#This is the sort of thing that keeps me hoping

[loganofthenorth]

Did I go into this thinking I'd be a mighty hero? Of course not.

...

Okay, well, maybe a little bit... I wouldn't have gone on this quest had I thought it would end this way. I was foolish. Had hope I might prevail. Instead, water drips from the drip stone high above my head, and echoes against the cracked stone floor. Streams run into these cracks and several luminous dragonflies zip around the area to collect any flies enjoying the damp atmosphere. I'm not sure if my lack of breath is due to fear, or the humid air which suffocated me in this dark place underneath the ocean.

"Well, 'Chosen One?' Are you going to bow down and face judgement, or are you going to stand there like a snivelling coward?" The taller man standing across the cave from me questioned. A dragon with scales that reflected what little light the cave offered in a chromatic sort of way circled us. Her giant feet were slow in their steps as she gracefully moved her large body around the two of us. If I ran, she'd likely swallow me whole... I could sleigh her with my sword, but then what? He was a powerful wizard with magic which could restrain me. If I attack him first, the dragon will fry me. I could likely escape with my life, but... I likely would not escape with the artifact that hid within my bag, a loose raggedy thing strapped to my shoulder.

"Dimitri has terrible taste in heroes..." The wizard sighed in exhausted dismay. He took a moment to comb back his long black hair, which shined like the dragon's scales. A cocky smirk rested under his large nose, and his green eyes- the colour of which also matched the dragon's scales- glimmered with amusement. "What is it with great wizards and sending scrawny children to do their dirty work? Why can't he be a proper gentleman and perform his own suicide missions?" The wizard complained.

"You... Know Master Gracen?" I asked timidly.

"Why, has Dimitri not told you? I thought certainly he'd have at least warned you what you were up against. Please, allow me to introduce myself." The wizard before me mused. He bowed gracefully to me, a wicked grin across his face. "The name is Corren Hofftraitor. You can call me Coy, if you like."

"Coy? Like your attitude?" I couldn't prevent myself from snarking him despite the grave situation.

Coy laughed and clutched his stomach as his deep bellowing echoed through the cavern. "Yes," He heaved for breath as he finally calmed down. I felt my shoulders slump, and my gaze avert away from him. "Yes, like my attitude. I do like the younger heroes, they have such spirit in them. So nice to see someone who has yet to be crushed by the world... A shame I'll have to kill you to get what I want." Coy continued. He reached out his hand towards me, then held his chin up high. "Now kneel, and present the artifact to me. Or I shall make the remainder of your life a living hell." He threatened.

"But... My village. We need this artifact." I stammered. I took a step back, and the dragon growled in warning.

"Inerva, at ease." Coy soothed his reptilian friend. The dragon ruffled her wings and blew out smoke, then shifted her legs and lowered herself to lay down. "There's a good girl." Coy praised as he reached out and patted her scales gently. "As for your village... Might I ask, what does your village need this time? Will this artifact stop a monster? Perhaps cure a drought? Or, mayhaps, is it going to break a curse? I'm curious what con my old friend and rival is pulling this time." Coy went on, his attention back on me.

I could have escaped at this point... Grab my broken broomstick from the jagged ground and cast a quick mending spell before his dragon gets up. Or perhaps a teleportation spell would be more practical... I'd just need to know where I'm teleporting to.

Regardless, I was curious. "Con, Mr. Hofftraiter?" I asked to clarify.

"Yes, a con. The idea that anyone can be special and save the world by adding random things to some Wizard's collection. Kids keep getting killed over this and yet he's the 'good' guy." Coy complained.

"For the record, I'm not a kid, I'm 21." I defended.

"Oh, honey. To me that still makes you a kid." Coy mused. "But regardless... There's nothing magical about that trinket. It's simply a rare collector's item and your 'Master' wants it for himself." Coy explained.

"You're lying! Master Gracen said we needed it to craft a potion to cure my people's disease!" I declared.

"Ah, so that's what he promised you... A cute in exchange for the trinket. How quant. Unfortunately, I am also a collector, and unlike Dimitri I get my own hands dirty for what I want. Now hand it over and accept your fate." Coy threatened deviously.

The feeling of despair fell over my shoulders, and the realization that I had failed, doomed my entire family. All I could do then, was pray. I whispered to any Gods whom might listen, begged them to assist me in this moment of possible failure, and grant me guidance on what to do next.

I knelt down in front of the villain, and slowly reached inside my bag. While Coy pulled out a large knife, I pulled out the artifact. Eagerly, Coy swiped it from my hands. Then chuckled maliciously.

"Oh, excellent. This will go nicely beside my Egyptian Artifact collection." Coy decided.

I closed my eyes and waited, knowing this would be the end..

I felt cold steel against my neck after I obeyed a firm command to bow my head.

Then a sharp pain, and warm blood dripping from my neck and down my back. I was surprised, however, when the sword was sheathed and a hand was offered to me.

"There. In return, I have removed the tracking spell your Master engraved in you." Coy announced.

"The what spell!?!" I exclaimed.

"Gods you're oblivious... er... How about we return to my place, you can become my own apprentice, and I can tell you everything. K?" Coy offered as he climbed onto the back of his dragon.

"I... can't betray my Master. Or abandon my people." I argued.

"Your master is supposed to be protecting that village. He doesn't need a special vase to make the antidote, he'll do it once he realizes you're not coming back. Your master sees you as a tool, nothing more." Coy informed me.

"I guess..." I conceded. I felt a pit form in my stomach, knowing I couldn't return without that artifact or Master Gracen would not heal my people. "I have always wanted to ride a dragon..." I then attempted to persuade myself.

Coy smiled, then patted a space behind him. I eagerly ran over, climbed on, and held Inerva's spikes tightly.

Apparently I'd be the fifth adventurer Coy ended up adopting.

Which is better than being the fifth one to die certainly.

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

[riddlesrose]

the small things he does

w/ idia, riddle, leona, floyd, cater & azul

cw; none :p

idia has a habit of grabbing onto your hand when he gets nervous. he'll instinctually reach for it when there's a large group of people he really doesn't want to get caught up in, or when you finally convince him that he should be attending more classes in person; he'll sit next to you and trace shapes and words into the back of your hand, hidden by the desks.

riddle leaves small notes in your textbooks, small pick-me-ups to 'help' you keep studying, though he knows you're okay without him. he leaves the small notes between pages, you notice there's usually two per chapter. since he knows you don't need the help, he turns to leaving small sentences of affirmation or endearment. his face turns bright red if you bring it up to him, he denies it all but he's the only one you usually study with. (therefore, the only one with access to your unattended textbooks..)

leona unintentionally wraps his tail around one of your limbs, whether it's around your arms or tickling the skin of your leg, it's there. even if he's not sleeping it'll snake it's way around you, he claims his tail has a mind of its own- that he doesn't do it on purpose, but you know he does and that it lets him relax, knowing you're there.

floyd's bottom lip juts out when you go to leave the lounge or his room, he pouts like a child that's been denied a toy at the store. he really enjoys your company, how you listen to him with no complaints, he could simply steal you away forever. his shrimpy, no one else's.

cater has a whole lot of candid photos of you, he loooves the ones where you're gazing gently at the roses, or helping someone out. he can't get over the softness in your eyes, or the way your smile is so genuine, though it's never forced when you're with him, it's just a different kind of genuine. no matter, he loves it (and you) regardless.

azul will take time when there's a surplus amount of change in the lounge and sort through it- claiming he's just counting it- looking for coins with interesting designs on them. he'll show you, hoping you share the same interest in the coins that he does. if you do, and possibly think it's cooler than he does, he'll slip it off to the side, eventually placing it into your palm, and ushering you out, back to your dorm for the night.

[viagracex]

okay here me out on this - you’re a youtuber and tiktoker who’s friends with the boys and always had a little crush on george, and he you, but you’re both cowards. it’s valentine’s day coming up and all the other boys have dates/are away and so are your girl friends so you say to george hey let’s do a friend v day like valentine’s day or smthn because he’s sad he doesn’t have a gf, he comes to your flat, you cook, watch rom coms, drink a lot of wine and you play games but you accidentally play a couples game 😉😉😉😉 and you end up doing the deed and in the end both agree to go on an ACTUAL valentines date the next day hehehehehe

A Valentine's Between Friends

george clarke x fem!reader

summary: a friendly valentine's evening leads to anything but…

warnings: sexual content, smut (MDNI)

3.4k words (may have got a bit carried away)

note: Anon, thank you so much for the request. It's my first time writing smut so I hope you like it, sorry if it's awkward and cringy. If it sucks let me know and would love to get more requests.

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

It was the sort of cold February evening that made you want to curl up with a blanket, a glass of wine, and pretend the world outside didn’t exist. The sort of evening that made you consider just not getting out of bed at all. Except for the fact that your phone was pinging with messages from the boys.

You groaned into your pillow, staring at the screen.

Chris had a date with someone he met on one of his spontaneous trips. Arthur was spending Valentine’s Day with a new girlfriend who he met through TikTok. Even your best friend was off on a family holiday. leaving you all alone.

You could already feel that aching hole in your chest. Valentine’s Day, of all days, was particularly terrible when you were single. The entire world seemed to be a constant reminder of the relationships you didn’t have. Of the fact that your phone was always empty, save for messages from your mates.

But then, there was George.

You had always had a soft spot for him. It started back when you all met, years ago, the banter, the cheeky comments, the laughs, the way he made you feel like you were always in on some secret joke. And now, well... now, it was just confusing. It had become a game of will-they-won’t-they. Neither of you ever crossed the line—too much fear of what might happen if you did. But god, how you both danced around it.

You hated the idea of spending Valentine’s Day alone, and so did he. So why not just make it a thing? A friend Valentine’s Day—no expectations, no awkwardness. You’d keep it chill.

You shot him a quick text.

“Wanna have an anti-Valentine's Day? I'll cook, we can drink wine, watch rom-coms and maybe play some games. Neither of us have plans, so why not? Let me know xx"

It didn’t take long before his reply came through.

"That sounds like exactly what I need. I’ll be over in an hour."

It was almost comically easy. But as the hour passed, you found yourself slightly nervous, unsure of what to expect. Was this just a chill night? Or was there something more lurking under the surface? You tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on getting everything ready.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, the sizzle of garlic in the pan mingling with the rich aroma of tomatoes—a simple, hearty meal to pair perfectly with the wine you’d bought. As you laid the table, each placement was a silent testament to the years of friendship that had intricately laced your lives together.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. George stood there, hands buried deep in his pockets, his smile shy but genuine.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping into the warmth of your flat, the cold nipping at his heels. "This is a surprise. Smells like you've outdone yourself."

You chuckled, "Microwave meals are tragic on Valentine’s, even for friends."

He let out a laugh, sitting down at the table. "Fair enough. This looks pretty decent, actually. I’m impressed."

The evening unfolded with an ease that only true friendship could afford. Dinner was a merry affair, filled with laughter and nostalgic exchanges about past escapades with the boys. As the wine flowed, the barriers of mere friendship seemed to melt away, replaced by a tender connection that neither of you had dared to explore.

He grinned, taking off his jacket and hanging it up, glancing around your flat. "I’ve got to admit, this is a bit of a shocker. You’re actually being… domestic?"

"Well, thank you," you replied, smiling. "I even put some effort into it, just for you." You pulled the wine out of the fridge, uncorking it and pouring another glass for both of you.

The conversation flowed easily after that—easy banter, jokes about past video shoots, hilarious stories about the boys. But beneath the jokes, there was something soft lingering in the air. It was the unsaid, the little sparks you both danced around every time you spent time together.

As the evening wore on, the wine started to loosen your inhibitions. You moved to the couch, both of you nestled into the cushions, a blanket draped across your legs. The rom-com marathon began, and you both laughed at the ridiculous plot twists, snickered at the corny lines, but neither of you could ignore the growing tension between you.

"Should we play a game?" you asked, glancing at the coffee table where you had set out a box of games, most of them silly. "Something to pass the time? No pressure, I promise."

George gave you smile. "Yeah, I’m game. As long as it’s not too weird."

You grinned. "Oh, it’s not that weird. It’s just a couples game."

He raised an eyebrow. "Couples game? What, like Truth or Dare, but for couples?"

"Exactly," you replied with a laugh, though your heart was now beating in your throat. "But it’s mostly silly stuff. You know, harmless. Just a fun thing to do on Valentines."

You could see his hesitation, the subtle shift in his posture. "Alright. But I’m not kissing you, just so we’re clear."  He finished his sentence with a cheeky wink.

You snorted. "Who said anything about kissing?"

With a shake of his head, George grabbed the card deck, and you both started drawing cards one after another, each more ridiculous than the last. The questions were harmless, at first: "What's your partner's worst habit?" and "What's their favourite food?" The game seemed lighthearted enough. Until it wasn't.

George drew the next card, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped it over. The room suddenly felt too warm, the air thick with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he read the card aloud: "Describe your most vivid fantasy involving the person sitting across from you."

Your eyes widened, and you felt a jolt of electricity course through your body. The playful atmosphere evaporated in an instant, replaced by a crackling intensity that made your skin tingle. George's gaze met yours, his pupils dilating ever so slightly.

"We don't have to-" you started to say, but George cut you off with a subtle shake of his head. His voice low and husky. "No, it's okay. I want to answer."

"It's always the same dream," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "We're alone on a deserted beach at sunset. The sky is painted in shades of orange and pink, and the waves are gently lapping at our feet."

You felt your breath catch in your throat as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

He continued, his voice growing more confident. "You're wearing that white sundress I love, the one that shows off your shoulders. Your hair is loose, blowing in the sea breeze. I reach out to brush a strand from your face, and suddenly we're so close I can feel your breath on my lips."

The room was dead silent now, and you’re hanging onto George's every word.

Your heart raced as George's words painted a vivid picture, one that mirrored your own secret fantasies. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity.

"And then?" you whispered, barely trusting your voice.

George's eyes darkened. "Then I kiss you. Softly at first, but it quickly becomes more. My hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You taste like salt and cherries."

You felt a flush creep up your neck, your skin tingling with each word.

"We fall back onto the sand," he continued, his voice low and intense. "The waves crash around us, but we don't care. All that matters is the feel of your skin against mine, the sound of your breath catching as I-"

George's voice trailed off, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air between you. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that seemed to pulse with each rapid beat of your heart. You realized you were holding your breath, your body leaning towards George unconsciously.

"As you what?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse in your ears.

George swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. He looked almost pained, as if continuing would shatter some invisible barrier between fantasy and reality. But his eyes, dark and intense, never left yours.

"As I trace every curve of your body," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "As I worship you with my hands, my lips, my entire being. In that moment, you're my entire world."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, your skin erupting in goose bumps.

The silence that followed was deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the heat radiating from your flushed skin. George's confession hung in the air between you, electric and charged with possibility.

"I..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. How could you possibly respond to such a raw, intimate revelation?

George's eyes searched yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire swirling in their depths. "Your turn," he said softly, pushing the deck of cards towards you with trembling fingers.

