down for an interview to reveal all his sins. “Exodus 7:14-11:10, right before he sent the plagues, he said to Moses; ‘By this you will know that I am the Lord.’.” The vampire said with the ghost of a smile, small, almost intimate. “How can you annihilate something that you cannot touch, something you cannot see? How can you fight against a hungry God?"

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[ohmytyong]

the color of you [teaser]

cover art made by @/salgoolulu on Instagram

“you picture your emotions through words, while I try to voice out my own feelings with photos”

PAIRING: college student!jaemin x college student!reader (female!reader) x college student!mark

GENRE: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, college au, 90s au, love triangle au, best friend!jisung, best friend!yeri, suggestive (if you squint)

TEASER WARNINGS: none!

WC: tba (TEASER WC: 1,8k)

‣[PLAYLIST]: margaret by lana del rey (ft. bleachers), frozen by sabrina claudio, bonfire by wave to earth, yosemite by lana del rey, blue by troye sivan (ft. alex hope), naked by sabrina claudio, let the light in by lana del rey (ft. father john misty)

SUMMARY: winter to spring to fall — seasons change all the time, and life takes turns you never saw coming. as you’re trying to figure out your true love in your career path, you’re also trapped between the hearts of two boys who try to teach you how to find your real colors, by teaching you how to love.

A/N: finally a glimpse of what i've been working on (and still am) for over six months. the writing process is painfully slow, but this story feels like nothing i have ever written before. it feels intimate to me, and i can't wait to share the full story with all of you <3

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Thursday, October 9th, 1997

Τhere is a fine line between love and passion. It is easy to confuse one for the other, and sometimes the boundaries become so blurry that love merges into passion and passion merges into love. Passion is a state of being — it resembles a phase of complete ecstasy that you wish would last forever. It fills you with a sudden burst of happiness that is so strong, it needs to become temporary, otherwise its effect weakens.

Love is more of a state of living — it draws you in, it roams around you like the strong scent of cologne, it captivates you in an invisible way, almost as if it does not exist, and no matter what your state of mind or being is, it will always find you in the form of solace. This is exactly what gives it longevity in its effect.

You tried to keep a mental note of these thoughts for the time being until you could write them down, before you completely forgot about them and they ceased to exist.

You were standing outside your favorite café in Seoul, patting your hair and brushing your fingers through thick strands to untangle them. Fall was your favorite season when you could hear the crunchy sound of leaves under your shoes or the patter of raindrops on your umbrella, but one thing you were certainly sure of was that you were not particularly very fond of the wind.

With a firm push on the door, you stepped inside the place you liked to call your second home and, almost in a cartoon-like way, you rushed towards the front counter, drawn in by the magical, mythical, delicious scent of caramel.

The boy behind the counter was busy placing pastries in a paper box and didn’t immediately notice your presence, even though you thought that he could sense how much you were craving that cup of hot caramel latte you were dreaming about all morning.

“Jisung,” you raised your voice as you spoke, and the boy jolted up in the air at the sound of somebody calling his name, the box of pastries in his hands flying everywhere around him. You liked to mess with him in this way because of his sensitivity towards abrupt loud noises. You didn’t want to, but it always spread your lips into a smiley smirk when he would jump around and drop whatever he was holding. Exactly what happened right now.

“Oh my God, Y/n,” he said breathlessly, pressing one hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. You let out a soft giggle at his reaction and he narrowed his eyes at you. “I just like to tease you, Ji,” you said as he bent down to pick up the box and the now dirty pastries. He threw away the pastries in a trash can under the counter and placed the box aside in the counter behind him. He rolled his shoulders backwards as he came towards the cash register and swayed his head left and right to move his bangs out of his face. “Alright, alright,” he whispered to himself and he cleared his throat, straightening his back even further. He flashed a wide smile towards you and spoke in a voice that seemed loud to him, but to your ears it still sounded like his usual velvety soft tone. “Welcome to Caramel Craze, what can I get you?”

“Just my regular, Ji,” you said and he kept a note of your order on a small scratch pad, even though he knew your order by heart. “I’ll go sit down at our table, you can come join me when your shift ends. Also, just so you know, Yerim is coming too so be more alert. You know I go easy on you with the jumpscares but she doesn’t,” you said and he laughed at the mention of your friend Yerim, who liked to tease him just a little bit more.

“Okay, you go sit and I’ll be back with your order,” Jisung said and you stretched your arm to ruffle his hair playfully.

You always sat at the table furthest back in the shop right next to the wall-length window. Whatever the season, you enjoyed the access to viewing the outside world through the perspective of the glass that separated you from the people on the other side of it. Today, the atmosphere was covered by dark clouds of gloom that seemed harmless, with no intention of rain. You hadn’t realized how angry the wind was until you looked at the way the branches of the trees moved back and forth to the wind’s direction and the people struggling to walk through the windy force. Behind the glass window, it was peaceful and quiet.

You sat down at your and your friends’ designated table and took out your sketchbook and pencils. Looking around the small coffee shop, you noticed a girl standing, waiting in line to order her drink and possibly a little sweet treat to go along with it. She was wearing a long plaid skirt, falling down to her ankles, paired with a short jean jacket that ended right at the start of her waist. What if she added a leather corset? The length of the skirt kinda throws me off. Maybe a shorter skirt, chunkier shoes, different texture on the jacket-

You picked up your pencil and quickly drew lines that resembled a female human figure. Eyes darting from the girl to your sketchbook, back at the girl and your sketchbook again, you started gaining inspiration for new clothing designs. That’s why you decided to study fashion design; the possibilities of mixing and matching colors, patterns and textures were endless, and your creative mind couldn’t help but be fascinated by the art of fashion.

You were drawing quick rough sketches of clothes, making small changes here and there, trying to find a new, innovative, interesting design to present in class. For the last couple weeks, you were completely stuck and couldn’t create anything. The scholarship abroad wouldn’t be yours if you presented some boring, mediocre stuff.

Lately, you found yourself deprived of inspiration. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why this was the case, but anytime you picked up your pencil to draw new patterns of clothes, your hand automatically moved away from your sketchbook and gravitated towards the pocket-sized notebook you kept on the side of your desk, and all you could do with your pencil was to write words.

the flowers inside my mind wither and fall;

dark fog covers the sky that hangs above my consciousness

i hate to see you wilt —

perhaps a new seed will grow on the ground

and replace the void with color

regeneration mirrors the art of becoming again

Setting your sketchbook and pencil on the side, you moved to take out the small notebook from the front pocket of your bag, flipping the pages to find a blank one and quickly writing down the words that came to your mind at that moment. This is what you always did when you felt stuck. You could never voice the thoughts occupying your mind, so you wrote them down instead. It was always easier to put them in place this way.

A loud bang resonated in the small café and you jolted up in surprise, dropping your pencil on the table. This is probably how Jisung feels, I get it now. You lifted your head to see your friend Yerim setting her bag and extra books on the table as she sat down on the chair across from yours.

“You scared me, Yerimie,” you said in a shaky voice and her lips lifted up to a smirk. “And I thought Jisung was the fun one to tease,” she said.

You scoffed at her comment and dismissed it. Yerim’s eyes dropped to the sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere around the table, peeking at your trembling designs and the black smudges all over the pages that covered the designs you didn’t like.

“Still on designer’s block?” Yerim asked and you shook your head lightly. “I actually made some progress today,” you smiled, “I might have some ideas about what to make. These are pretty much the very first draft of it. If you can call it a draft,” you said pointing at your sketchbook.

Yerim hummed in understanding, but her eyes betrayed her true thoughts. Doubt? Hope? Simply processing what you said? You couldn't tell.

“Hey, listen, I have an extra class right now so I won’t stay, wanna meet me later in the library? I know you prefer studying here but I just came to pick up my coffee,” Yerim said. As if they communicated telepathically, Jisung approached your table holding two plastic cups with your beloved coffee shop’s logo on them. The intensely sweet scent of caramel betrayed what the liquid inside the cups was and you felt dizzy even at the thought of finally tasting the drink you were so desperately craving.

“Here you are, girls,” it felt almost as if Jisung mouthed the words by how softly he spoke. With shaky hands, he placed the cups on the table and smiled at himself for successfully bringing them all the way there without dropping them and spilling the hot coffee all over the shop’s floor.

“Are you coming too, Ji? To the library,” Yerim turned to him and Jisung nodded eagerly. “Of course! I’ll be there after my shift ends. Sorry Y/n, I can’t stay at the café all day, it's getting boring and it reminds me of work,” Jisung apologized to you and frowned.

“Don’t worry, guys, I’ll join you. Besides, apparently I also need to find this book I need for my project. You can go and I’ll meet you there later,” you said and you were going to keep your promise. 

Yerim grabbed her things and leaned over the table to give you a hug. She winked at you and waved at both you and Jisung on her way out the coffee shop. Jisung smiled and shook his head at Yerim’s sassy attitude and you couldn’t help but smile too at how adorable he was.

“You’d better get back to work Ji, or else someone out there is gonna rob all the money you keep in the cash register,” you reminded him and his posture stiffened, smile dropping and eyes widening when he remembered that his shift, in fact, hadn’t ended yet. 

“Oh, you’re right. But wait,” he said, putting his hand inside the pocket of his apron, only to take out a soft caramel cookie wrapped in sealed plastic packaging. He slid it into your hand under the table and offered you a shy smile. “It’s on the house. You need some energy,” he said softly as he walked away towards the back of the café.

You looked at the cookie and quickly put it inside your bag. You were sitting alone once again, blocking your surroundings as you stared outside the window to take a look at the outside world. The wind had calmed down significantly.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @hyuckieslove @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab

@matchahyuck @renjun-fairy @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct @doieslefttoe

@uwuheeseungie @markleefuckme @letmein2urheart

join the taglist or send me an ask! | join my general taglist

[cosmicpearlz]

halloween is cool

summary: jude hadn’t really thought twice about spooky season or halloween.. well until you came along.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: slightly projecting on this one because halloween/spooky szn is possibly my favorite holiday

october. the month of everything spooky and filled with autumn like colors. it's possibly your favorite month to ever exist. loving the pumpkins, the slight chill that graced the air, and the halloween decor. let's not forget that it happens to be sweater weather too.

"baby! baby! baby!" your cheery voice rang through the house. jude could almost picture the smile that resided on your face. a smile itching its way onto his, as your footsteps became closer.

"yes m'love?" you sit next to him on the couch with a bounce, beaming from ear to ear.

"it's october."

"the first of the month to be exact."

"well, aren't you excited?"

"for what?" you gasp dramatically at his question and stare at him with wide eyes. jude finds it harder to contain the smile that wanted to come out and rest on his face.

"it's spooky season."

"i know baby."

"we should be celebrating. why aren't you happy about the best time of the year?" your eyebrows furrowed and jude's heart couldn't take how cute you looked. he loved seeing you so passion and happy about something.

"never really thought twice about it," he says, while shrugging his shoulders. a moment of silence passes by the two of you. then it hit you. a grin replaces the smile that rested on your face just a few minutes ago.

"can we decorate the house?"

"whatever you want baby. we can go shopping for some stuff tomorrow after training." you excitedly squealed and jumped into his arms. the boy barely having time to catch you but still wrapping his arms around you tightly. laughter fills the living room as you pressed kisses all over his face.

-

over the next couple of days, you were determined to turn the house into halloween theme for the season. from pumpkins that sat in front of the door to the skeletons that hung in the living room and kitchen. little touches of orange and black and the fake spiderwebs filled the house as well. the decorations weren't over the top, but it made the house fit more in tune with october.

"we should plan a halloween party or have matching costumes! or maybe both." you wrap your arms around his was it. hugging him from the back.

"what happened to good morning? how was your sleep babe?"

"oops, sorry. good morning my love, how was your sleep?" you lean on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. jude chuckles quietly to himself, you feel the vibrations of his laughter being that you were still pressed up against his back.

"it was alright, i couldn't sleep much. so, i started cleaning the house a bit. how'd you sleep darling?" he turns around to face you. his hands now resting on your hips. fingertips lightly brushing the bare skin that peeked out from your sleep shirt. your arms find their place around his neck and give him a smile.

"wow, i can't believe you actually cleaned the house. they get so old," you say with fake sniffles to tease him. jude playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you closer to him. "i slept well though. i will say, i did miss seeing your pretty face in bed when i woke up."

"you flirt."

"only for you bellingham," you winked and press a kiss to his lips.

"we can go right back to bed if you keep acting like this," he bites his lip, gazing into your eyes. you shake your head and laugh.

"you freak."

"only for you darling."

"you didn't give me an answer to my suggestions."

"baby, wasn't decorating the house enough?"

"no."

"seriously?"

"seriously jude." he stares you down as if waiting for you to suddenly change your mind. "oh c'mon, work with me here!" you whined and pouted your bottom lip. jude groans and closes his eyes.

"i hate when you give me puppy dog eyes with that adorable pout of yours. i can never say no to you! you're cheating."

"it's not cheating love. it's called knowing how to get your boyfriend to say yes to your amazingly cool ideas." you took it a step further and batted your eyelashes. jude smile grows watching you attempt anything to get your way. you both knew that it was gonna work anyway.

"how about we compromise?"

"what are we compromising?" you lift an eyebrow in question.

"ditch the halloween party but we can do the matching-"

"deal."

"you didn't even let me finish." you both burst into laughter.

"all i heard was a yes, so consider me happy."

"i'm glad you're happy baby. all i ever want to do is make you happy. even if it means catering to your weird obsession with halloween."

"heyyy! it's not weird. halloween is cool baby. get with the program."

