#SORRY GUYS YOU CAN IGNORE THIS I’M SORRY

[pangur-and-grim]

look I'm deleting this so soon, but you can see it for a sec

I met Jorg by accident while hunting for cool rocks in the creek.

My pockets already bulged with stones, the weight pulling my pants dangerously low on my ass, but with the sun high above, I felt plenty ready to continue my search. That is, until I splashed too close to the old bridge.

“I cry your mercy, my peerless paramour,” came a voice like stones and kittens in a shaken bag. It took a moment to parse it as language.

“What?” I said, unfolding from my crouched position in the water. 

“Seekest thou a trinket?” From the depth of shadows under the bridge, I saw two eyes shining like silver coins.

“Uh,” I said. “Just rocks, really. I’m hoping for a fossil, or maybe nice and sparkly to put on my shelf, you know? Or wait, here.” And shaking my hand dry, I shoved it into a loaded pocket, searching by touch for the best of my finds. “Here,” I said, pulling it out, “See how yellow this is? With white banding? I’m fully ignorant about its geology, you might know more than me, but it looks lovely. Like a lemon custard. Would you like to see?”

A terrible hand unfurled from the shadows. The wind shifted then, and its smell hit me, like freshly dug earth and the salty musk of an overworked horse. I continued to smile politely as I sloshed closer. Under the bridge’s shadow, the summer lost its warmth. 

I placed the rock onto its central paw pad. It struck me, then – I’d forgotten to clarify I’d like the rock back afterward, but now it seemed too late. Fingers closed about the stone. 

“Again, I don’t know much, so apologies if it’s ordinary. I’m actually in an engineering program, so could tell you more about this bridge than what’s under it.”

With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could now assess the creature. It hunched to fit under the confines of the stone bridge, all pale wormy skin and tufts of colourless fur, with ears that sharpened into points. As the creature brought the stone to its muzzle and huffed, I let my eyes roam the bridge’s underside, searching for something I could comment on. 

Unfortunately, I found it. “Oh, fuck.”

“Trouble, my sweeting?”

“Yeah, you see the cracks there? The bridge’s foundation is crumbling. That’s no good. I mean, not that it’ll collapse at this exact moment, but–“ 

The bridge shook then, as something heavy passed across it at speed. I sloshed out into the sunlight and squinted at the vehicle speeding away: Mr. Manor, who’d renovated the farmhouse across the creek into something modern and flavourless.

“Asshole!” I shouted after the car. Wading back under the bridge, I said, “Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away.”

It hunched, shivering in the shadows. “Beshrew that rolling waste,” it hissed, and I nodded in agreement. Once again, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I realized that it was a he.

“So, not big on clothes, then?” I leaned against a bridge wall, running my fingers along its cracks. “I get that.”

He grunted acknowledgment, before turning to dig through a heap of rags and trash. When the creature found what he sought, he yipped in delight. “Your trinket, dearworth!”

Between two taloned claws, he brandished a lump of shiny yellow. 

“Is that gold?” Despite my waving and stuttering, he kept his enormous hand held out to me, and so with some nervousness I took the lump. 

The creature radiated heat. Fresh sweat broke out across my chest from our proximity. “Honestly, I can’t possibly accept this.” Though, turning the lump this way and that, I did admire how it caught the faint light beneath the bridge. I could already picture how it might fulfil a similar role on my windowsill.

“By my troth,” the creature insisted, in his clicking hiss, “It is fitting.”

“I feel like I’m being courted.” I cradled the precious stone like it was an egg that might crack. At his unwavering stare, I blanched. “Am I? You know that I’m a guy, right?”

“A choice sweetmeat,” the creature said, and grinned. He unfolded his long, simian arm, and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across my eyes.

Oh, so the creature was a homosexual!

“Be that as it may,” I coughed, feeling my cheeks heat, “I do actually have to go. I promised to do the groceries today. But you know…” And I hesitated, unsure how to broach it. “This is an old bridge. It can’t handle all this modern usage.”

“Aye,” the creature said, in a sad grumble, before perking up. “Pray thee come again?”

“Of course!” I said, a little too eagerly, and then look away in embarrassment. “I mean, always more rocks to find, right? Thank you again, for the. . . thank you!” For a second time, I splashed my way out from under the bridge. Then I turned. “What’s your name, by the way?”

His eyes gleamed like twin moons in the dark. “Jorg,” he rattled. Or possibly ‘George’, it was hard to tell.

“See you later, Jorg!”  

Only when I’d waded to the shore and slipped into my waiting flip flops did I allow myself break into a full grin. I didn’t slip the gold into my pocket, instead dancing it between my fingers for the full walk along the roadside, and into the shopping plaza.

Only after I’d entered the No Frills did I realize that a crackling layer of creek sediment coated me from the waist-down,. I grabbed a plastic basket from the entrance stack and, suffering a few glances from the more cleanly folk, began hunting. Dish detergent, paper towels, a bag of honey crisp apples, all bran cereal…even with that repeated mantra, it was hard to focus. My body tingled with the remembrance of the creature’s wafting heat and salty odour. Self-checkout took far longer than it otherwise might, with the woman behind me sighing pointedly, but that hardly mattered.

I stepped into the parking lot with my arms and heart full. Truly, I wasn’t planning on a confrontation, until I saw Mr. Manor's parked car. “Ah, damn.” I said, and turned to head back in.

The doors slid open for me with a cool puff of air. It felt strange to walk in with bags of purchased produce, like the opposite of stealing, but nobody stopped me.

I found Mr. Manor in amongst the vegetables, fingering a ripe tomato. His face held a similar colour, his cheeks branched with broken veins. 

“Hey there,” I said. He acknowledged me with a polite nod and then tried to turn away, so I stepped in closer. “Hey, I’m a neighbour, sort of. I’ve been away for college, you won’t have seen me around.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Manor. He held his tomato in one hand, and a plastic bag in another. Clearly, he was wondering whether it would be rude to start loading his bag while I still demanded his attention.

“Anyway, so the old stone bridge? I’ve seen you driving over it with, what is that, an electric car? A Tesla?”

“Yeah.” He had shaggy brows, which crept closer together.

“So, the bridge is old, like real old, probably meant for horses and wagons, right?”  

He stared back at me, gripping his tomato.

“You’ve got some kind of mythological creature living under it, did you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, and carefully placed his tomato into the plastic bag. It was a signal to me, that his civility was waning. I cut to the chase.

“So, I reckon the bridge isn’t meant for the repeated weight of a car driving over it, right? I was under there – “

“You were under my bridge?”

“Well, sure, looking for stones, so anyways I saw cracks and stuff? Signs of degradation? And normally I wouldn’t bother you, except you know, you’ve got a mythological creature living under there.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Mr. Manor, and in rapid motions stuffed three more tomatoes into his bag. “You needn’t concern yourself with this any further.”

The billow of air conditioning, and the gentle misting that kept the bins of assorted greenery hydrated, all conspired to give me energy. 

“You know, the mythological creature, I think he’s a homosexual?” I said, as Mr. Manor tried to quick step away.

That stopped him. “That’s not something I care about. I mean, my niece is going through a lesbian phase right now, I’ve always been accepting.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, only that the bridge probably can’t take the weight of your car over and over.”

“I always vote left-wing.”

“Okay, so the bridge, though?”

Mr. Manor nodded, his face going even redder, and I knew in that moment that he wouldn’t do a thing. My fingers ached from standing with full grocery bags, so I gave up and left the store.

Outside, the parking lot shimmered in the heat. I squinted, pained by the sun. Even with sweat beading on my forehead, I still altered my route to pass Mr. Manor’s tesla, and lightly kicked one wheel. The motion swung my grocery bags, one of them hitting me in the thigh. “Ow!” 

The walk home had me regretting the confrontation. My arms and fingers hurt, no matter how I shuffled the bags, and sweat rolled into my eyes and stung them. Walking up my front steps brought some relief, though I grew unbearably annoyed fishing for my keys. Finally, with a click and a creak, the door opened. I dropped the bags in the front hall and stood there, luxuriating in the air conditioning.

 My sister sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey Mary,” I said, and she grunted in response. “You know, there’s some kinda creature living under the bridge?”

“What bridge?”

“Like a fifteen-minute walk away, -ish? Anyway, so his name is Jorg, I think. Or George. Probably Jorg. I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Oh?” Mary looked up from her phone. She’d overloaded her mascara today, so that flakes of it deposited on her upper cheek as she blinked. “Are you interested?”

“Mary, he’s a mythological creature.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m interested.” I considered telling her about the bridge, but she’d probably ask what I planned next. She might even start a social media campaign, and I hadn’t decided to care to that extent. Not yet, anyway.

The next morning, I woke up incredibly aroused. “By God,” I said, staring at my bedroom ceiling. “I need to get back to that bridge!”

My head felt wonderfully empty. I choked down bran cereal, fended off conversational attempts from my mother, and scraped the black mud from beneath my nails with a file. No concern existed, as to when I’d be back at my university program, or how I’d finance it, having thoroughly fucked up my scholarship. Only the careful selection of which shorts and shirt a bridge troll might prefer me in. I’d just settled on a tight-fitting grey number, emblazoned with a wriggling salmon, when the first ambulance drove by. The whine of its siren came first, like the breathless scream of an animal, and then my room flashed red and blue. Then, it was past,

It took 9 minutes of jogging to reach the bridge, and as I panted my way down the country roadside, another ambulance passed, and then a tow truck. I clutched at the gold in my pocket, feeling it take the warmth of my hand.

When I approached the scene, my fears became a solid thing in front of me. A pile of rumble blocked the creek, which, resisting this imposition, climbed its bank to trickle into new paths at either side. Mr. Manor’s Tesla had come close to making it across before the collapse, before falling. It reared like a horse, statically, its back end crushed by centuries-old stones. Mr. Manor himself lay in a wheeled stretcher, seemingly uninjured, though they’d strapped something stupid about his neck. Likely a precaution. His face, red as a tomato, contorted with an anger that he took out, in barks, on the paramedics. While I might have rolled him into the creek, the EMT’s stoically loaded him into an ambulance. 

“Hey,” I called, as they shut the doors, leaving one of their fellows inside with Mr. Manor, “There’s a guy who lives under that bridge!”

A thickset woman with a peeling sunburn looked at me with deep-blue eyes, while her co-worker, a short man, grimaced at her in anticipation of further work.

“Sorry, not a guy,” I corrected, “A mythological creature.”

All the tension left their shoulders. “That’s not our department,” the woman said, scratching at her sunburnt cheek.

“But, I mean,” I spluttered, “You won’t do anything at all?”

“Legally, we can’t. You have to take a special course, we don’t have the credentials.” She spoke with a patience that bordered on kindness, but it didn’t feel as though any of that kindness extended towards Jorg. I couldn’t think of anything further to say, so they left.

The ambulance took off with a silenced siren. Its lights flashed calmly, painting the collapsed stones blue and red in turn. Its sister ambulance, whose occupants hadn’t bothered to step out in my presence, peeled off and followed, leaving me alone with the tow truck.

“Can you move the rubble, at all?” I asked.

The tow-man stood with hands on his hips, surveying. I recognized him from around town, but we’d never spoken. He always kept his grey-streaked hair high in a ponytail.

“Not my job,” he said, “I just gotta get that car out.”

