#also if you saw this a few hours ago in the middle of the night/early morning... no you didn't!

[itneverendshere]

Just saw the new popular movie ’’This ends with us’’ and I beg of you to draw from the actual beautiful love story, so pure! So same concept of the love story: Pouge!Rafe has been kicked out by his mom and her abusive boyfriend, Kook!Reader sees him homeless & hiding. Reader does small acts of kindness, which builds up to a romance but they separate for whatever reason (could be because they get discovered, he joins the military, like the movie, or something different). It could also be reversed with Pouge!Reader instead being homeless, you pick! Years go by, Reader meets an abusive partner, she bumps into a now grown up Rafe. Lots of angst, lingering feelings and longing, he sees the signs of abusive and gets protective. But without the movie plots of reader getting pregnant and married) I adore and worship your writing skills, truly have a gift to make you feel all the emotions!! <3333333

INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (one)

i loooove this request because pogue!rafe so i decided to turn into a mini series (two or three parts). im personally not a fan of it ends with us, but i love your requests bc it's still very different from the original plot.

pairing: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: domestic violence; absent parents; angst; fluff.

Rafe was born rough around the edges.

There was never any sugar-coating about it; with his hair always messy, sun-bleached and salty, and his hands perpetually stained with the grime of whatever job he'd taken up that week, Rafe Cameron had never known peace. He moved like a stray dog that had learned to fend for itself, his eyes always scanning for trouble. 

Most people kept their distance, and he liked it that way.

There wasn’t much softness in his life. His mom tried her best, he supposed, but that wasn’t saying much. She had a new boyfriend every few months, and they were all the same — mean, drunk, and looking for a fight. Rafe learned early on that if you couldn’t fight back, you were nothing. So he fought. A lot.

He fought the men who walked into their house at night, stinking of cheap whiskey and cigarettes. He fought the kids at school who called him trash, who mocked the way his clothes never quite fit or how he always seemed a little too hungry. But mostly, he fought himself — every time he looked in the mirror and saw his father’s eyes staring back at him. The man who left and never looked back. 

Another piece of shit. 

He kept his head down, kept his hands busy, and kept his mouth shut unless he had something to say. He wasn’t nice. Nice got you nowhere; nice got you used, broken, and left behind. He had seen it too many times to believe otherwise. The world wasn’t a kind place, and he wasn’t a kind guy. 

Most days, he’d finish work covered in sweat and salt, with just enough money in his pocket to get by. He'd dropped out of school years ago and head to the docks, sit on the edge, and smoke a cigarette while the sun dipped below the horizon.

The only real moment of peace he had.

Rafe took what work he could find — fixing up old fishing boats for the few Kooks who’d dare come down his side of the Cut, pulling shrimp nets in the dead hours of the morning, his back aching and his muscles screaming at such a young age, but at least it was better than being home. If he could call it that.

Home, where his mom was probably passed out again, where the latest loser she'd dragged in might be passed out on the couch or looking for a fight.

He could hear them shouting before he even got to the door. His mom’s voice screaming her throat out, and he could hear something crashing inside — a glass, maybe, or a plate. Then came the matching scream of the new boyfriend, Tony or Tommy or something — they all blurred together after a while. Rafe paused on the porch, his hand hovering over the door handle, debating whether it was worth going in at all.

Inside, she was standing in the middle of the living room, her face flushed, her blonde hair a mess. Tony stood over her, fists clenched, his face red and veins bulging in his neck. 

Rafe knew that look. 

He’d seen it before — seen it in a dozen men who thought they could push their weight around, thought they could break whatever they wanted.

“What the hell’s going on?” 

Tony turned, eyes narrowing. “None of your damn business, boy.”

Rafe took a step forward, his fists balling up instinctively. “If it’s in my house, it’s my business.”

His mom spun around to face him, her eyes wild and desperate. “Just stay out of it, Rafe. You always have to make things worse!”

He felt the sting of her words. He should be used to it by now. “I’m not the one who brought this piece of shit in here.”

That was all it took. Tony lunged at him, shoving him hard against the wall. Rafe felt the air rush out of his lungs as pain flared in his back. “You watch your mouth, punk,” Tony hissed, his face inches from his, his breath a disgusting mix of beer and god knows what.

“Or what?” Rafe shot back. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was how to keep his anger in check — at least most of the time.