"yeah yeah, whatever you say m'love."

jude pulls you even closer to him. fronts pressing against each other. leaning down, he connects his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. preferring to take his time with the kiss rather than rushing it. it was slow and full of love. making your heartbeat just a bit faster than it normally does. the only thing that runs through the boy's head is how much he loved you and getting to spend mornings like this with you was the best feeling. little did he know, you were thinking the exact same.

[brawlite]

some horror fic recs for october 👻

i wanted to put together a rec list of my favorite horror fics for the spookiest month. there are a bunch of different flavors of horror in here as well as a number of different fandoms, so hopefully you can find something that tickles your fancy (though ngl i would still rec reading these bad boys even if you don't know the fandoms at all).

i tried to tag tumblrs when/where i could find them, but if i couldn't, the author name links to ao3.

a reminder as always: this is horror—please read all the tags.

thanks for reading and i hope you find something to enjoy!

also, pretty please feel free to reblog and add your favorite horror fic recs.

👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪

the ghost apple tree by @thefearofcod

10k words, rated m song lan/xue yang/xiao xingchen (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

Fixing up a decaying house in the woods is the same as addressing your problems. (sxx is haunted)

brawls' notes: i think about this fic a lot; i'm haunted by it. this is by far one of my favorite horror stories i've ever read—the vibes are off-the-charts and horrific in a very visceral, tense way. made me feel weird (positive). i hope it makes you feel weird too (this is a threat).

—

convergence by @astrophyllitely

33k words, rated e lan zhan/lan xichen, lan zhan/jiang cheng (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

Lan Wangji regains consciousness in a crashed spaceship on an unfamiliar planet. He is not alone; Lan Xichen is there. He is not alone; Jiang Wanyin is there. But never both at once.

brawls' notes: space horror? check. psychological horror? check. uneasy and tense alien vibes? also check. beautiful push and pull of the narrative, paired with an an intense feeling of claustrophobia. there's a particular moment that had my heart right in my throat. stunning.

—

mockingbird by MarInk

82k words, rated e stiles stillinski/peter hale (teen wolf) summary:

Stiles works tirelessly to keep the roof over his heads and longs for a proper challenge for his brains. Peter chafes under his sister's authority and nurses big, bloody dreams. One day, the two are connected by a mistaken text message. One never knows who is on the other end of a wrong number. Sometimes it's somebody one will come to cherish and adore. Sometimes it's a ruthless, unapologetic monster. Sometimes it's both.

brawls' notes: sometimes you read something and are just blown away by it, forever altered. that's what this was for me. want a type of monster-au you've never seen before? this is it. also: ostensibly a wrong-number au, but don't be fooled. (i was.)

—

never meant by nonhicsumus

3k words, rated m alex krycek & dana scully (the x-files) summary:

Sometimes the past isn't worth digging into.

brawls' notes: whump and psychological horror? plus alex krycek?? my favorite. every word of this is perfection—i instantly wanted to read it again for the first time. you can.

—

fais do-do by @moku-youbi

18k words, rated e will graham/hannibal lecter (hannibal)

summary:

“Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein (this fic does not have a summary, but begins with this quote)

brawls' notes: a different-meeting au packed with everything you need for the perfect horror story: violence, blood, a chase scene, and an unreliable narrator. delightful.

—

blackbird, fly by @acroamatica

19k words, rated m kylo ren/armitage hux (star wars: tfa)

summary:

One sunny afternoon in the mountains of Washington state, Ben Organa-Solo walked out into the woods. He never came home. Six years later, a journalist specialising in missing-persons cold cases decides to follow his footsteps and see where they might lead.

brawls' notes: a masterpiece of vibes. this reads so much like a spooky mystery novel, but with a creeping, anxious dread. perfect for the season if you want that true autumnal sort of chill. i've carried this fic in my heart for nearly a decade now—it has inspired me in my own writing so much over the years.

—

grey stars on the rise by @iodhadh

4k words, rated e song lan/xue yang/xiao xingchen (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

Xiao Xingchen comes back. Xiao Xingchen comes back wrong. It takes too long, maybe, for Xue Yang to realize something is wrong with Song Lan too.

brawls' notes: the exact embodiment of: be careful what you wish for. brutal and crushing and so deeply, utterly satisfying. absolute yi-city perfection: the vibes are wretched but strangely romantic (chefs kiss).

—

half your life you've been hooked on death by @whatever-you-can-give-me

4k words, rated m vash the stampede/nicholas d. wolfwood (trigun) summary:

Wolfwood is cornered in an alleyway. Things get worse before they get better.

brawls' notes: and what's a horror rec list without a little bit of gore? whump and blood and near-death-experiences—oh my. this is brutal and feverish and exactly the right flavor.

—

black rock mountain by @bokuno-jinsei

24k words, rated e will graham/hannibal lecter (hannibal) summary:

Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.

brawls' notes: you know That Fic that is really the epitome of that pairing for you? yeah, this is it for me. perfect alternate first-meeting fic. lives rent-free in my head.

👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪

and hey, why not be a little self-indulgent: i can't help but rec a few of my own horror fics here, too:

old growth

21k, rated m song lan/xue yang/xiao xingchen (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

There’s something in the woods outside of their hometown. Xue Yang and Song Lan are going to find it.

brawls' notes: i tried something new with the formatting on this one and i think it panned out solidly and was a desperately fun way to tell the story. this is full of spooky, sleepless forest vibes.

—

what's real or isn't

57k, rated e kylo ren/armitage hux (star wars: tfa) summary:

Hux's new house is not haunted. It isn't.

brawls' notes: i honestly love playing favorites and this is one of mine. this was a load of fun to write—it's chock-full of vibes, personal experiences, local history, and love notes to my favorite horror stories.

—

acquiesce

16k, rated e original luo binghe/original shen qingqiu (svsss) summary:

After seeing the gentle and loving Shen Qingqiu of the other world, Luo Binghe returns to his own with a hunger that can only be satisfied by one thing—a Shizun of his very own.

brawls' notes: this isn't spooky or haunted, but it is psychological horror—packed with nightmares, flashbacks, dread, and manipulation. enjoy!

👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪

and that's it! hope you find something fun to read for this october 🖤

and again—please reblog and add your own horror recs if you are feeling so inclined!

[volturiprincess]

Death Flower

Jane Volturi x Fem human mate

Summary: Jane contradicts a lot but a simple "my little death flower" and its all over.

A/N: I wanted to post this on May 31st since that marks half way to Halloween but I forgot about this WIP. I got some ideas brewing for when October comes around. Its short but anyways....Enjoy💙

__________________🥀____________________

“No”

“No? Why not?”

‘I said no and that is final, so stop pestering me on this”

“Come on my little death flower, let's not be like this”

She stopped walking away and stood on the spot. Here's the thing about being mates with Jane, yes she can be quite difficult to convince to do things, such as cuddling under our favorite open field, but I know a certain trick to persuade her. I noticed this a while ago, she was going to leave for a guard meeting that would start in 30 minutes, but she wanted to leave early but I wanted her to cuddle with me. She’s still not used to affection, which I understand, she took a month to even just hold my hand so I understand that and I respect her boundaries. But as she was getting ready to leave for her meeting I sleepily called out to her “My little storm cloud” and she halted her movements and was instantly in bed with her being the big spoon and I the little one.

I didn't dare to question her sudden change of mind but from that whenever I wanted to “get my way” with her I would casually call her some clever nicknames and she goes with my idea. I of course never call her out in front of the others, actually one time I called her my “little rain cloud” in front of Alec. He instantly looked at Jane and started teasing her and would call her the same nickname for days until Jane threatened to use her ability on him, that for sure shut him up. I promised to her that I would never call her said nicknames in front of others. 

Jane also from what I can say is she doesn't like being called the traditional nicknames, once in a while I do call her darling or my love but it doesn't get the same reaction as when I call her my other nicknames. It's just so amusing to see her halt her every thought and movements when I call her such names, but what makes my heart flip is when she looks at me and you can see a very small smile spreading onto her angelic face. 

“What is it that you wanted to do again?”

Oh man I got her so good, I almost feel bad in kind of manipulating her with my nicknames but man she always gets her way a majority of the time. She always gets the final say but I guess it does feel nice to finally be able to have a small win with her. And gosh that smile she does is so sweet, it's hard to imagine her being able to cause such pain with her gaze when she has such an angelic smile. 

“Oh right, um I wanted you be my Morticia to my Gomez”

“But Halloween is not for another five months?”

“I know but that's going to be our couple costume”

“Hmm we will see”

“Come on Jane, it ill be perfect, I already treat you like you are the only person in my life, I even call you the nicknames that are very similar to what Gomez calls Morticia”

“I said we will see”

I know she likes the idea, she just won't admit it. I think she would make a beautiful Morticia, but in this case she will be a blonde Morticia. In no way will I make her wear a wig to cover her golden locks that I love so much. In my case I would be a female version of Gomez, I'm also at the point of convincing the others to be characters from “The Addams Family”. Felix will definitely be Lurch no doubt, but for some reason im stuck with the thought that Alec and Demetri would be a great Pugesly and Wednesday. They will be my next victims to convince them to go along with my crazy plan. I grabbed her hand to place a gentle slow kiss on it, I felt her literally melt at the touch.

“Fine we will do it, but you dare make me wear a wig I will have Alec use his smoke on you”

Shivering at her little “threat” which I know she will never do, she has said that many times in the past and has never once done it to me.

“I would never want to cover your blonde locks my dear thundercloud”

“...Good”

Being Jane’s mate has its downs but if you play your cards right it can have its perk. 

[mecachrome]

omg k i just saw ur top 3 landoscar moments post from october 2023... any changes/updates since then? new moments made it onto the list? or if not... favorite moment of 2024 so far? (i just like hearing (reading?) ur thoughts it's like reading an intellectual (but still sappy in my fave way) bedtime story 🥰)

hklsdfhlsfhd naurrr... this is so embarrassing why am i still deeply landoscarpilled 6 months later 😔

but honestly i have been thinking about this and the sheer volume of crasyinsane material and lore we've accrued since last year because now i'm like how would you even begin constructing a top 3....... the possibilities are endless!!!

in terms of pre-october content that i might have missed before, i'd say most of this ask still holds (lando's biggest fan dot mp4 will NEVER lose its insanity to me. quintessential landoscar meta as far as i'm concerned) but now i also desperately need 2 shout out portrait painting challenge...... when it came out i was of course susceptible to the "you look beautiful" bantz though mostly just wrote it off as shipbait and since then i've looked back on this video multiple times and been like ?! why was oscar's deference to lando so insane actually.... i've alr mentioned this b4 but 1) oscar taking lando's intro in stride and immediately responding i am ready lando norris 2) oscar playfully acquiescing and letting lando use purple after he'd already chosen it 3) >like 5 seconds later. "you like purple don't you?" "uhhhh... i can do now" (who says that.) 4) another stunning display of lando Nooticing and fixating on oscar's hair swoop and last but not least 5) the way oscar FOLDS OVER and giggles helplessly when lando tells him i've just done you all pink ??? like. OKAY. cheers

looking @ recent content..... personally i find 814 so fascinating because while there are many Discrete Moments i can point out that make my brain explode i also feel like to some degree the reason we (? or maybe just me. again i apologize for the nonsensical drivel i create) love to make parallel gifsets of them is because they have such an understated dynamic built off many minute unspoken habits and wordless exchanges and essentially Patterns so there is less of like... a need for spontaneous intimacy.... if that makes sense. it's about the consistency of reciprocal comfort... iterations..... palisades palisades......... ok this is totally not related to the ask i've just been rotating it in my mind

anyway 10 personable favs !!! arranged chronologically

finish the lyrics (oct 2023): a deeply obvious one but you can't Not include it 😩 i can't believe this came out a week after i answered that because seriously what da hell. @ OSCAR PIASTRI WHAT IS WRONG WITH YEWWWWWWWW. there are sooooo many things i could mention here that i feel have already been exhaustively expounded, the most obvious of course being the classic ojp Heart Eyes moment(s) (Many such cases......but also specifically the love story one) (like i'd argue silverstone was mostly responsible for getting 814 off the ground BUT this video was when their dynamic became the most "mainstream" and accessible to fandom as a whole... the amount of non-f1 fans i saw qrting reups of that clip!!!!) anyway but then you also get 👉 whatever the inside joke they have about old town road is. oscar saying "i reckon you'd be unreal in a karaoke bar in japan" which i still think is such a Line... just me ??? the way he verryryryyyy softly sings "yes" with lando at the end of their love story karaoke and the insane camera angle of him just out of focus. like. really in general there is just such a soft and lighthearted and Fun air to their dynamic in this video that makes me ;__; AND this is another prime moment of lando narrating oscar's firsts for him (singing on camera at mcl!!!) . ALSAURR lando tapping oscar on the bicep while sarcastically complimenting him. once again for two guys who never touch it compels me... actually i could go on about this video tbh like how oscar nearly falls off the couch giggling at lando playing the songs together and then it cuts to the next one and he's suddenly all flushed and his bangs have gotten all fucked up. he's so... they're so... let's move on.