“There’s a mythological creature underneath all that.” I pointed at the rubble, but the man said nothing in response. “I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Hey, my brother’s a gay,” the man said, lighting a cigarette, “It’s still not my job. Don’t even have the right stuff on hand for this.” Then his voice lowered into a indistinguishable grumble, listing all the materials he needed, and the traffic that awaited, and the general progression of his morning. I didn’t listen, but I also tried not to cough on his cigarette smoke, as that might be rude. 

Seeing as nobody else would do a damn thing, I took off my flips flops. Then, I carefully climbed down the bank into the creek, letting the water swallow my feet up to the ankles. Glancing back at the road revealed it to be empty, with the tow truck finally having cleared off. 

“Damn,” I said, “This isn’t my department, either.” Even so, I pried at the piled rubble, lifting small, manageable pieces. These, I heaved into the creek with great frothing splashes. 

“Jorg?” I called at intervals. Each time I stopped, straining for any hint of a reply. I never heard any.

The sun got higher, and hotter, and I ran out of pieces I could lift. Sitting on the creek bank, I wiped my hands dry on a pant leg, then scrolled through my phone to find out whose department this was, exactly.

Broken websites. Links which lead to more links, which lead back to the original page in an ouroboros. Government sites in need of updating. No numbers to call, nobody to email.

In a last ditch, I called 911. “Hey there,” I said, when they asked for my emergency. “So, the old bridge collapsed, close to the No Frills? Off the highway?”

“Sir, we’ve already had people on the scene for this situation.”

“Well,” and I clutched grass between my fingers, tearing it free from the earth. “There’s a mythological creature buried underneath the rubble, is all.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.” 

“He’s a homosexual, I’m pretty sure.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“Okay, well there’s got to be someone who does deal with it. Who should I be calling here, what should I do?”

She gave me a web address that I’d already looked at, and then ended the call. “Fuck,” I said, without real passion. The Tesla couldn’t speak, but standing vertically with its ass pinched by rubble, I reckon it would agree with my assessment. 

With the exception of the car, and the bridge, the day seemed perfectly ordinary, all blue sky and pleasant warmth.

A few more handfuls of pulled grass, and then I got back to work, scrabbling over the collapsed bridge and prying at its ruined components. My carefully chosen shirt grew wet with sweat, and as my odour developed, I realized that I’d ran out without applying antiperspirant. “Sorry if I smell,” I said to nobody, as I threw another Victorian-era stone into the creek. Then the bridge shifted under me, and I fell to one knee, scraping my skin. 

“Damn,” I said, shaken. Carefully, I climbed down from the ruin, splashing through the creek to the shore. With the present instability, it could easily shift and crush a leg or a foot. 

“This isn’t my department,” I said to the wreckage. “This isn’t anyone’s department, it seems.” Beads of red trickled down my shin, diluted by the water that still dripped from me.

I rested back on the warm bank, and took out Jorg’s gift, rolling it between my fingers. With my free hand, I scrolled through websites, their links already purple. The gold lump cast reflected beams of light across my touchscreen.

I dialed a few town council numbers, without result. Nobody came, no more flashing lights. Once I thought I heard a scratching, but when I pressed my ear to the piled stone, the only sound was my own ragged breathing. 

Eventually, I went home. 

For a time, I kept the gold on my windowsill, where it sparkled in the corner of my eye, throwing its reflection across my work, demanding my attention and my guilt, until in an angry rush I swept it into my hand and locked it in a drawer. 

When I returned to the creek a year later, having financed my return to engineering though a loan, the piled debris was gone, and something modern and concrete bridged the water in its place. 

Standing at the summit of this new construction, I threw the lump of gold in a glistening arc. It disappeared into the water with barely a ripple, and that was that.

every now and then I go back and read my homoerotic bridge troll story, and it's always like wait, this is kinda good

[celestiamour]

since you asked for hyun-ju ideas, here am i 🙂

Imagine being her girlfriend and finally managing to hype her up to wear something more feminine for a date (like a dress or a skirt), only for that confidence to be shattered by some strangers on the street ;((

so, after a bit of comfort, you just need to prove how they were wrong, and show your sweet girlfriend how nice you think she looks on that outfit *wink wink*

ft. cho hyun ju x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ hyping her up to go out wearing a skirt for the first time┊0.7k words

contains: fluff with suggestive content at the end!! gender dysphoria & insecurity but mainly euphoria, established relationship, reader is shorter

➤ author's note: i went off prompt and didn’t do smut for this one because i really just wanted to focus on her gender euphoria moment, so sorry (also this is my first time writing for a trans character centered around gender identity! my knowledge mainly comes from having an ex girlfriend who was trans and told me about her experience, but if i got anything wrong or need improvement for something, please tell me so that i can improve and do hyun-ju justice!)

she stared at herself in the mirror, almost in disbelief at first at the reflection looking back at her. it’s insane how a little bit of makeup and stylized outfits could completely transform her appearance, the magic being something she’s heard about plenty of times but has only been able to witness at this moment. her fingers nimbly adjusted her hair, brushing it back before pushing the front stands forward to frame her face, and then flying to her pleated skirt to straighten it out. her heartbeat was all over the place, both from the happiness of finally feeling like herself and from the anxiety of planning to go out in public like this.

hyun-ju paused at the thought of that, looking back at herself and suddenly focusing on all of her insecurities again— the more masculine features that other people would point out and whisper about from her face to her frame. she looked at her bare legs and found the contrast with the dainty piece of cloth too stark to ignore, finding herself crossing her legs and wondering if she should just wear pants like she usually did.

self-consciousness started to consume her entire being and thoughts about it not being enough raced across her mind, taking in a deep breath and considering just taking it all off to stay in for the night. the last thing she wanted was to get harassed by some assholes on the street just for trying to be herself, especially when she knew you would yell back at them and a fight was very much possible as it happened in the past before ending with you in the hospital for a broken wrist (the other guy was in a much worse state, but she still didn’t like the idea of you getting injured or possibly even arrested for her behalf).

“babe, are you finished changing?” you called out and broke her out of her thinking, but you entered before she could say anything. she cringed slightly and closed her, feeling embarrassed until she heard you gasp in pure delight, “oh, you look so beautiful!”

the heat radiating off her cheeks from being sheepish quickly changed to that of being flustered, “r-really?”

“of course!” you took her hands into yours, spinning her around like she was a princess wearing the most luxurious ball gown ever crafted even though it was bought at a local mall, “i knew this outfit would look good on you, it really is your color!”

“right, i was just worried it looked weird…” she felt a little stupid expressing her concerns, but she knew you were understanding, “i just feel like… i don’t know, i feel like i’m too tall to wear something like this…”

“being too tall isn’t a problem! personally, i would kill to be your height and to have your legs, and i know plenty of other people would too. it’s a trait that lots of top models have, so you don’t have to worry about anything!”

your words made her crack a smile, feeling the initial confidence flood her and your arm wrap around her waist as her gaze returned to the mirror once again with both of you admiring her beauty. seeing herself in your light was always enlightening like she was a completely different person in the best way possible, and she was so grateful to have you as her girlfriend to pull her out of her negative thoughts. 

“well, we better get going. if we stand here always just staring at how pretty you are, i might not be able to control myself and we’ll be home all night,” you teased, standing on your tip-toes and kissing her carefully on the lips so as to not mess up the tinted gloss.

“i don’t think i would mind that…” 

“don’t tempt me now…” the fluffy atmosphere became charged with a familiar tension with your touch lingering on her skin, one of your hands traced up her thigh with sinful ideas forming on how you could mark up the unblemished skin and ruin the makeup you wanted to preserve a mere few seconds ago.

after a few seconds of heavy silence, you finally pulled her to join you on the bed, all teasing smiles and lust, “well, we can just order an uber instead of walking, we can spare ten minutes. that’s all the time we need, isn’t it?”

[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄

smut+angst ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

Everyday was repeatedly the same. It felt like it never got better. Getting worse each day. It felt like a time loop he couldn’t be freed from. Having no way out. He dreaded being there. He hated going through it, suffering all of the pain alone. He hated waking up being himself. Wishing he could change everything. He wasn’t perfect in any way, he couldn’t change the fact that he was stuck. Wishing to be someone different. Wishing he wasn’t Chris Sturniolo.

He had no control over his life. He didn’t even have control over his own mind. Threats rung in his ears barely able to ever escape them. He could never get help. Everyone hated him. It made him miserable. He hated the fact he couldn’t just be better. No matter how hard he tried. He was a loser with no life. He had no one.

Sitting in the back of the class, chris sat silent. Trying as hard as he could to not draw any attention to himself, nibbling softly on his bruised lip as he wrote sloppily over his paper. His body shook slightly at the cold air, making it harder to focus. Lost in his deep thoughts he was interrupted by the slight noise of a cough from above. Looking up through his eyelashes his eyes landed on his teacher.

Clearing his throat he spoke. “I-im sorry.. I’ll focus now. Was just thinking about some stuff, didn’t mean to distract myself.” He spoke quickly, over sharing as usual. As he rambled he looked down at his worksheet. Seeing as he only had about half of the notes he needed he sighed. “Mr.Sturniolo I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to daydream after school. In my class you listen! I simply don’t care what it is you have going on, you pay attention.. do you hear me?” He teacher scolded him in front of his whole class. Hearing little laughs and snickers from each corner. He had humiliated himself again.

With a small ‘yes’ chris returned back to his notes, trying as hard as he could to focus. As the long minutes passed slowly, you began to pack your things ready for the lunch bell to ring. Hearing the loud chiming sound ring across the school you stood and hurriedly walked to your locker. Approaching your locker you seen your friends. It had became a common thing of meeting here after each class over the years.

“Hi guys!” You greeted them with a smile. Turning to your locker you began putting the code in, with a slight tug opening it. Placing your books in there neatly you checked your mirror making sure you still looked your very best. The last thing you ever wanted to do was be seen as ‘ordinary’. You couldn’t stand the idea of being the same as someone else. Almost gagging at the thought you shut your locker with a huff. Slinging your purse around your shoulder you began to make conversation with your friends.

“Hey!” Your friend shouted. You turned in his direction watching as he shouted from across the hall. You looked around trying to see what he was doing. Until you spotted him. Chris Sturniolo. His target everyday. You couldn’t blame him though, he was easy to get at. It didn’t bother you enough to ever correct him, it wasn’t your situation or place.

Watching as chris looked up slightly, he began walking faster trying to avoid the scene. “Hey! Fucking bitch I’m talking to you!” Your friend angrily shouted. You watched as he pushed chris, knocking him against the lockers. With a thud, chris slammed against the lockers. Wincing from the pain he sat up slowly feeling the ache in his back. Watching as your friend laughed, you rolled your eyes as a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“You think you can ignore me? Fucking freak.” Your friend angrily said. You watched as he got kicked, kneeling over clutching his stomach in pain. You saw as he had small tears forming in his eyes. Almost feeling bad you huffed looking to the side. By now a small crowd had formed around you.

Chris whimpered and cried as he got kicked over and over. Wishing for the torture to be over, he lied there. He gave up, there was no point to fight back. He knew he couldn’t win, so why try? Feeling his hair get pulled, his body came up. He had been dragged down the hall towards you, by the small tangled locks in his hair. You could see the small cuts and bruises and he was slammed down again.

“You fucking stink! Ever hear of a goddamn shower. Ugh!” Your friend pouted at him. Watching chris you felt bad for the first time. It never occurred to you before how mean people really were until now. The beatings never lasted long. It was just a casual game of toss between the two. Or more so with one.