Your hand hovered over the stack, suddenly aware of how this next card could change everything. With a deep breath, you flipped it over.

"If you could do anything right now, without consequences, what would it be?"

The question seemed to mock you, daring you to voice the thoughts that had been building since George began speaking. You looked up, meeting his gaze once more. The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken tension.

"I..." you started again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I would make your fantasy a reality."

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implication. George's eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly rose from your seat. Your heart pounded as you crossed the short distance between you, each step feeling like an eternity. George's gaze followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and disbelief etched across his features.

As you reached him, you gently took the card from his hands, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Then, with a courage you didn't know you possessed, you lowered yourself onto his lap, your legs straddling his.

George's hands instinctively moved to your waist, steading you.

"We may not have a sunset, but..." Your voice trailed off as you brought your face closer to his, your lips mere inches apart. "We can make our own paradise right here."

George's breath hitched, his fingers tightening on your waist. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you hovered on the precipice of something monumental. Then, with a soft groan, George closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

It was everything you had imagined and more. His lips were soft yet insistent, moving against yours with a passion that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

George's hands roamed your back, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. When you finally broke apart for air, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together.

"I've wanted this for so long," George murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His hands cupped your face gently, thumbs stroking your cheeks as if he couldn't quite believe you were real.

You leaned into his touch, your heart racing. "Me too," you whispered back, surprised by the intensity of your own feelings.

George's eyes searched yours, a mix of desire and vulnerability swirling in their depths. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in again, this time placing a soft, reverent kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. Each touch of his lips sent sparks through your body.

When he finally reclaimed your lips, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You melted into him, your bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, barely above a whisper, as if the question was as much for him as it was for you.

You leaned in slightly, your breath mingling with his. "I’m sure," you murmured, before closing the distance between you with a kiss.

It started soft—tentative. But as the seconds stretched, it deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his chest against yours, the rise and fall of his breath matching your own.

The world outside seemed to vanish. The only thing that mattered was the press of his lips against yours, the way his fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending sparks of electricity through your body. His touch was gentle at first, but as you shifted against him, something shifted in the air between you—a quiet hunger that neither of you could deny any longer.

"George," you whispered against his lips, a soft plea, and it was all it took. His hands moved to your face, cupping it as he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if he was losing himself to the moment.

You felt the intensity rise in him, in the way his hands wandered to the back of your neck, tugging gently, pulling you even closer. The taste of the wine mixed with the warmth of his mouth, and you could no longer tell where you ended and he began.

"Are you really sure?" he asked again, his voice rough with desire.

"Yes. I want this."

With that, the dam broke. His lips trailed down your jaw, your neck, leaving a fiery path behind. You shivered at the feeling, the electricity between you both undeniable. Each kiss, each touch, built the tension higher, and soon, it felt like the only thing you needed was him.

The wine seemed to fuel your courage as much as it fueled your desire, and soon you were both lost in the moment, not thinking about anything but the way your bodies responded to each other. His hands roamed freely, each touch sending your pulse racing, while you met him with equal eagerness, your fingers tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

As things heated up, you both moved to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. George's eyes roamed over you appreciatively as you lay back on the bed. He joined you, his warm body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another passionate kiss. His hands explored your curves, teasing and caressing. You arched into his touch, wanting more.

George trailed kisses down your neck and chest, taking his time to savor every inch of you. When his mouth found your breast, you gasped in pleasure. His tongue swirled around your nipple as his hand kneaded your other breast. The dual sensations sent waves of arousal through you.

You ran your fingers through his hair, urging him lower. He obliged, kissing down your stomach until he settled between your thighs. The first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive flesh had you moaning. He explored you thoroughly

George's lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your inner thighs. His warm breath against your sensitive skin made you shiver with anticipation. When his tongue finally made contact with your center, you gasped at the sensation. He started with slow, teasing licks before focusing his attention on your most sensitive spots.

As George's ministrations intensified, you felt waves of pleasure building inside you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your hips rocked against his mouth. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in a come hither motion that had you seeing stars. Thel stimulation quickly pushed you over the edge into a powerful climax that left you breathless.

Before you could fully recover, George was kissing his way back up your body. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roamed over George's muscular back as he settled between your thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, igniting a fresh wave of desire. George gazed into your eyes, seeking silent permission. You nodded, pulling him closer.

He entered you slowly, both of you gasping at the exquisite sensation of finally being joined. George stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Then he began to move, setting a slow pace that had you arching beneath him.

Your bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, finding a rhythm that built the pleasure higher and higher. George's lips found yours in a searing kiss as he quickened his thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle and causing you both to cry out.

The room filled with the sounds of your shared passion - soft moans, gasps of pleasure, skin sliding against skin. The walls seemed to disappear, as if they were the only two people in the world. George's hips moved faster, his thrusts deep and primal, as if he couldn't get enough of her. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, urging her on.

You met his gaze, your breath ragged and your chest heaving. "George... I... I'm..."

He kissed you again, hard and desperate, silencing your words as he drove himself deeper inside you. "I've got you," he murmured against your lips. "Let go."

That was all the encouragement you needed. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. The intensity of your climax sent shockwaves through your body, your inner muscles clenching around George rhythmically. He groaned at the sensation, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a few final deep thrusts, George let out a guttural moan as he found his peak, trembling above you.

You both lay there panting, bodies intertwined and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. George's weight on top of you felt comforting rather than stifling. Sliding out, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead tenderly before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

"That was..." he trailed off, seeming at a loss for words.

"Yeah," you agreed breathlessly. "It really was."

George rolled to the side, pulling you close against him. You nestled into the crook of his arm, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. A comfortable silence fell between you as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

George's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, sending pleasant tingles through your body. You tilted your head up to look at him, taking in his tousled hair and flushed cheeks. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and contentment.

You both lay there for a moment, just breathing, both aware of the shift that had happened—of the line you had just crossed, and the new, thrilling tension that hung in the air. Neither of you spoke for a long time, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy.

"Well," he said, voice thick, "that… wasn’t how I expected the night to go."

You chuckled softly, catching your breath. "Yeah, me neither. But…"

"But?" he prompted, his eyes locking with yours, intense and filled with something new.

"But, maybe we should just go with it?"

He smiled at you, his lips curving mischievously. But when George finally broke the brief silence, it was with a soft chuckle.

"So… tomorrow," he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "I guess we're going on that Valentine's date after all."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. "I guess we are," you replied with a smile, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft and full of a warmth that made your heart flutter. As his eyes met yours, you knew that everything had changed.

Outside, the night continued on, unaware of the transformation happening within the walls of your flat. But inside, on this unexpected Valentine's Day, you found yourself celebrating not just the day itself, but the beginning of something new and exciting. As you snuggled closer to him, your head finding its now familiar spot on his shoulder, you both agreed to take a leap into the unknown together. This was more than just a date on the calendar - it was a promise for the future.

Valentine's Day was no longer a dreaded reminder of what you lacked, but a joyous celebration of what could be.

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

"Okay, recap moment," you began, sitting at a table in the café with Rick, Folio, and Grace, the sun beginning to set outside and filling the room with hues of red and orange.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, he’s wanted to win you back," Rick explained again after taking a slow sip from his coffee, his voice tinged with guilt. "And he asked for my help, because apparently I’m his only friend."

"So, the psycho has been trying to get your attention all this time," Folio interjected, "and when Noah left for a couple of days, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something that would drive a wedge between you two."

"So, he had you leave him," you pointed to Rick, "in front of Noah’s house after he got drunk, knowing that the next morning, Noah would find him there and think I'd cheated on him."

Rick lowered his eyes, unable to meet your gaze. "Yeah... that was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew Noah would be hurt, and he knew that would push him away from you."

"Noah didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because he thought what happened with Hannah was about to happen again. And now, he feels awful because he thinks it's his fault—like he can’t keep someone who loves him around," Folio continued.

"And you feel guilty because if you had realized Jason’s intentions sooner, maybe you could have stopped this from happening," Rick added, concluding the chain of events.

"Wow," Grace remarked. "I still have so many questions."

"Yeah, me too," Rick agreed. "Like, why are you even still here? You had nothing to do with any of this."

"Hey! I work here too, okay?" Grace shot back. "I have every right to stay as long as I want."

“So,” you turned to Folio, disregarding the bickering between the punk guy and your friend, or whoever Grace was to you, “what do you think I should do?”

"Go to him," Folio urged. "Talk things through. Please. I can’t keep watching him like this. I don’t think he’s showered in two weeks."

Grace wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "If I hadn’t helped Jason, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, that’s how things played out," you replied. "And there’s no turning back."

"But things can still be fixed if you both put aside your fears and have a real conversation," Grace encouraged.

Folio leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. "Exactly. It might not be easy, but if you want to fix things, this is where it starts."

"I’m not sure he wants to talk to me," you said, your voice uncertain as you stared down at the table, trying to sort through your swirling thoughts.

Grace looked at you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward onto the table. "We know he loves you, and you love him. And it’s so obvious you both are suffering now! If you go to him and tell him everything was part of Jason’s plan, and that his weird friend here explained how things really went down, he’ll listen. I promise you!"

Rick shook his head, smirking but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Hey, weird friend to who, Barbie with black hair?"

Grace just rolled her eyes.

Folio sighed, but his voice grew more serious. "Look, trust me. Go to him, tomorrow. It’s been two weeks, and he’s starting to realize he let you go just because he was too scared. You can’t just sit around waiting for him to make the first move because he won't. He's in a depressive mood right now."

A silence fell for a moment as you thought about their words. Folio's eyes were sincere, and for a brief second, it felt like there was still a chance to fix things. You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling over you.

Finally, you nodded. "Okay," you said softly, "I’ll do it."

After Grace and Folio left, you and Rick stood outside the café, the cool evening air pressing against you as the sunset faded into the night. The streets were quieter now, the hum of the city barely reaching you.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. "I… I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I know you probably hate me right now for helping Jason, for being his friend. I know what I did was wrong. But he was the only friend I ever had, you know? And I just... I always did what he asked, because I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I kept helping him, I’d prove I was a good friend. But looking at it now, I see I was just blinded by that need to belong. I'm so fucking stupid."

You were silent for a moment, taking in what he said. It didn’t make you angry. Instead, a sense of understanding washed over you. You shook your head gently. "I’m not mad at you, Rick," you said softly. "I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just... you need better friends. Friends who aren’t going to pull you into things like this. Friends who won’t take advantage of your loyalty."

Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted, but there was still a trace of guilt on his face. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he muttered.

"You don’t have to deserve it," you replied with a small smile. "People make mistakes. What matters is what we do after." You paused for a moment, thinking carefully about the next words you wanted to say. "You can come see me, us, at the café anytime. If you ever need to talk, or just... hang out. I'm sure Noah would like you too, you know? You punched Jason, after all."

He looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, as if your words were a relief he hadn’t expected. "Thanks. Really. I know I messed up, but I’m done following Jason. I’ve made my choice."

You nodded. "I’m glad to hear that."

Rick smiled, though it was a little uncertain at first. "I’ll come by sometime."

As you both turned to leave, you gave Rick one last look. "Thanks again, Rick. Take care."

And with that, you parted ways, but not with the same weight on your shoulders you had carried earlier. Things could get better—for both of you.

Noah sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, trying his best to smile as he tickled Luna, her giggles filling the air. It was a soft sound, the kind of laughter that once brought him a sense of peace, but now it felt like a distant memory.

He tried to focus on her, on her innocent joy, but the weight of everything pressing on him still felt unbearable. He could hardly summon the energy to keep up with her playful energy.

"Daddy! Knights don’t tickle princesses!” she said, holding up a finger as if to emphasize her point as she laughed.

"Oh really? So why am I doing that now?"

"Because you are a bad knight, daddy!"

Noah let go and finally dropped his hands to his sides, letting the kid breathe.

Luna, her tiny hands gripping his arm as she attempted to climb onto his lap, paused for a moment and looked at him with her big, innocent eyes. She tilted her head to one side, sensing that something was off. "Daddy," she said in her small, soft voice, "will Y/N come today?"

The question hit Noah like a punch to the stomach. He froze for a second, trying to think, his chest tightening as his mind raced for an answer. How could he explain this to her? How could he possibly tell his three-year-old daughter that the woman who had been a constant presence in their lives, the woman he had loved, was gone and might never return?

He forced a smile as he moved some strands of hair from her little chubby face, but it felt hollow. "No, sweetie," he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. "Y/N won't be coming here for a while."

Luna’s face fell for a moment, and Noah’s heart twisted at the sight. She didn’t understand, not fully. But she could already feel the absence. She blinked and then asked, her voice so innocent and hopeful, "Oh, is she on vacation?"

Noah nodded slowly, trying to hold it together. He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "She’s on vacation."

Luna seemed to accept that answer, her small face brightening again, and Noah couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was he lying to her? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Oh,” Luna said, her voice soft and wistful. “I wish I could go with her. I want to see the mountains with Y/N.”

Noah’s heart broke a little more as she spoke, the simple, innocent wish from his daughter ringing in his ears.

He looked down at her, her eyes filled with that pure, untainted hope, and he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wished things were different, wished he could turn back time and make the mess he had created disappear. But all he could do now was nod, his voice filled with emotion as he replied, “Yeah… me too.”

His gaze fell on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet Luna had made with you. She seemed so happy when she gave it to him, saying that you and she had one similar too that Noah couldn't say no. He wondered where you put yours. If it was lying forgotten at the bottom of a trash can or if he was on your wrist too and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking about you looking at it.

The pink was an extreme contrast to his tattoos in a way that made him smile and made his skin burn at the same time.

Luna didn’t seem to sense the weight of his words. Instead, she smiled brightly, her small hands gripping his shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. “Maybe when Y/N comes back, we can all go to the mountains together, Daddy. And see bears.”

Noah’s throat tightened, and he could barely choke out a laugh. "Maybe," he said quietly, his voice breaking just a little. “Maybe we can.”

That late evening, you were at home, the wind outside picking up, howling against the windows.

But then, through the noise, you heard something else—faint, almost drowned out by the gusts of wind. It was a soft whimpering sound. You froze, wondering if you’d imagined it. Another sound followed, louder this time, and it was unmistakable.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart racing. Was someone out there? You opened the door cautiously. The wind whipped around you, but you could make out something small huddling near the porch steps.

A tiny, scruffy ball of fur, sat there looking up at you. You bent down, your breath catching in your throat. A small puppy—probably only a few months old—was staring up at you with big, wide eyes, the color of dark amber. The fur on its body was matted and dirty, but you could tell that, despite its appearance, it wasn’t in horrible condition. It was skinny, too, ribs showing a bit too much through its dirty fur but it didn’t seem too malnourished.

You crouched down, reaching out cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey there, little one… where did you come from?” The puppy didn’t flinch, but tilted its head at you, studying you curiously, its little tail flicking.