splunk sim city challenge (nov 2023): many classic lines such as "i haven't even distracted you yet!" + oscar knowing his podium year and lando saying "you're a nerd!" + lando going ":) :o are you okay?" and so on... general setup of this challenge was crasy tbh. how it revolves around disrupting the other person's focus and the visual asymmetry of one being sat higher and having to lean over to distract them and how oscar just giggles goodnaturedly when lando sticks his cue cards in front of his face instead of getting annoyed and—SO ON. also forever obsessed with how oscar wordlessly lifts his eyebrows at lando at the end lol

that one sticker video (nov 2023): this video is insaaAAANEEEE to me. ANYONE ELSE??? first of all oscar and lando gingerly standing across each other on either side of the flower bed (while zak brown assumes a power stance directly on it lmfao) is already so visually overwhelming but then the way oscar glances up as he's removing the sticker from the cap, how you can seeeeee him calculating the move the entire time and being adorably pleased about it, @__@ the way lando grins at him afterward... (also crying at zb glancing at them and being equally charmed by their antics) wahhh TT__TT the vibes of this clip... immaculate

oscar thanking lando in their final post-race message (nov 2023): honestly the entire message in general but :__) one of my fav 814 moments OAT is oscar including lando in his thank you speech and lando not really expecting it and being genuinely touched by the gesture. lando is so endearingly fidgety the entire time honestly and the way he perks up a bit and wrings his hands together and playfully smiles at oscar when he mentions him... okayyy. anyway 2 me it's reminiscent of yes/no challenge "am i the funniest teammate you've ever had?" "(shyly) yeahhh... you're up there" (said in the same baby-ish voice as "so... lando?" UGH. UGHHHH) and how lando genuinely gets a bit awkwardly flustered by it like!!! god. wait ALSO i don't have the space for this so i'm throwing in end of season awards MMMM debatable + how gleefully lando threw oscar under the bus and in general just the incredible expression work going on for both of them during this exchange. God [2]

si rapid fire questions (dec 2023): this video was crucial in determining that oscar... well. is obsessed with accommodating and mirroring lando. many things we already knew (aka listening to whatever music lando listens to; insert prema lap "maybe i should move to an english team because the music's better" moment here) but equally important is oscar "stealing" lando's dinner, how lando presses him on the back to the future question until oscar just changes his answer to his, and of course as you know per my blog title NO I'M GOING TO KEEP YOU HAPPY is in my eyes top 5 most insane things oscar piastri has ever said. likeee... lando showing a bit of jokey remorse over enforcing his rules (don't even get me started about lando and game/challenge rules...) but oscar being sooo determined 2 honor his teasing 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 :melting_face: x100!!!

need to split this into two lists because apparently there's a div character limit 😔 continuing on

hilton spa ad (feb 2024): of course this pained me because of This Moment (specifically lando bringing his hand back down when oscar tried to lift it from beneath him 😮‍💨) but that is neither here nor there. obsessed with the salmon at the engineering table anecdote because the most logical explanation for oscar Not doing that anymore is because lando didn't like it... or he just eats different things now but we already know that he's adopted lando's preferred meal b4 so that's equally a lot 2 digest !!! also >the callback to their one million LOOK AT YOU/HIM moments >how they touch shoulders exactly Once when they sit down and then never again despite lando continuously leaning into oscar's space to get to the button... eugh. also just top tier oscar faces + hair 🥰

opening title behind the scenes (mar 2024): thinking about all the hilarious gifsets of this moment that i ate up deliciously 🧡🧡🧡 this was such a significant reminder of how 814 have just gotten like, exceedingly comfortable around each other & have learned 2 communicate via the most inscrutable expressions and noises and gestures that somehow suit Them perfectly x__x although i doubt they will ever really become ~effusive~ with each it's frankly even more devastating that they both help each other care less about maintaining appearances / how they often get so sucked into their interactions (see next bullet point) that everything else kind of just fades away in that instant.... all right ⚠️⚠️⚠️ maybe that's a bit of a stretch but we can pretend for the rpf lens!!! see also my tag spiel in this beautiful tuva gifset.

photo day antics (mar 2024): do you ever just...... what went on in bahrain. honestly. more from this weekend in a second but this video plus the accompanying photo encapsulate their dynamic so perfectly it makes me scream... how 814 are not only so annoyingly focused on each other all the time but also stand SOOO UNNECESSARILY CLOSE while every other teammate pairing is spaced out normally. yuki and checo glancing at them alksfdhdf 😭 truly so ridiculous that the poor photo person tried to get lando's attention and they pretended to comply for two seconds before oscar was lifting his foot to show lando his boot again. also why did it take oscar a million years to step away from lando and put a more appropriate amount of space between them...?! and even then it was barely that much........... (10 paragraphs of speaking later) I prefer really not to speak.

accidental waist grab (mar 2024): this gave me psychic damage so bad i should be lobotomized. we've already spoken about this perhaps erm excessively but why did lando feel the need to stand JUST as close to him if not closer after they broke apart. there was truly no need...... honestly the way this ship will have us looking up driver cams and staring at esteban ocon's ass as he gets out his car just for a single glimpse of their parc fermé dynamic.

bahrain post-race interview antics (mar 2024): You already knowwwww. the sky sports "he follows me everywhere" moment is equally important but the f1tv interview giving us horrifically natural banter (juxtaposing this with their previous interview moments...), lando's dumb faux australian accent and oscar playing along as always, and most of all them HIJACKING THE INTERVIEW & commiserating on camera together ❓❗️ lichrally the grid photo all over again. often when i have emotions over an 814 moment i worry that i sound overly He_Only_Got_Two_Eyes.jpeg but truly sometimes two people are just objectively insane. plus land of piastri/lando piastri.....

also runner up is the f1tv interview with lawrence aka lando's cooing noise @ oscar discussing lily (anyone else frame by frame color pick oscar's face to see how badly he flushed... no? just me?) + the beautiful self-aware surfacing of the CONTRACTUAL OBLIGATIONS of their relationship...... !!! love when 2 guys expose and confirm their own sincerity in trying to verbally resist it. hem

is this anything. sorry eve LKSFDHLDHSF thank u for the ask & pls lmk what ur fav moments are too 🧡

[tunnelsnacks]

Deacon head canons from my old blog be upon ye!

The UP Deathclaws were never real...the L&L gang is though

“He’s sharp as a whip, feisty in the field and extraordinarily cautious with his actions and even more careful with his words”

Deacon’s favorite color is green, hazel green

If he had a character theme it would be Deacon Waltz by Christian Sedelmyer and Jerry Douglas (The name’s just a coincidence)

A very very light sleeper, before Wanderer he would only sleep for around 3 hours peppered throughout the day

It always takes him an hour to fall asleep, even after he & Wanderer start ‘their you sleep and I’ll watch over you’ deal

He’s not religious, but he still prays

Before Wanderer he’d have, what my old therapist calls, micro-bursts of stage three sleep without realizing it (REM sleep) people can do this while looking and cting completely awake, which is why Carrington doesn’t take him serious in meetings... he looked like he’s not paying attention but nada, the man’s brain was just shutting down a little bit

Because of the lack of sleep he got for so long, Deacon disassociates between himself & his body constantly. At times careless with himself...cracking jokes & laughing in dangerous situations... his brain was teetering the line between being asleep and awake so often he couldn’t tell the difference. (sleep deprivation makes you feel unstoppable...cocky even)

Another thing he lost as a result of Wanderer was being able to sleep standing up, because his body doesn’t need to take over for his mind anymore

Smells faintly of cigarette smoke (mainly because of Dez) and basil and something else that can’t really be placed

He fell in love with a school teacher once, she was the one that taught him how to read

Can write/read French but oh god pronounces every letter like how they sound in English... so he sticks to writing messages to himself that most people think are ramblings of a child when/if found

October is his favorite month... June makes him ache

If he’s not at Wanderer’s side or on his own op, he’ll be at the Church... but after Tea Party? He settles on the couch in Wanderer and Shaun’s home until she convinces him to just move in, they’ve slept in the same room for so long at this point but he can’t fathom having a home again. It’s a hard adjustment

If you look of the definition of a ginger you’d find a picture of him at age 14, the freckles keep coming back no matter how many times he gets them removed

You know how you can catch him spying on you in the settlements? Yeah, he wanted you to see him... but not near 111 or a few other places

He’s the person in the Third Rail that points Wanderer to MacCready before they meet, he can’t have her traveling alone like that when she still so green to the world

In codes, D is for Desdemona and d is for Deacon

If not written, agents that are high enough to know their names say Big D and Little D (Dez hates it but he thinks it’s cute, if not clever)

He tenses ever so slightly when he hears the name John/Johnathan

Holds tension in his jaw like no one else, it’s a wonder his teeth haven’t shattered

Hates the taste of coffee but constantly drinks it

Was a hell of a swing dancer in his youth, now he likes slow dancing though that wasn’t discovered until Wanderer showed up

He’s 37 at the youngest and 45 at the oldest

When he left the gang at 19, they shattered every bone in his left hand & wrist, it aches when it rains

Hides his eyes because they were her favorite part of him, the one thing he can’t change ironically, also the sleep thing. He can’t let people know how tired he is all the time

He was born in Rivet City and his mother was a hairdresser, father a drunkard of a city security officer

His ma taught him how to French braid hair

His last name is Deacon. Baby Shaun is the only one who knows that though... Shaun said “Hey Mr. Deacon” & he said “Hey Mr. Hale” (Wanderer’s last name) & Shaun being the clever kiddo he is, cocked his head to the side connecting some dots cause if his first name was Deacon why would he respond with Shaun’s last one?)

Absolutely fascinated with the old world, collects information and fun facts about that time forgotten which Wanderer feeds into

His favorite thing Wanderer tells him about/teaches him is the proper pronunciation of some words and how to spell others

The man has always had a temper, got it from his dad, he works very hard to keep it under control (I can think of a few pieces of dialogue where he’s talking through gritted teeth, anger threatening to boil over)

At first, he was only by Wanderer’s side so nobody could pull her away from the Railroad - he knows what a game changer she is... but they work so well together and she plays along with his tall tales so often that after a while he forgot about the first part

A terrifyingly good shot, better than MacCready and he’s doing it with sunglasses on

He 100% is John D, the terminal entry where Pinky(?) says a runner was the sole survivor and then immediately tried to get people to go back for documents?? A classic Deacon move

Only smokes in HQ (I’ve actually only seen his idle animation of that in the church and at Mercer) unless he’s in a role or somewhere where Wanderer is comfortable... or is extremely stressed out

He hates Hancock, well not hate- but he’s not on the Christmas card list

Deacon knew Shaun was taken 60 years before Wanderer woke up. He knew and he didn’t tell her and it is the secret he hopes she never finds out

Dee’s gotta special soft spot for Tinker Tom, loves him like a crazy brother

His sniper rifle is named Church Bell, lovingly crafted by Tinker

Not sure how he feels about gen 1’s and 2’s, especially after knowing Nicky V but... if he’s gotta do it

Exclusively refers to Nick Valentine as Nicky V

He knows Preston Garvey has a fat ass crush on Wanderer but has neglected to tell her this little fun fact

Tries to shave his head nearly every morning, when he’s with Wanderer he does so when it’s his turn on watch and she’s asleep

The Railroad is his family, they mean so much but of course he’s always kept everyone distant after what happened with Agamemnon

Deacon has been with the railroad between 14 and 20 years

He genuinely doesn’t like Carrington but he’s not going to avoid going to him if he’s hurt of course

His hands are always warm, which is great cause Wand’s are always cold (being frozen for 210 years will do that to a gal)

Do I need to go into the heights thing??? He hates tagging along to set up MILAs but he’ll be damned if he lets his best friend fall off a roof again

He picked the name; Wanderer (don’t get me started on Project Wanderer and Dez’s “it seems fitting” I’ll rant for so long guys)

Doesn’t like sweet foods but fancy lads is a whole other topic

Open spaces stress him out, too much he can’t see

Non-binary but uses he/him pronouns

Doesn’t drink more than a beer or two, but has an unsettling high tolerance

He won’t ever instigate a relationship beyond what he and Wanderer have, as his va Ryan Alosio put it in an interview, his heart’s been absolutely shattered and he can’t stand the thought of being the cause of someone he loves getting hurt because of him again. He loves her but he can’t

Before he got surgery for the first time, he looked like Ryan (the devs actually tweaked his design to resemble him) his original face looks close to what he has now, not that he remembers what that face looked like

[togrowoldinv]

Decorations

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natasha wants to decorate the house as a new fall tradition for your family

Note: Happy flufftober! Here’s my first fic. Enjoy it!

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist, Main Masterlist

During your relationship so far, Natasha hasn’t really wanted to do anything special for the fall. October was just another month to her. You got used to that, so you never expected it to change.

But today, Natasha wakes up with fall activities at the forefront of her mind.

“Detka, wake up,” she says into the morning light. “We have to go shopping.”

You grunt and roll over to look at her. She sounds like she is talking nonsense.

“What?” You ask her. “What time is it?”

“7:30,” Nat answers casually.

“Too early,” you mumble. You try to pull the covers over your head, but Natasha stops you.

“Our sweet girl will be up soon,” she says.

“So, we should sleep until then.” Your daughter is in an energetic phase. You love seeing her come out of her shell, but she has too much energy for early mornings.

“You need to wake up so we can get ready,” Nat says. “I have some things I want to do today.”

“Natasha, please,” you say.

She loves the way you pout at her. She kisses it away. Her plan to wake you up is successful as you can’t resist her kisses. Nat shifts so you’re pinned under her. The weight of her wakes you up further.

“You’re evil,” you say as she kisses your lips deeply.

She kisses you for a few minutes before you hear the sound of little feet running towards your room. You brush your knee between her legs and Natasha practically growls. She didn’t hear the little girl, so she tries to kiss you again, but you push her off you.

“No,” Natasha mumbles as she falls back on the bed.

You chuckle at her antics.

“Mama! Mommy! The sun is up!” Ali says as she comes to your side of the bed.

“Yes, it is, baby,” you reply. “Come on up.”

The little girl crawls onto the bed and Natasha wraps her in her arms. She kisses her temple and holds her close.

“So, I was thinking we could decorate for fall/Halloween today. What do you both think?” Natasha asks.

“Really?” Ali asks. Her face lights up at the idea, but soon falls. “Scary stuff?”

“No, malyshka. Nothing scary,” Nat assures her. “Just some pumpkins, haybales, maybe even a scarecrow.”

“Where’s this coming from?” You ask your wife.