You watched as the crowd slowly walked away, phones in hand recording. Hearing all of their laughter your gut felt weak. You almost wanted to cry. You couldn’t leave him here.

Chris sat in his own blood and tears. He had snot running down his chin as he wiped it with the back of his sleeve. You debated on helping him. I mean you wouldn’t want anyone to leave you, so it was only the right thing.

Crouching down you tapped his shoulder. He looked at you with a swollen lip. His eye had bruised into a dark purple, patches of his hair lay beside him. You could swear this was attempted murder. You frown at him as you sucked in a breath.

“Hey.. I’m sorry about him.” You began. You didn’t really know what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t stay silent anymore. Each day ate you away, you didn’t want to not help him. But what would people think if they say you with a person like him?

Chris cried silently as he gathered his items placing them back into his bag. He stood silently and began to walk off, leaving you and your discomforting words behind.

The next day chris arrived to school, he’d taken all the back hallways in hopes of avoiding everyone. He sat peacefully in the 3rd stall of the bathroom. Eating his lunch silently as he played with the small Lego figures he had in his pockets. Laughing with himself, he felt a small smile form on his face.

He was enjoying the quietness when he had been interrupted with a loud bang. Jumping slightly he panicked putting away all of his things, flushing his food. He pulled his feet up to his chest in hopes of hiding himself. “Come out freak we know you’re in here.” He heard the voice laugh. Looking down Chris gulped, scared of what he’d deal with today.

His breath was held in hopes to be as silent as he could. Feeling the pressure get to himself, he let out a sigh. “Found ya” he heard. He looked above as he saw the familiar face . Without another second he was covered in garbage. They laughed as they dumped garbage over him, remembering how it was weeks old from the kitchen. Spoiled milk stained his clothes as chunks of old food fell off of him.

Hearing cheering and laughter erupt, the bathroom door opened and closed. He waiting a few moments before bursting in tears. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. Feeling the pain overwhelming him. He struggled to breathe as he choked on his own sobs. Feeling the hot tears run down his face.

He burried his face in his hands as he tried to dry his face. Walking to the sink he grabbed multiple rolls of paper towels in hopes of removing as much trash as he could. Finishing he flushed the last of the towels and grabbed his bag. Leaving the bathroom his shoes squeaked as he walked on the hard tiles. He slid slighty, nearly falling. He sighed again and began to move more gently. He walked wherever he feet took him.

Minutes later he found himself standing in front of the door of his own home. Looking down he stared at the pavement. Just watching. He wishes he could have a day of freedom, he really does. Bringing his hand up he slowly turned the key unlocking the door. Pushing the big door open he walked in, being met with the silence.

It had been hours since chris came home. All he could do was lay hopelessly in his bed. Recounting the moments from his life. He’s never been so sad to the point where it got like this. Was it worth it? Will it ever get better? He thought long and hard, thinking as deep as he could. What could he do differently, he wanted nothing more but to fit in. Feeling the tears prickle his eyes he sniffed and ran a hand across his face.

With a soft knock at his door he turned around slowly. Staring at the wooden door, he pushed himself up. Walking painfully slow he reached the door opening it slightly. Being met with none other than his brother.

Of course his brothers didn’t know about his situation, that’s how he liked it. They were older, and they went to college. They had a future, a chance. He wanted nothing but to be perfect like them. They never would have to live through the hell he put up with everyday.

With a small smile Chris looked around, avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure if he had been crying hard enough to leave marks, so he better play it safe. “Hey..” he muttered lightly. Matt nodded, signaling a small gesture back. Clearing his throat his began speaking, “hey uh.. you okay? You seem really tired lately.” He asked sincerely.

‘No, Matt. I’m not okay. I’m not even close to being okay. Everyday I go through hell and torture, and I can’t escape it. It’s a long continuous fucking loop and I’m stuck. I can’t get out and I wanna scream. Oh my god all I want to do, is scream. But I can’t, and I don’t know if it’ll ever stop. I just want someone to listen to me and be there. Someone who wont beat me and spit on me. Someone to tell me it’s okay, and hold me tight. I’m so tired and limp I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyday I wake up with this hatred for myself wishing things could be different like I-I can change everything. But I can’t, and I’ll never be able to. So no Matt.. I’m not okay.’

Is all Chris wanted wanted to say. But if he admitted that out loud, it’d make him even more pathetic. With a small exhale chris nodded. “Yea I’m good. Just school, schoolwork is kicking my ass right now.” He lied. He let out a breathy laugh and he bit down on his lip. Matt chuckled lightly, nodding his head in agreement.

“Dude I feel you..” Matt spoke, patting chris on the shoulder in a jokingly way. “But uh hey I came up to say someone’s waiting for you. A classmate I think?” He stated in a confused tone. He pointed behind him as chris followed his direction towards the door. Chris gulped and thanked him. He shut the door walking down the stairs.

Who could be here? Hesitation washed over chris as he reached the bottom step. As he inhaled a sharpe breath he closed his eyes. As his hand reached out for the door he slowly pulled it opened.

“Hi” he heard. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing the girl standing in front of him. She was dressed in loungewear, the type you’d wear around your family or to bed. She had her hair brushed back in bun. He watched as she rocked on her heels. He blinked at her as she stood in front of him. Why the hell was she here?

“You’re probably confused why I’m here..” she chuckled softly. As she ran her hands down her sides as she fixed her sweater slightly. She had a small smile plastered on her face, looking off to the side. With a small nod from chris she laughed nervously. “Well.. you weren’t in school today, teacher asked me to bring you your assignments.” She stated with a small voice.

“Thanks” chris said blankly. She handed him the assignments, tucked neatly under her arm. As he took them from her he glanced over her face, just looking. As he began to turn away shutting the door she put her hand out stopping him.

“Wait!” She shouted. With quick movements Chris opened the door slightly, seeing her flushed face. “I was thinking, maybe we could study together. I mean I’m already here and I’d love to help you catch up.” She offered. She had a warm smile, always in pure bliss.

“You don’t have to do that.” Chris turned down. He nibbled on his lip slightly growing nervous under her trance. She shook her head slightly and smiled again. “No it’s fine I promise! I don’t mind.” She admitted.

With a second guess chris decided to go with it. After all he really did need the help. And he didn’t necessarily see you to be the type to fight, so he felt safe in this moment. Stepping to the side he led you in. Following him up the stairs, you admired all the wall paintings. Running your fingers over each one letting your fingertips dance and glimpse over the cold railing.

Chris turned his head slowly as he looked at her over his shoulder. Feeling his mouth go dry he swallowed. “Uhm.. we can study in here.” He spoke softly. No matter how hard it was for him to stay calm, he did a damn good job of not showing it.

You followed after him into his bedroom. It was an average room, a fairly big bed with a dresser across the room. He had posters on his wall, with small display cases lined against his wall. Besides the small piles of clothes on the floor his room was rather clean. It felt comfortable.

As you sat on his bed beside him you looked at him, admiring the beauty. You found beauty in everyone, everyone was so different it was unique.

As you both studied together, it became obvious that he was tired. Feeling bad you began to pack your bag silently. As you gathered all of your items you straightened out your clothes and stood.

“You’re leaving?” Chris asked softly. You stood in front of him for a moment, debating whether you really did want to leave. “Uhm, well you just looked a little tired.” You said softly. He looked to the side as he scratched the back of his neck softly. He began to tug at the small strands of hair. Growing nervous he bit down on his lip, a habit he’d grown.

“M’not tired.” He said plainly. He looked in your eyes almost pleading you to stay. It had been years since someone visited chris. He missed the comfort of company, the rush of joy he felt was unbelievable. Smiling softly you sat back beside him.

“Did you want to continue studying? Or we can just talk, doesn’t matter.” You said. You were so soft spoken, it was a mystery to Chris why you chose to surround yourself with people he found so evil.

“Uhm we can.. talk? I guess.” He asked hesitantly. You nodded at him. You looked down trying to think of something to converse about. “So uhm, how have you been?” He asked. You looked up, a small smile playing on your face. “I’ve been really good. Schools kinda stressful right now with all the work we’re getting.” You admitted. He nodded in agreement. “Yea.. school is hard.” He said lowly. You gulped as you recalled all the moments where he was bullied. Feeling bad, you bit your tongue.

“Hey.. I’m really sorry about them.” You said. Your voice cracked slightly as you fought back tears. You just felt so bad, you had been so silent. You could’ve helped him. Instead you watched it happen, everyday. And it killed you. He looked away, taken aback by the sudden shift. He huffed out, shutting his eyes briefly. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“I’d love to be your friend.” You replied nicely. You smiled at him, your cheeks forming into a rosy color. He watched as you fiddled with your thumbs. “You would?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded at him eagerly, a small giggle coming out. He smiled softly at you.

He felt more relaxed as the hours ticked by. His room could be heard of small giggles and loud words. You grew comfortable with chris the more you stayed. Not wanting to go home, you both planned a small sleepover. You’d both skip school tomorrow and spend the day together. You’d wanted to know chris. The real him.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say chris wasn’t an attractive guy, because he really was. He had perfect teeth, a smile that could light up a room. He had beautiful blue eyes, they were so inviting. His perfectly natural hair. You weren’t sure what everyone else saw, but all you could see was the beauty in him.

“You’re cute, you know that?” You giggled. You tossed your head back laying down on the soft mattress. Turning your head you watched as he laughed softly, picking at his bottom lip with his teeth. His face grew red as he looked down. He shook his head slightly at you. “No im not, are you high?” You bursted into laughter at his comment. Bringing your hands to your face wiping the small tears as you laughed harder. “No no! I’m serious.” You stared at him.

“Come, lay down.” You patted the spot next to you. Watching as he moved upwards slightly, he lied down next to you. You both lay there, looking in each others eyes. You softly reached out tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. Smiling softly you ran your fingers over his cheek.

“I mean it Chris. You really are beautiful.” You spoke softly. Chris nervously smiled, taking in your words. Leaning his face into your palm he smiled. “Thank you. You’re really pretty.” You smiled, flashing your teeth at him.

You pulled your face closer to his, hovering your lips just above his. Inhaling his scent, it was almost intoxicating. Pulling him close, he felt his lips come in contact with yours. He melted at the soft touch. Pulling away slightly you ran your tongue over your lips.

Kissing him once more you cradled his face, now rolling to your side. You both shared a kiss that you’d both remember forever. The world stopped for a second, it was just you. Nothing else mattered.

You softly ran your tongue over his lips, feeling the peeling skin as he’d bitten at them so much. You felt his mouth open slightly you found your tongues tangled together. Moaning softly in his mouth, you slowly began to grind your hips into his.

As your lips fought together, you became more addicted to his taste. Pulling away slighty you trailed your fingers over his skin. Running your hand down his chest, you slightly pulled his shirt up. Running your fingertips across his bare skin, he sucked in a breath.

As you kissed along his neck he let out small whimpers, by now his cock had slightly hardened. It became harder to contain his noises as he sucked a breath in. Slowly you pulled your face back to his kissing his lips once again.

Slowly you began to climb on top of him, straddling his body. You felt as he ran his hands over your body feeling everything he could. You kissed him deeply inhaling his scent. You moaned in his mouth feeling your body push down. You slowly began to rock your hips, dry humping him.

You felt as his now fully erected cock pushed into your body, hitting your wet core. “Mmhm” you moaned slightly feeling the pleasure hit you. You peppered kisses along his jaw, trailing them down . You kissed each inch of his skin. Showing chris the love he deserved, you smiled at him.