“Do you have a home?” you asked again, more gently this time, hoping it could understand. It just stared at you, unblinking, before it started to shuffle forward, its paws making soft noises on the porch.

“Well, I guess you don’t have a place to go, do you?” you sighed, your heart already melting at the sight of the poor thing. The puppy continued its advance, slowly squeezing between your legs and making its way into the house. You blinked, surprised, but then a soft laugh escaped you.

“Okay, I guess you've already decided where you're going to stay,” you said with a smile, closing the door behind you. You watched the little creature wander inside.

You paused for a moment, your mind spinning with what to do next. You glanced around the small space, eyes landing on the kitchen. Your fridge. Maybe there was something you could feed it.

Opening the fridge, you found some leftover chicken, cooked and ready to go. Without hesitation, you grabbed it, placing it down on a plate for the pup. You watched as the little dog immediately pounced on the food, devouring it in a matter of seconds, the sound of its chewing filling in the silence of the house.

As the dog finished, you crouched down beside it, rubbing its back, and you finally understood the puppy was a male. “What now, little one? You just going to stay here with me?” you asked, your voice soft.

The dog responded with a loud, excited bark, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped up in front of you, as if to say “Yes, please!”

You chuckled lightly. “Guess that’s a yes,” you smiled, patting the puppy’s head.

“Alright then, you can stay with me for now.”

Without thinking twice, you picked the little thing up, holding him carefully in your arms as you carried him toward the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water, and carefully set the puppy down.

You took your time, softly scrubbing the dirt out of his brown and black fur.

Just as you were finishing up, the puppy suddenly shook his body, spraying water everywhere. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the tiny creature soaking your clothes and the bathroom floor, but you didn’t mind. The laugh felt good, like a release, like a bit of normalcy in the chaos that had surrounded you lately.

“You really know how to make a mess, huh?” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand as the dog looked up at you, his fur dripping wet and his expression utterly adorable.

After a few more moments, you helped the puppy out of the tub and wrapped it in a towel, rubbing it gently to dry it off. He seemed to enjoy the attention, snuggling into the towel as if it had finally found a safe place. You sat on the floor with him for some moments.

Then, you looked down at the tiny creature, now dry and warm, curled up on the towel beside you, his little eyes closing in contentment. “You're a good boy,” you said softly, smiling as the puppy let out a quiet yawn.

That night, he whined until you picked him up and let him sleep in the bed with you, his body pressed close to yours, keeping you almost as warm as Noah's had.

The next morning, before going to the café, you left enough food and water around for the dog before heading out, promising to think of a suitable name for him.

When you were at work, it had started raining, and when you stepped out of the coffee shop during the afternoon, it hadn't stopped yet.

The cold rain immediately soaked through your clothes as you reached your car.

The city streets were slick with water, and the dull hum of distant thunder echoed in the sky, but you barely noticed. Your mind was consumed with the need to reach Noah. You had to. You had already waited too much.

You got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Nothing. You tried again. And again. The engine sputtered but refused to start, the engine light flashing mockingly at you in the dark interior. Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath and tried once more, but the car just refused to cooperate. It was as if the universe itself had decided that this was not the night for you to see Noah, that fate was conspiring against you, and all the progress you'd just made would come crashing down.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, staring helplessly at the wheel. Frustration surged inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. The rain was pouring harder now, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

But then, in that moment of frustration, something shifted inside you. You wiped your damp face with the back of your hand and exhaled, steadying yourself. This wasn’t the end, not yet. You weren’t going to give up this easily.

Noah was waiting for you. Even if maybe he didn’t know that. You couldn’t afford to let something as trivial as a car breaking down stop you.

"Fine," you whispered to yourself, the determination in your voice solidifying. "I’ll walk."

Without another thought, you opened the door, slammed it shut, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. The streets blurred with each step you took, your soaked clothes clinging to you as you began your journey toward Noah, your mind set on one thing: You needed to see him.

The rain was hitting the ground in heavy, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets into rivers when you reached Noah's house. The sound of it pounded against your ears, drowning out everything else. You stood there, drenched to the bone, the cold water soaking through your coat and clothes, your hair was wet, dripping down and sending a chill through your neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Noah.

Nothing mattered except Noah.

The cold air pressed against your skin, your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts spinning.

You reached the front door, the familiar house looming before you, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not when everything had been shattered, and the quiet that hung between you two was almost suffocating.

Finally, you pressed the doorbell, the sound of it echoing louder in the still night than you had anticipated. The seconds felt like hours, and then, the door creaked open.

There he was, standing in the doorway, but he wasn’t the same Noah. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his face was drawn. The person you had known—the one who laughed with you late at night, the one who made you feel safe—felt distant now, a ghost of the man you had loved.

He looked at you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as the rain kept pouring all around you. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even move. You couldn't read him, it was like he was trying to keep you at arm’s length, afraid that if you got too close, you might shatter him further.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. What could you even say? How could you explain what had happened, explain how everything had fallen apart because of one man's manipulation? You knew this was your fault, too.

“Noah,” you said, voice shaky as you finally met his gaze. “I... I need to talk to you. Please.”

His expression remained overall hard, a wall that you couldn’t break through, not yet. He looked down for a moment, his jaw tightening, as if he was fighting the urge to turn away from you.

But when he looked at you, his eyes were soft, as if despite everything he couldn't look at you with anger.

"What?" he muttered, his voice strained, as if a single word was causing him physical pain.

You took a deep breath.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, I—I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it. I thought that chapter was closed, that he was a thing of the past, that I was done with him. And I was. Because I love you and I'll always love you and only you. But he wasn’t done with me. I should’ve known. And I... I was too fucking stupid to realize he never wanted to let me go. Not really. He wanted to win me back, to tear us apart, and I was blind to it."

He just stared at you, so you kept talking. Seeing him like that was absolutely breaking you.

"He asked Rick for help, a friend of his that understood he was doing something wrong and talked to me. And Rick, he... he just wanted to be a good friend. He didn’t understand. But Jason—he used Rick, manipulated him, got him to leave him drunk in front of your house, knowing that I would let him in because I am too fucking srupid and too fucking nice. He knew that you’d think I cheated on you. Knowing that you’d be hurt, that you'd doubt me, that it would rip us apart. He had everything planned. And I—I let it happen. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, until I saw the way you looked at me like I let you down like your ex. And I've never wanted that.

And now... now I’m standing here, soaked to the skin because I always forget to bring an umbrella with me and because I care about you, trying to find the right words, but there’s no easy way to explain this. No way to take back the pain I caused you. No way to undo what Jason did. But I need you to know this... I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone.

And I’m so fucking sorry for the mess I’ve made and for letting Jason ruin everything. I’m so sorry I didn’t see what Jason was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was losing you, that I was pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.

I love you more than I ever knew how to say. I love you more than anything. And I need you to know that, to believe that, because it’s the truth. You’re the only thing that matters to me and I miss you. And I miss Luna. And I miss the family we built. The three of us. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me... I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. But please, Noah, don’t let me lose you. Not like this. Not because of an asshole who thought he had power on someone else's love."

After you finished confessing, Noah looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern for a moment, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickered over your drenched form. "Why are you completely soaked?"

You couldn't help but smile softly, a little amusement tugging at the corner of your lips, despite the moment. "My car wouldn’t start," you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, almost as if it was a silly inconvenience. "So I walked."

Before you could say anything more, Noah’s expression softened even more, and without another word, he stepped forward in the rain. His lips found yours with a sudden intensity, and it was like everything else melted away. You smiled against his mouth, the taste of him so sweet, so right, that it felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

You had longed for the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his tongue dancing with yours, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around you for days.

His hair clung to his forehead as the rain soaked him through, and without thinking, you reached up to brush it aside, your fingers grazing the damp strands as you continued to kiss him, your hearts racing in sync. It was perfect. It was real. The kiss lingered, deepening, as if neither of you wanted it to end, until the air between you both ran out and you both pulled back, gasping for breath.

Noah’s hands were still on your hips, pushing you close to him.

His voice was low and vulnerable as he whispered against your lips, "I’ve dreamed of this moment for fifteen nights. I thought you hated me..I'm sorry I told you to leave. I was scared to lose you and so fucking jealous. I've never wanted you to leave. I love you.

I loved you from the first moment I walked into the café with Luna barely able to speak, when she raised her little hand to say hi. She didn't do it with anyone. But she did it with you. Maybe she also understood at that moment that you were going to be the most important person in both our lives."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth flooding back into your chest at the sound of his words. "I’ve walked in the rain for forty minutes for you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of certainty. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all."

He chuckled, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm blanket. God, you'd missed that sound so bad. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all either," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips, and then he kissed you again, softer this time, as if savoring every second, every drop of rain falling around you both.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[so-i-did-this-thing]

im sorry this might not be the place to ask for advice/help but im doomscrolling about the news and the soon to be president and im seeing so much to be scared shitless about, invasions, removal of vaccines, cost of living increases, revoking of trans rights and how it might make it all the more impossible to get the surgeries i wanted... its just too fucking scary to breathe right now what do i do with myself

Hey, Anon. I'm here. A lot of us are here right with you.

It's scary, to be sure. And I'm not going to sugarcoat the possibilities of things going south very quickly. So, let's jump into some survival tactics.

This post on burnout is a great place to start. There is a lot of overlap with burnout and the anxiety you're feeling.

Allow yourself to slow down and unplug. You are allowed to step away from the news cycle -- events out of your control will unfold regardless.

Don't feel guilty by letting yourself relax. I find it especially helpful to do activities that don't involve the internet -- I've been decorating my house, mending broken crockery, and sketching some embroidery ideas. I try to take the time to get dressed and groomed every day, to remind myself that I matter. I spend more time outdoors.

As you find the ability to relax, you'll be able to focus better on the things you can do to be resilient. Things I have been doing to improve myself and make me a better helper:

Staying on top of my medical appointments and any preventive care I can do

Working to be physically healthier overall to mitigate future medical issues

Getting all my paperwork in order, including passports

Tweaking my financial budget

Researching what estate & family documentation needs to be done to protect my relationship in case my marriage gets dissolved

Brushing up on job skills, getting new certifications to stay competitively employable

Stocking up on my medical and general emergency supplies, especially for bad weather events

Getting in the habit of mindful purchases, curbing my habit of impulse shopping

Selling things I don't want or need anymore to have a little extra money and be able to move house easier, if need be

Building a habit of fixing/maintaining my possessions instead of trashing broken things

Canceling online subscriptions and quitting social networks that make me feel in danger

Getting my personal and any queer-related files out of the cloud and onto redundant solid state drives

Downloading / printing out queer resources and buying queer art that may be banned or monitored in the future

Enjoying physical media again and hunting for old favorites

Keeping in touch with queer friends and allies and making plans in case people (even myself) need to flee

Being visible when I can and knowing when it's best to lay low

Allowing myself the luxury to dig into things Old Me would have saved for "special" events -- aka, wearing the nice clothes and eating off the fine china as an everyday thing

Shutting the fuck up, especially online, when I think my words could be used against me

In a way, I am trying to simply become a better version of myself, one who is calm & self-sufficient, mindful about his actions, and available to help those in need. It sucks that the driving factor is fear, but I intend to use that fear as a catalyst to be stronger and survive.

There is a lot to be done, but there was always going to be work, new regime or not. But please, start with that burnout article so you can jump into your own plans with new hope and energy. ❤️

[eunandonly]

why’d you only call me when you’re high? ( 이희승 )

you keep telling yourself you’re done with heeseung and his late night calls, but the door’s still unlocked. it’s the same cycle: him showing up, you giving in, and both pretending it means something.

pairing: heeseung x fem. reader [ masterlist ]

warnings: toxicity, alcohol mentions, drug mentions (weed), heeseung is high, heeseung is an asshole, kissing, skinship, angst, reader is lowkey kind of dumb

word count: 1.3k

🖇️ : a bit different than the stuff i usually post but yeah

you stare down at the message on your phone, the screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your living room. the words blur slightly, not because you're crying- no, you're well past that- but your tired eyes can't believe this is happening again.

heeseung: you up?

three words. simple and deliberate. always arriving at the same time. they're heeseung's signature, a routine written into your life against your will. you don't need to ask why he's texting you now, hours past midnight when everyone is asleep and the streets empty and bare. the answer is always the same. he's either drunk, high, or both. and he wants you to be the soft landing he definitely doesn't deserve.

your fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant and unsure. it always goes like this. you know fully well that if you reply, you'll end up letting him step into your home in hopes of something. and you know fully well that when you wake up tomorrow morning, he'll be long gone. bed empty, leaving you to piece together the wreckage he never stays long enough to clean.

your phone vibrates suddenly in your hand, heeseung's number popping up on the screen. he's calling you, and all you can do is stare at the green and red buttons in surprise. it only occurs to you know that you still haven't deleted his contact after countless times of telling yourself you would.

you don't even know why you're surprised that he’s calling. when the liquor burns and the smoke clouds his mind, you're the only number heeseung remembers.

with trembling fingers, you click the green button. you click the green button even though you know you'll regret it later. you click the green button just like you did a hundred times before because as much as you hate to admit it, you can never ignore him.

you never learn, do you?

"y/n," heeseung's voice says from the phone, and you lean back on the sofa, holding your breath. his words are slurred and delayed, his speech fragmented and disjointed. "can i come over?"

you let out the breath you've been holding and grip the phone tighter in your hand. "heeseung... are you- are you high?"

there's a pause before heeseung speaks again. perhaps he's taking a drag from his joint. chugging down some liquor. "no, no, i'm not. i swear i'm not. i swear."

"you are," you say, dragging a hand down your face. you shouldn't have picked up. you shouldn't have. you should've let it ring out, or even better, decline it. delete his contact for real this time. but you still answered, foolishly hoping that things will be different this time. that he'll be different this time.

it always comes down to hope with you, doesn't it?

"i miss you," heeseung drawls. "i want you so bad, baby."

you squeeze your eyes shut, a thousand thoughts crossing your mind. he doesn't want you, not really- only the fleeting comfort you offer when he's high and hollow.

"the door's unlocked."

***

it was a mistake to invite him.

you should lock the door. turn off your phone, climb into bed, and let heeseung knock until his knuckles bruise blue and purple. but you don't. instead, you stand there, in front of the empty door, waiting for the sound of his unsteady footsteps climbing up the stairs. the familiar click of the door opening. heeseung still knows the password to your home, and even though you know you should change it, you never do. you blame it on forgetfulness and laziness and come up with all sorts of excuses to calm down the erratic thoughts in your brain. gaslighting yourself that there really is no bigger reason as to why the set of numbers still remain untouched.

but no matter how many times you try to deny it, you know fully well what the reason is.

when the door opens, you take a step back as you stare. heeseung's hair is messy, his shirt wrinkled and his eyes glassy with desperation your naive self had once thought could fix. his lips twitch into a sort of half smile when he sees you.