“I don’t know,” Nat says. “I just realized I kind of want to be one of those tacky fall families that decorate for the season. I want that for our kids.”

You nod in understanding. Nat has slowly opened up about her opinions about how to raise your kids with the older Ali gets and the prospect of more kids soon.

“Well, then we have some shopping to do,” you say.

“Can I wear my pumpkin shirt Auntie Wanda got me?” Ali asks.

“Absolutely,” you agree. “Let’s go get ready.”

With that, your little family of three is out of bed and gets ready to go shopping. You go to Target for a few inflatables, the farmer’s market for haybales and pumpkins, and finally make a stop at the grocery store for fall themed snacks and drinks.

When you get back home, you turn on a fall playlist and help Natasha decorate the house. She mostly does the work while you wrangle Ali from running around crazy. Maybe a caramel apple with M&M’s on it was too much sugar for a three-year-old.

“What do you think?” Natasha asks, stepping back from the house.

There are pumpkins, haybales, and a scarecrow in the front yard with more pumpkins and a fake black widow spider you convinced her you needed on the porch. The yard also has a Charlie Brown great pumpkin that Ali wanted. It’s perfect.

“I love it,” you answer. “You did amazing, my love.”

“Thanks,” Nat says, a smile on her face. She lifts Ali into her arms. “What do you think, Ali baby?”

“The spider is my favorite,” Ali replies.

“Really? I thought it might be a little scary,” you say.

“No, because Mama is a black widow, and she isn’t scary,” Ali reasons.

You and Natasha both laugh. Nat can be a little scary, but you won’t tell Ali that. After all, the woman who wanted to wake up and decorate the house for fall couldn’t be that scary.

The house looks perfect, and you feel a new tradition has begun. You can’t wait for next fall with your perfect family.

[collapsedglasshouses]

hello! 💕 i love your writing so much! i usually don’t make requests but i was wondering if you could do like a cute cozy night in with noah??? maybe wine drunk, handsy, cuddles, and some smut if you are comfy doing that? :) i can see him getting a lil handsy and affectionate but also saying sweet things. i just love the idea. thank you :)

Lips Like Wine [Noah Sebastian x Reader]

A/N: Such a cute request and exactly what I need right now. Thank you for requesting! ♡

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When Noah surprises Y/N with her favourite snacks and wine, she didn’t expect the night to evolve like it did.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, NSFW, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, ...

TAGLIST: @measuredingold (if you wanna become part of my taglist in general, pls let me know and i love @measuredingold , did I already say ily , @measuredingold ?)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

The ring of your bell woke you up at around 11 PM. 

To your surprise, you found yourself on your couch with your favorite blanket wrapped around you. You must have slept in after dinner because your favorite show was still quietly playing on your TV. 

You mumbled tiredly while getting up and making your way to the door. After a quick look through your door viewer, a little smile grew on your face, and you opened the door excitedly. 

"What are you doing here, sir?" You asked your friend, who had a shy smile on his face, before revealing your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine he held behind your back. 

"Did I wake you?" He wanted to know and gave you an apologetic look when you nodded slightly. 

"Don't be sorry, work was catastrophic today." You let him in before he laid down his goodies and quickly wrapped his arms around you. You let out a satisfied hum while rubbing his back. "I missed you, Noah." - "Believe me, I missed you more." 

You first met Noah last summer while they toured with A Day To Remember. You had been hired as the tour co-manager, meaning you knew about everything and everyone. Likewise, you somehow ended up keeping a tradition after the show where you would meet after the official celebrations and eat a couple of snacks together while getting wine drunk. 

Something, however, had changed over the last few months. You and your ex-boyfriend, whom you had been dating for over four years, broke up right after said tour, causing you and Noah to become even closer. You weren't mad about it, the fact of the breakup was that you two had definitely fallen out of love. You noticed when you stopped seeking closeness with your ex-boyfriend. 

What worried you, though, was how easily you started to crave those touches from Noah. Every time you were together, you felt like you needed to be closer to him. Your favorite thing to do at the moment was watch silly little movies with him when you had rough days. Keeping this in mind, you were more than happy to see him standing there, surprising you with what you needed the most. 

"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of the country?" You asked him after getting two wine glasses and sitting down on your couch. Noah scratched his back lightly before he started to smile. 

"We had a couple of days off, and I was in desperate need of one of our wine nights." He confessed, making you blush a little. 

They were on tour at the moment, so you didn't expect to see him again until mid-October. There were a couple of moments of silence before you raised your voice again. "Do you wanna watch a Ghibli Studio Film?" - "I thought you'd never ask!" 

It took you less than ten minutes before the two of you laid under your blanket, sipping on your wine glasses while eating sour gummy worms and watching Howl's Moving Castle. 

In all honesty, the movie was entirely irrelevant to you. Your eyes were glued to Noah's lips while he told you about the concerts that had already happened. 

"How have your days been?" He then asked you while putting your glasses back on the table. "Actually, pretty boring. Except today, I couldn't finish anything at work." - "If you wanna sleep, I can go. It's really no prob-… " - "I'II drag your ass back to my couch if you try to leave." You interrupt your friend and grab his thigh over the blanket, causing him to look down at it for a moment. 

You immediately noticed it and tried to put your hand away, but he quickly held it in place. The temperature in the room instantly rose, and you felt this pleasant tingle in your stomach. 

You tried to defuse the rising tension by taking his hand in yours and looking at the tattoos on his hand, as if you hadn't done that hundreds of times before. Noah chuckled when he noticed you beginning to analyze the drawings on his hands again. 

Swiftly, he started drawing small circles on your hand. "Do you see something new?" His tone was teasing. He knew exactly what was going on, and it bugged you how he could handle everything so well, while you almost literally melted at everything he did. 

Honestly, you had already given up on Noah feeling anything at all for you beyond friendship. You just accepted your little get-togethers and enjoyed his company, even if it cost you your sanity. 

That's why it shocked you when Noah's hand gently brushed up your arm, giving you goosebumps. Your thoughts began to race as you froze. You were sure it was the wine speaking out of Noah's mouth when his hand landed under your chin. You felt yourself shiver slightly under his touch, and you started to crave it even more. 

Without even noticing, you slightly leaned into his touch. Your thoughts were having a race. You knew you needed to pull away, but this single touch made you feel like pudding next to him. 

You let him turn your head to face him. You looked him in the face. He had cut his hair shorter than usual. At first, you were a bit skeptical about it, but the longer you looked at him, the more you liked it. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. 

Then your eyes wandered. His eyes looked sleepy, while the dark brown of his irises nearly looked black. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his lips were slightly parted, while his gaze was fixated on your lips. 

You thought you were dreaming when his thumbs lightly brushed over your lips. 

"You think I didn't notice, am I right?" Noah almost whispered while his gaze was still fixated on your lips. You didn't know what to say. Even if you knew, you were sure your body would betray you. 

You needed all your strength not to crumble into pieces right in front of him. 

You knew you felt this weird attraction to him for way longer than you wanted to admit, but you didn't know how down bad you were for him. "This all has changed, am I right?" Noah then asked, and you swallowed hard while he stroked your cheek. You resisted the need to lean into his touch again. You couldn't let him win this easily. 

"Please tell me to stop, Y/N." He then almost cried out while leaning closer to you. Your heart started to race even faster. You knew you should have pulled away, but everything in you needed him closer. 

"Kiss me." You breathed out when your noses were almost touching. "You know I won't be able to stop." - "Than don't." 

With that, it was over for the both of you. 

His lips crashed into yours. You could taste the wine in his mouth while your hands landed on his chest and slowly made their way up to his neck. With a swift motion, he lifted you onto his lap. His hands instantly found their way under your shirt, while yours ran through his dark hair. Shortly after, your shirt found its way to your living room floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. 

His hands roamed your body while he started kissing your neck. You felt like you were burning. 

"We shouldn't do this." You almost moaned when his kisses reached your collarbone. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, almost making you crumble into small pieces. "Then tell me to stop." 

Your eyes locked while he placed small, soft kisses on your chest. "Tell me, Y/N, tell me to stop." Noah whispered and leaned closer to your face again. His hands found your hips and grabbed them harshly. You breathed out a small breath while he slowly started to move your hips. You felt how hard he was and couldn't believe it. It felt like the perfect fever dream. 

"Go on, tell me how you don't want me to fuck you." Noah almost groaned. "Tell me how you haven't thought about it every fucking time we met up in the last months." You swallowed hard. 

You were an open book to him. It felt like he read every single page of yours. You couldn't be silent any longer. "Fuck, you know I can't. You moaned out when his hand found your waistband, and before you knew it, he flipped the both of you over. 

With that, he kissed his way down your body and stopped at your waistband. "Let's get these off, love." He spoke in a low tone that made you shiver while his fingers tangled in the lace of your panties. You lifted your hips, and he quickly pulled them off, throwing them over the backrest of your couch. In a swift motion, he grabbed your hips again, pulling you closer to him and immediately connecting his mouth with your pussy. 

You whimpered as his tongue licked up your slit, swirling around your clit. It doesn't take him long to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you and moving them at a pace that made you squirm. 

"Look at you." Noah spoke against you, causing you to buck up your hips. "Fuck, I can't get enough of you." He almost moaned and let out a small laugh. 

You looked down at him between your legs, and your eyes met. His pupils were blown wide and sparkling in amusement. You didn't respond to him; you just watched him as his mouth worked against you and his fingers massaged your sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs. 

The pleasure kept building and building, the tension becoming a hot blur inside of you, until Noah's mouth suddenly stopped completely. 

A frustrated cry escaped your mouth while you looked at him. You were this close to complaining to him when he suddenly stood up and reached to bring you to your feet. 

"This is only the beginning, Y/N" 

And with that, you found your way to your bedroom...

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

[httpskuzuu]

Softer Pt.2

I like October, it's my birthday month, and I finally finished the second part of Softer :p

Anyway, I think you can tell that I like the word need, necesitar, in Spanish or English sounds good :D and this is my favorite part, I think, I really like how they both turned out

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

sumary: You tried to escape and now you have to take the consequences, but you make something change in Fyodor... (but the part 2 >:p) Pt.1

tw: yandere behavior, kidnapping, explicit self-harms, blood, manipulation, brainwashing, stockholm syndrome, reader needs therapy, self-blame, suicidal thoughts, mention of death (no one dies), blood loss, manipulation, trauma, mention of god, Fyodor is a fucking tw

It was three phases from your confession and your punishment.

Everything was perfect and nice for the first two weeks, until your cuts became scars. He seemed to go out of his way to make you feel good and loved by him, and you were very grateful. Now, you feel ungrateful to be complaining about his change.

After six weeks, your ribs healed and he began to distance you. When you noticed that, you panicked, you cried whole nights and days in your room because of this fact, how was it possible that something like this had affected you so much? You don't even know yourself, you just know that you wanted to pull out every hair on your body to forget about the emotional pain you were carrying.

And now, well, you can't be so horrible and say that Fyodor is back to his usual self, it's more like a strange mix, that comforts you. That this Fyodor is a mix of the previous ones makes you think he's trying to be gentle, but he's having a difficult time. You like to opine that that's the right reason for not sinking you further.

You wish you could say you hate normal Fyodor, but you can't hate any part of Fyodor and that worries you. What's been happening to you? Why are you behaving this way? Always looking for the terrorist's cold touch like an abandoned dog. Always waiting for him like a dog, loving him like one, messy, intense and ready to die for your owner.

Your mind was broken, atrophied and without any hope of repair. That scares you. You don't want this! You want your mind back! You miss being able to think about something else that isn't related to Fyodor. It's like being an intruder in your own mind, you no longer belong in that place full of happy memories, now blurred.

Sometimes you love your useless mind, you love believing in him the way you do, and you love how that seems to satisfy him. Maybe that's all your mind is looking for: to satisfy him.

Speaking of satisfying: he no longer seems to enjoy punishing you, which completely disorients you. All your life you were assuming that the only way to satisfy Fyodor was to let him mistreat you, but now? Now he was only touching you to give you light caresses. You don't want to be an idiot, you love that now your body doesn't suffer, but that doesn't take away from the fact that a small part of your skin is missing the pain. It's as if you were created to be hurt.

You convince yourself that you are ungrateful. Fyodor has changed for you, and you play the victim, saying that everything is so weird, poor you. You can't think about anything else besides yourself because you are a bad person, because you don't deserve the change Fyodor made for you.

It's not like before, everything is so much more comfortable in his presence, even if afterward he disappears for hours and makes your mind a prison of horrible thoughts, thoughts of firmly believing that it's your fault he's gone.

Physical contact has also changed, it is somewhat more common than with normal Fyodor, but it is nothing compared to gentle Fyodor. It really hurts you inside every time he is in front of you, and he isn't touching you or talking to you. Something is broken, and you don't quite know why. How needy of attention have you become in this time?

What did Fyodor do with your mind? You don't know. The horror of what he did to you is still in you, lurking like a shadow. It won't go away.

Sometimes there's a little voice deep in the back of your head, the only sane part left in you. It shows up on dark nights, when you're alone, makes you realize all the shit Fyodor put you through and how much he fucked up your mental health. You like having that little voice, it feels like getting over Fyodor somehow, it's a shame it disappears the next morning along with the first bite of breakfast.

Even though you listen to it, you never mind it, and that can be noticed by the need to not be able to bear it anymore, you need Fyodor so badly. You miss him every time he's gone. You miss the person who hurt you.

Maybe you really are going crazy.

You think about the fact that Fyodor took care of you after the punishment, when you were moribund and almost unable to move from the pain, and that his kind behavior ended after all your damages were healed.

You were about to do something crazy, you were aware of it, but you would give anything to feel that angelic temperature change again.

You have a sharp knife in your hand, you squeeze it so hard that your fist turns white. Fyodor never hides sharp objects, only pills, he knows you wouldn't be able to kill yourself with them out of fear.