“You’re so perfect.” You spoke in a low voice. Chris watched as you climb farther down, leaving a trail of wet kisses. As you reached his pants you looked up.

“Can I take these off?” You asked lowly. You bit your lip in anticipation, wanting nothing more but to give him pleasure. With a slight nod he gave you permission. “Yes”

As you slid his pants down, he kicked them off as they landed on the floor. Your hands slowly came up as you reached him. Slowly you gently pressed your palm against his cock, pushing down slightly as you ran your hand in an upwards motion.

Chris moaned at the contact as he slowly threw his head back. As you looked up to watch his reaction, you saw as his jaw hung slack as small moans escaped. Smiling at him, you slowly placed small kisses to his clothed cock.

Bringing your hands up your tucked you fingers in the waistband of his boxers. As chris watched you, he slowly saw as you tugged his boxers off slowly. Teasing him you stopped. You smiled at him, as you placed one kiss directly above his cock. You watched as he twitched feeling his body heat up.

Slowly you tugged his boxers down throwing them to the floor. Chris now grew nervous as he looked away. As you look down you stared in awe at his body. He was truly so breathtaking. “So beautiful..” you whispered.

Slowly bringing your hands up, you gently grabbed his cock wrapping your small hands around him. He was an average size, and he was neatly shaved. For a guy who looks like he wouldn’t have the best hygiene he was kept clean and smelled nice.

As your hands lingered on him he whimpered. He watched as you admired him, feeling loved. As precum dropped from his tip you slowly wiped it with your finger, using it as lube. Slowly beginning to jerk him, he lost himself in the feeling. Slowly his breaths grew heavier. Watching as you jerked him slowly he moaned loudly, the feeling too good.

As you tugged at him more it became harder to compose himself. Feeling his body twitch under your touch, his stomach caved in. As he felt hit stomach tighten his body grew stiff. Watching as ropes of white cum flew from him. He moaned, sighing slightly. He had small drops of sweat that made his hair stick to his forehead. As he huffed, his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Slowly you licked the remains of his fluids, tasting the sweet and salty mixture. You hummed at the taste as you licked every drop clean. Pulling yourself upwards you peeling your clothes from your body. Discarding them to the floor you returned to your original position.

As you laid beside chris, he pulled your body closer closing the small gap between you. Feeling his cock slowly push into you, you moaned. Letting out small babbles of incoherent words, you held onto his shoulder steadying yourself.

As your body laid beside him you slowly began to move your body, feeling his cock push into you further. As you let out small moans, he cradled your body. Pulling you closer he slowly rocked his hip, pushing himself in and out of you. Feeling your walls squeeze him.

He moaned softly against your neck, feeling his body sink further into yours. “Oh chris..” your words sending pleasure straight to his cock. You praised him though his movements, pushing him over the edge.

Feeling your walls clench around him you sucked in a breath. Feeling your gut turn your eyes rolled back. Lost in the feeling you felt yourself choke on the air, crying from the pleasure. 

With a couple more final thrust, you felt your stomach tighten and release. Watching as you painted his cock white he followed soon after. Pulling out of you, he came on your stomach. Moaning together you both looked at your mess, feeling happier than ever.

As you lay beside each other, you share another kiss. Pulling away you face grew hot. “I can’t believe we just did that..” chris spoke lowly. He was in pure shock. He never thought he’d lose his virginity to you. “I’m happy we did.” Your voice beamed. You smile at him, pulling his body as close as you could.

Grabbing a cloth Chris wiped your messes, leaving your body clean. As he sunk back into his bed he sighed letting out a breathy laugh. “Thank you.” He mumbled. You gently pressed your head to his chest as your eyes shut softly.

As you laid in bed your bodies tucked under the blankets, you cuddled your body into his. Savoring the warmth and love. You both felt the comfort that you had always wanted.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @kayeeaa @ribread03 @meatballlover10 @mattslolita @sophand4n4 @riasturns @nickysturnss

[quxyivs]

heyy i was wondering if i can request a angst fic for chan so its like you go to visit him and there is another female idol or something in the studio then its like he almost forgets the reader yk? then she tries to join in into the convo he ends up acting like he doesnt want her in it the rest is up to you bae 🩷💋

OMG?? THIS IS ACTUALLY SUCH A GOOD IDEA!??? Also tysm for the req!! 🫶🏾

Forgotten

Trigger warning ⚠️!! - Accusations of cheating, Cursing, throwing shit, blood!! (lmk if i forgot anything)

Bang Chan x Fem Reader

P.s- the fem idol will be called Jio 🫶🏾 (i didn’t do a spell check so if there is bad grammar i’m sorry😭)

-story below the cut<3

You woke up slowly from you and chans shared bedroom in your shared apartment expecting to see your loving boyfriend but instead it’s just an empty bed. You sit up and rub your eyes and get ready for the day before stumbling across a note on the kitchen counter beside some Pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries on top with some fresh fruit on the side too.

“Morning baby!! I had to leave early to start practicing for our new comeback. I made some breakfast for you just before I left!! See you when I get home!! -Love channie” As you read the note you felt your heart warm and flutter as you dig into the food that he cooked. After you get finished you clean the house and just relax for a bit before deciding to visit your boyfriend to check up on him, i mean cmon. we all know chan has a habit of overworking himself and forgetting to eat. You began cook chans favorite meal before getting in the car to go see chan. You call him to tell him but he doesn’t answer the phone and you think “it’s cause he’s busy!!”

You arrive at the JYPE building and walk in greeting the front office lady and then making your way to chan. You enter the practice room and wave at the other members. “Hey guys!!” you say as you hold the bag of food in you hand. “Hey y/nnie!!” Felix says as he jogs over to you giving you his normal big smile and hugging you. “Have you seen chan lixie?” You ask pulling back a bit from the hug. “Ah he’s in the studio, you know him..” Felix said shaking his head in disappointment jokingly. “Of course. See you guys!!” You and Felix finally let go and you walk into his studio to see another female in the studio. He looked close to her, giggling with her and smiling at her with a bubbly look on his face.

“Hey channie!! I bought you lunch!” You said but he just..ignores you? You assumed he didn’t hear you so you clear your throat to speak up but he cuts you off. “Just sit it down.” He said almost sounding pissed off..? You sat the food down then stood there listening to them talk about some guy at a cafe..? Did her and chan go out? Was he cheating?? “Hey what are you guys talking about?” You said but again, you were ignored. “Is it like..some secret I can’t know about..-?” But again to no avail you were ignored. After a couple of more attempts you just get up and storm out slamming the door on your way out. As you walk through the practice room everyone is looking at you and Changbin stops you from leaving.

“Woah what’s wrong? what happened?” He said genuinely worried about you seeing how your fist were balled up. “Nothing. Tell chan when he comes home his shit will be outside and he can go be with his new girlfriend!” You snap as you push changbin aside and storm off leaving everyone confused as they look at each other. After a few hours the girl leaves and chan comes out the studio room waving the girl bye and walking her out.

When he turned back around everyone looked at him disappointed. “What? Why are you all looking a-“ “you’re a fucking dick dude.” Lee know was quick to cut him off leaving chan caught off guard. “Excuse me-?” He said genuinely confused. “You dumped y/n to get jio? really? that’s fucked up hyung.” Changbin said crossing his arms in disbelief. “What!? i’m not dumping y/n!? What are you talking about!?” Chan said frantically and confused a sudden bad feeling rising in his stomach. “She left the studio talking about how your shit is gonna be outside and for you to go live with your new girlfriend..” Jeongin said and Chans heart immediately dropped as he grabbed all his stuff and ran out the building getting in his car and driving home as quickly as possible.

He got to the front door and used his key to get inside. Once his key finally worked he ran inside and when he came in he saw broken glass on the floor and blood splatters. His heart dropped to basically the pits of hell. “Y/N!? Y/N WHERE ARE YOU!??” He ran up the stairs to find you in the bathroom wrapping your hand. “Baby-!! What hap-“ “Get the fuck out cheater.” His eyes widened. “What do you mean I didn’t-“ You grabbed the wraps to throw at him which he caught. “Yes you did-!! I saw you talking to her, talking about some guy from a cafe, and then you ignored me like I wasnt even in the room!! multiple times!! fuck you!!” You spat with anger as your eyes weld up with tears.

Chan finally realized how bad all of that must’ve looked in your eyes. “Babe please. Let me explain-“ “Then explain asshole!! i’m waiting!” He took a deep breath coming in closer to you. “Yes we did go to a cafe, but not as a date. I was there to help her with her date. So if things went bad I could just take her home. I’m sorry I ignored you I just got so caught up in the conversation-.. i’m so sorry baby please don’t kick me out- please I love you and only you okay..?” His left hand raised to your cheek wiping the tears off your cheeks. “I would never cheat baby.. I love you..” He said softly his own eyes filling with small tears. You look up at him before hugging him softly. “Never ever ignore me like that again..” You say as you cry softly into his chest. “I promise love..”

I loved writing this!! Thank you Anon for the req!! 🫶🏾🫶🏾

[motorsportbarbie13]

Track Limits - Part One

(author's note: this is a fully original series that I wrote this summer, with fully original characters. I will be posting every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I won't be using my tag list for my F1 Fanfics, so if you want to be added to this one, please leave a comment! As always, my inbox is always open for suggestions, comments, questions, etc. I love love love hearing from you guys!!)

Warnings: brief talk about cheating boyfriend and panic attacks, but nothing serious on page Word Count: 3.1k

Intro Post Series Main Navigation Page Master List

Celine

CelineStG posted

CelineStG Siri, play 'Home' by Good Neighbors RealMollyGrace bitch, what? >>>CelineStG oops? AlexStGerard I’m sorry, since when are you home?  >>>CelineStG Hi big brother, consider this my official notification that a sister visit in imminent. Hope you’re prepared! >>>AlexStGerard When am I ever prepared for a sister visit? >>>CelineStG Never.  >>>AlexStGerard Exactly  SebSimonet STG C if I don’t see you before quali I’m running you over with my car >>>CelineStG What an awful thing to say to your bestie.   User123 Are you in town for the race?  User34 Of course she is, her family literally owns a team. Idiot. 

“Ms. Saint Gerard, what a pleasant surprise to see you today! Your father didn’t say anything about you visiting this week. Would you like me to take you to the estate then?” George Fishburn asks as he holds the car door open for me. 

“No, no.” Waving him off, I slide into the back seat of the SUV.  “I’m staying at the Hermitage this week.” I ignore the man’s raised eyebrows, choosing to pretend like he isn't giving me the opportunity to give him a little bit of gossip like I always tend to do. I’m certain he’s dying to ask why I won’t be staying with my father and on a normal day, I would have been happy to answer his questions. George has been my father’s driver and all around errand man for as long as I can remember and normally I would have gladly chatted with him about why I was suddenly home.

Today though? Today I was glad he was giving me the quiet distance that my melancholy mood craved. 

“Could you take me to Alex’s condo and then drop my bags off at the hotel though? If it’s not too much trouble.” I ask once George has loaded my bags in the trunk and settled himself in the drivers seat. 

He chuckles and rolled his eyes, “Of course it’s not too much trouble, you know that. I’ll leave you with your brother and take them up to your room myself.”

“Thank you.” I sigh as he starts the engine, sinking into the supple leather seats that are a sharp contrast to the turmoil rolling through me. 