"y/n," he says, kicking off his shoes and walking over to you like he owns the place. he towers over you, smiling down at you with a strange, twisted expression you can't really comprehend. you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed from him, a confirmation you didn't really need. you knew from the message. you knew.

before you can say a word, heeseung steps forward and pushes you against the wall, hands on your waist, firm and unrelenting, and the dull thud of your head meeting the surface that only seems to surprise you. you barely have the time to register the discomfort before his lips crash onto yours. messy, almost desperate, and the taste of alcohol and smoke floods your senses, bitter and suffocating.

you know you should push him away- your mind screams it over and over. but your body betrays you, frozen in place. his lips press harder against yours as if he's trying to erase the memories he left last time, and you let him. you let him because, for a fleeting moment, the weight of your loneliness feels lighter.

your hands hover uncertainly over his shoulders, slightly shaking. you don't want to pull him closer, but you can't seem to let go either. when your fingers finally make contact with the warmth of his skin, it's tentative, almost apologetic. you grip tightens as you kiss him back, as if holding him will keep him from slipping away again. but deep down, you know it won't. you know how this ends.

but ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

you pull away for a few seconds to look at heeseung's eyes, bloodshot and glazed over.

"why do you keep doing this, hee?"

hee. you don't try to mask the way the nickname slipped out of your mouth like second nature. heeseung's probably noticed it too. you can tell, from the way the corners of his lips quirk up.

he doesn't answer right away. he kisses your lips again, one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your head.

"because you let me."

the words feel like a punch to the gut, but you don't flinch. he's not wrong. he's never been wrong about that.

you should kick him out. lock the door. delete his number.

but tonight, you'll let him stay. just one more time.

[jadeleechwife]

Hii!

Could I request platonic Boothill, Gallagher, Sunday and Blade with a teen reader that kind of just stuck to them because they have no parents?

(idk if I can request platonic hcs, pls lmk if not <33)

hello!! thanks for your request, I hope you like it!! <33 and it's fine really, I also enjoy platonic hcs. sorry for the bad grammar

Boothill

- When Boothill found you, you were heavily injured, bleeding. Alongside you, there were two adult figures, both lifeless.

- Boothill was in the middle of a mission that just happens to be in a place that was recently attacked by Anti-matter Legion. He couldn't help but notice your figure, somehow still alive.

- He took you with him to treat your injuries. When you woke up, you were scared, noticing to be in a place that isn't your home, your parents missing and with a cowboy cyborg man watching you.

- You asked where your parents were, but Boothill just sighed, admitting that they won't be with you so soon.

- You got the message and immediately started crying in pure despair, you were alone. Alone in this world with nobody to lend you a hand.

- Boothill could only remember his time when he lost everything, when he lost his kid and family. He felt the closest feeling to what should be an ache to his chest, and suggested that if you wanted to, you could stay with him. He knew he was being impulsive, as a teen living with him could only mean putting them in danger, but he could never let someone who desperately needs help like you to be left behind.

- You were wary about his request at first, but you didn't see any options beside accepting it, as you had nowhere to go.

- And so Boothill became your reference.

- To ensure your safety, he taught you how to handle guns, how to aim in the right spots to take your enemy down, and practiced your reflexes so you wouldn't be easily hit.

- His trainings were all strict, but it was all to keep you safe. He always tried to cheer you up with jokes and reassured you when you weren't doing well in your practices.

- Even after so many training, he still would be really protective of you, being able to beat his targets while also looking after your safety

- "Don'tcha worry kid, while you're with me, no one's gonna hurt ya." - He winked while you both were preparing yourselves to another mission.

Bonus: On your birthday, Boothill would gift you a similar hat that he is using to you, after all you were teammates now, right?

Gallagher

- Gallagher found you by pure chance while strolling the streets.

- He saw a teenager sneaking through a store and and carefully putting something in their pocket while leaving.

- He follows you and eventually corners you to ask you questions.

- You explained that you are only doing that for survival. Your parents sacrificed themselves to keep you safe from an unknown attack, making you completely alone.

- Gallagher listened carefully and couldn't help but also somehow identify himself with you in his darker times, completely lost, without a place to go.

- He told you to bare with him a bit and follow, while he has an idea.

- After a long discussion with the Bloodhound Family, they allowed Gallagher to watch over you with the condition that you don't interfere in any of their duties.

- You were truly surprised at first, as Gallagher didn't miss a beat to somehow take care of you. As much you were suspicious about second intentions, you rather try and see if that was a trap instead of refusing and choose to live only by surviving.

- He said you both will be living by an accord: he would take care of you and guarantee a better life, while you promise to never cause any sort of trouble again and also giving back the thing you stole it. For you, it was a win-win situation, so you had no complains.

- Gallagher was a mysterious man to you, full of secrets, always with a tired look. But even so, he was always ready to teach you many things and tips so you can grown up and be a wise adult.

- Also, in any case of potential danger, he was always prepared to keep you safe, hiding you in perfect spots, or keeping you behind him while he takes care of the threat. He was a silent but caring parental figure to you.

- "I didn't have much opportunities to have someone to guide me to be a better person. I don't want you to be like me, kid. I want you to be whoever you want, and better." - He said one day while sipping a drink he prepared and you also drinking a juice he made.

- You didn't get much of what he said, but you knew he was always trying to teach you only the best. He was hiding a lot and you knew it, but you believed it was for your own good.

Bonus: He teaches you the basic of mixing drinks and sometimes you both have nights where you can experiment combinations of drinks all you like! He always drinks everything you create even when the taste is questionable.

Sunday

- Sunday and the Astral Express decided to relax a bit at a nearby stop when he found you.

- You were wandering, with a hollowing look in your eyes, seeming completely lost.

- He decided to approach you, asking if you were okay and where your parents were.

- "I lost my parents. I lost everything. All it remains is.... void. Nothing. I am nothing."

- Sunday eyes widened at the realization you were just a teenager, lost and unprotected making him remind of his sister, and his deep fear of losing her and let her all alone.

- He asked you to follow him and if you wanted to stay with him and his crew for a bit. You just shrugged off, "it's not like if it matters or not", you thought.

- The Astral Express welcomed you with open arms, touched by your situation, and told you can stay as much as you like until you find somewhere you can call a home.

- Even if the others were extremely kind to you, Sunday was the one approaching you the most, including you in every situation. He couldn't help but try to make you see him as an older brother figure to make you feel safer.

- It took a while for you to open up, but as Sunday keep tolding you his and the others stories, making sure you were always comfortable, and reassuring you to take your time to adapt to the new environment, you finally felt like everything is ok.

- As you discover that Sunday would be temporarily in the Astral Express, you insisted that you want to go with him when he finally finds his promised land. Sunday was surprised, specially because you called him big brother as you stated your wish.

- With a tender smile on his face, he promised he will always be with you, and you both will be searching for this land together.

- "Don't be scared little one, the future is uncertain, but as long we stick together, we don't have to fear anything."

Bonus: Sunday writes a letter to Robin saying he wants you both to meet each other, stating that the family got bigger. He cannot wait until the moment you three can be together.

Blade

- Him and the Stellaron Hunters were traveling around following Elio's script when they found you, almost on the verge of death.

- Kafka already knew it was part of the destiny to finding you, and asked Blade to handle the situation.

- He was confused at first, not knowing much what to do, but even so he scooped your fragile body onto his arms and took you alongside to the Stellaron Hunters.

- After some weeks you finally opened your eyes and saw Blade on your side. He told you he knew you would wake up today and was checking up how you were feeling.

- You said you were lost, and still feeling pain, but you remembered a strong man carrying you to safety. "It was you, right?" you asked.

- After you were completely recovered, Kafka always made sure you were always by Blade's side, making Blade teaching you the basic of self defense, even if against his will.

- Somehow, after passing so much time with Blade, you got attached to him, seeing as some sort of big brother figure. You wanted to follow his steps, be strong and relentless as him. You admired him.

- Blade, on the other side, tried to push you away as much as possible. Firstly because he thought you were a hassle to handle, but then he realized it was because he wanted to protect you. He was a monster, and that was no lie to him, and the last thing he wanted was ending up hurting you somehow.

- He didn't know how to handle you most of the times, as he was not used to deal with teenagers, but even that, he started to enjoying your company, even if never admitting that.

- "Listen kid, one day, when my journey reaches to an end, I am going to die. Don't think that as a bad thing. It's my most deserved rest. Until that day, I am going to make you stronger. You will never be like me, but take that as a blessing. You will continue your journey on your own, but this time, you won't need to be scared. Take the obstacles of your journey as challenges to reach your highest potential. Don't waste anything, got it?" He said that to you one day.

- Even if you were scared of losing someone you cared for again, you already understood everything he said. You smiled, and promised to be the strongest warrior someone ever seen.

Bonus: On the beginning of your training, Blade was teaching you how to reach for the enemies weak spot and made you stab him on his chest. You were terrified as seeing the sword crossing his body completely, your mind going blank. Blade couldn't help but laugh as he takes off the weapon watch your reaction as his body regenerates. It was the first time you thought he was super cool.

[billysgirllol]

“i think they can definitely tell, who’s a good person and who’s tryin’ to bring harm. animal’s are intuitive like that.” lucy gray reassures, smiling softly as her arm stays around her bent knees, her free arm tracing circles in the water. “oh…yeah?” brow lifting, looking over her shoulder at him before eyes glance back towards the water. shying up momentarily again. “of course not.” leave him as a single parent. a twitch of amusement pulling at her lips before softening at the thought, thinking how she can’t run. but even it she could, would she? not… exactly. not when she doesn’t have a gnawing fear in her chest yet towards him. just like the animals they speak of… if she doesn’t have a reason or sense a reason, she won’t leave. just like deer and birds, she too has those same instincts. “sort of. i mean, i can choose a favorite dessert. i can choose a favorite month. but i can’t choose a favorite color, animal or flower. all flowers, colors and animals make me happy. hard to choose just one.” a soft laugh emits, gently shrugging her thin shoulders. “what’s your favorite animal?” questioning before hearing the awful story of the man he knew and before too long her face is contorting into disgust and stomach churning, vomit reflexes on the rise when he starts saying thing about smells. “lord, then, i sure am lucky you found me in time. i might’ve suffered the same thing. that’s sickenin’, bless his poor soul havin’ to suffer all through that.” feeling sympathy and disgust, quickly trying to think of something else. she definitely doesn’t want to suffer like that and scared up to keep watching her wounds. “i hope not, i really like my hair. but then again… that’ll be my fault, maybe i’ll learn.” scolding herself— to at least brush her fingers through it and keep it from getting so matted. “it’d be devastatin’ cutting it off to my ears.” that gives her the notion to quickly start trying with her fingers to start pulling some knots out, feeling a little panicky on needing the answer if she’ll get to spare it or not. the rubs on her back feel so pleasant, too. the most soothing feeling she’s felt in awhile but she can’t exactly relax with her hair on the line.

“of course they will. if they know you’re helpin’ them, they’ll come along right to you.” and birds are intelligent, so they’ll know. “there is no such thing, but…” a tiny laugh sounds from her, glancing down at her water, swirling a finger around at trying to find the words to describe it. but she’s not used to it. “those are wonderful flowers to love. don’t ask me to choose a certain favorite, we’ll be here all day. there is somethin’ admirable about wild flowers though, you’re right.” a smile pulls on her face at his recognizing that. “thank you, tryin’ to be. i realize it’s still hurtin’ some but i guess that’s normal.” she figures, rubbing at her knee before glancing over at him, “oh, it’s alright darlin’. come on right over.” her legs are squished to her chest and while she’s a little shy and awkward about it, she’s not so shamefully shy she can’t grow bravery and accept she doesn’t care if he sees her bare back. “you can do both things if you’d like to.” now that she’s soaked in water, she guesses it’s not too embarrassing now that her hair is wet even if it’s in knots. “i’m just scared i won’t be able to get these knots out and i’ll have to cut it.” reaching back with an unpleasant look on her face, hand feeling the knots and worry spilling over her visage. almost puts tears in her eyes at how bad of shape she’s let her once beautiful hair get in. it reaches all the way down her back, like everyone in the covey, long hair is sacred. and at this point, she’s worrying she’ll lose the last thing that means a lot to her.

[sshadow-heartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

•Squid Game C.AI bots here!

🤍Cho Sang-Woo x Player!Reader

🤍With one more game to go, Sang-Woo doesn’t like your odds. He loves you enough to know that you don’t need to continue suffering, taking things into his own hands…

🤍Word Count: 1.2k

🤍Tags: Angst, Murder, Slight Gore?, Glass Shard as murder weapon, Stabbing,False Hope, Betrayal

•masterlist

‼️If you are sensitive to the tagged topics, please keep scrolling!‼️

It had been a long day. After a dangerous game of glass stepping stones, you had watched player after player fall to their death. Only three of you remained - Sang-Woo, Gi-Hun and yourself.

Retreating to your bed, you looked up at the ceiling, the large piggy bank sending a soft, golden glow over the room. It had to be almost over, right? There were only three of you left, surely there were no more than two games to go.

You sighed, thinking of everything you would be able to do once winning. Pay off your debts, get a drink with your friends…

Start over.

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, and you turn your gaze towards the sound. It was just Sang-Woo, you had grown to become fond of the man during your time. You had been apart of the same team, alongside Gi-Hun, Ali…

Painful memories crossed your mind, Ali was gone. He wasn’t coming back. You had to move on, no matter how tough it felt.

“Quiet in here, huh?” Sang-Woo’s voice speaks up, drawing you away from your own mind. He was stood above you, a few scrapes across his face from the glass tiles exploding. Dark eyes studied yours, his own expression unreadable. You could never tell what he was truly thinking.

“Yeah… it’s weird without everyone else here,” you shrug, the room holding a strange eeriness without the hundreds of players that once resided with you. “How many more games do you think there are?”

He stayed quiet, thinking. “One… maybe two? That’s my guess. Just a little longer and we’ll all be out of here and way richer than we ever were, too.”

You smiles, nodding at his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right,” you nod, patting the space on your bed for him to sit down.

Taking a seat, Sang-Woo keeps his hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to rest on your thigh. His thumb strokes your skin through the fabric of your pants, looking down at you with a slight hint of softness. “You’re coming for a drink with me and Gi-Hun, right? When we get out of here?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Settling into comfortable silence, you allow your eyes to slip closed. You could feel Sang-Woo’s hand on your thigh, a small comfort in such a place. The two of you had grown close rapidly, you admired him. He was smart, and confident and seemed to know what he was doing. All of that lured you in, made you desperate to win his affection. He had seen you during the dalgona round, working ever so calm despite the shootings around you. He knew you would fight to survive, and he wasn’t sure if he loved you for it, or hated it.

Sang-Woo looked down at you, eyes closed and breathing steady. He couldn’t work out if you were sleeping, though it’d be best if you were…

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Gi-Hun across the room, taking a much needed nap. He turned back to you, sliding his hand out of his pocket. He glanced down, eyeing the object he had been keeping so secretly.