Tony’s eyes flicked to his mom, like he was making a point, and she just stood there, watching. He’d lost his faith in her a long time ago but it still blew him away how she never lifted a finger to help him. 

“Get out,” she said finally, hand moving to point towards the bust-up wooden door.

“What?” Rafe blinked, caught off guard. He must’ve heard her wrong.

“You heard me. Get out!” She was shouting now, her voice high-pitched and desperate. “I can’t have you here, always stirring things up! You make everything worse!”

It had to be a fucking joke. He was the only one bringing in money to pay the rent, the only one who kept the house clean enough so it wouldn’t look or smell like someone died in there. Paid the hospital bills when they hit her too hard. He did everything, always. 

Tony shoved him again, harder this time, toward the open door. “You heard her. Get the hell out.”

Rafe stumbled backward, catching himself before he fell. He looked at his mom, his chest tightening in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. “You’re really gonna choose him over your own son?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Just go, Rafe. I can’t do this anymore.”

He forced himself to nod. He almost wanted to laugh. “Fine,” he muttered, pushing past Tony and heading for the door. “Don’t call me when he sends you to the hospital again.”

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The moment he stepped outside, the wind hit his face like a slap, the kind that made his eyes sting and his heart pound. Things had never gotten to this point before. He would’ve rather taken a beating then get kicked out. 

He walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he couldn’t go back. Not now. Not ever. He’d die before he begged his mother or Tony to let him in that shithole again. His feet took him along the edge of town, past the marina and the fishing docks, and eventually, he found himself in the wealthy part of town, near Figure 8.

It was ironic, almost funny.

The Kooks lived here, the ones who wouldn’t give him the time of day if they saw him on their streets. And here he was, a beat-up pogue, walking right through their territory, angry and suddenly so damn tired.

He spotted an old, abandoned house, sitting at the end of a street where the mansions stood tall and proud. He had walked by it a few times before and noticed it had been empty for years, the paint peeling off in strips, the windows boarded up, and the grass overgrown. He crossed the street, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, and pushed the broken gate open. The hinges squeaked loudly, proving just how long it had been since someone had been there.

The front door was unlocked; it opened with the slightest push. Inside, it smelled of dust and mold, but it was dry, and it was quiet. It was enough. He made his way to a small room in the back, what must have once been a kitchen. There was an old sofa left behind, covered in a dirty sheet. He pulled the sheet off, threw it in a corner, and sank onto the sofá, finally breathing properly. 

He stayed there, staring at the cracked ceiling and the empty walls, wondering how the fuck he was going to get himself out of this one. 

For the two next days, he moved carefully, quietly, in and out of the house. He didn’t want anyone to know he was staying there. He wasn’t getting his ass thrown into jail again. He found a way in through the back window, kept to the dimly lighted areas, and avoided the main roads. He didn't have much — a few changes of clothes, some cash from odd jobs, and his dad’s old pocketknife, the only thing he had left of the bastard.

It was on the third day that he saw you.

He was sitting on the front steps, having a cigarette, when he heard the sound of a bike chain clicking. He glanced up, and there you were — riding a yellow bike, hair pulled back, and eyes glued to him as you pedaled down the street.

He stiffened, quickly stubbing out the cigarette, his heart rate picking up. You were one of them, a Kook, from one of the mansions just a block away. He’d seen you before, always biking around town, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone.

He didn’t know you, didn’t even know your name, but he knew the type.

You saw him, too, and slowed your bike. His first thought was to get up and disappear back into the house, but he knew that would look suspicious. So he stayed put, trying to look casual, as if he belonged there.

You stopped a few feet away, still on your stupid bike, one foot on the ground to steady yourself.

“You live here?” You asked, not in a mean way, just curious.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he lied, “Why?”

You shrugged, “Just… didn’t think anyone did. Looks pretty empty.”

He tensed, waiting for you to say something like, “I’m going to tell someone,” or worse, to start asking more questions. But instead, you just gave him another curious look, nodded, and biked away.

Weird girl.

The next day, you were back. This time, you had a bag with you. He watched you approach, wary. You stopped in front of the house and took something out of the bag — a sandwich, wrapped in paper, and a bottle of water.

You held them out to him, a gentle smile on your face, “Figured you might be hungry.”

He thought maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better, some Kook guilt thing, like feeding the stray cat in the alley so you could pat yourself on the back for being such a nice person.