Moments later, he’s smoothly navigating the car out of the parking lot and is making his way towards the highway that leads from Nice to Monaco. My clenched jaw softens as I watch the French country side slip by, a wash of relief unknotting the constant stomachache I’ve been living with for weeks. Kilometer by kilometer, the tension that I’ve become quite acquainted with seems to melt away. I had woken up that morning in my townhome in London but this afternoon, I found myself home again.

Technically, Monaco isn’t really home, in the strictest sense of the word. I had lived in New York City until I was 14 but the tiny principality had always felt more like home than any apartment in the city or home in the country I had ever shared with my mother. My father had always brought my brother, Alex and I here during our summer visits after my parents had divorced when I was three. Sometimes I still wake up in the middle of a London rainstorm swearing I can smell the salty air of the Mediterranean and perfume of the wealthy residents. 

So it really wasn’t quite a surprise that the only place I thought might be able to fix me after what I’d been through in the last six months was Monaco. 

Slipping my phone out of the pocked of my bag, I check the notifications on my Instagram post earlier. It had been such a last minute trip to come home this week that I hadn’t even told my best friend, which she was apparently not very pleased about. 

Moments after the I send the last text, my phone vibrates, interrupting the quiet tranquility that I had been soaking in. 

“Are you okay?” Guilt sits at the edges of Molly’s tone when the call connects. 

Glancing out the window, I tip my head back against the soft leather head rest as I ruminate over my answer. 

“I’m...alive?” A dark chuckle escapes before I can stop it while I stare out the window as we begin to pass through the outskirts of Monte Carlo. I briefly catch a glimpse of the glittering sea that sits at the edge of the city. Even just the briefest of looks at the water chases a bit more of the anxiety that sits heavy in my chest away.

 On the other end of the phone, I hear Molly shuffling about and the muffled voice of someone that sounded a lot like Bev, Molly’s PR manager. Checking my watch I suck in a breath, “Molly! You have a show in like 45 minutes, shouldn’t you be warming up?” 

While Molly might be my best friend, she is also multi-Grammy award winning singer Molly Sharpe. We met five years ago when she had nearly thrown a punch at a drunk guy that was getting a bit too handsy with me at a party during the Cannes Film Festival. We had never said a single word to each other before she came to my rescue, somehow picking up on my panic from just a glance, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. Even when we were on opposite sides of the globe, which happened more often than not now that she was on tour, we try to FaceTime at least once a day. 

“Nah, this is more important. I’m already warmed up anyway, so stop trying to deflect. What happened that made you literally flee the country?” 

I barely fight the urge to groan. “I ran into William at a coffee shop thi-.” I stop mid-thought to correct myself. “No, no! I saw my cheating ex-boyfriend at MY coffee shop this morning, Molly! In MY neighborhood. On MY side of London!” I cry, my molars grinding together. “With whatever the fuck her names is, that stupid red head that he cheated on me with.” 

Heat rises in my cheeks as I remember the scene from this morning. I had just left my pilates class and had been planning on making a quick run to the barn to exercise my horses even though that was the last place I wanted to be. But all of my plans came to a screeching halt when I saw William arm in arm with the girl he had cheated on me with walk straight into my favorite coffee shop. 

“Coming from anyone else, I’d say you claiming it was ‘your’ side of London was simple hyperbole but I genuinely don’t doubt you and your family actually own a significant portion of the city.” Molly teases. 

A smile tugs reluctantly at my lips, “Shut up.” I scoff. She was right, of course. My family had been the founding investor into the Formula One team that all these years later, still bares our last name. We had a luxury road car division that was the first bit of our business, the racing coming second after my great-grandfather fell in love with the sport. Simply put, St. Gerard was as synonymous with luxury car production as Chanel was with haute couture.

“So anyway, I saw him with her and I couldn’t breathe. I completely panicked. Between that and,” I pause, my breath catching in my lungs. “What happened last month, I just lost it. So, I did the most mature thing I could think of at the time.” 

“And what was that?” Her tone held an edge of a laugh, like she knew this was going to be ridiculous. 

“I called an Uber right there on the street corner, packed a bag, and chartered a flight home.” 

“Céline Cristelle St. Gérard! That is the most out of touch way to deal with your problems.” 

I let out a chuckle. “Thats rich coming from a girl who quite literally chartered a jet to fly her favorite chef from New Orleans to Portugal just to make her chicken noodle soup when she was sick last year.” 

“That was a medical emergency.” She pouts. 

“So you’re telling me that you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing?” 

Molly cackles and I could just imagine her throwing her head back laughing in the green room at whatever stadium she was performing in tonight, “Oh no, I would. We’re both equally insane and privileged. It’s a dangerous combination. Go on.” 

“That’s it. I flew home. I don’t even have any luggage packed. We were 20 minutes off the ground when I remembered that the race was in Monaco this weekend and panicked that I wasn’t going to be able to find a place to stay but I somehow managed to find a room at the Hermitage.”

“You’re not staying with your father?” 

“Ha! Absolutely not. He’ll be furious with me when he hears about what I did yesterday.” 

In addition to a cheating ex-boyfriend that had just broken my heart recently, I'd also decided a few days ago that I was done with show jumping for the season. There had only been a few competitions but after what had happened six weeks ago to my heart horse, I just didn't have the competitive drive in me anymore. For as long as I could remember, show jumping had been my 'thing'. Alex had racing and the team but I had always had my horses.

Until I didn't.

On the other end of the phone, my best friend gasps. “You haven’t told him yet?” She shrieks. 

“I was kind of hoping the press would do it for me, to be honest.” I wince, nibbling at a cuticle my manicurist missed at my nail appointment yesterday. 

“Céline!” Molly hisses.

Rubbing my free hand over my face, I groan into the phone. “I know! I know! I’m a coward. I’m actually on my way to see Alex to try to figure out how the hell to break it to the old man. He’s going to be so mad.” 

Molly’s tone softens at the guilt that I know fills my voice. “He won’t be if you’re honest with him.” 

I stay silent for a moment, considering Molly’s words. I know my father is going to lose his mind when he finds out that I had made this huge, life altering decision without even so much as consulting him. Not because he’d tell me that I wasn’t allowed to but because show jumping is such a big part of my life and making such a big decision like pulling out of competition for the year without even so much as consulting him was going to set him off. My father was solidly of the 'the St. Gerard family is not a family of quitters' belief and this was going to break his heart.

“Listen. We just pulled up to Alex’s place so I’m going to let you go. Say a little prayer that I survive the first firing squad?” 

“Alex will be on your side, he always is. Text me later and I’ll call you after the show if it’s not too late.” 

“Love you.” 

“Love you too Cece.”

Theo

TheoJHighgate Posted

TheoJHighgate Rolling into Monaco race week like... user918 the curls are curling evansracing so excited!! user0199 does this man know what he does to us??? >>>user029 oh 100%

The Evans Racing garage thrums with the kind of energy that only happens during race week. Mechanics scurry around my car making any last minute adjustments before the first of three rounds of practice tomorrow, the sounds their tools make a familiar grind in my ear. I lean against one of the many sleek orange and black toolboxes that line one side of the garage, taking it all in. 

Monaco is my favorite track on the entire circuit. I have so many good memories here that every time this weekend rolls around, I try to soak in as much of the energy I can. The team has been really consistent so far this season but we’re still winless and this weekend feels like the perfect time to remedy that situation. 

“Theo.” A sharp voice yanks me out of my podium day dreams. “My office. Now.” Scott Hayes, Evans Racing’s team principal stands just outside his office door, his expression all storm clouds threatening a downpour. Fuck, he does not look happy. 

I straighten, ignoring the stares from the mechanics who are trying to look busy while hoping to overhear the verbal undressing I feel like I’m about to get. I shuffle through my memory quickly as I push off the tool box. While I have somewhat (read: huge) of a reputation in the paddock of being the driver that gives the PR team the most headaches before race weekends, I don’t think I’ve done anything recently to bring the wrath of Scott Hayes down on me lately. 

“Sounds like I’m about to be on the receiving end of one of your inspiring pep talks boss.” I flash him my most disarming smile, trying to hide the pit that has suddenly formed in my stomach. 

Scott simply rolls his eyes and steps back into his office without another word, leaving me no choice but to follow. 

Fantastic. 

“Good luck in there.” My performance coach Levi McAllen claps me on the back when I walk past him. “Find me after and we’ll go through what he says, okay?” 

What he means is ‘I’ll talk you down off the ledge Scott is about to put you on’. While Scott Hayes is a legend in Formula One, he’s also one of the scariest mother fuckers I’ve ever worked for. I hate being on his bad side, which seems to happen on a regular basis more and more lately. Thankfully, my driving makes up for it. Most of the time. 

“Yeah, yeah.” I sigh dramatically, running a hand through my mess of dark brown curls that are in desperate need of a haircut. I make a mental note to get to my barber before tonight’s charity gala, knowing our PR manager Loraine will have my head if I don’t. If I can show up with a clean cut mullet, she usually doesn't give me shit. The way that woman had almost buzzed off my entire head of hair when I showed up one day a few months ago with said mullet was almost scary. There might have been tears.

Weaving my way through the labyrinth of the garage easily, I manage to pretend I'm ignoring the engineers who keep tossing what look like sympathetic glances my way. 

This is not going to be good. 

I shut the door behind me, the snick of the latch the only sound in the quiet office.  

Scott waves a hand towards one of the two white plastic chairs in front of his desk. 

“Theo.” He begins, his voice softening a fraction. “We’ve invested a lot in you. You’re our number one driver, the face of Evans Racing in F1.” 

I nod, a flicker of pride settling the anxiety still churning in my stomach a bit. Being a Formula 1 driver has been my dream since the first time my dad plopped me down behind the wheel of a go kart. It’s exactly where I want to be. Fast cars, pretty girls, the roar of the crowd dressed in your team colors - it’s a life I’ve dreamt of since I was a scrappy little kid fighting for the podium on dusty, back woods karting tracks. 

“Frankly, Theo,” Scott continues, his voice turning rough again, “The results haven’t been there. A few podiums, yeah, but no wins. We’ve poured resources into this car and it’s showing. We need you to step it up, to translate that speed into wins.” 

I lean back in my chair, shoulders dropping. He’s not wrong. We certainly had the fastest car on the grid most weekends but I hadn’t capitalized on it yet. The media was starting to chatter about how I might not have the skill or mentality to handle a fast car and championship fight. Here I was, my sixth season in F1 and only one win to my name. And that singular win had taken me four and a half seasons to get. Sure, I was consistent enough, I hold the record for the most podiums before winning a race in all of F1 history. Second and third place finishes will only get you so far in this sport though, especially when your team has made huge leaps in technology in the last half dozen years. 

The responsibility of translating that speed and those improvements into wins sat squarely on my shoulders. 

“I know, Scott.” I say. “Believe me, I want to win just as much as you guys do. Probably even more.” 

It was true. My entire career I’ve been the ‘solid, consistent, well performing driver’. Good enough to gain the attention of Evans back when I was just 16 years old driving in F3 but never quite good enough to be considered one of the greats. And the reputation of being ‘almost good enough’ starts to grate on your ego after a while. 

Scott studies me a moment, a hint of doubt lingering in his eyes. “Theo,” He says finally, “you have the talent we want here at Evans. We wouldn’t have signed you otherwise. You’re a natural behind the wheel, your race craft impeccable. But sometimes…” He trails off, the silence of his unfinished words hanging heavy in the air. 