A glass shard, sharp and easy enough to stab someone with. He took a breath, steadying himself and his nerves. Sang-Woo had decided you needed to go nights before, a long thought-out choice. He theorised the final game would be between the three of you, some sort of direct competition against each of you. Sang-Woo knew there could only be one winner, one player who takes the amount home.

You had become a distraction to him, his feelings overriding his logic. You were beautiful, strangely optimistic after what you had been through, and gosh, he… he loved you. He knew that if you faced against him, he would let you win. Let you walk away with the money, and a better life. No, he needed that money for himself. It’d be him and Gi-Hun. He could take down his childhood best friend, surely…

Sang-Woo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A sick and twisted act of love before enacting his wicked plan. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, smiling up at him as though he’s the most wonderful man in the world. He wasn’t, not that you needed to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, trying to make it easier. You wouldn’t struggle, or cry or yell. He didn’t want you to view him as a monster. In a way, he was doing something good for you. What if you suffered in the next game? What if you had to watch him die? No… that wouldn’t be an option for you. You’d have the peaceful way out, all thanks to him.

“Lay with me?” You ask, softly. It was such an innocent request, he couldn’t deny you. Laying down behind you, he wrapped an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he lied. “Nobody will hurt you.”

Both laying in silence, legs tangled together, Sang-Woo waited for you to begin drifting off. He had to wait for the right moment, he didn’t want you to fight him on this. You wouldn’t realise it was for the good of things. His mind replayed everything you had told him. You were in severe debt, over a million won. You had nobody out there, no family, no friends. Loan sharks were waiting to get you.

It was no life for anyone. Even if you paid off your debts, you’d still be alone. There was no way you’d all make it out alive. He knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He, on the other hand, had plenty to return to. He could get himself out of debt, though his reputation would still be ruined. He could give money to his mother, have enough to live comfortably. Yes, Sang-Woo knew he needed to survive. It’d be better for him than it would be for you.

He leaned down, face nuzzled against your neck. A final moment of comfort, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He had the glass shard ready and waited, concealed in his free hand. Gi-Hun was still sleeping, nobody paying close enough attention to him or to you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Before your half-asleep mind can process his words, Sang-Woo digs the glass shard into your stomach. He continues to hold you close, your blood pooling on the bed. He strokes your hair, whispering soft comforts to you.

“Shh, just let it happen. Its for the best, you’ll see that.”

You cough and choke, unable to say anything as the light drains from your eyes and blood pools into your mouth. You felt pain, and nothing more than that. A white, hot blinding pain as the room began to dim. You were tired, so… so tired. It’d feel so good to close your eyes right now.

As Sang-Woo felt you go limp in his arms, a small tune played over the speakers, a voice ringing out.

“Lights out! All players must return to their beds.”

As the lights shut off, Sang-Woo closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. One more game, he repeated in his mind. One more game…

[remedyturtles]

for the writing ask meme: disaster twins bc i am nothing if not predictable aaaaand ur pick of 8, 22, 29 or 42 if u would like :3

thank you my dearest russothy @rbtlvr for the prompt! this got away from me and also went in so many different directions lmao... snugs hope you like it :D

wordcount 2.7k, pre-series

22. "...you knew?"  29. "Tell me the truth."

"I've definitely got a unicorn horn." Leo said, holding up the puzzle piece. 

"Which one?" Donnie propped up the box lid. 

The two inspected, comparing the angle with the reference, covered in a multitude of unicorns.

"Hard to tell." Leo set the piece aside, with his other collection of possible key points. They'd only just finished the border, spread out the bedroom floor. They were twelve years old. They were both grounded. They were absolutely and intolerably bored. 

No TV. No phones. No lab time for Donnie, no skateboarding time for Leo. No amount of pleading with Raph or Mikey to smuggle them entertainment worked because they weren't happy either.

So it was the unicorn puzzle. And any other way they could pass the time. 

"It's your turn." Donnie said, flipping over a few middle pieces and sorting them into piles by colour. 

"Sure. Truth or dare." Leo plucked another horn-like piece with a pleased noise and tried to slot it with his first. It didn't fit. 

"Truth." Donnie said, after a moment.

"Wimp."

"I stand by my answer."

"Fine." Leo sighed, annoyed. "You're no fun. What is the last thing you looked up on the internet?"

"Pssh. Something absolutely genius, I'm sure." Donnie said. "But alas, we will never know, as I do not have my phone on me." 

"Hogwash." Leo said, mimicking his voice, "As if your eidetic memory doesn't know. I'm insulted on your own behalf that you would insinuate such a thing."

Donnie mentally ran back through his most recent searches and struggled not to cringe. A victorious smile spread over Leo's face, before he'd even said a word. 

"How'd you know it was going to be something stupid?" Donnie complained, ducking his head to pretend to sort his pieces more intently. 

Leo tapped his lip, milking his success. "Come on. You've got a thousand bookmarks on your computer for all your nerd stuff and overflowing shelves of paper books and manuals. If you need to Google something, then it's the bottom of the barrel questions." 

Donnie mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?" Leo leaned forward over the puzzle, grin growing to shit-eating.

"You heard me." Donnie's face flushed. 

"I'm not sure I did, because I'm pretty sure my genius prodigy Donatello knows exactly how many millimetres are in a centimetre." 

"I was just making sure!" Donnie complained loudly, snapping a hand out to push at Leo's face and shove him back to his side of the puzzle. "It's my turn now, shut up. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Leo answered, because he always said dare. 

"Shocker." Donnie deadpanned. "Fine. Eat a puzzle piece."

"Okay." Leo picked up the unicorn horn. Before Donnie could stop him, he placed the piece on his tongue, swallowed, and showed a decidedly empty mouth.

"Oh my stars, Leon, I didn't think you'd actually do it." Donnie said, stunned with the heights of his idiocy. 

"You dared me." Leo shrugged. "What did you expect?"

"We needed that!" 

"You cannot pretend this is my fault. You literally just told me to eat it." 

"I hate you. Alright, Curious George, it's your turn." 

Leo barked a laugh. He rearranged his collection of unicorn horn pieces, forever missing one now, and said, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Donnie wasn't a wimp. 

"Bet." Leo hopped up and immediately began digging in a drawer. "Close your eyes. Don't open them until I say so."

Instant regret. So much instant regret. Donnie didn't obey, tense all over, watching Leo with wariness. 

Leo found whatever he was looking for, keeping it behind his back when he turned around, and said, challenging, "Are you switching?"

If Donnie switched to truth, Leo would ask something really awful, and he'd have no choice but to answer as penalty. So Donnie scoffed, like that was a ridiculous question, and shut his eyes. 

Leo’s footsteps got closer and he sat in front of Donnie. He said, calm and mischievous, “I’m going to touch your face.”

With the warning, he didn’t flinch when Leo carefully removed his mask, placing it in Donnie’s hand. Then there was the sound of an uncapped pen, and a whiff of marker. 

“Hold still.” Leo said, fingers bracing Donnie’s head and setting the marker tip to his face, waiting a moment for him to adjust, then began to draw.

“Urgh.” Donnie said, holding still beyond his fingers fidgeting in his lap with the mask, eyes closed but recognizing the movement of the pen in two arcs over either eye. 

“There.” Leo said, removing the pen. “We match.”

Donnie opened his eyes to see Leo directly in front of him, something warm and fond before it eased back into gremlin mischief. “Feel beautiful?”

Donnie got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Dark red marker stripes were drawn carefully over his eyes, matching at the face grinning behind him. 

He rolled his eyes. He stomped over to the same drawer and said, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Leo said, already taking off his mask. 

Donnie found the black marker. “Close your eyes.”

Obediently, Leo shut his eyes, grinning too hard that it caused his forehead to wrinkle while Donnie moved his head around to get the perfect sharp and thick eyebrows. He put genuine effort into making them look good, because Leo had too. 

“Done.” Donnie said, releasing his hostage of Leo’s head.

Leo leapt up to the mirror and gave a wolf whistle. “Damn! That’s not bad.”

“I didn’t come here to fuck around.” Donnie replied. Looking at both of them in the mirror he wished he had his phone so he could get a picture. He flashed a peace sign anyway, like they were taking a selfie, and Leo automatically mimicked it. For a moment, he forgot the situation and grinned back at his twin through the mirror. 

Then he remembered why they were stuck in a room doing puzzles and dropped the peace sign, shuffling down to sort through the stacks. Leo watched him, the small frown made quite more serious by his impressive brows, then hopped over the half assembled puzzle to his side. “My turn?”

It was an invitation to stop, if Donnie wasn’t feeling it anymore. But it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. “Truth.”

"Do you regret it?" 

Donnie glared at him. 

Leo stared back at him, completely serious. 

"I'm switching. Dare." Donnie said. Whatever horrible thing Leo could concoct would be better than answering that. Even if it meant he had to do it, no matter what. 

"Fine." Leo shrugged. "I dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheating." Donnie lifted his lip in a sneer.

"Is it?" Leo challenged. There wasn't a specific rule against it. 

Donnie didn't answer him, turning to try and poke his various pieces together. Neither of them spoke for a while. The tense atmosphere reigned. 

"I regret that I got caught." Donnie said, eventually. "Which probably isn't what I'm supposed to feel." 

"So you'd do it again, if you felt you couldn't get caught?" Leo prompted, knuckles white in his lap. 

"Only one question. Your turn. Truth or dare." 

"Dare."

"I dare you to answer a truth." Donnie said, sharp. 

Leo's eyes narrowed. He couldn't claim it was cheating without being a hypocrite and he knew it. He rolled out a slow, "Fine. Ask."

"Why'd you take the fall with me?" Donnie was been dying to ask. Leo hadn't even known what Donnie was up to, and yet he stood in front of Dad and swore he'd been helping. 

Leo said, "Pssh, I thought you were gonna ask something hard. So you weren't grounded alone, obviously. And it'd be so boring if I couldn't hang out with you anyway. And so I could bug you about what the hell you were thinking. So. Truth or dare?"

Donnie would eat every piece of this puzzle if he didn't have to answer another truth. "Dare." 

"Wimp." Leo said, shark-grin. 

"Your standards for cowardice seem to change from moment to moment." Donnie said, mouth dry. 

Leo could easily pull the same move and insist he answer a truth, but with the tit-for-tat complete, to abuse the power would break the game. "It's fine. This one'll be real easy," his gaze hardened, "especially since it's what you should've been doing all along. I dare you to take me with you next time."

Donnie exhaled slowly through his nose, swallowing. He avoided Leo's eye, pretending he was super interested in placing his puzzle pieces. "Fine." 

"Promise?"

"Yeah, whatever."

He could feel Leo staring at the top of his head. He irritatedly poked a piece in place, the leg of a unicorn, and asked, "Truth or dare?"

"I'll do truth if you do." Leo bargained. 

A rare offer. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but take the bait. "Deal."

"Perfect. Hit me." 

Donnie could tell Leo was already formulating his next question. Unfortunately for him, Donnie got to ask first. "Tell me something you've never told anyone."

Leo grimaced. He didn’t answer for a long minute, eyes visibly ticking back and forth as he thought.  Then laughed, a little nervous, and said, "Alright. Okay." 

The nerves were interesting. Donnie poked, almost fascinated, "Scared?"

"No, I just –" Leo bit his lip and glanced up, fidgeting with a bunch of sky pieces. He was definitely nervous, breath quickening. "I've wanted to say, actually. So this seems as good a moment as any."

Oh, this was actually serious. Weird. Made weirder by the drawn-on brows. Donnie waited for more information before assuming anything. Leo delayed longer, killing time, and only to falter at Donnie's expression. 

"It's uh, not a big deal, but. I figured I should … tell you. That. I'm gay." Leo held his breath at the end of the sentence.

"Right." Donnie nodded. 

Leo blinked at him like an owl. "... you knew?"

"I… figured." Donnie evaluated the situation and determined a different reaction was needed, judging by the clear anxiety of Leo's face. This hadn't been what Donnie was expecting, because why would Leo be nervous about his reaction. "I did not consider it worth a second thought. You are my twin. There is nothing about you that I wouldn't accept without question."

"Oh. Okay." Leo inhaled shakily then let it out slowly. "Cool. That's cool. Don't tell anyone else yet, okay?"

"Like you even have to ask." Donnie scoffed. There was a code about these sorts of things, after all, twelve years in the making. He wasn't about to break their sacred bond now. "Do you need a hug?"

Leo crawled directly over the puzzle to climb into Donnie's arms. He squeezed so hard it squashed the air out of his lungs. He mumbled in Donnie's ear, "Thanks."

"I love you. If anyone has a problem with it, send them directly to me." Donnie's grip tightened to the point of Leo letting out an 'oof' too. 

"Love you too." Leo gave another squish then pulled back, a puzzle piece stuck to his bare leg. "Your turn."

"Now?" Donnie complained. "After we just had a moment?"

"And we're about to have another moment, bucko." Leo was close enough to poke Donnie directly in the plastron, pretending to be stern even as he was still a little shaky. "Your turn."

"Truth." Donnie sighed, fulfilling his end of the bargain. 

"Why'd you do it?" Leo asked, immediate. All young indignation, eyes shining with left-behind hurt, and a more incandescent worry that was mirrored in all the annoyed glares outside their door. 

“Scoff.” Donnie avoided his eye. “Surely you do not need to hold me at metaphorical gunpoint to ask that question when you already know the answer. I wanted uranium.”

"That's not why you did it." Leo said, expression all the more severe by the painted brows. He insistently poked Donnie in the middle of his plastron again. "I know you didn't want uranium just to have. There's always a purpose, a plan. Why?" 

"Multiple uses." Donnie said, tightly, through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter. No one wants me to have it because they think I'll give myself radiation poisoning. Because it'll put me on a watch list. Because when I tried to sneak out and meet up with a seller I got caught. So it doesn't matter, because obviously no one here is going to let me."

"You're right about that, because you will give yourself radiation poisoning and sneaking off when you're a twelve-year-old mutant to meet up with some sketchy seller was a terrible idea. That's still not what I'm asking. Why?" Leo said, because despite pretending for everyone else that he was in on it the whole time, he was actually just as opposed as the rest of them at his failed scheme.

Donnie physically pushed Leo away, since he was still so close. "It doesn't matter! Okay! I can't do it, so it doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me. Because I'm asking." Leo insisted, hands braced backwards onto the puzzle and separating out the few pieces they'd gotten together. "It's truth, you have to answer."

"I could switch to dare." Donnie said, annoyed.

"Then I'd dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheap and you know it."

Leo just stared at him, still leaning back and waiting. Completely dead set and expectant that Donnie would crack. 

"There's nothing more to say." Donnie said, swallowing and feeling how his throat was sore. "I have projects that only a radioactive isotope can satisfy."

"Okay?" Leo prompted. Waiting for the expected info-dump. 

"Why do you care?" Donnie snapped. "Weapons. Big, powerful weapons, that would obliterate anyone who dared mess with our family. And – a-and unlimited power. And heat. For our home. Okay? Are you happy? Because we don't to have those things anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Grim triumph washed over Leo's expression, and he leaned forward to ask, "Do you think we'd want that at the expense of your life?"