Something tells you to kill yourself, to teach Fyodor a lesson.

Again your ungrateful thoughts come back, he already told you, you are just a brat. A fucking brat, and what you were doing now proves it.

But can you really blame yourself for this? You just need his attention, you need that love in his hands, you need him to care so much about you that he locks every drawer in the house.

That's why you're here now, in the bathroom, with your elbows resting on the sink and the knife almost brushing against your clean arm. About to kill a part of you to keep his gentleness alive.

You think about whether it's possible that he might be angry with you for this, for staining your skin with wounds without his permission. You think if he gets angry and punishes you it will also be worth it because there is a chance he will take care of you after that like the first time.

Maybe all you need to do is talk it over with him, maybe you need his naked body against yours to keep control, or maybe a simple kiss would be better. Maybe you should relax, maybe you should ask him for a hug, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe….

A cut and the blood starts to spread. You feel an immense urge to vomit, and you regret everything that led you to this moment.

You drop the knife limply and cover the wound with your now free hand. You watch the scene you've made for yourself with wide, shocked eyes. Why did you do all this? Just for Fyodor's attention? How pathetic of you.

You're like a child, crying and screaming, having a tantrum to get what you want.

You don't even heed your thoughts, and your gaze returns to the knife lying in the sink. The fright has dissipated and only silence remains. You need to cut more, how will you make Fyodor care about you with just one cut? You need more, you need to tear your arm if you have to, take your skin off, anything.

It's just a cut.

You move your hand away from the wound, blood is still coming out, but you don't care. You grab the knife, careful not to let it slip through the red fluid, and keep cutting.

It's just a cut, a few cuts, many cuts.

You stop when you get dizzy and lose your balance, drop the knife on the floor and miraculously you don't fall with it. You lean against the wall behind you and watch as the floor fills with your dripping blood. It's too much, too much, oh God, now you're going to die, aren't you? Is that what's going to happen?

You deserve to die, or at least you convince yourself of it, you're just a useless entity in Fyodor's house, what other function do you do here besides pursuing him? It would be like a punishment for being so selfish, for loving Fyodor so much.

Sometimes it surprises you how much you hate yourself just because you are you. Would you hate Fyodor the same way if he were like you? You don't even need to think about it, you already know the answer.

You hear footsteps outside the bathroom. Of course, you made some noise when you dropped the knife and almost fell yourself in the process. Fyodor had to notice, wait, that meant that Fyodor was paying attention to you and the noises you were making. He could just stay absorbed in his work, but no, he's here now.

Three soft knocks on the door are enough to make you tremble.

"Everything okay?"

You cry the instant you hear his voice, yes, there's the soft Fyodor. You recognize hints of tenderness and concern in his voice., you can recognize it.

You shouldn't have cut yourself off, now you change your mind and you don't want Fyodor to see you this way, weak and unbearable. If he realizes that you can't live without him by your side, you're sure he'll leave you, that you'll be too annoying for him and he'll go back to being his old self, this time forever, or until he gets rid of you, until he finds someone better than you. That would be easy.

If there is a God up there, you beg him to let you die. There is no answer. You're left to face your actions alone.

"I've done a stupid thing…"

You still have time to think better of it, you can still barricade yourself in the bathroom and die there. But these are your actions, your consequences.

You shakily open the door.

The look on Fyodor's face is one you've never seen, that keeps you from lowering your head with shame. You've never seen so many emotions in him, all at once, like a whirlpool.

Have you been able to generate that? You don't know whether to consider it a good or bad thing, but a flow of pride runs through your veins.

Fyodor whispers your name, breathless, his accent thickening even more. A part of you actually believed that what you did to yourself would not affect him in any way, how foolish, of course it would affect him. He is human, you are human, but still something tells you that Fyodor is anything but human. His eyes now show you otherwise.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry! I'm such an idiot! I didn't mean to bother you."

Fyodor takes only a few seconds to drag you back into the bathroom. He turns on the sink faucet and guides your arm down the stream of water. It hurts like hell, but complaining doesn't even cross your mind, after all, Fyodor probably stopped doing something important just to cure your mess, you can't give him any more trouble.

Your mind would like to escape your body, but you don't let it because without it you wouldn't be able to feel Fyodor behind you, pressing his chest against your scarred back.

As he runs a soaked towel against your cuts, you decide to lean against him, he doesn't push you away, and you take it as a small victory.

Your brain won't let you enjoy of the moment, giving you reminders of everything the Russian had done to you: the scars on your back, all over your body, the agonizing nightmares, the silent and devastating nights. All a fucking reminder, and yet here you are, against his body.

Your thoughts linger in that confined space until your arm is tight between messy bandages. His hand reaches for yours and your fingers intertwine.

You fear his potential annoyance, his potential punishment. He provokes unique feelings in you, and you love him, but he is terrible, he is just terrible.

Fyodor lets out a sigh, and you know instantly that you are selfish. He is tired, he has better things to do besides taking care of a brat, but still he is still with you. Fyodor is such a merciful being when it came to you, he wouldn't be this way with anyone else, only you. You feel your chest tighten with warmth.

"Fyodor…" You don't want to speak too loudly or break the silence in the room. You try to keep your thoughts in the same rhythm as your voice, quiet and low. You need to be okay, for Fyodor's sake.

"Why?" He squeezes your hand. There is no emotion in his voice, and you feel guilty of your disappointment at that. "Why did you do it?"

"I-" The words decided not to come out of your mouth and closed your throat in a knot, a very painful knot.

What were you supposed to say? Wouldn't admitting your need for attention make you sound like a spoiled child? A brat?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." You say hastily, trying to find words to make Fyodor happy, so he won't hate you for your reckless actions.

"You don't bother me." Bullshit, Fyodor is an almost pathological liar, you should know that, it should be burned into your memory. You'd like to believe him. "Is this why you did all this? Because you think you're bothering me?"

You wish the answer was as easy as that. You shake your head.

"Then why?"

"I needed you." It's not a good explanation, there are a lot of loose questions left, but how else can you tell him? Every time you speak, it's like scratching your throat.

"Needed me? You mean my attention?" You nod, feeling a humiliation run down your throat. "I was with you all these days, what more attention do you want from me?"

It's like a stabbing, like the cuts he gave you on your back. It showed, from afar, you were just a pet that can't be away from its owner or it would break into pieces. You shouldn't be crying either, you have no good reason to.

"Hey, no, stop." He turns your body without effort. All you do is keep your head down, full of shame, though it doesn't last long, as his free hand lifts it up and lands against your cheek. You don't deserve it, you can't even stop crying. "What did I say? Why are you crying this time?"

"I'm a spoiled brat." You lean against his cold hand, you needed his touch so badly.

"You're not, you just wanted me to give you attention, that's not a bad thing."

"It is! I'm being selfish." The sobs interrupt you, and you close your eyes, you don't want to look at Fyodor. How can you ask for love and attention from Fyodor when you yourself don't know how to love properly?

"Selfish? Why?" Your reason that the only reason for his question is to make you humiliate yourself, to make you admit that you are a nuisance.

"B-Because you were probably busy, I'm just bothering you trying to get your attention…"

"I want you to pay close attention to me right now, can you do that?" Even if you couldn't do it, you would anyway. You're not lying when you nod in response. He's all you can think about and fixate on, everything else is ephemeral and useless, nothing else is needed for you.

"Good... You don't bother me, I understand you want more attention from me, I made your mind that way anyway. Stop feeling bad about doing things you're programmed to do." Hearing him admit that, is like a war in your head, you should care that Fyodor played with your mind like a stuffed animal, but what you should is not the same as what you do. It feels like a relief to know that it is Fyodor is causing it all, and it's nicer than you ever imagined.

Your mind will never go back to normal after this. You will never be the same after this. That's okay, you can live with it as long as you have Fyodor by your side.

You collapse against him, hugging him with no intention of letting go. He accepts you in his arms. Now everything is warm again like it was that time, you needed it so badly after everything that had happened.

"It's just that you've been acting more distant and I thought-" Do you really want to keep talking and sobbing nonsense? You have no intended trajectory with your words.

You just hope Fyodor understands you, it's the only thing that will give you calm.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, no need to cry anymore, моя крошка." His hands on your back undeniably comfort you. His touch feels like fire, but it doesn't burn, it just leaves a trail of warmth and desire everywhere it passes.

You are a sensitive, desperate mess, and no one knows how to love you but Fyodor. He is the God you have always pleaded to, now you understand why he never granted your wish to die.

"This is strange for me. I've never cared for anyone before, and I really don't want to hurt you unintentionally." And there's your long-awaited why. It's warmer than you could have ever thought, your heart is silently grateful. He's trying, that's good enough for you.

Maybe you can't go back to that first day of care after punishment, maybe you can't go back to that new and gentle Fyodor, but those are things that happen and that's okay.

You nod, oblivious to your own reality, everything feels correct. "I get it, it's okay, yeah. You don't have to worry, I'm fine now."

But you keep crying.

You don't know or need to know how long you stood there, holding each other as if both of your lives depended on it. In total silence until Fyodor's voice broke it. No doubt that's your favorite tune.

"моя любовь, I never responded properly to your confession, did I?" He never did, but he never denied it. There was always a glimmer of hope that you took as the word yes, as total acceptance of your feelings.

You look at him with enlightened eyes, you wished that what your mind was imagining was real.

"I love you too."

Fyodor's love is paralyzing. You notice it now.

my favorite part is the dog part, idk, I like how it turned out

[treasure444]

Kinktober Day 3 (October 5)

“Don’t make me choose” with John Price!!

Prompt is from @hawksredfeather

Kinktober Masterlist HERE

Being with a military man was not easy, but no one told you it would be. You expected it to be this way, but it still sucked going through it. John had been cold, and detached the last couple days. You attributed it to the job, and not being able to text him had made you a little sour.

He was supposed to be coming home tonight. You had it marked on the calendar months ago, before he left and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited. You spent the entire day cleaning the house. The kitchen and dining room were spotless, your shared bedroom had been deep cleaned, and you changed the sheets. The bathroom had been another space that you spent deep cleaning. Even going so far as to clean up his office space.

The hours ticked by, you had cooked one of his favorite dishes for him, though you weren’t completely sure when he’d be home. You were getting more and more worried as the night went on. You tried calling him several times, but it went straight to voicemail. You frowned and decided to wait for him, by sitting on the couch.

The television was on a low volume, you weren’t really paying attention to it. Glancing at your phone every few minutes, you wondered if maybe he’d call you. You had already left at least 2 voicemails that you remember, you didn’t want to continue to call him. Maybe his flights got delayed.

It wasn’t long after that you heard the front door open, and got up to go into the den. Sure enough, there John was kicking his work boots off. “Welcome home,” you said, fighting the urge to run over to him.

John looked up and nodded at you, before walking right past. You frowned and turned in your spot to see him disappear into the bedroom; the door closing completely behind him.

You tried to rationalize why he would be acting this way, but you just couldn’t in your mind. No matter how long or grueling his mission had been, no matter how exhausted he had been, he always greeted you. Why was this any different?

You carefully walked into the bedroom, not wanting to startle John. You looked around the room, to not find him. The door to the attached bathroom had been shut, and the shower started the moment you walked in.

You sighed and sat on your side of the bed, content to wait for him. After eight months of him being away, you just wanted to hear his voice again.

It had been close to 15 minutes later, when the water stopped and woke you from your daze. John strolled out into the main bedroom wearing nothing but a towel. You noticed a few new scars and gashes on his torso. “I made you dinner.” You spoke softly, not entirely sure what was going on with him.

He merely grunted and turned to his closet, when you tried again. “You don’t have to talk to me about anything that happened, but can we please have a conversation? I know that your job is stressful, and I miss you like crazy when you’re gone. I wanted to–”

“Please. Stop talking.” John’s voice rang out, somehow deeper than you remember.

You could feel the impact of his words in your chest. Crawling to the edge of the bed, you cautiously reached out your hand and gently wrapped your hand around his bicep.

John shook you off and moved across the room so you couldn’t touch him. The crack that had formed in your heart had gotten larger. “John..” you whispered.

He shook his head, “no. No. This is not,” his hands gripped his hair and he tugged, “I can’t do this.”

Your eyes misted over, “what do you mean by ‘this’?”

“I can’t do this right now.” John started for the door.

You ran and stood in front of the door, “I need you to make a choice, John. If you walk out right now, you’re choosing your job over me. If you walk out of this room, I will pack my stuff and leave.” Tears started falling from your eyes.

John shook his head, “Don’t make me choose.” He lifted his hand as if to comfort you, but didn’t move.

“John, please.”

“I am so sorry,” He whispered and lowered his hand.

You shook your head as he reached for the door, and walked out into the den.

Closing the door behind him, you turned and slid down it crying into your knees. The relationship had just ended, and you weren’t sure where that left you.

[cosmicanamnesis]

everybody loves a coffeeshop au

[part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [read on ao3]

October 10th

The first time the cute metalhead came into the Waystation, Steve was on bar and didn't catch his name. His order wasn't complicated, but it was long. Three medium black coffees, one small London fog, a large half sweet vanilla latte with soy milk, and a small hot chocolate. He'd paid in cash, leaving the change in the tip jar, and left in a hurry balancing the drink carriers on top of each other. If it hadn't been in the middle of a rush, Steve would've run around the counter and offered to hold the door for him.

Fortunately for Steve, he came in the next day, at the same time, with the same order, and Steve was on register this time.

"And can I get a name for the order?" Steve asked, punching the drinks into the computer.

"Eddie," the man said.

"Awesome. We'll have that all at the end for you," Steve said with a smile. Eddie dropped his change in the tip jar and wordlessly walked away. 