I know exactly what he’s trying to say. The late nights, the tabloid headlines, the reputation for being a player that follows me like a shadow. It’s a tightrope I usually walk a little better than I have been lately. Balancing the bad boy image with the laser focus I need on the track was something I’m usually good at. Or at least I thought I was. 

Maybe I’m not as good at the balancing act as I thought I once was. 

“I’ll do better.” I promise, meeting his heated gaze head-on. “This race, this whole season? It’s mine. No more distractions, just wins.” 

A flicker of something that might have qualified as a smile crosses his lips. “We’ll see.” He says, a hint of steel still in his voice. “We’ll see. Your contract is coming to an end this year and we want you to be in this seat next year. You are the heart and soul of this team but we need you to start winning.” 

We both knew my word is only as good as my last race. The pressure was on. I had to get serious about my driving. I know I have it in me to be a better driver, that I haven’t hit the peak of my career yet. I was just running out of time to finally find the missing piece to the puzzle that was my career. I had to find it and I had to find it fast. 

Tag List (reminder, this is 100% different from my normal tag list!)

@ahgase99

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

[fashionteahouse]

Angel, could you write a Paul x reader story where she invites the pack to join her at a costume party (she’s dressed in a sexy jaguar costume)? They agree to go, but until this point, Paul has been denying the imprint bond. However, at the party, he gets jealous seeing her dancing with another guy and almost kissing him. I’d love a conclusion with smut, either in the bathroom at the party or back at her house, as long as there’s a conflict before the climax. Only write it if you feel comfortable doing so—I adore your writing! 💋

of course and i appreciate you so much 🥺💜

or what - paul x reader

Arms were tightly crossed, the glare could burn a hole through the floor.

Disappointment, anger, and frustration seeped out of the man that stood sat in front of you.

He knew you well, you knew him well. But not well enough to spark any conversation. However, one look seemed to change things.

Everything was starting to make sense. You seen him around the neighborhood, but often wondered how he had gotten so big and muscular and only stuck around the same group of people.

You’ve known him to flock to many others rather than sticking to a core group.

It all made sense now.

“So…This is…Forever?” you speak out. The very tall man who you found out to be Sam, nods at your answer.

“Oh.” you say and sit back in your chair.

“The secret cannot be told to anyone else. You’re an imprint and this is the pack.” he says.

You make a quick zipper motion with your fingers on your mouth. It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.

“Are we done? Can I go home now?”

He was annoyed. You were a bit annoyed as well. He was so rude.

“Paul.” Sam warns him before taking the conversation back to you, “What do you think?”

“Nothing. I won’t say anything.” you say and Paul rises up with a scrape of his chair and makes his way out of the door, with it slapping to a close behind his absence.

“Sorry about him.” Sam apologized.

“It’s all good.” you say and rise up, making your way to your own home.

One person didn’t spoil the bunch, the pack welcomed you with open arms.

You were grateful.

You met the other imprints. They allowed you to be yourself. They all were a breath of fresh air and you suddenly felt sad.

People spread rumors and they didn’t know what great company they were. They didn’t know that they risked their lives to protect the very people who ridiculed them.

“Come with me, please!” you say with a smile.

They all sat around the table at lunch.

“Will there be girls there?” Quil asks with a mouthful.

“Duh.” you say.

That’s when agreements were made amongst the group. All except one.

“You going?” you heard Jacob ask him.

“I’m good.” he muttered. He didn’t bother to look up not once since you sat at the table.

Jacob frowned a bit and you caught this.

“It will be fun without the attitudes anyway.” you say, looking at Jacob. You missed the glare that came from Paul.

You smooth out your costume with your hands and turn in one circle as you stood in the mirror.

“What do you think?” you ask nervously.

“Hot.” both Kim and Emily speaks out.

“Y/N. Look at you!” the guy who threw the party says.

“Hey. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I knew to invite you. You brought company. Good looking company at that.” he says as he eyes the people that you came with.

You playfully roll your eyes at his statement and merge and mingle with others.

Flickering your eyes around to spark up conversation, Paul was there.

You ignore him. He ignores you.

A song that you liked came on. It made you excited, however, a guy found your excitement to be adorable. You danced a bit on your own and he made his move.

He wasn’t bad looking at all. You give him attention.

“Do you know how to dance?” you ask and he nods confidently with a grin. You both dance. Song after song, you both laughed together as hands began to not be shy of one’s bodies.

Paul was stagnant on the couch. He had perfect view of what was happening on the dance floor, watching as a foreign feeling started to bubble inside of him.

Jealousy.

He felt it was personal. His fists were tight against his knees. A girl flopped down next to him as he stared ahead.

“Wanna dance?” she asks with a smirk.

He looked at her.

“Yeah.” he says.

She thought his bitter tone was hot. Paul allowed her to take his hand. He got closer and close to the spot where your hand was around the guy’s neck, your hips rolled and swayed to the beat.

Paul didn’t like the greediness that reeked from the guy you were dancing with. He didn’t even pay attention to the girl who danced up on him.

“Damn, you’re driving me crazy.” the guy says to you. Paul picks up the sultry giggle that bubbled out of your throat. He had to watch as the guy’s hands traveled down your waist, feeling you up and you allowing it.

Heads were tilted as you both lean in closer and closer, staring at each other with interest. Lips were inches away from each other and he knew what was about to happen.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His wolf couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing your arm, he ignored your protests.

In the hallway, you push him.

“The hell is your problem?” you yell. It was muffled from the loud music.

“We need to talk.” he grits out.

You walk away with a groan.

He grabbed your arm again and you both were standing on tile floor in the bathroom. He shuts the door.

“I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Why?” he asks angrily. He steps closer, “You were going to hook up with him?”

Meeting his fierce gaze, “You jealous?” you say with a teasing grin.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment before he huffed out softly.

“You wanted me to dance up on you like that, huh? All you had to do was ask.” you say and end it with your hand cupping his chin with your hand for a moment and you close the bathroom door behind you.

You shook your head.

You didn’t know where that came from. You knew that he didn’t want the imprint, so why you still kept the door of opportunity open for him, you weren’t too sure.

The guy you were dancing with comes back into your view.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks with his hands slightly up.

“Nowhere. I’m here now.” you say returning the smile he gave you.

He then displayed a look as he looked behind you, “That guy..I could talk to him if you want. I didn’t like him roughing you up like that.”

“Oh he didn’t-“ you start but you were interrupted.

“You’re gonna do what?” you hear Paul boom out.

Paul was now standing in front of you, pushing you behind him. You looked up at his back and the back of his head as you couldn’t believe that he would do such a thing. He acted so disinterested and now here he was, standing in front of you in a protective stance.

“Oh, so you heard me. Leave her alone.” the guy you danced with says.

“Or what?” Paul grits out.

One mistake happened. It was a shove. Paul barely budged but it was enough to make him snap.

He didn’t have to use much power but his shove made him stumble back hard onto the floor.

Crowd of eyes started to look.

The guy didn’t want to be embarrassed, not in front of his friends so he scrambled up fast to his feet but Paul was faster.

One punch in the mouth made him groan out in pain as Paul peered over him. Crowds of oohs surround the party and you grab Paul’s arm.

“We have to leave.” you say in panic.

Paul turns, walking right out of the door, but he makes sure that you are walking right with him.

Your feet tries their best to keep up with his steps. He’s fuming.

“I need to calm down. I don’t feel like phasing. Fuck!”

You watch him as he paced the empty lit up street, he tried his best to push the anger down.

“I’m sorry..” you say.

“For what? You didn’t even do anything.” Paul says but continues to pace.

“You can go back to the party. Go back to that guy. I don’t even care anymore.”

You snort a little, “Looks like you do care.”

He glared up.

“Paul. Why are you fighting it so much?” you ask.

“Fighting what? What are you even talking about Y/N?” he asks impatiently.

“You know what I’m talking about….” you say. He doesn’t say anything and you then turn to walk away.

You felt some type of way. He was making things hard for no reason.

“Where are you going?” he echoed out.

“Home.” you mutter.

You continue to walk. When you turned the corner onto your street, you didn’t expect him to be following you.

“Okay, you can leave now.” you say as you face your front door with your key.

“I don’t feel like it.” he says.

“Of course.” you mumble but the excitement fluttered about in your stomach as you unblocked your door.

He sat on your couch comfortably as you went to your room.

You struggle. You sigh in slight panic as your fingers tried their best to zip down the zipper. It was stuck.

You call for him.

He’s there.

“Do..Do you mind?” you ask and he’s walking towards you, “It’s stuck.” you continue.

His fingers fixed the zipper with ease and his fingers zipped it down.

He heard the fast racing or your heart.

“Thanks.” you whisper. He just looks at you. You look at him. It felt like a magical thread was attached to the both of you. So many pent up emotions were let out as you both slowly leaned in.

To you, his lips were perfect. To him, your lips were perfect. Both lips moved in sync as you both then clutch to each other. His dominant tongue swirled around yours and your knees buckled from such talent.

Falling backwards on the bed in your room, his knee was placed between your legs as he leaned down to continue to savor the taste of your mouth.

His hands felt up your body and your body screamed for more. The soft caresses that was inflicted upon him, made him and his wolf purr in satisfaction.

He didn’t know why he fought it for so long. All that he knew was, to claim you.

Your rolled side to side as you clutched onto his arms, his thick fingers pumping in and out of you. The sounds that uttered from your throat went right to his dick.

The same flesh that sprung out stiffly as he pulled his pants down.

Pumping into you carefully, it was you that clutched to him as he held you tight. He picked up the pace that made you sigh and whisper out his name. Gripping each other’s skin, his thrusts were powerful but full of passion.

As you both sit up and hugged each other, a deep and passionate kiss was shared between you two. You both saw stars as both set of hips met each other again and again. It looked and felt as if you two were all time lovers.

He kept his eyes open. He begged you to keep your eyes open. He wanted you to remember this moment, remember that you were making him feel this way. He didn’t want you to forget. You didn’t want to forget.

[violetflowers55]

Hot & Cold - Chapter 5

(Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)

Synopsis: After your bathroom escapades, Phosphorus completely ignores you, much to your confusion and dismay. That is, until some guy in the cafeteria tries to hit on you. Winding up in the med bay together, you finally let out all your anger and frustrations.

Notes: Does not follow canon events really. Also chapter 6 will be delayed by a day or two, sorry! Ik i told someone this chapter would be back to smut but I decided to push it to Ch.6 so this wasn’t too long.

CW: Physical bullying, death and violence (not as graphic as last chapter). random dude hits on you. Angst kind of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Throughout the thank you banquet, Phosphorus basically ignored you, as if he hadn’t just metaphorically set you on fire in the bathroom. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were going to eat the steak sitting on your plate.

“So. What was that metal thing that came out of you?” The Bride asked casually, like it was the most natural question in the world.

“Oh, that’s my, um, metal whip,” you answered sheepishly. Your powers weren’t exactly your favorite topic, but if you were going to keep doing missions with her, she should know. “I can only use it when I turn my skin to steel. It’s attached to my wrist.”

“Hm. Can you do anything else?”

“No, it’s just the whip,” your eyes darted to Phosphorus, expecting some innuendo or witty remark. He didn’t even look at you.

“That’s lame,” The Bride said, taking a glug of her beer.

“Oh I’m sorry, can you make any weapons shoot out of your body?”