"I wasn't going to die!" Donnie exclaimed. "And if I have the power to make our lives better, safer, more efficient, shouldn't I take it? Shouldn't I push the laws of the universe to give us everything we deserve when we're trapped underground like rats?"

"That stuff is pretty important, but it's not more important than you." Leo said, slowly. 

Donnie smacked his hand against the floor and blurted, "That's what I'm good for, so yeah, it is!"

Leo's expression flashed and he gave a low growl. He lunged forward and caught Donnie in a roll, sending the two of them tussling into the dresser. A loud thud made the wall shake. Donnie kicked Leo in the shins. Leo elbowed Donnie in the solar plexus. 

"Boys!" Splinter knocked loudly on the door. "No killing each other!"

"Yes Dad!" Donnie and Leo recited together, stalled mid-fight, waiting for the footsteps to disappear before struggling apart.

"What was that for?" Donnie rubbed his plastron, scowling.

"For basing your self worth on what you provide for this family." Leo straight up threw puzzle pieces at him, scattering unicorn bits all over the carpet. "Don't be ridiculous. You're so much smarter than that. If we only let people in because they're useful then I woulda been kicked out years ago."

"That's not true." Donnie protested. 

"That's not the point." Leo rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter who's useful or not. You're one of us forever. No take backs. You don't have to superfit the lair with big weapons and make us completely self-sustaining or whatever. Dad only let you start doing upgrades because you were having fun. If you're doing it to earn your place here then I'll burn your lab down."

"It's fun." Donnie said, quickly, because Leo had an affection for fire that should not be tempted. "Fine. I hear you. I will be satisfied with projects that bring me joy and not radiation poisoning. Can we finish this puzzle or did you actually swallow that piece?"

Leo's severe expression melted, and he reached behind Donnie's non-existent ear and revealed the unicorn horn piece flipping over his knuckles. "Looks like you had it rattling around in your big head this whole time."

"Hah. Caught you." Donnie grinned. "If you cheated on that dare now you gotta do one that's twice as bad." 

Leo swore.

[toughtink]

regarding dandadan’s creepy aliens:

saw this screenshot floating around bsky (full text below) a bit ago and had to go find it again because i keep thinking about how poignant this breakdown of dandadan’s first ep is. i keep seeing people pronounce the series “problematic” and even going so far as to say the alien probe threat was encouraging rape culture. it’s like they can’t hold the idea of something being funny and scary, sexual but not necessarily titillating, at the same time. at least, i didn’t read it as being meant to erotically excite, especially since most people seem to have just been thoroughly creeped out. there’s definitely a moment where it feels like we’ve fallen into the beginnings of some hentai, but then the action starts going and roundhouse kicks that notion right in the face. it felt like purposeful expectation setting to me: “we’re gonna have things get creepy and toe that line of sexual horror and humor, but this story is going to focus on our protagonists leveling up to defeat these creeps.” in that sense, it’s nice to see when people make the informed decision to nope out if the story or style isn’t something they can enjoy.

[full text of screenshot, a forum post by Asterite34:

“It has occurred to me that the big spooky/problematic scenes here most closely resemble adolescent sex nightmares, with all the accompanying symbolism and externalization of personal anxieties. Neither experience has the tone or visual language of "realistic" sexual assault, nor the feel of lurid monster hentai or whatever. They have that feeling of disjointed surreal unreality that makes everything scary, sure, but also just sort of confusing and maybe actually slightly funny if it wasn't by all appearances actually happening to you. They're wet dreams with a side of sleep paralysis.

Okarun has an experience going into a dark tunnel and being confronted by vague sexual advances by an old woman who chases him down an endless corridor and traumatically (yet painlessly) castrates him. This is classic fear of women and anxiety about being impotent and emasculated and isolated, which certainly tracks with him being a bullied shy nerd who just met a girl who vaguely humors his nerdy interests for the first time ever.

Momo is wandering around in an abandoned building until she's captured by vaguely-featured salarymen clones who paralyze her and go on to calmly, smilingly explain that they're going to violate her with spiked phallic instruments and harvest her banana organs. This lines up with a conflict between adolescent sexual desire in the abstract and also a fear of loss of autonomy due to social pressure, which seems to be on her mind after her dickhead boyfriend broke up with her for not putting out.

It's only when the two dreams merge that each of them starts to get over their subconscious fears, with Ken subsuming his sense of isolation and owning his curse to become a monster that righteously emasculates his once-hoped-for alien friends/stand-ins for his bullies, and Momo overcoming her fear of being ostracized to roundhouse kick the symbolic boyfriend trying to take advantage of her.

And in the end, Okarun makes a connection with someone who won't abandon him even at his most pathetic and emasculated, and Momo connects with someone who clearly desires her but treats her with implicit respect.

In summary, communication is important, especially to teenagers.”]

[stargazedwinchester]

Never Alone ♡ Sam

Summary: Sam is dealing with his mental health issues and you want to be there for him. Word Count: 622

Sam has knowingly been struggling with his mental health more than ever recently, and it’s showing. He’s usually good at keeping things on the down low, but since you’ve become more exclusive, it’s been harder for him to put it behind himself.

You find your boyfriend sitting on the edge of your bed, a light grey t-shirt fitting his large build and a pair of dark joggers. He sits with his face in his hands, his hair tousled and unbrushed. You pause before fully stepping into the room, unsure whether he needs space. “Sam?” You call quietly, your gaze fixated on him. Sam’s tired eyes meet yours. He grins helplessly. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” You coo, padding down toward your bed and sitting next to him. Sam huffs at your comment, shaking his head lightly.

“I don’t know… I-” He huffs again, doubting whether he can muster up the courage to reveal his true emotions. He had been distant lately. You have tried to give him the space you thought he needed, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Sam is a man who knows that putting yourself first serves almost impossible whilst being a hunter. This life hasn’t been easy.

You gingerly place your hand at the top of his back, stocking back and forth with your thumb. “I don't know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You hush, hoping that he’ll accept the comfort in the quietness. As you brush his hair from his face, you see his nose blushes a light pink. Sam looks at you with sorrowful eyes, the corner of his lip quivering. Your heart shatters seeing him so vulnerable, so you open your arms out and offer him a hug. He embraces you, placing his head by the nape of your neck. One hand reaches to the back of your head, he grips on you slightly as if he needed some sort of physical contact to ground him. You comb your hand through his hair and allow him to destress and take a moment to gather himself.

Sam pulls away, clearing his throat. “I’ve been feeling really… down, lately,” he starts, and you keep your stare on him. “I know I have a lot of support around me, but I just feel so… alone.” He explains, and you keep your hand on his back. You sigh at his response, unknowing exactly how to help him feel better. “Is there anything you want me to do?” You question, and Sam pauses then shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Propping yourself up behind him, you play with his hair. Sam’s shoulders sit tense and stiff. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, collecting it so it’s in front of you. He wipes his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. The reticence between you both remains comfortable and trusting. You rest your chin on his shoulder.

“People love you, Sam,” you begin, and he stays quiet.

“You have no idea how much people love you. You are so extremely special, there is absolutely no way anyone could live their lives now without Sam Winchester. I couldn’t live my life without my Sam Winchester.” You plant a kiss where his shoulder blade sits. “You will never, ever be alone, Sam. Truly. It’s challenging to overcome your thoughts, but you will never be them. I hope you understand that.” You lull, placing another kiss atop his shoulder. He snickers at your words, almost in disbelief.

“I really love you,” you continue, “I wish I could express it more.”

Sam twists around and kisses you gently on the lips. You place your hand under his jaw and caress his cheek. “I love you, baby. Thank you.”

[ally1uvsu]

Way better than drugs. | Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

Summary; Maybe it’s on purpose that Nam-gyu looks too fucking handsome for his own good, maybe it’s involuntary how he’s so touchy with Thanos and can’t keep his hands to himself, or maybe Thanos is just insane for wanting to fuck his closest friend in this hell of a game, while everyone is asleep.

Info; cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, shameless smut, trans!nam-gyu, bottom!nam-gyu, top!thanos, dirty talking, p in v sex, public sex, voyuerism, wet dreams, drugs, hickeys, nam-gyu with a praise kink, name calling, face riding, clit pinching, messy and sloppy kissing, pulling out method.. don’t trust it guys, missionary, petnames, Nam-gyu whimpers and whines idc, tit sucking, Thanos is a thighs guy, overall just real fucking shameless smut, again 😭.

Notes; one of my first smuts without them being bots, I hope y’all like it 🙏 lmk if I need to change/improve anything, ALSO PLS DON’T HATE I’LL ACTUALLY CRY 💀.. AND TELL ME WHY I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS SINCE LIKE 9AM.. but it’s fine cuz trust, this is a deleted scene from the show.

Thanos swore he was bound to lose his fucking mind.

No, not because of the games, because of his drugs he could handle them. But because of a certain raven haired man whom Thanos became friends with. At first, Thanos brushed off how he was so touchy, how he always wanted to be near him. But.. it all started during that pentathlon game, when Nam-gyu first took one of his drugs and was cheering for some team, Thanos seriously couldn’t help but admire him. He had beautiful features, his smile was enough to make his heart actually falter as cheesy as it is.

Thanos brushed it off as some sort of adrenaline at the time, but it kept nagging him on even after they went. His gaze was locked onto Nam-gyu, he noticed how he made sweater paws and didn’t like really touching shit with his hands, it was endearing. And Thanos made sure to make a mental note about that- since hell, he’s been making a lot.

Thanos’ own enemy was his mind, he knew it very well. So while eating, his mind wandered around while the little group he formed chatted. It seemed like his subconscious wasn’t happy with normal scenarios of Nam-gyu, without even noticing, his mind began formulating pictures of the other in the dirtiest and yet most breathtaking, positions.

Maybe it’s on purpose that Nam-gyu looks too fucking handsome for his own good, maybe it’s involuntary how he’s so touchy with Thanos and can’t keep his hands to himself, or maybe Thanos is just insane for wanting to fuck his closest friend in this hell of a game, while everyone is asleep. Thanos would be lying if he said it didn’t piss him the fuck off, it was as if Nam-gyu was doing it on purpose, challenging him, daring him to do anything. Nam-gyu was riling Thanos up without even trying or knowing.

But Thanos sadly couldn’t act on it, what would be his excuse if he dragged Nam-gyu to a bathroom? Well, not like he thought the other would question him much over it but still. He would have to deal with his brain creating these scenarios until he got out of this place.

His mind seemed to be nagging him even in his sleep, he tossed and turned without even knowing, meanwhile he was having the dream of his life. Nam-gyu under him, moaning, and then- he woke up. He was fucking pissed, who the hell would be waking him up from such a heavenly dream in the middle of the night?

He groaned as he turned to the side, only to find Nam-gyu with his head looking down to him from his bunk on top. Well, at least it was who he liked. "I can’t sleep." Nam-gyu said and Thanos snorted, he really just needed to go back to that dream. "And what do i have to do with that?"

Nam-gyu sighed, shaking his head. "Give me one more, I can’t sleep for the life of me." Thanos paused, well, he could. But he was saving the drugs for any other rounds or things that could happen later. "I already gave you two today, hell no."

Nam-gyu furrowed his brows, it was true, but one more couldn’t possibly hurt, right? "Please, man. I swear I’ll leave you alone after this." Thanos sighed, but then, an idea clicked on his head the second he heard Nam-gyu grunt and move to push himself back up. "Wait."

Thanos said as he motioned for Nam-gyu to get down, and he heard the soft thud of his feet hitting the floor as he stood in front of Thanos’ bunk. The purple haired man grinned, opening the locket and putting a pill on his tongue. He saw Nam-gyu furrow his brows, again. He found that habit of his weirdly cute.

"Are you going to give it to me or not?" Thanos swore he could feel his heart thudding with excitement. "Come and get it."

Nam-gyu froze, was Thanos serious or just high? "You mean in your?.." he said with evident shock, and Thanos nodded. Nam-gyu scoffed, he needed the stupid pill anyways. "Whatever, fucking idiot." He mumbled as he kneeled down in front of Thanos, going in for a kiss.

Thanos was practically electrified inside when he felt the lips he had been craving so much press against his, he grinned against the other’s lips and pushed the pill that had already been dissolving in his tongue into Nam-gyu’s own, and yet to his surprise, Nam-gyu didn’t break apart the kiss like he expected him to.

Thanos swore he was having another wet dream about Nam-gyu. He wasn’t.

So, who was he to break it first? His hands made quick use of themselves and reached for his hips to pull him closer, having the raven haired one practically sit on one of his thighs, his own spread to sit on his. And Nam-gyu didn’t pull himself away or break the kiss, so Thanos just got a whole confirmation. He felt a hand tangle in his hair, tugging his head back and Thanos groaned as the kiss was broken.

"Asshole, all this work just to kiss me. You really need to get creative." Nam-gyu said, deadpanning. Thanos simply chuckled, not really paying any mind. What really mattered to him was that Nam-gyu kissed him. "I got the kiss, didn’t I?" Thanos said teasingly, and he swore he could see the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks even in the darkness of the room.

But Thanos was too focused on chasing Nam-gyu’s lips to pry any further. He kissed him again, it was messy, sloppy even. But it wasn’t like Thanos could hold himself back, he has been craving it.

Thanos slipped a hand under Nam-gyu’s shirt, and he could feel him shudder. Thanos’ hands were warm, warm and surprisingly comforting over his cold skin. He could feel it caressing his skin, he wanted- no, he needed more. Taking advantage of how he was situated on Thanos’ thigh, Nam-gyu slowly rocked his hips forward, giving himself some friction where he craved the most, making him moan against Thanos’ lips.

The kiss was broken again, this time, he was met with a teasing smirk from Thanos as he tried to catch his breath, panting quietly. "Nam-s-" "It’s Nam-gyu." He interrupted before Thanos could even get his name wrong, this bastard knew his name but still preferred to call him by the wrong fucking name. "Whatever." Was the reply he got, but the silence didn’t last long before he felt a hand in his own hair, tugging his head back. "You’ll have to be real quiet, do whatever you want to shut yourself up."

Nam-gyu would have nodded in another case scenario, but his head was being held back as he felt Thanos’ lips go from his jaw to his neck, biting, fuck, sucking. His lips were so fucking soft, it made Nam-gyu’s mind fog up. He gripped his shoulders as he kept that same pace, grinding against Thanos’ thigh until he lost his patience and began speeding up.

Thanos just let Nam-gyu be, focused on his neck, really. Nam-gyu’s skin was lighter than his, when he pulled back a bit, he found that Nam-gyu was light enough that his skin almost effortlessly got marked, little red circles appearing where he sucked, even if not hard. He would definitely take advantage of this, being the shitty asshole he was.

Thanos took his sweet time to suck two hickeys into Nam-gyu’s neck, until they became purple. A plus was how Nam-gyu’s breath was ragged, how he rubbed himself against his thigh. Thanos’ only question was why wasn’t Nam-gyu hard, did he do something wrong? Both of his hands stilled the other’s hips, earning a whine from it. Thanos’ lips parted, he figured he wanted more of those.