One of Steve's favorite parts of the job was getting to talk to beautiful people. Not everyone was, of course, but a few times a day a customer would come in with long curly hair or beautiful eyes or a charming smile and Steve would fall in love with them for thirty seconds and then usually never see them again and it was fine. It was fun. It was harmless.

Eddie had all those things, all the things Steve was a sucker for, but unlike all the others, Eddie kept coming back.

It took a month or so, but eventually everyone in the shop had either taken or made Eddie's order so many times that they all knew what it was and could start making it before he'd even reached the counter. Or rather, immediately abandon Steve and force him to make it.

It was fine with Steve, though. He didn't mind making long orders, and it gave him a chance to chat with Eddie, not that he ever did. If he were a little braver, maybe he would talk, maybe ask where Eddie works, maybe get the story on why he comes in alone every day to carry an entire office's worth of drinks out.

Maybe get his number.

But Steve wasn't braver, and instead of talking to him, he contented himself to just make the drinks and sneak glances whenever he could to admire the way Eddie's hair fell over his shoulders, the way his rings glinted and drew attention to his hands, the way he would sometimes stick his tongue out, just a little, if he was really absorbed in whatever he was doing.

Steve really wanted his number.

December 3rd

“Steve!” Robin yelled from the register. ��Your boyfriend’s here!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Steve huffed, but came up front anyway as the bell on the door chimed. “Hey Eddie. Usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie nodded, handing Steve a wad of ones and fives. He dropped the change in the tip jar, like every day, and went to the end of the counter to wait. Steve watched him as he made the order. He wasn’t doing anything, just looking at his phone, but the cold outside had flushed his cheeks bright red and Steve couldn’t help but stare.

“Is it snowing out there yet?” he asked, putting lids on the plain coffees and popping them into a carrier.

“Huh? Oh, no. Is it supposed to?” Eddie seemed surprised that someone was talking to him, but he looked up anyway, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Steve shrugged. “Pretty much every old lady in here this morning has complained about their arthritis and the weather, so I just assumed.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie laughed, leaning on the counter. Steve wanted to listen to him laugh all day.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Perks of the job, y’know? Never have to check the weather, just wait until somebody with a bad knee comes in.”

“I always thought that was a myth.”

“I dunno, man,” Steve shrugged again, sliding the drink carriers onto the counter. Eddie was smiling at him, wild curls framing his face. “They only had to be right a couple times to make me a believer.”

“Well,” Eddie said, carefully stacking the drinks on top of each other. “If it starts snowing later, I might start believing it too.”

Steve could’ve sworn Eddie winked at him on his way out.

“Oh my god, that was pathetic,” Robin said, reemerging from the back. “If you’re gonna flirt with him, just flirt with him. Is it snowing yet? Fuck off.”

“Wait, did Steve finally talk to that guy?” Chrissy, their assistant manager, poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorta,” Robin chided. 

“I honestly don’t know what you see in him, Steve,” Chrissy said, bringing a tray of pastries up front to put in the case.

“What? What do you mean?” Steve crossed his arms.

“Nothing! Just… He’s kinda weird, isn’t he? Like, standoffish?” She looked to Robin, who nodded. “I mean, you do you, but…”

“Wait, is this why you guys always shove me up front when he’s here?”

The girls looked at each other and then at Steve.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Chrissy admitted.

“You’re the only one that doesn’t mind him, so… He’s your problem,” Robin agreed.

“Proud of you for actually working up the nerve to talk to him, though.”

“Yeah, even if it was just about the stupid weather.”

Sure enough, it started snowing within the hour.

December 30th, Afternoon

Robin had begged Steve to swap shifts with her so she could go on a date. Normally Steve was an opener. He liked it, because he was naturally an early riser and opening meant more time after work to get shit done. But she had begged, and she was his best friend, so even though taking her closing shift messed with his whole routine, he agreed to swap. Plus, it meant he would have all of New Year’s Eve off, and that was pretty cool too.

It also meant accidentally finding out where Eddie worked.

Steve lived close enough to the cafe to walk there, and the walk took him past places that were usually still closed when he came in in the mornings. Antique store, jeweler, boutique, boutique, hair salon, tattoo parlor…

Steve took a couple steps back and looked in the front window of the tattoo place. Eddie happened to look up from whatever he was doing at that exact moment and gave him a confused sort of look. Steve just smiled and gave Eddie a small wave before going back on his way.

Well, it could’ve been more awkward.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 14: Enjoy the Silence

Gif by @hunterschafer

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: The final heat...

Word Count: 7k

Rating: R

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Has it really been a year? I wish I had a better excuse than "I haven't been doing great." But that's what it is. I've had huge changes in my life. New job, new career, new goals, and a greater sense of self-worth. I'm feeling a lot better. But my new schedule is busy! Hopefully you can forgive me for such a long cliffhanger.

Finally, a heads up. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

I also did the absolute most and made a specific playlist just for this chapter here.

Forever thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, shared, boosted, made content for, and supported me. It meant a lot and definitely kept this fic in the back of my mind. As always, most love to my girl @musings-of-a-rose who has tolerated me being a shitty friend for a whole ass year, and always talking things through with me in life and in this fic. Cheers.

Suggested Songs: Depeche Mode "Enjoy the Silence", Fitz and the Tantrums: "Out of My League", Lizzo "Truth Hurts", Michael Kiwanuka "Cold Little Heart", Cigarettes After Sex "Cry", Guster "Demons"

Frankie and you decided to break your apartment lease starting October 1st. Fall term started on the 30th of August, and you wanted time to settle into your schedule before planning a move. You spent almost all your time at his house anyway, only stopping back at your apartment for more clothes. Frankie had already given you a row of drawers to keep your things in.

You’d honestly never been happier, both on cloud 9 and it never faded, you were incredibly excited to begin this new start with Frankie and Gabi. It all seemed to have happened so fast. It had only been five months, you hadn’t even told your family about him yet, mostly to avoid comments on the age gap. 

You were relieved the hiccup in your relationship settled, you didn’t like feeling unsure or that someone resented you. When you started feeling secure again, you clung to it. That sparkle of joy was hard to keep in check.

You picked your Fall schedule out together and spent the remaining weeks of summer basking in your relationship, playing with Gabi, going out with the guys, and constant fucking. But your most favorite thing was still lying on the couch with Frankie, teasing each other and watching bad TV.

“This is simultaneously the best and worst movie I have ever seen in my life. I don’t understand how they achieved this.”

Frankie shrugs, reaching to your lap for the giant bowl of popcorn, his eyes still glazed to the TV where Mad Max: Fury Road is playing. “I dunno. Who cares? It’s cars and chaos!”

“And Tom Hardy. And Charlize Theron.”

He pinches you on the waist, acting threatened by your thirst just to tease you. “You ever been to a demo derby? This kind of reminds me of it.”

You sit up from where your back is resting against his chest. “Um, no? Isn’t that kind of…for rednecks?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but Benny and Will are rednecks. But no, it’s for anyone who likes cars crashing into each other. There’s actually one at the fair every year. We always go to it. You should come.”

“I’m not going to a demo derby.”

“Aw come on! It’ll be fun! First time for Gabi too, and there’s rides and games and funnel cake and fried oreos—” He pauses as you hold your hand up to silence him.

“I’ll go. You had me at ‘funnel cake.’”

The fair is packed. The final hurrah of the summer before kids return to school and university students dive back into their studies. The derby started at 8 PM sharp, you, Dali, and the boys got there plenty early to look around a bit, get some food, and find seats.

You forgo any typical entree and go right for the funnel cake, heaping fruit and extra powdered sugar on it until the plate is a big mound of sweet. The guys had talked you up on this for days, Benny wouldn’t shut up about it, and you found yourself excited to watch. Your legs bounce impatiently as you scarf down your cake, breaking off pieces here and there to feed to Gabi and your boys.

The seats were bleachers, hard metal planks that hurt your butt and back and caught vibration from every footfall, but Pope sat behind you so you could lean back against his legs to be more comfortable. 

It’s a long wait. The bleachers eventually fill up, you certainly had the best seat in the house (thank you Will), and you could see the hoods up of participating cars behind the commentator podium. The air is musty, the odor of wet dirt from a quick August shower earlier that day.

When the first round of vehicles start revving their engines, Frankie pulls some earphones for Gabi and secures it to her head. Once he’s sure she’s comfortable, he quickly runs you through the basic rules. “So there’s several ‘heats’, and which heat you’re in is based on how many cylinders the car has. Last car moving is the winner, but you can’t just avoid the other cars the whole time. No continuing if your car starts sparking from the engine, no hitting the driver side door, and no hitting anyone who’s already out.” 

“Wait, cars catch on fire in this?”

Before Frankie can answer, the announcer calls out the first heat and you almost choke at the state of the cars coming out. They were completely dilapidated, windows punched out and hood frames reinforced with extra steel. It looked like each entry had about 5 different parts all from different cars, horrendous paint jobs, and one of them even had a stuffed dinosaur duct taped to the hood. Some of them looked like they had already been hit by cars, parts hanging off and bumpers pressing in on itself. None of these cars would last at all. There’s no way...

The rink was surrounded by giant cement cinder blocks creating a large “rink” type area. The contestants lined the front bumpers of their vehicles up parallel to each other at the barricades separating the cars from the bleachers, alternately revving their engines during the countdown.

“Okay, so, usually we all pick the car we think is going to win.” Benny says. You lean forward to look over the assortment of jacked up cars for this heat, eventually settling on an old Toyota Corolla painted a matte black. Benny chooses the dino car, Will chooses a Dodge Stealth with it’s headlights hanging outside the socket, Dali and Pope argue over a Ford Taurus whose back end was already smashed into the back seats, and Frankie chooses a Chevy Impala, which you immediately regret not taking because it has such a long front and back end. Lots of room for smashing and being able to keep going.

Gabi jumps up and down on Frankie’s lap as he points out things to her over the sounds of engines and a countdown, and then the cars are off off, engines roaring and dirt kicking up as they all reverse at full speed, several of them crunching up in the middle while others circle around the perimeters.

It soon becomes clear to you that there is no rhyme or reason to which car makes it and which doesn’t. Pope’s Taurus didn’t even start and is eliminated after 2 minutes of no movement, and whoever is driving the boxy piece of shit Honda Accord that Dali had to select is a fucking maniac, winding and weaving at full speed backwards, hitting whoever gets in their way. Her choice is the winner of that heat. 

Most of them are driving backwards, and Will tells you it’s because they are trying to protect the engine. You deflate in your seat a little in disappointment, but he assures you that as the heat winds down and there's fewer cars taking up the space, the drivers and announcer will get impatient and they will hit each other head to head.

You’re shocked at how much you enjoy it. At one point a car hits the passenger side door of another so hard that it is pushed up and onto the barricade wall from the inertia, hanging from an angle as the crowd jeers and shrieks in excitement. One car flips over completely, another’s engine bursts into flames and the crowd all starts crying out caution because the announcer can’t see it. You’ve never seen anything like it before and there was so much fire you were sure the whole thing would blow up, but the driver slid out the glassless driver’s side window like it was no big deal and walked it off.

There is something satisfying about two cars hitting each other at full speed, the bodies of them crunching, wheels hanging off axles, bumpers being dragged behind and run over by other drivers, cars with mangled pieces becoming stuck to each other so they can’t separate until another car hits them, tires completely gone and cars only moving on its hubs. It’s chaos in a safe format, a way to experience destruction and violence in a way that feels good and unharmful. 

Gabi has never been so amazed in her entire life, her mouth hangs open and she wriggles against her dad to see everything, laughing every time a collision happens. The audience oohs and ahhs and boos and screams and cheers and teases, you and your friends join the clamor as you have your own mini competition with yourselves.  

Giant fork tractors come into the arena area to lift the cars that can’t move anymore, some guys are able to get theirs back up and running, driving them to the sides to shape up for the final Battle Royale.

The final heat is fucking wild. All the cars that were already battered enough before they even began to come back out, returned to do another round for the final winner. With all the action you’d barely even noticed that contestants whose cars were still driveable had spent the remaining heats beyond the barricades hammering and reforming their vehicles enough to compete again. 

And at the end, the winner of all faces the crowd, pulls off their helmet to reveal a thick curly mass of long hair.  The winner is a woman. You and Dali cheer until your throats hurt.

It’s over too soon. There’s a mass exodus the instant the derby is over, the packed stadium standing and pouring down the stairs pressing so tight that you and your boys decide to hang back until it thins out. You lead the way, Frankie’s large and warm hand grazing your waist as you slowly move down the stairs and back out into the fair, turning to wait for the rest of your friends to make it out.

“What next?” Benny says when you are all reunited. “More food? Games? Rides?”

“I’m not eating more before getting on rides, let's do those now.” Says Frankie, grumbling as he hears you tease him with Benny. He whips his head around to glare at you. “Just you wait until you get older and start getting sick on rides, I cannot wait to make fun of you back.”

The wait for the ride tickets is long, but it leaves plenty of time for the group to decide how many are needed. Who is riding what, who isn’t, what pairings and who will watch Gabi on the rides she can’t do. You’re surprised when Will and Pope back out of the Zipper, leaving you and Benny as a pairing for that.

Riding it was a mistake. The ride is basically a giant airborne conveyer belt with completely enclosed containers for people hanging off it that were 360 degree capable. And it lasted FOREVER. You lose some of your funnel cake behind the ride out of sight, threatening violence on Benny if he outs you to the others. 

But it didn’t stop you from riding The Freak Out immediately afterwards, a rotating pendulum swing that made you feel like you were going to be catapulted out of your seat. The ride seated 4 groups of 4 so that in between squeezing your eyes shut, you could catch watery glimpses of Benny red-faced and cackling hysterically, Will’s chants of “ohfuckohfuckohfuckOHfuckOHFUCKOHSHIT FUCCCCCCK!”, and Frankie looking…absolutely fine. It was almost disturbing really, he was calm and collected, the only hint that this might have been something other than a nice drive in his truck was his giant smile, the tears leaking from his squinted eyes, his chocolate curls whipping around in the breeze as his hands clutch his hat in his lap with a steel grip.