She smiled. “Don’t need to.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “But I guess a metal whip could come in handy some day.”

Again, you glanced at Phosphorus. There were so many obvious jokes and innuendos he could make, yet he still paid you no mind. Part of you was relieved he was finally leaving you alone. It was what you had wanted from the start. You still hated him, nothing had changed that. But another part of you hurt by his sudden lack of interest bubbled up.

Did seeing you brutally murder men turn him off? No, because then he wouldn’t have felt you up in the bathroom. Maybe he just finally gave up on you. Maybe your moment together in the bathroom didn’t excite him the way it excited you. You tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t have expected anything different from him. You tried to tell yourself his lack of interest was a good thing. But the longer he ignored you, the harder it was to ignore the nagging voice in your head.

Even on the plane ride home, he sat as far away as possible from you. Being so far away from him made you miss the heat he provided. Catching yourself staring at him, you internally cringed at yourself. You were turning into a simping schoolgirl, and you hated it. You didn’t even like him, so why did you care so much if he liked you?

When you landed, the cold grey walls of Belle Reve greeted you. You’d let yourself loosen up while away, and now you had to readjust to prison life.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered to no one in particular. Phosphorus just walked past you, but The Bride at least let out a small chuckle.

It had only been two days, and you had already forgotten how much prison sucked. The orange prison garb was scratchy, everywhere was cold, and you were surrounded by screeching monsters, all ready to fight each. That night, you laid awake in your prison cell, repeatedly reminding yourself of your rules to survive.

At lunch the next day, you returned to your usual empty corner table. Even if Phosphorus wasn’t ignoring you, friends went against your rules, making The Bride, Nina, and Weasel off limits too. You watched as the four of them got lunch together, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy in your chest. But, you were just fine without friends before, and you’d be just fine without them now.

A hand slammed down onto the table from behind you. You looked up to see a red hulking man with horns protruding from his head grinning over you.

“Hey baby,” he leaned in, his hot smelly breath hitting your face like a dumpster on a hot summer day, “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing sitting all alone?”

Standing up, you grabbed the inhibitor collar around his neck and slammed his head into the table. You were half tempted to rip his tongue out, to let out all your pent up frustrations on him.

“You must be new here.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, his voice strained from you pressing down on his throat.

“Because otherwise, you’d know I’ve killed men for less than what you just called me.” You expected the grin on his face to fade, but it seemed to grow, shifting into a more malicious one.

“I may be new here, but I ain’t new.”

The next thing you knew, you were thrown face first into the ground with such a force it actually hurt. You turned over to stand back up only to see a boot coming down towards your face. Behind it, you spotted the red man watching with a satisfied smile. You lifted your arms to block it, but ended up getting your arms slammed into your face. Not letting your recover, the goon kicked you in the stomach. You wheezed, all your air leaving your body from the blow. Before you could breathe again, he kicked you again, even harder than before. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to crawl away, only for him to stomp on your back. You screamed in pain, desperately trying to make your skin turn to steel despite your inhibitor collar.

Suddenly, you could breathe again. You turned over to see Phosphorus slamming the goon’s head into the wall repeatedly. The guy who originally approached you sat in your seat, signaling to, presumably, more of his goons. Rage filled your body. Any mercy you originally planned to show him went out the window. You grabbed his ankle and pulled him down to the ground with you. Just as you were about to punch through his skull, one of his other goons pulled Phosphorus off the now dead goon, slamming him up against the wall and snapping his forearm.

“Alex!” you shouted, worry overriding your anger.

Of course, that was when the guards finally decided to show up. One pulled you off the red guy while another pulled the goon of Phosphorous.

“Get these two to the medical bay,” the head guard demanded, pointing at you and Phosphorus, “and get this one to the morgue.” He nudged the goons lifeless body with his foot, like he wanted to check he was really dead without touching him, lest he have monster cooties.

The medical bay was the worst part of Belle Reve. You did everything you could to avoid it, not that that was really a challenge. For one thing, they kept the medical bay about three degrees colder than the rest of the prison. Three degrees doesn’t seem like much on paper, but when you’re already always cold, it’s practically freezing. For another thing, the medical bay was devoid of all signs of life. It was far enough away from everything else that you could barely hear the usual clanging and shouting. There were no TVs, no books, no games, nothing to keep you entertained. It was just you and four pure white walls. Except this time, Phosphorus was laying in the bed right next to you.

The clocked ticked as you waited for the doctor to return. Your scans showed no internal bleeding or broken bones, but they wanted to keep you for observation for the night. Phosphorus’s arm was definitely broken, but they had no clue what kind of cast to put on it. That’s what they were doing now, trying to figure what to do.

“You’re horrible at thanking people, you know that?” Phosphorous said, finally breaking the long silence.

“What?”

“I mean, I just saved your life - for the second time, I might add - and you haven’t even asked if I’m ok. The proper thing to do is to say thank you.”

“I didn’t need your help.”

He snorted. “Yeah, you had it covered. If you consider getting kicked around ‘covered’.”

You glared at him. “So why do you keep ‘saving’ me if I’m so ungrateful?”

“I dunno, I liked how you showed your gratitude last time,” he laughed lightly, grinning at you, “and I didn’t even break any limbs before. What do I get for a broken arm?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you groaned in disgust.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” he teased, acting like he hadn’t just ignored you for 24 hours.

“What the hell is your deal?” you snapped, glaring at him.

“Woah, what?” he said, taken aback by your sudden anger.

“I’m serious. First you follow me around like a lovesick puppy. Then you fuck me, agree to forget about it, but don’t actually. Next you ‘save’ me and feel me up in the bathroom, only to act like I don’t exist until I need ‘saving’ again. So seriously, what the fuck is your deal?”

He stared at you in shock, his jaw hanging open stupidly. When you realized you weren’t getting a response, you turned back to face the wall with a huff. The white walls didn’t ignore you. They didn’t make your stomach churn. They were consistent, reliable.

Christ, am I seriously praising walls right now? What is wrong with me?

You needed real answers, and you needed them now.

“Why do you keep saving me?” you asked, turning over again to face him.

“I told you, last time-“

“No, I want the real answer. I have my suspicions, but I want to know why you keep saving me when I don’t need saving.”

He looked at you, dropping his usual mask. “What are your suspicions?”

You bit your lip, unsure of whether or not to say it. If you were wrong, it would fuck everything up. But there was no way you were wrong, and you needed to hear him admit it.

“I think you’re trying to pay penance for getting me locked up in here in the first place.”

His face went through a myriad of expressions before he spoke, a mix of confusion, anger, sadness, and others you couldn’t discern.

“I’m sorry, what? You think I got you locked up in Belle Reve?�� he was more serious than you’d ever heard him be before.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, you know-“

“Wowww, so now I’m dumb? First I’m a traitor, and now I’m an idiot?” he raised himself on his good arm to stare you down as his spoke, his voice dripping in sarcasm and venom.

“Oh please, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I rob a bank you wanted to rob, and two days later Batman’s locking me up for that heist and a million others crimes. It’s not rocket science.” If he wanted to be sarcastic, two could play that game.

“Yet somehow you put two and two together and got five.” He laid back down flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He sounded detached, like he was genuinely hurt over your accusation. You scoffed at his dramatics.

“Are you seriously going to try to tell me you had nothing to do with me getting caught?”

He turned and looked at you before speaking again. There was a mix of sadness and anger in his eyes.

“I’m saying you only have yourself to blame for ending up here, just like the rest of us.”

As his words started to sink in, the doctor returned to take Phosphorus and get his arm casted. You watched him as they rolled his bed out. He didn’t look back.

You flopped back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was right. You only had yourself to blame.

Fuck.

[cjthemfdj]

obvious

we listen and we don’t judge

in which…avery convinced hamzah to do the tiktok trend ‘we listen and we don’t judge’

“i know you know exactly what trend i’m talking about,”avery turned her body so she was facing hamzah on his couch and bat her eyelashes dramatically, “pleaseee.”

hamzah sighed, “fine, but i need to think of some things first.”

“okay, yay!” avery set up her phone so it was set up in front of them on the coffee table. they repositioned themselves so that they were in frame and facing the camera.

avery started filming, “okay ready?”

“wait what? no give me some time girl,” he exaggerated before putting his head in his hands to think.

avery rolled her eyes before stopping the filming but not deleting that part.

five minutes later hamzah had finally done his thinking, “okay i’m ready.”

“finally,” avery started filming again, “okay we gotta say it together, ready?”

“we listen and we don’t judge,” they slowly said together and being unable to contain a smile while looking at each other.

“one time when i spent the night at your place, i stole one of your hoodies and regifted it to my brother for christmas,” avery said, laughing through it.

hamzah’s jaw dropped open, “what?!? which one?!?”

“see you don’t even miss it!” avery exclaimed, “we listen and we don’t judge.”

“fine well one time i used your toothbrush,” hamzah said laughing, covering his mouth.

“hamzah! are you fucking kidding?!?” avery yelled and hamzah shook his head still laughing, “ugh that’s nasty, oh my god,” avery put her head down in her lap.

“we listen and we don’t judge!” hamzah said while shaking avery’s shoulders.

“okay sometimes i lie and say im really tired after work just cause i know you’ll offer to get me food or make me something,” avery admitted.

“okay that’s not bad, but now you’ve ruined it , i’m not doing that anymore,” hamzah laughed.

“noooo we listen and we don’t judge!” avery complained.

“i have a photo album of just pictures of you in outfits I’ve thought looked good so that whenever you’re complaining about having nothing to wear, i’ll just go through it and suggest one and it ALWAYS works,” hamzah shared proudly.

avery pushed his shoulder, “stop you’re lying, you weirdo,” they laughed together, “can you share that album with me?”

“no it’s my secret,” hamzah said and avery rolled her eyes

“we listen and we don’t judge,” they both said together.

“i only listen to your podcast if i know i was mentioned in it,” avery said through a laugh.

“okay i know that already,” hamzah exclaimed throwing his hands up, “you’re secretly a hater, girl.”

“no no i just hear you guys yap like everyday of my life, i do not need to hear any more,” avery said with a sorry look on her face.

“yeah yeah whatever,” hamzah said with a fake sad sigh.

avery pushed hamzah’s arm, “okay do one more.”

“we listen and we don’t judge,” they said together.

hamzah’s smile fell slightly, “last time i picked you up after the bar, i had to fight quite literally every urge humanly possible in my body to ignore you basically throwing yourself at me,” he took a deep breath in and laughed, “it sucked.”

avery’s smile dropped and she stopped the recording, “okay well i can’t post that.”

“i thought we weren’t judging,” hamzah laughed and watched as avery’s face turned from what looked like surprise to confusion to beet red.

“way to ruin my funny video,” avery leaned back against the couch and slumped, “also there’s no way i was throwing myself at you, that seems a bit dramatic.”

hamzah scoffed, “you literally referred to me as your ‘booty call’ and said, and i quote, ‘i can think of a few things you could do with me.’”

avery rolled her eyes, “okay yeah that’s my bad,” avery looked around the room before looking back to hamzah, “maybe try to look, you know, uglier when you interact with drunk me. she tends to have very little self control.”

hamzah laughed then smirked, “you calling me cute, aves?”

“in your dreams,” she laughed, “you’re mediocre at best.”

“yeah yeah, whatever you say, miss-“ he threw up air quotes and mocked her in a high pitch voice, “oh hamzah please i’m so needy and helpless will you please help me undo my top?” hamzah did his best to reenact avery’s drunken movements and voice.