"Asshole, why’d you stop?" Nam-gyu said with a frown, and Thanos wasn’t entirely sure how to put this. "Are you sure you want this?"

The question threw Nam-gyu overboard, of course he did! Jesus, he could feel his underwear stick to his cunt, he could feel it actually fucking throb to the point it hurt just from how badly he wanted it. It took him a bit to realize why Thanos was asking him that, and then his brain finally processed it, he was grinding against Thanos previously. Thanos who didn’t know he’s transgender.

But hell, he needed this. He just crossed his fingers and hoped Thanos wouldn’t judge. A good part of him knew he wouldn’t, for fucks sake he was kissing a guy. But the other small part of him insisted in nagging him.

"I’ll fucking punch you if you mock me for this." Nam-gyu threatened, but the shakiness in his voice when he initially spoke was easily heard, and his words didn’t have his usual confidence and bite to them. "Jeez, you oughta relax, Nam-su." Thanos said as he raised his hands up in the air, and Nam-gyu simply glared at him for that stupid name, but he didn’t have the patience to correct Thanos, not now, anyways.

Nam-gyu took a shuddering sigh, he felt nervous. But he spoke either way, he would need to speak if he wanted this. "I uh.. I’m trans. And I don’t have any surgeries because you know, I’m here for a reason."

Oh.

So that was the reason? Well, at least he knew Nam-gyu didn’t have a boner because of something that didn’t involve arousal, he took it surprisingly well- it was still Nam-gyu, the same Nam-gyu who was infuriatingly handsome. "Oh, okay." Thanos shrugged, and Nam-gyu seemed taken aback, he really didn’t care? "Still want you on my dick." Thanos said bluntly, and Nam-gyu didn’t even have time to blush before another kiss was initiated.

It was the same sloppy kiss from before, except this time, before Nam-gyu could even grind against him, Thanos had him beneath himself with a surprising ease. His hands were halfway down his pants and already onto the waistband of his underwear before Thanos broke the kiss to stare into Nam-gyu’s eyes, a silent ask for consent. Thanos wasn’t an asshole, afterall.

Nam-gyu nodded, sucking in a breath. "Hurry the fuck up.." he mumbled, and he didn’t have to ask for it any further before he felt Thanos’ hand sneak down and past his underwear, one of his fingers tapping his clit, enough to make him shudder.

"Jesus, you’re already so fuckin’ wet, bet you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?" Thanos mocked, and Nam-gyu only did as much as utter a curse under his breath. Circling the other man’s clit with his thumb as he wasted no time in sliding his ring finger in, pumping it in and out slowly at first with a shit eating grin in his face Nam-gyu chose to ignore, because hell, it felt good.

Thanos couldn’t help but let out a groan himself as he eyed Nam-gyu’s neck, he was so fucking easy to leave marks on, Thanos decided that he should take the most advantage of it as he could. He dove back in, biting and sucking into his neck as he slid another finger, lazily pumping them in and out of his cunt.

"D-dickhead, go fucking faster." Nam-gyu stuttered our slightly, he hated himself for being so fucking needy right now. "Wow, I’m hurt, sweetheart." Thanos said before his fingers picked up the speed, earning moans that were music to his ears, but he couldn’t let anyone else hear them. One, they’d probably get in trouble, two, Nam-gyu’s sweet, sweet noises were for his ears only.

So, using his free hand, he put a palm over Nam-gyu’s mouth so he could moan as much as he could, muffling those sounds enough, at least in Thanos’ brain. He could feel Nam-gyu clench around his digits, hell, if he felt this good around his fingers, imagine around his dick?

Nam-gyu moaned, his mind was foggy and spinning, even. He couldn’t stop his moans, they came our involuntarily because it felt too fucking good. Thanos had long and slim fingers, and he knew how to make him feel extremely good around them. And god, the way his mouth sucked hickeys in all the right fucking spots had him floating to another universe. It had been a while since.. he had done this, not that he really ever had sex, he wasn’t one with a huge sex drive. So it was safe to assume this was the best fuck of his life so far.

"I can feel you fucking clench around my fingers like you don’t ever wanna let me go," Thanos murmured against Nam-gyu’s neck, pulling back to observe his handiwork, purple and red hickeys littered his neck and down to the joint of his neck and shoulders, followed by marks of his teeth. "And you look so handsome around them too, hell, if I had a camera I’d take a picture of you and keep it just so I could stare at your face all scrunched up in pleasure when I jerk off."

Nam-gyu fucking clenched around his fingers hard at his words, he was so fucking close. His words uselessly jumbling up against one another, only distinctive phrases like 'i’m close’ and ‘don’t stop’ could be made out of that mess.

Nam-gyu felt like his brain melted for the time being, everything felt like it was spinning and he couldn’t take his mind off how good Thanos’ fingers felt, and then just as he was about to cum, Thanos stopped.

"Hey!- why the fuck did you stop?!" Nam-gyu whisper yelled as he propped himself up on his elbows, only to be met with the sight of Thanos fucking smirking while he cleaned his fingers with.. his mouth. Nam-gyu’s lips parted, it was an erotic fucking sight, but he was still pissed. "Jeez, relax. Be patient." Thanos said once he got his fingers out of his mouth, kissing Nam-gyu’s lips briefly before trailing down until he reached his shirt. "I wouldn’t let you go without getting a taste."

And then Thanos reached for the hem of Nam-gyu’s shirt, they were both fucking lucky their bunks were right in the very back of the room, and plus, the guards didn’t give two fucks about them fucking, well.. probably didn’t. Again, Nam-gyu nodded and Thanos made quick work of getting his shirt off, kissing his collarbone before mumbling; "You can keep this on, I don’t mind."

“You can take it off.” Nam-gyu said after a few seconds, and neither one of them mentioned too much about it. Nam-gyu let out a sigh as he took off his binder with the help of the other, sighing as he felt his breathing definitely ease. And Thanos also made quick work to get his pants off, tugging them down hastily along with his underwear until they pooled around Nam-gyu’s ankles.

The sight made Thanos’ mouth go fucking dry, even in the dark, he could make out how Nam-gyu looked. He was lean, had a considerable amount of muscle, but what called his attention were his thighs, they looked plush, comfortable. But he decided to take his sweet time with this.

He pressed kisses down to Nam-gyu’s chest, wrapping his lips around a nipple while his thumb rolled the other, the whimpers that fell from Nam-gyu’s mouth only spurring him on.

He trailed kisses until he had his face between Nam-gyu’s thighs, breath fanning over his cunt in a way that had Nam-gyu shuddering. Thanos placed a kiss on one of his inner thighs, biting it softly and earning a whimper. Thanos didn’t take much longer to wrap both of his arms around Nam-gyu’s thighs to keep them apart, burying his face in his cunt.

The taste of his arousal was dizzying, Thanos groaned as he licked a stripe up his slit, eyeing Nam-gyu who clasped both hands over his mouth, shutting his eyes. The taste burst into his mouth, god, it was addicting. He wrapped his mouth around his clit, sucking on it as he let out quiet groans, muffled by the skin. God, he was eating Nam-gyu like he was and had been starving, like he was the best meal he could find out here. And Thanos swore he could do this for fucking hours.

He moved his mouth to his entrance, his thrusting his tongue as he tried his best to keep Nam-gyu still as his hips bucked.

Nam-gyu, meanwhile, was on cloud nine. His mind was hazy, and he felt so fucking good. Thanos’ mouth was on him, his hands were on him. It was addictive, making his brain become putty. The way his thumb pressed and rolled his clit, shit, Nam-gyu was going to lose his shit.

One of his hands tangled into Thanos’ hair, pressing his face closer, hips moving onto their own accord as he rode his face, head thrown back as he felt Thanos double his efforts. "Shit, oh my fucking- yes.. oh fuck," were what could be made out, well, he had long given up on staying quiet, he was just making half assed attempts to stay quiet.

Nam-gyu let his eyes flutter shut as he felt the coil in his belly, head thrown back as he began getting increasingly more sensitive, his moans became more like whines, rising in pitch every time he felt Thanos do any movement, really. "Thanos, fuck, I’m going to cum." Nam-gyu warned, breathless as he did so. And he earned a grunt of approval from him, and then, with one final brush on his clit, he came.

Fuck, he had to hold back a scream just from how intense it all felt. His back arched slightly, his thighs trembled and he still could feel Thanos’ hands on him, holding him as still as he could as his orgasm crashed over him.

Thanos kept up his work as Nam-gyu came, dedicated to catch every single drop, he was addicted to how Nam-gyu tasted. Only when he was sure that Nam-gyu finally came down from his high that Thanos straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning in for another kiss, letting Nam-gyu taste himself in his lips. "You’re so fucking hot" He said, something Nam-gyu couldn’t quite catch because it was in English, but then again he just assumed it was something good.

He pulled back seconds after, a smirk coming to his face, "I might as well keep you, Jesus, you’re so addicting I could eat you like this for hours." He then leaned in to whisper on Nam-gyu’s ear; "I’ll even dare to say, you relax me more than those drugs, could get high while eating you out."

Nam-gyu wasn’t entirely sure on how Thanos could speak so dirtily and also say the sweetest things, but seriously, even if he didn’t know how to reply, he liked it. Both of his hands cupped his cheeks as he pulled him in for another kiss, Nam-gyu was addicted to Thanos’ lips just as he wss to how he tasted.

While at it, Nam-gyu brushed his knee against Thanos’ crotch, or what he assumed to be it. Earning a hiss from Thanos against his lips that he greedily drank. He was definitely hard, that he could tell. Perhaps even painfully so.

"Shit, you’ll maybe me lose my fucking mind, baby." Thanos said as the kiss broke, tugging his sweatpants down along with his boxers. "Kind of the point." Nam-gyu said back, from where he was lying, he could definitely make out how Thanos’ dick looked, and fuck, he was considerably big. "You might as well rip me in half." Nam-gyu mumbled out what was supposed to be an internal thought, and Thanos chuckled. "I’ll make it fit and make you feel good, just relax and keep calm." Again with that stupid English in the, but this time, Nam-gyu caught onto what he had said, something about him staying calm. And Nam-gyu nodded.

Thanos jerked himself once, twice, before rubbing his cock between the slick folds of the other’s cunt, gathering as much lubricant as he could. After coating it in a considerable amount, he rubbed the tip against his entrance and pushed in, and shit, they both saw stars.

Nam-gyu had to hold back a loud moan as he felt Thanos’ tip slide in, instead, a whimper came out. It had been a while since he last took someone, and Thanos was big and had a good girth. He took a deep breath as he bit onto his palm, feeling Thanos slowly slide in. Giving shallow thrusts to bottom out, his groans made his stomach fucking flutter, he could cum from the sounds alone again.

"Holy shit.. you’re so fucking big," he breathed out, closing his eyes. And Thanos opened his own that had been closed.

The sight, albeit obscured, was an erotic one. One that made Thanos’ mouth go dry. He was barely halfway in and Nam-gyu looked completely drunk on his cock, his eyes closed, already sweating with some hair sticking to his face while the rest fell into a small mess on the pillow beneath his head. His neck had vivid hickeys that bloomed there, in different shades. His thighs spread apart and fuck, his pussy weakly fluttering around him as it fought to accommodate him. "I can cum from this fucking sight alone, Jesus Christ, you’re fucking handsome." Thanos said, technically star-struck.

Nam-gyu let out a shuddering sigh, the words of praise made him melt, made him involuntarily clench around Thanos, he liked being praise despite degrading others, and Thanos had noticed, he would definitely use it to his pleasure later.

Nam-gyu only opened his eyes again when he felt his ass press flush against Thanos’ hips, he felt stuffed so full of his dick, he swore he could feel Thanos all the way up in his throat. Not that he was complaining, if anything, he found it fucking hot.

"You’re so fucking tight, how long has it been since you last done this?" Thanos said as he gripped Nam-gyu’s hips, looking at him to see if he could finally move.

"Shit.. I don’t know, maybe five months?" Nam-gyu managed out, nodding at Thanos rather than using his own words. He bit down on his bottom lip as he felt Thanos finally move, slow and deep. A moan would leave his lips every time he thrusted back in, the feeling was nothing short of heavenly.

"Fucking.. oh my fucking god I can feel you all the way up in my guts.. shit!" Nam-gyu moaned, eyes half-lidded, his hands moved to hold firmly onto Thanos’ shoulders, staring into his eyes as the other man let out low groans "fuck, go faster, I’ll lose my fucking mind if you don’t" he nearly begged, shit, as demanding as he sounded, the desperation in his voice was unmistakable.

Thanos gripped Nam-gyu’s thighs firmly, he was sure he would leave marks but who fucking cared? Only Thanos would see those anyways. "You’re so fucking impatient, but who am I to deny such a handsome guy my dick?" Thanos tilted his head before he changed his pace from slow and deep to hard and fast, the sudden change in pace having Nam-gyu’s eyes rolling back, scratching Thanos’ back from pleasure.

"Ah.. fuck, shit! This feels so fuckin’.. good, Than-" he was cut off before he could even say the name, this time, Thanos was the one correcting Nam-gyu. "Su-bong."

Nam-gyu swore he could cum from the tone of voice alone, Thanos’ voice was strained, almost as if he was holding back sounds. Unlike Nam-gyu who had long given up on doing so. He felt Thanos lean against him, mouth pressing open kisses around one of his boobs before wrapping around his nipple one again, pace never faltering for once.

"Shit.. you look so beautiful like this, moaning like you’re being pounded into oblivion, which you are, just so the others can hear you." Thanos murmured, chuckling. "You going to cum on my cock, hm?" And Nam-gyu nodded, clenching around him at the praise.

"Fucking hell- oh, shit.. yes I’ll- mm.. cum on your cock, s-su-bong." Nam-gyu whined, closing his eyes as he tried to calm down the intense feeling that seemed to want to consume him whole.

"Good boy, doing so well for me.. taking me so well, go on, cum on my dick like the handsome man you are." Thanos said as one of his hands reached for Nam-gyu’s clit, rubbing it with two fingers and pinching it.

Nam-gyu was in fucking ecstasy, all he would make out was Thanos, all he could say was Thanos’ name, he was so close- he moaned loudly, muffled by a kiss, a sloppy and wet one, when he felt Thanos pinch his clit and rub it. He was so close to just fucking tipping over the edge.. and then the kiss broke, and Nam-gyu was a moaning mess.

Thanos let out a grunt, head ducked down as he focused on just pounding into the man below him. "Shit.. Nam-gyu, come on, cum on my dick." And Nam-gyu froze when he heard Thanos call him by his name correctly, he wasn’t supposed to feel as aroused as he did, but he couldn’t help himself when he gushed around Thanos’ dick just from having his name said correctly "shit, shitshitshit.. Su-bong, Su-bong I’m-" was what he chanted, calling Thanos’ name as if he was some kind of angel, like he was praying to him.