“How the fuck were you so calm?!” You gasp as you stumble off the rickety landing platform. You hadn’t moved yet you felt like you had run a mile, your heart was beating so fast from the adrenaline it almost felt like you might have a heart attack. 

Frankie shrugs. “Feels like a copter in a bad air current.” 

You simply stare blinking. 

“No, he’s always like this. Like this one time, we were flying in a helo over the Andes mountains, and—”

A sharp stare from Frankie that he tries to hide from you makes Benny backpedal. 

“Uhhh yea we were flying over some mountains and the air current was wild but we got over the mountains just fine and everything was fine and we were fine.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, that same feeling of not being told something creeping up. You hate it. You push it back down, swallowing heavily to center yourself. “So I assume you were fine.”

“Yea. Yea. Cat is a good pilot.” 

You hum, the panic still not leaving your chest.

Frankie grabs your hand as you walk. “It happened a lot, I just got used to it.”

“It happened a lot?”

“Yea. I mean, sometimes we were flying through shit climates, sometimes even pursued. Doesn’t make for a smooth ride. I’m just used to it. They always scream bloody murder though.” Frankie smiles softly.

“Oh.”

You go silent, continuing to walk to the next destination: the scrambler. You had already established you would not ride and Dali wanted some funnel cake herself, so she heads off while you stay off to the side with Gabi to watch, lost in your own thoughts.

“Just don’t fucking talk about that, none of that. That never happened.” Frankie seethes to Benny as they are strapped into the ride. 

“Sorry dude, I can’t read your thoughts. I figured she knew.”

“No. I don’t want her to know. No one else needs to know about it.”

Benny falls silent, looking to Will beside him. Pope lowers his head, choosing to say nothing.

“Catfish…you have to.” Says Will.

“No the fuck I don’t. I never want her to know. If she knows…she’ll actually see ‘real me’. ‘Fuck-up me.” And I don't want her to yet. I don’t want to lose her yet. I don’t want her to be afraid. Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

They stop. But only because the ride starts, and they can’t see anything other than blurs.

You hate this feeling, this fluttering in your stomach like something is wrong but your heart knows, it knows it’s fine. It has to be. Your mind is spinning, trying to combat the rising anxiety clenching in your chest, doing gymnastics to find reasons to not be alarmed.

He’s not lying about something. He’s not. …He promised….I’m just overthinking this…

You can’t. You refuse to even think about it. Confronting the terrible possibility that you might’ve done it again, you might have thrown yourself all in to someone only to—-no. 

He’s not lying. He’s not. …He promised….he’s different. I’m just overthinking this…

You can feel butterflies bubbling in your stomach and you feel like you might throw up. Fucking men. You huff in frustration and try to distract yourself with your surroundings, watching people on rides, sharing funnel cake. Your eyes scan over two men staring at you silently by a skewered chicken cart and in your current mood it makes you furious. “What the fuck are you staring at?!” You growl at them. They say nothing and slowly walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Fucking. Men.

You try not to let your emotions show. You sit back while Gabi goes on some rides for her age, using the time to rehydrate and calm yourself down. Living through Gabi’s joy helps.. She’s having a blast, choosing a different person to pair with for each time ride. Pope in the Wacky House, the Helicopters with her dad, Benny on the mini Viking ship. Once you feel better you join in to play bumper cars (Will and Gabi win) and ride the high-rise swings with her seated in the cool metal chair next to you, Benny singing along to the ambient speakers playing “Out of My League” so loud eventually all the other teens on the ride join in.You enjoy the mini coaster more than you thought you would considering it’s for kids Gabi’s age, you and Dali are the only others who can fit in the seats, no matter how hard Benny tried. It was easy to quickly forget.

After the coaster, Gabi begins to slow down, so you hit the fried oreo stand, paying for several batches despite protestation and alternately feeding everyone as the group slowly walks through the agricultural parts of the fair. It’s calmer here, the air warm and quiet. The pathway is less crowded so Gabi is able to frolic around on the walkway in front of you safely. 

You walk through every barn, stopping to pet every animal. She’s a natural with them. Completely fearless, not one flicker of apprehension as she approaches cows and horses that are easily 6 times her height, paying close attention to her dad in how to not spook them. Everyone finds the goats to be the favorite because of the sounds they make. Even more so when Frankie engages in a screaming contest back and forth with a bunch of them until someone shoos them out of the pavilion.

Soon, all the sugar Gabi consumed rears its ugly head in the rabbit barn, she throws a fit when Frankie won’t let her get a pet rabbit and you only just catch her upper arm in time to keep her from collapsing on the filthy barn floor. You’re surprised she held out so long. Even you were crashing and getting tired. Also, the rabbits were ridiculously cute.

“Listen Gabi, how about we ride the ferris wheel? Would you like that?” You kneel before her, swiping the tears off her cheeks as she catches her breath. “It goes really high! Higher than the swings!” She nods, sniffing in a snot bubble as she takes your hand. The two of you lead the way, and as you get closer and closer, you start to regret your decision. 

It’s much taller than the Freak Out. By more than 100 feet. It doesn’t look very stable either.

“Wait...this…this looks kind of high, don’t you think?” You turn to the guys, trying to conceal the wavering in your voice. You were scared enough at 70 feet. This was more like 200.

“Height requirement says she’s fine. And it’s enclosed, goes really slow. Come on.” Frankie takes you by the hand and your heart leaps into your throat, your feet skidding across the lawn as you try to pull back. 

A light shove pushes you forward and you turn to glare at Will as he smirks down at you. “If you don’t go I’m never going to let you hear the end of it. Not after you called us “old and broken down.”

Well shit.

“Fine.”

You’re shaking when it’s your turn, the group mad dashing to three cars next to each other so you could talk throughout. Benny pairs with Pope, Gabi is vibrating with excitement as she’s put into a carriage by Will and Dali, and Frankie is beaming as he motions you towards the left car. He pats your butt as you gingerly step in, waiting until you’re seated before joining you and taking your hand. 

“Babe…are you okay?”

You swallow, grateful it’s dark enough he can’t see you trembling. “Yep. I’m good.” 

He leans forward in his seat, the glowing phosphorescence of the lights of the ride and around the fair bathing him halfway in a multicolored glow. tThe colors and shadows fold into the angles of his face like rainbow chiaroscuro, an angular stained glass window. He takes your hand again, yours is swallowed in his palm and you close your eyes as he rubs his thumb across the top. The dark beat of Depeche Mode pounds against your chest and echoes in your ears and you briefly imagine this is what it must feel like to drop acid.

“Your hands are really sweaty…and you’re breathing really fast. Are you sure you’re okay? Hey…” He squeezes your palm and you open your eyes to meet his. “It’s okay if you’re scared. I won’t joke anymore about it, I’m sorry.”

You swallow. “It’s just really really high.”

Frankie watches the ride operator out of the corner of his eye passing their car as he makes sure everyone is safely locked in before tugging on your arm slightly. You slide forward minutely, he meets you more than halfway with his large limbs and rests his hands on your hips. You gasp as the ride jolts and begins rolling, lifting the cabs up in the air. His calloused fingertip pushes your head back up.

“How about I distract you.” He murmurs, shifting forward one inch more, tilting his neck as his soft pouty lips meet yours. 

You close your eyes, trying to lose your self awareness into him and his mouth and the soft skin of his nose that bumps your cheek and tickles your nose with its little breaths. 

The lift mechanism suddenly shudders, clunking over something and it feels like when you run over a squirrel in your car. You inhale sharply against Frankie’s lips as your cab jostles back and forth. Not much, but enough for you to slam yourself back against your seat and clutch the seat bottom as hard as you can. Your heart beats wildly and you imagine the ride breaking and dropping you on the ground to be crushed to death by this stupid fucking metal cab.

You feel pressure on your knees and look down, focusing hard to not see double from fear. Frankie cups both in his hands, thumbs lightly stroking the inside of your thighs. “It’s okay.” He reassures, squeezing your knees once more. “Probably an under-greased cog, it’s nothing. They test these things like 50 times a day.”

You simply stare, forcing yourself to nod. 

“Close your eyes.”

You open your mouth to argue then close it and obey. You trust Frankie, and it can’t be any worse. 

“Just focus on me. And…you hear the music? It’s called “Enjoy the Silence.” I was obsessed with this song when it came out. And can you hear Benny below us? I can hear Gabi laughing too. We’re all okay, you’re okay too.”

You bite your lips into your mouth, focusing on the song and Frankie’s husky voice. The meditative synth pop calms you, and the carefree voices of your friends below does help calm you, but you can’t slow down your heartbeat. 

“I’m okay. Just too much adrenaline.”

The hands on your knees slide up your bare thighs and wrap around the bottoms of them. Frankie pulls you forward in your seat with a smirk. “I’m feeling a little amped up too.”

“Frankie.”

He doesn’t respond, his sole focus on your thighs as his hands slide up and up and up until he is just able to slip the tip of one of his fingers under one leg of your shorts. For some reason, it pisses you off.

“Frankie!” You hiss. “People could see us.”

“Nah…” He shushes you, his finger sliding lower. 

You clamp your legs shut and push his hand back in his direction. “Frankie, I don’t want to right here.” 

He sits up. “Oh.”

Suddenly you hear Benny’s voice from below. “Hello we are underneath you guys! I don’t want to hear any hooking up sounds!” He trolls, and you fully push Frankie back to his side, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

It’s the first time you can remember that it’s ever been uncomfortably awkward between the two of you, and you’re not sure why. The silence seems so much more noticeable and weird against the clanking of the Ferris wheel gears and the chattering of random other people.

You’re not even looking at each other, you realize. When did that happen? Your neck cranes to the left as you gaze at the stars, and when you turn back towards Frankie, he is looking to the right and down at the fair. 

“…Is everything okay?”

His eyes snap back to yours. “Yea? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Cause I pushed you away, and…I dunno, you’re being weird..”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s not intentional. I’m not upset, c’mere.” He opens his arms wide to you, scooting on his bench so there’s enough room for you.

You hesitate. “Won’t it…won’t it throw off the balance?”

You feel ridiculous asking but he doesn’t laugh at you, just shakes his head slightly. “Nah, they wouldn’t be able to run this ride if people couldn’t sit on the same side.”

You balance awkwardly on the edge of your bench overanalyzing what exact moment during the track of the ride to launch onto his, but you overthink it and end up jostling the cab more than necessary. Frankie’s arms pull you into his side and you burrow your face in his neck as the cab continues to rock. The music fades from Depeche Mode to Lizzo to Lil’ Nas X (Will clearly enjoys that one) and then back to Lizzo, and you forget all about your uneasiness.

He was right. It did feel better being with him. 

The ride does one more pass then rolls to a halt, letting off you with Frankie and Benny with Santiago. You hover at the exit for Will and Gabi, who have to wait for their cab to reach the platform before dismounting. Frankie takes your hand as you wait.

Gabby’s adrenaline rush runs out fast, and you spend the remainder of the fair eating more fried Oreos and playing games. Somehow you manage to beat them all at the water shooting game, which amps up the competitiveness to the point you’d rather just watch.

Which is how you end up at the “star” game. 

“We’re so fucking good at this game, it pisses them off every time.” Laughs Benny, as he shoots the entire Star out perfectly with the gun that is specifically not given enough ammo to achieve this. You hop up on the far side of the counter to watch, noting the way each of you boys handles their weapon and the differences in each. Benny held his gun loosely, like he was relaxed and self assured. It almost seemed like you would be able to slap it out of his hands but you knew he still had an iron grip. Will was precise and, as you expected, “perfect form”. You could tell just from Pope’s posture change that he was the best shot on the team, you’d never seen him look so focused. Frankie held his with a tense white knuckle grip, the folding stock tucked against his shoulder joint. The tension carrying up his arms as his veins popped out in his forearms and biceps. He looked fucking good. And you wouldn’t consider yourself a “gun person.” In fact, you kind of hated them. But there just was something about a strong non-douchey man holding a rifle like that that activated you. Damn the patriarchy. Even Dali is a great shot, though not as good as the guys.

After a few rounds, the carnie finally stopped allowing your posse to keep playing, frustrated that somehow the rigging system didn’t work on your group. You lean back on your hands, your legs swinging against the wood counter, observing Benny arguing with the carnie with a smirk. Gabi is passed out in her stroller next to you as Frankie sidles up to you, feeding you a piece of Fried Reeses, then promptly kissing you so the taste floats between you. 

He hums deeply, stepping closer to you til he’s between your legs. His hands rest low on the top of your thighs. “This ok?”

You smile. “Yes. More than okay. And I want more.” 

Frankie beams and cups your face, his lips crashing into yours as he all but breathes you in. You tilt your head and poke his mouth with your tongue. He responds immediately and opens for you, meeting you halfway. You whine softly as his hands leave your cheeks and trail down your back, one hand sneaking a bit lower to discreetly cup your ass. You’ve just wound your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck when you hear a shrill voice cut through the din of the dwindling crowd.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your heart slams to a halt so fast it hurts. You recognize that voice. And so does Frankie. Your heads both snap to the left as a disheveled looking Lex stands there with a bunch of her friends.

Frankie simply stares. She repeats herself. “Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. The BABYSITTER? Are you fucking your BABYSITTER??? Oh Frankie…come on…how pathetic can you be? She’s like a child!”

You look at Frankie, receding into himself like a silent, terrified puppy. You’ve never seen him like this before, it unnerves you.

“Excuse me.” You snap back. “I am 28.”