“i’m never calling you ever again,” avery stood up and began to walk to the other room.

hamzah watched her leave before yelling, “i’ll be expecting a call friday night!”

——

[toytoriyadorm]

CHAPTER 5: Busy!

Yuukei pushed open the front doors of the gigantic dollhouse, no longer surprised by the messes this dorm likes to leave in its creative wake. Around them were tens of students, some bustling around with things like props to toolboxes and even the occasional outfit on a mannequin. Others, meanwhile, were either on the floor painting a set or at one of the bright pink tables sifting through a large stack of scripts.

A very busy day for Toytoriya, it seems.

With Grim peeking his head outside Yuukei’s school bag, the two walked up to a lively group of students. “Hi there, do you know where I need to go to see the dorm leader?” 

However, the group paid him no mind, ignoring him in favor of chattering about the recent changes made to the manuscript in front of them. 

“No, no, no. This still won’t work. Not against the star actor!”

“But it’s a solid plot!” A short student piped up, “A tragedy about a time traveler’s desperate attempt to fix what he’s lost! Simple enough to entice the audience but is still outside the box so as to not be cliche!”

“Uh, exc-” Yuukei tried chiming in.

“Do you think our dorm leader is looking for outside the box?? He voted for Neige during VDC even though all he did was sing a stupid kids’ song!”

“Hey, so-”

“N-not to put a pin in this debate, but…a reminder that if we’re changing the script we only have a day to implement the changes.” An elegant student with a dinosaur sticker muttered.

And with that comment, the crew in front of Yuukei went silent, breaking up in order to scramble with their– apparently– bad script. The Ramshackle student let out a sigh as his question went unanswered.

Unfortunately, the same thing would occur with the other Toytoriya members, all too engrossed in their dorm projects to give any attention to the newcomer in their midst. Any and all questions coming from Yuukei, Ace, and Deuce were met with “Sorry! Can’t talk now!” and “I don’t know, excuse me!”. As friendly as the prefect could be, he could feel his patience beginning to run low.

“Nyeh, Deuce, maybe you were onto something back at the entrance.” Grim glowered at the hectic scene from the bookbag. “It must have been a mistake for any of us to come at all…” 

“Don’t say that,” Yuukei glanced at his familiar, “It's just a busy time! There’s gotta be someone who can help us…”

Then, out of nowhere, Deuce and Yuukei felt a cold hand touch their shoulders. Whipping their heads around, the two jumped as they met the equally cold eyes of a red-haired student, who was smiling cheerfully. 

“H-hello!” Deuce said aloud, “Could you help us? We’re looking for someone.”

The girl nodded profusely, the extra limbs behind her sewing up a dress as she signaled to Deuce. 

“Oh thank god,” Yuukei sighed. “Now we can get back on track! Ace, let's hurry and- Hey, where’s Ace?”

The blonde student paused as he looked around, unable to spot his ginger-haired classmate amongst the commotion. Suddenly, the sound of metal crashing onto the floor and a few good swears turn the trio towards the front of the foyer, where both the lost Heartslabyul student and a drying banner are covered in fresh paint.

CHAPTER 6: Fight, Fight, Fight!

“No, no!” A Toytoriya student ran over to the now-ruined banner. “My assignment! My poor assignment!!” He pointed a finger at Ace. “You–!”

“Hey, I’m sorry!” Ace apologized as he looked at his now-colorful pants. “I didn’t see the paint, I’ll get out of your hair now!”

“No!” The student screamed, “You need to compensate me right now and fix this!”

“Compensate?!” Ace yelled back, “It's just paint, m-”

Before the “man” could slip out of the red-head’s mouth, he was met with a hard slap to the face by the student.

Deuce’s jaw dropped as the room went quiet. 

“Ah, this is starting to feel familiar.” Yuukei thought, as he watched Ace throw his fist right into the guy’s stomach.

“Henchman!” Grim yelled from the bag, “Looks like he got reinforcements, we gotta help Ace out!” 

As the two groups began duking it out, a crowd of pastel pink began to form around the area, entranced and horrified by the brawl in front of them. 

But once the accusing student pulled out his wand on Ace, intervention finally appeared. The student couldn’t even mutter a word as a glass box trapped the Toytoriya students in place.

“I leave for two minutes, and you guys begin fighting like infants?” A deep voice comes from the staircase leading upstairs. Yuukei looks up to see a disgruntled, older-looking guy with marks of what appeared to be black paint on his cheeks.If not for his uniform, he would have thought the man was a teacher rather than a student.

“Who started it?” He questioned, his tired eyes looking around the room with a threatening glare. The room immediately pointed to the newcomers, leaving Deuce and Yuukei to sputter out a futile explanation. But before the tall student could grab and throw them out, a voice broke through the silence.

“Ahh wait, wait!” The crowd broke apart, revealing a blonde student in what looked to be harlequin makeup. He appeared rather relaxed for someone who had witnessed a brawl. “Don’t go kicking people out just yet, Pat!”

“That’s a lot coming out of the student who was supposed to be managing in my place, Saturn.” The white haired student, Pat, replied, ignoring the trapped students banging on the magic glass.

“But I was managing! And keeping an eye out too…” Saturn trailed off, scratching the back of his shaggy, blonde hair. “Anyways, that Heartslabyul guy knocked some paint over, sure, but the kid in there threw the first slap.” He pointed to the group trapped in the glass box.

“Oh, really?” Pat turned his head to the now-terrified dorm students, who had all backed into the corner of the trap. With the wave of his wand, the contraption disappeared. “All of you, upstairs, everyone else, back to work! I know we’re all in a crunch, but the Festival is tomorrow, and your dorm leader would be disappointed to hear he can’t see everyone’s work because you all chose to watch a fight instead!”

[hplonesomeart]

Wow I think I’m soooo funny sometimes jksjsksp. Sorry this is nothing more than a quick shitpost edit because everytime I rewatch this lovely vid my brain automatically inserts these stupid audio clips. I needed to get it out of my head lol

Pretty sure you all know who Opossol is by now (literally the artist who indirectly introduced me to Puzzlevison in the first place) but wanna encourage everyone to rewatch Creative Control on YouTube for the 30th time because let’s face it—we are all in dire need of Puzzle content right now. This animatic really did get me hooked into learning more about Puzzles and SMG4 as a whole, so I cannot express how glad I am to have been introduced to this wacky guy through her prequel fan story. Helped inspire me to get my own ideas out there :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

Pit Bonnie wants to be the best FNAF bunny

[royaltea000]

[wipinf] thinking bout that one part in jttw96 where nezha and hong hai er fight in a dream

[stealingyourbones]

I was talking to a friend about how good of a father is batman and he argued that if he really was one he would have his family in therapy. Have you read anything like this in any of the issues? All can think of the top my head is that one Young justice episode.

this is in my opinion, but Batman is a nebulously alright father. Bruce both loves and will intentionally hurt his kids if it’s for the greater good and to protect them. He is a comic book character. To make interesting plots you need to have constant drama, wether it be familial or related to the current comic arc, and for that drama to never fully be quelled so you can recycle the same issues over and over. Comic writers benefit from shitty family dynamics and it wouldn’t be profitable if they had an ok family dynamic that was healthy.

With that out of the way, Bruce doesn’t go to therapy. If he does go his therapist would definitely be Harley Quinn. Publicly he might go to a therapist for his Bruce Wayne persona but would flawlessly portray a playboy bachelor and not address any real issues he has to his therapist. I haven’t seen a comic where he either goes to therapy or gains anything from it. I know in the Caped Crusader tv show Bruce goes to Harley and completely avoids feeding her any true problems about himself and walls himself off completely. This is before he has any robins if I can recall.

Hope this helps!

[yourlittlettoy]

Alright, it’s long overdue but let’s finally get a lil intro post going ☺️

Hi everyone!! My name is Cece 💕👋🏻 it’s so very nice to see you here 🥰😉

My pronouns are she/her 🎀 , I’m in my 20s 🙆🏻‍♀️, I’m bisexual 🤝����, and I’m a… lee 🙈 (18+ only on this account pls and thx ☺️)

T-wording (yeah yeah I can’t say the t-word, sue me lmao) is certainly my main kink, but I may or may not also have certain other “preferences” as well 😳 but you’ll have to find those out yourself if you were so inclined ~

I’m a shy gal, despite sharing more than a reasonable amount of traits as a typical golden retriever lol. I’m very nerdy, enthusiastic, curious to a fault, certified member of the good girl’s club 😇, and have so much love 4 u 💖💘💗!! However, unfortunately for you, even the love won’t stop me from being a serious pain in the butt. Consider this your warning ⚠️😂.

Last thing I really want to mention, is that I am not good at being consistent when it comes to responding to messages/asks. I just want to make it clear right now that: my response times or responses at all (or potentially lack thereof) does not reflect a lack of affection and/or enthusiasm towards getting to know you, valuing you, or appreciating your interaction! I truly am so thankful for each and every one of you that take time out of your day to reach out/interact with lil ol’ me 🥺 and in a perfect world I would be responding to everything and everyone with full attention and time devotion! I just also lead a busy life outside of Tumblr and often time is simply scarce. Please grant me this grace 😊 and believe me when I say I LOVE READING ALL YOUR INTERACTIONS whether I have a chance to tell you that in a response or not! Thank you for this treat even though I can’t always reciprocate 💞 (feel free to double/triple etc message to keep yourself at the top of my inbox if you really want a response tho! Cause believe me I wanna give it to you! So the frequent reminder helps!)

Anyway, if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading my intro post!! Welcome to my blog! Hope you enjoy your stay here 😚💝 stay lovely ✨💫⭐️

[possiblyfunny]

Hello again, fellas. (And to whoever is actually interested in looking at my weird little AU-) Sanctuary has been on my mind lately and uhhh, I’d like to introduce you to some new characters!

Meet the Eventide Duo: REI and KAI!

I, like with Aster and Del, have never drawn them before, and because I honestly didn’t have it in me to do two full-body drawings with color and everything, doodling them was the next best thing. I’ve been thinking about these two a lot and just really wanted to get them down as a start. Soooo—this is their first pass and things are subject to change! (Please excuse the messiness-)

Rei (the Red) and Kai (the Blue) come from—okay this is kinda funny now that I’m writing it out—their AU was inspired by an FNF fan song that I heard awhile back. It was something like “Frostbite but Blue.” The person who made the song (I don’t remember their name off the top of my head) said they were going to post the lore, but as far as I know they never did, so my brain kinda took the concept and ran with it—making it into my own story. (Sorry to whoever that was-)

Rei is the fledgling god of the Sun and the Second Coming of Arceus. He ascended to godhood after his untimely death, returning to earth to protect the one he loves. Rei may look like a massive grump, but in reality, he's a ray of sunshine and one of the most warm-hearted and protective people you'll ever meet. Kai is still a Pokémon Trainer, but he’s also Rei's singular devotee. He's honestly pretty quiet for a Blue, if not a bit high-strung, but he's loyal and sweet, even if he has a bit of a hard time showing it.

The both of them worked together to survive the violent floods and rainfall that devastated their original home, and now live a quiet life together in Sanctuary, going on little adventures here and there to try and reclaim the life they lost bit by bit.

(Okay, time to tag my one fan. @100nebulas , I think you said you wanted more Sanctuary content in general that one time, so I guess you’re gonna be eternally tagged in these lmao. Hope you enjoy :])