Nam-gyu was too fucked out to make out anything, head thrown back while Thanos had his free hand over Nam-gyu’s mouth so he wouldn’t wake up everyone. He felt his hips squirm as he wrapped his legs around Thanos’ hips and pulled him impossibly closer, breath knocked out of his lungs as he pulled the other incredibly more deeper.

"Fuck, Nam-gyu, you’ll be the death of me, fucking shit.." Thanos grunted as he felt his orgasm hit, and he pulled out very quickly before anything, cumming over his thighs and stomach. They stayed like that for a bit, panting and trying to catch their breaths and process what the hell had just happened.

Thanos was the first one to recompose himself, and the sight completely mesmerized him. Nam-gyu had his eyes screwed shut, lips parted as he panted. He was sweating, hair stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were visibly very flushed. He had marks all over his neck and shoulders, some on his collarbones and fingers/bite marks on his thighs. His chest was heaving, body slightly twitching, and fuck, he was covered in his cum.

Cum smeared Nam-gyu’s abdomen, his thighs, come cum ran down Nam-gyu’s cunt and then fell on the sheets below, Thanos had never seen a sight so erotic and yet so beautiful at the same time before. And the first words he could manage out after that were;

"Holy fucking shit."

[annakabeybeh]

Batman & Robin #17 Review

I don't know if there's too much or too little to unpack here. I'm really loving this chapters and leaving me wanting more. It's steady and calm in the pacing without feeling boring. It's just perfect. Little by little it's opening the story of Memento and I absolutely love it.

The mix of past and present could be a little annoying to some but I feel it has a good effect because even if tells you almost nothing it still gives you a precedent of things to happen.

I love the way Damanian's character is being build, it's a change from his always sure demeanor. He always had doubts about himself but he tried to no show them so this Damian is a nice breath for his development.

Spoilers ahead

This panel is important.

1st Is he talking about the way he was raised? Talia and Ras or was a small backhanded comment about Bruce? It could be both but I love the idea of it being about Bruce. Yes, Damian is intellingent and brilliant for his age but that doesn't mean that he should be doing what he's doing. He might at that moment saying that Bruce could be more and do more by being a normal citizen than as Batman and it is a good take, boring in comic sense but it is an amazing take.

2nd The doubt about the need of Batman in Gotham, it is a issue talked about in a book I read, Batman and Psychology. The question is Batman the reason everything happens or everything happens and that's why Batman is needed. The question as far as I know has arose outside comics not in them and this being questioned for me it is interesting. It's a doubt beyond capacity of a character but more of need and reason (Do I make sense? I hope so)

This panel is something that I feel writers had made Bruce do over and over again. Bruce blames others for his failiures (Blamed Dick for Jason's death. Tried to guilt trip Jason about Damian's death -DAMN BRUCE, FUCK YOU!- and he even blamed and guilt tripped Damian about Alfred's death -Again, Fuck you Bruce) but this goes beyond that in my opinion, why? Because this is a Bruce that relies on his Robin, he's not an accessory, he's an extension of himself and it was shown not only with this interaction but with the chapter before but it also goes beyond just passing blame because it also shows that Damian is getting away and he doesn't like that.

Is this just jealousy of a parent as he watch his son drift away?

Damian had been raised to be a villain or a vigilante, his choice nevertheless and his connection with Thomas Wayne was bigger than Bruce expected. He understood him and he liked him, in a way that Damian might not like Bruce but in the way Damian liked and loved Alfred. I love the idea that Damian is seeing Dr. Bashar's as some sort of Alfred's substitute (I do not trust the man but Damian needed that support because let's be honest Bruce is not that, not for Damian and not for anyone.) This show Damian in a nutshell. A person that sees the world and sees not only what's infront of him but what it can be. He sees he can be bigger and better than what he's that moment.

I mean Bruce, your ego, keep it in check. He should have done this since the beggining but he didn't because of his ego but now that Damian is interested in someone else, looking up someone that is not him he became this kind of person. That's what I feel. I find it funny and it will funnier that there's nothing to doubt the man.

This interesting. She had been suspicion that Jack is Batman but this is not a comfimation of the suspicion but to show that despite everything Damian is Bruce's son and I love it. They're different but similar. I feel that this is like comfirming that he won't stop being Robin (Don't do that to me, I need more Damian content I love him so much).

The team up with Jason is something that would fuel more disputes between Bruce and Damian. Some sort of jealousy from both of them and I love the idea, they need to communicate but they are too stuborn to do so. Damian's fears and doubts about himself and what he thinks Bruce wants from him push him to not tell him stuff. That kind of stuff was something he shared with Alfred and he hadn't found someone to confide in so Bashar had stepped because he communicates and Bruce hadn't communicated he never had ease Damian's worries.

The title of the new chapter seems Chef's kiss to me. A reference to both Death in the family and Death of the Family. I have big expectations in next chapters. Tbh this is what Damian is for me.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 11

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N: i've been so busy but here's ch11!! I hope you like :)

~~~~~

Billie’s POV

I waited a while, checking my phone for a reply constantly but got nothing. I forced myself out of bed to get ready for rehearsal. I start the bath and undress, putting a Netflix show on my phone. I lower myself into the hot, bubbling tub and prop my phone up on the side.

I spend a while here, leaning my head back on the rolled up towel I set up for myself. I zoned off, thinking about switching out a few songs for tonight’s show.

As I drifted off into a daydream, my phone began buzzing. I opened my eyes to see it was Remy calling. Before I could dry my hands off, it slid towards the edge of the tub. My attempt to catch it failed, and my phone fell inside the water.

“FUCKING HELL BRO.”

I fished it out of the bath water, trying to answer the call anyways, but the screen was completely glitched out. Immediately, I got up and tried to dry it with a towel, shaking the water out of the charging port, only to realize my phone was completely messed up.

“You have to be fucking kidding me!” I grunted, sitting back down in my bath and throwing my useless phone at the floor. This is the least relaxing bath I’ve ever taken in my life.

I quickly drained the bath and took a shower, trying my best to not get into an irreversible horrible mood. When I finished getting ready, I threw an oversized hoodie over my outfit, put my hair in a pony tail, and left for the venue to start rehearsal.

******

“In the bathtub? No wonder you weren’t answering me.” Finneas tuned his guitar, prepping for sound check.

It was already 4:30pm, and we were getting ready before the concert at 7pm. Finneas joining me on stage for the next three days was the main thing keeping me going.

“Yeah, I was gonna ask, do you have an extra phone I can borrow for now?” I laughed, waiting for our sound guy’s sign to start testing the mics.

“We can get the team to get you a phone by tonight.” He laughed along with me.

“Actually, I was gonna tell you… Before I drowned my phone, I texted Remy.”

“You did?” He looked at me, wanting to know all the details.

“Yeah, I don’t know if you saw her instagram post, but when I saw it, I just wanted to talk to her… Tell her how much I miss her.” I looked down at the mic, fidgeting.

“What did you text her?”

“It’s literally so dumb. I feel so stupid, dude…”

“Tell me!” He begged, excitedly.

I cleared my throat and paraphrased, “I said… I saw your wall, it’s incredible.”

He laughed, leaning back and smacking my arm. “Literally no one… Trump fans.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I cringed at myself, laughing with him. “And then I just double texted her, and told her I missed her, and I wished I was with her in her newly painted room.”

“That’s rough, man.” He caught his breath, finishing up his guitar sound check. “Please tell me she answered before you destroyed your phone.”

“She called AS my phone jumped in the bath with me, dude.” I groaned, pouting while stifling a laugh.

“Fuuuuck!” He chuckled. “You wanna use my phone and give her a call back?”

“I was gonna call her from the hotel phone after the show. I don’t want her to think I purposely ignored her call.”

“So this is your first time speaking in over three weeks, huh? That’s almost a month. Have you thought about what you’re going to say?” He walked with me to the greenroom as we talked.

“Sort of. I’m going to apologize for sure. Hopefully, it goes well, and she forgives me. Hopefully it won’t lead to an argument. She’ll probably want to talk about it, though. I just don’t want to mess up and say the wrong things, you know?”

“Just speak from your heart. Don’t hide anything, leave it all out in the open. That’s just my advice.” He patted my back and grabbed a snack from the table.

“Yeah. I hope I can do that. I hope she even answers.” I shrugged, thinking about the possibility that she may not even want to talk anymore.

What if she changed her mind. What if me not answering hurt her feelings. What if she was just calling to tell me to go fuck myself instead?

“Let’s see right now.” Finneas immediately dialed her on his phone, putting it on speaker.

“No!” I covered my mouth and held my breath. I guess there would never be a better time to rip the bandaid off.

It rang for a while, the dial tone continuing on, until her voicemail greeting played. He hung up.

“Maybe she’s busy?” He looked at me, trying not to let me down.

“Maybe.” My heart drops. She usually answers Finneas, so the fact that she didn’t, made me feel like she didn’t want to hear from, or about me. Like she figured I was still on my bullshit and Finneas was calling to fix it for me. I fucked up. She’s probably hurt. I double text her, then I decline her call. She must think I’m the worst.

Finneas pats my back and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry.” He says.

The day goes on, my body traveled through space and time in autopilot. It passed by in a blink, and suddenly it was time to perform. I tried my best to get excited for the show while Finneas and the rest of the crew hyped me up. Before I knew it, I was on stage catching that adrenaline rush that was so familiar to me.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

After the show, I ran under the stage and back to the green room to grab some water and have a breather. Finneas trailed behind me, plopping on the same couch from earlier. It was a pretty known ritual of mine to immediately have some alone time to catch my breath after a show, mostly to keep the crew or management from rushing me all at once. I gave Finneas a heads up that I’d be getting un-ready in my dressing room, and made my way over.

I stretched my arms over my head and let out a giant yawn as I approached my room. Turning the knob, I swung the door open, exhausted from quite the performance I had put on, both physically and mentally.

Inside the room sat a pretty brunette facing the vanity mirror, holding an enormous bouquet of white, long stem roses. She straightened her posture and watched me through the reflection. Her back faced me until I stepped in and closed the door behind me.

“Remy?” I took a step closer. She turned around, remaining seated in the velvet stool. I almost didn’t believe it was real. I wanted to pinch myself but I was found half paralyzed, barely able to form full sentences.

“Hey, you.” She shyly spoke, her voice filling my heart with warmth and relief. She held the flowers out to me, standing up and looking at the brown-paper wrapped two-dozen in her hands. She struggled making eye contact and her arm was a bit shaky.

I stepped forward, moving the flowers out of the way and pulling her into my arms. We said nothing for a while, steadying our heartbeats. I indulged in our embrace, swaying back and forth out of habit. I focused on the reflection on the mirror in front of me, taking a mental picture of this moment. Her chin rested on my shoulder, her head only half an inch lower than mine. Her arms wrapped around my torso, and my hands on her upper and lower back. For three weeks, alI I needed was this hug.

Finally we broke the silence, “I’m sorry.” We both blurted out.

I pulled away, looking at her delicate face. She looked back down at the flowers, avoiding my gaze. Her makeup was done so lightly tonight, with a thin winged eyeliner standing out. I looked at her perfectly high cheekbones, noticing just a bit of shine added to them. Her hair was done in loose, wavy curls, with her curtain bangs remaining straight. Her lips were brushed over with a sheer gloss, her lips naturally plump and mauve. At the sight of them, I tucked my bottom lip under my top one, thinking before I let myself speak and ruin everything.

“Remy, I’m the one who should be sorry.” I finally mustered up the courage to talk, although careful not to reveal too much. “I fucked up. I didn’t know what the hell I was saying. I’m an idiot, I thought I was helping, but I was just being selfish. And this whole time I thought I was angry at you, but really-“ I stopped myself, noticing her long eyelashes batting at me.

I paused, taking a deep breath and giving myself a moment to think before continuing. “I was angry at you for nothing. I was wrong. I shouldn’t expect you to listen to everything I say, or make decisions about your career based on-“ I sighed, feeling like I could never find the words. I was tip toeing around the real problem, just like Finneas said. I wanted to be honest with her so badly, I did. I knew I couldn’t. It wasn’t the right time.

“It’s okay. I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” She looked directly in my eyes. Her stare felt like knives jabbing into my soul.

“No, don’t apologize-“

“Let me apologize. Please.” She started, handing me the bouquet that she had trimmed and prepared herself. “I know I’m not the easiest person to be friends with. I have a lot of baggage, and-“

“Stop. Don’t say that-“ I hated hearing that. I hated thinking I contributed to her feeling this way.

She protested, “No, it’s true. We’ve been friends for so long, and you’ve been there through everything. You did pick me back up, and maybe that does give you the right to feel like you have to protect me and shield me from everything.”

I swallowed, admiring the roses in my hand, while listening to her soft voice.

“But you have to let me make my own choices and my own mistakes. And I need you to support me, because you’re all I have.” She began to cry, “Billie, this month has been so hard without being able to just text you or call you, and then you casually text me-“

I quickly put the roses on the vanity next to us and brought her into another hug. “I’m so sorry, Remy. I’m so stupid. I should’ve been more supportive. I’m stubborn and I think everyone should just think like me. I just wanted you to be happy. And it just felt like you’d be happier if I didn’t butt in on your life…” I gently placed a hand on the back of her head. Her hair smelled like jasmine and vanilla, and felt silky smooth. “It just hurt. Some of the things you said hurt, and I’m so fucking stubborn.”

I pulled away, grabbing both of her hands. A small gasp escaped my lips, “And today, when you called me, the reason I didn’t answer is because my phone fell in the bathtub and it fucking broke, I swear to god I wasn’t ignoring you. That time.”

She nodded, smiling a bit. That smile she held back from me, although minuscule, meant the world to me.

“I promise you, no more telling you what to do, no more harsh, unnecessary comments about your work. I’m going to support you, no matter what. If you ever kill Joe, I’ll be your alibi, we’ll bury the body together.”

She let out a small laugh. I made her laugh. Thank God.

“That was a joke.” I smiled. “I’m sorry for being so-“

She shook her head, “Me too. I’m sorry for complaining so fucking much. I understand why you want me out of there so bad. But I need to keep pursuing this. I feel it. Trust me, okay?” She smiled, letting go of my hands and wiping her tears. “And I’m sorry for saying that shit about you before I left the car. It’s not true. You’re not like that at all.”

I nodded. “It’s okay, I deserved it. I was such a dick, Remy.” I rubbed my eyes and took my hair out of the messy ponytail. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll go anywhere you want.”

“Billie.” She grabbed my arms, grazing my skin softly with her fingers. Her touch gave me goosebumps.

“Yeah?”

“I know you love me.” She looked directly into my eyes.

“You do?” My heart dropped all the way down into my ass. My stomach turned and my knees weakened.

“Yeah, you’re the greatest friend I could ask for.” She smiled.

The word friend echoed in my head, giving me the urge to break my neck right in front of her. However, I thanked my lucky stars that’s what she meant. This meant nothing had changed, and we’d continue as normal. As best friends…