She scoffs. I fucking knew something was going on with you two. And you’re doing this in front of my child?”

“Well, actually, Gabi is sleeping. At least she was, until you came ranting and raving.” You make eye contact with Pope, who reads your perfectly and starts steering Gabi’s stroller away so she can’t hear. “We made sure to be careful for her but why do you even care if we are fucking? You left him! You didn’t want him anymore, so it shouldn’t fucking matter who he dates.” 

“He’s a drug addict and a pathological liar. He will NEVER change.”

“Yea? And you are a drunk, controlling, OCD bitch who can’t mind her own fucking business. He’s happy with me. I trust him. Unlike you. Bye.” You couldn’t help yourself, you just fucking hated her.

But that set her off. “Did he tell you why he was suspended?”

“Yes, he—“

“Did he tell you he was high, flying a family and he almost injured everyone from a sloppy landing? Did he tell you how he would take Gabi to his drug dealers house with him? How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper? That I deliberately asked him not to because we had a new baby? That he crashed their helicopter, dropped all their money and shot innocent villagers to keep them from getting it? At children and old men adn women? That because of that, Molly’s husband was shot in the fucking head by one of those people? And then they couldn’t even bring the money back so it was all for no reason?”

She’s shouting now, spittle flying from her inebriated lips. One of her friends tries to grab her arm but she shakes them off. People in the crowd are starting to stop and watch. “Then, THEN, he treated me like shit, saying horrible things to me just when he was mad, throwing things, scaring me!”

You feel like you can’t breathe, it’s too much information all at once. “...What? I don’t…No. no, he said he was on a delta mission–”

“Oh sweetheart,” She sneers condescendingly. “He was on a greed mission. He was retired from delta. This was like a year ago. They all wanted to get rich and robbed a fucking drug kingpin and Frankie shot innocent people to make sure he got alllllll that money. And because of that, his friend was shot and killed and his family has NO idea why. He lied to you.”

You turn to look at him, and all his friends. Everyone is silent, trying not to look up from the ground. Dali looks as bewildered as you. “Frankie…?” Tears water in your eyes and you feel like your heart is going to burst. You thought he told you it was an enlisted mission, but on top of everything else you just learned your thoughts are rushing so fast you can’t seem to remember specifics. 

Frankie can’t even look at you. And that’s how you know. 

It’s true…

“Lex. Stop.” Will’s Southern drawl cuts through the silence, the commanding officer in him coming out. “It’s over. This shit between you two has to stop. Enough.” His eyes shift to Lex’s friends, who are nodding and repeating the same thing. Lex finally allows them to pull her away muttering under her breath, sending one last glare in your direction.

The walk to the truck is silent. The ride home is a foggy blur. But the minute you step into the house, you crack. 

“Frankie please tell me all this is not true.” You can’t read him at all, his face is completely blank as he moves around you towards Gabi’s bedroom to tuck her in.

So you wait.

His hackles are already up when he comes back out.

“Frankie–”

“Yea.”

“Well?”

“Yea. It’s true. We tried to steal money from one of Pope’s cases and it backfired and Tom got shot.”

“Because of you.”

His expression changes then, from blank nothing to vicious defensive anger. “Yea. Because of me. I fucked up the flight back and we crash landed and these fuckin’ villagers were gonna take the money! And it was an accident!”

“You ‘accidentally’ shot innocent people?”

He swallows, his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see he’s doing mental gymnastics in order to avoid accountability. 

“Did your finger slip?”

No answer. 

“Frankie. Did your finger slip on the trigger?”

You already know the answer before he says it. And somehow it’s like he morphs into a Disney villain as he says it. “No. My finger didn’t slip.”

It burns, the sharp pain in your heart that makes you feel like it’s having a seizure or forgot how to pump blood or is pumping too much blood. “How many people did you kill.”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?! Frankie, you told me this was your job! You- you fucking lied to me! I-I I asked you if you were hiding anything else from me and you fucking lied to me!” You can’t help your voice raising, the tears spilling out of your eyes as you realize how fucking stupid you had been. Somewhere in the background you can hear Gabi has woken and is hysterically crying. Frankie, clearly having enough, turns back towards her room. But you continue, screaming at his back. “And that’s why Tom is dead? And his family doesn’t know why?!”

Frankie doesn’t answer and suddenly you are enraged. You run behind him and shove him forward. “I’m fucking talking to you! How can you just be so fucking blase about this??? And…all that other shit???—I feel like I don’t know you at all!”

He whirls around, that furious murderous face you ‘ve seen him give others is finally directed at you. “Because you don’t!” He screams back, his teeth nash and he shoves a finger one inch from  your face. You flinch.

“Frankie, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you? Really? I thought this was your thing?” 

You blink, confused, tears stalling on your face. “Don’t–”  You plead softly.

“No, Lex is right. You’re a naive little girl who thinks she can save worthless idiots like me and live some fucking fantasy happily ever after. You won’t. You can’t. I’m unfixable.”

“How can you say that!! Frankie, I love you!

He scoffs. “I know you think you do. And I know you aren’t stupid, you told me you’ve done this before. But guess what sweetie, you aren’t better, you’re still doing it because you’re so fucking desperate for someone to love you. You don’t love me. You just want to feel like some fucking savior.”

“No! No… I didn’t, I don’t…you told me you loved me!”

“I wanted to fuck you.” His eyes are black as far, it’s like you don’t even recognize his face anymore. Lex was right. Lex was right. How…did you make all of it up in your head?

“You…You’re a fucking psycho…I feel like you emotionally manipulated me into caring for you only for you to play games with me! I specifically told you I couldn’t go through this again and you fucking did it anyway!”

“Hey, you kissed me. And you were fun to fuck, I will admit that. Let me do fucking anything. But we both knew this would happen. You set yourself up. I did shoot those villagers. I caused Tom’s death. I just wanted the fucking money. And I wanted to kill a bunch of kids too, when they got in my way. Fuckin’ teenagers and I told Pope to fucking shoot them all.  And you know what else? We went back and got all that fucking money we hid, and we are fucking swimming in it. And I didn’t share a goddamn dime with my ex. You’re right. I am a psycho, so it’s a good thing this is over. Pack your shit and leave me alone.”

“Fuck you Frankie.”

You don’t wait another moment. You don’t need to be asked twice this time. You shove him aside on your way down the hallway, doing everything you can not to let the second round of tears fall. He’d seen enough.

You slam the door of the master bedroom behind you, frantically bouncing around different points in the room to grab all your shit. When did all of this stuff even get here? Anxiety bubbles up your chest until you can’t take it anymore and say fuck it, he can just throw anything else out. I have to get out of here.

You rush back down the hallway like a speed demon, praying to whatever that he won’t be standing in the hallway still. He isn’t. He’s sitting on his couch facing away from you, his head in his hands. You hate yourself for wanting to go comfort him. He’s right…I’m

not better…

You pause on the front doorway, struggling to say what needs to be said. Don’t be weak. Don’t keep letting people do this to you over and over. “Don’t contact me.I never want to see you again.” You say to his back.

He doesn’t move a muscle, or even look at you. “You won’t.”

You were able to make it halfway across the lawn before the grief fully hit. By the time you got to your car you were gasping like you were no longer able to breathe. And the minute your car door shut you broke, a wailing sob bursting from your lips as you bury your face in your palms. 

Again. It happened again. And it’s just as crushing as every other time, except now it feels like you never healed from the others and now they are all piling on top of the other with this one as the final blow.

Why. WHY? Was there something wrong with you? Why were you never enough? Why couldn’t you make them stay? What did you do to keep having to go through this? It almost killed you last time, your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the look on your parents face as they watched you writhe on your bed screaming and crying hysterically from your latest breakup.

And why did you let yourself fall into it again, like you had never learned a goddamn thing. It was like you were masochistic, you told yourself you would never need someone again so badly, you wouldn’t enmesh yourself so fully that when it fell apart you could barely function. Your heart was once again ripped out of your chest and thrown to the floor, the cracks from before making this shattering into pieces so small you know it can’t get repaired again.

With a trembling whimper, you pull your face out of your hands and wipe your eyes, your nose. You realize you’re still sitting in Frankie’s driveway and you immediately look to see if he's at the window, concerned for you. He isn’t. You hate yourself for it but it breaks you even more. 

It’s over.

You drive home mindlessly, your Spotify on shuffle and you aren’t aware of anything else. Just get home. Just get home and then you can cry, try to move on. But you already know you won’t. 

You finally tire yourself out of tears, and you try to talk yourself up, turning up the music and chanting “it’s okay” to yourself. 

It’s Coldplay. You always liked Coldplay. 

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try, you'll never know

Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you…

Tears stream down your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face, and I–

You slam the on/off button so hard you actually cause the auxiliary cord to malfunction, so you rip it out of your phone and throw the damn thing on the passenger seat. You drive home in silence.

It’s dark in the lot when you arrive. You park in a spot along the side and towards the back because the lot is mostly full. The only light shining is the pole yards away, the bulb switches off and on opposite of the dark one right above you. 

You feel numb. You can still feel sticky dried tears on your face, but your ability to utter a sound is gone. You close your eyes and try to compose yourself, simply sitting in your car in the dark. You’re avoiding going upstairs, you know. You’ve pretty much been living at Frankie’s. Walking through that door would make it feel too ‘official’. You cover your face with your hands and rub the tears tracks off your raw face, and are about to take a breath and gather your shit when a THWACKING sound bursts right in your left ear.

You startle with a yelp and look out your window, prepared to tell off whoever is messing with you, but freeze when you find yourself face to face with the barrel of a gun, the only thing separating you from it is the shitty window glass on your cheap car.

»»———————►

Post A/N: Don't yell at me lol

[lexivass]

what changed your mind about the Israel/Palestine conflict?

Hello, anon! I got this ask this morning, and it took me some time to respond to it because this is a delicate issue and I wanted to measure my words the best I could. As I was writing this I realized many of my beliefs were rooted in antisemitism, so I apologize in advance. If any Jewish person reads this, please feel free to correct me, and again, I’m sorry. Some of the things below really make me feel ashamed.

I wouldn't say I "changed" my mind about the conflict, but that I've begun to see things in a wider perspective, especially when it comes to the October 7 attack and the veiled (but not really) antisemitism that’s been growing lately (I don’t mean to say it didn’t happen before, but that people are getting more comfortable doing it now under the guise of being pro-Palestine. Many people aren’t even trying to sugarcoat it anymore, they’re straight up saying “the jews are to blame for everything and they control everything”).

It’s clear that the government of Israel has been conducting brutal attacks in many parts of Gaza and killing innocent civilians since October 7 - no one can convince me the 20.000+ people who died were Hamas terrorists and that every single building bombed was a Hamas hideout, and that a ceasefire is not the best solution.

But at the same time there has been a lot of misinformation (and insensibility)  going around, and the way people react to it shows that antisemitism is still very present, it is still very easy to look at jewish people with distrust or to ignore what they say because we think that after the Holocaust their troubles ended forever, and they shouldn’t complain about anything. Basically, that they are not a minority, therefore what they say shouldn’t be taken into consideration. But that is not the case.

The government of Israel has done terrible things in the past decades, no one is denying that.  But a government doesn't always represent its people. It’s a very old saying, one that we preach so loudly but when it comes to the people of Israel we tend to forget about it. Like many others, when October 7 happened I thought Hamas was a resistance group, and that the hostages were not being hurt or murdered. I believed it without even running a background check on them. And whenever I saw Jewish people saying that a new wave of antisemitism was growing I simply didn’t believe it. It’s not something I’m proud of but I genuinely believed that they were only saying this because they didn’t want people to criticize the government of Israel. 

It was only after I swallowed my own arrogance that I realized this was not an exaggeration. There are people who frankly think jews are subhuman, that Hitler was right, that the Hamas hostages deserved everything they went through. I saw a post with a link to an article about the victims who were violated by Hamas terrorists. I did not read it because I heard it was extremely brutal, but I saw the comments and the insensitivity in those comments was disturbing. I saw people saying it was pure propaganda, that nothing happened to them because they were just “lying jewish women”, that even if it happened it was “resistance against oppression”. I cannot say if it happened or not, but it’s not normal to look at someone who was kidnapped, kept away from their families for months and put through God knows what and claim publicly and out loud, with 100% conviction, that everything that comes out their mouths is a lie.

Why is it “believe the victims” until they’re jewish? Or “listen to minorities” until the minority in question are jewish people? Why is it that we wave an anti-nazi flag over our heads but still treat jewish people like shit? We, and by we I mean people who believe in social activism, don't do this to black, queer, indigenous people, so why do it to jews?

As I began to read more about nazi rhetoric and antisemitism I came across a reblog from one of my (now former) favorite poets, in which the OP was basically preaching for the “ruin” of Israel. They didn’t say “I hope Netanyahu leaves office”, “I hope the army soldiers who were filmed practicing brutality towards civilians are punished”. They said Israel as a whole, forgetting that there are people there. Civilians who are against violence, protesting in the sake of Palestine, people who do want Netanyahu out of the office, and people who have nowhere else to go. How do you expect to move millions of people to another country? What guarantee that this country even wants them? We see it every two months tragedies that occur involving mass immigration. “Oh, but the US can help them!” Do you think the US gives a shit about jewish people? Do you think the UK put Israel in the middle east because they wanted jews to have a home? Look me in the eye and tell me you believe that.

Palestians have the right to recover their seized territories and to live dignified lives. Israelis have a right to have a Jewish state. Both peoples deserve better, it’s not a competition about who suffers more. I’m not a diplomat, expert or judge of an international court of justice, but it’s clear that the minute people start to take sides one of the sides will be seen as the victim and the other as the villain. When people preach for the “ruin” of Israel they are no better than the people who say Palestinians deserve to die.