And he hated that. Hated you for even thinking he needed your stupid charity. So he gave you every reason to leave him alone.

When you handed him that sandwich, he barely even looked at you.

He just grabbed it and then turned his back, heading into the house without another word. But the next day, you were there again. And the next.

He started making it obvious he didn’t want you around. He’d grunt when you said hello, roll his eyes when you tried to make small talk.

One time, you offered him an apple, and he snatched it out of your hand without a word, just to see if you’d get annoyed enough to leave. You didn’t. Like some fucking saint.

Instead, you kept coming back, like some sort of annoying, persistent fly he couldn’t swat away. Every time, your smile was a little nicer, your eyes a little more curious.

He didn't get it. Why the hell were you still trying? Didn’t you get it? He didn’t want you here. Didn’t want to talk to you. Didn’t need shit from a Kook.

“What’s your problem?” he muttered one day when you showed up with a bag of groceries.

You blinked, “What do you mean?”

“You keep coming back here like I asked you to. I didn’t. I don’t need your charity.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, still not leaving. “I’m not doing charity. I jut figured you could use a little help.”

He scoffed, turning his back on you again. “I don’t need anything from you, princess.”

You hesitated, then placed the bag on the steps anyway. “Well, it’s here if you do.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes again. “Great. Another pity gift from the rich kid. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You clenched your jaw, but still didn’t leave. He expected you to finally get the hint, but you just shook your head and walked away.

The next day, you there you were. And the day after that. Always bringing something, always with that same annoying, stubborn smile.

By the end of the week, he was done. You rolled up with another bag, and before you could even open your mouth, he let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. 

"For fuck’s sake, don’t you have anything better to do than bother me every damn day?”

That was it — you snapped.

Your eyes flared, and you stepped in closer, voice getting louder. "Will you just eat the damn food before I throw it in your face?" You shouted, cheeks going red with frustration.

He blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t expect you to clap back.

You’d been silent and too sweet for his liking. Most Kooks would’ve run back to their fancy houses by now, but you were still standing your ground, fists clenched, breathing heavy. Cute.

He almost laughed. Almost. “What’s your deal? You think you’re some kind of hero bringing food to the poor pogue? You think you're gon' save me or something?”

You glared at him “I’m not trying to save you, jerk! I’m just trying to be a decent human! Maybe you should try it sometime!”

He stared at you, face set in a deadpan, but he felt something— something he hadn’t felt in a while. Respect, maybe? But for some reason, he didn’t tell you to get lost.

Instead, he snatched the bag out of your dainty small hand. “Fine. I’ll eat your stupid food. But don’t think this changes anything,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Oh, trust me, I don’t.”

You both stood there in this weird silence for a minute, glaring at each other. Then you shook your head, and smiled like you hadn’t read him to filth ten seconds ago. “See you tomorrow, Rafe.”

What? You knew his name?

He watched as you rode away and he realized he was grinning, just a bit. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel completely alone.

And somehow, that pissed him off even more.

Days turned into weeks, and you kept showing up, like a plague.

No matter how much Rafe grumbled, no matter how many times he rolled his eyes or muttered under his breath, you just kept coming back. It was always something small — fruit, a bottle of water, a warm meal in a container. Every time you showed up, you had that same stubborn look in your eyes, like you weren’t going to back down no matter how much he pushed you away.

He hated to admit it, but he started to look forward to your little visits. He hated even more that he noticed things about you. Like how your hair fell in your face when you leaned over to hand him something or how your laugh sounded when he said something sarcastic. He noticed the way you seemed to care, even when he made it clear he didn’t want you to.

One day, you showed up with a duffel bag. Rafe looked at you suspiciously as you parked your bike and slung the bag over your shoulder.

“What now?” he grunted, eyeing the bag like it might bite him.

He could tell you were nervous and that weirded him out even more. Since when could he read your mind? 

“I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come to my house. Just to shower and get some real rest. My parents are out of town, and y’know, you could use it.”

He stared at you like you’d grown another head. “You want me to come to your house?”

You nodded, looking a little unsure now, hands tightening around the bag’s strap, “Yeah. Just for a bit. I thought you might like a break from this place.”

He scoffed. “And why the hell would I want to do that? You think I’m gonna be some charity case you can parade around to make yourself feel good?”

You sighed, clearly getting frustrated. “No, Rafe. I just thought… I just thought you might want a hot shower. But if you don’t, that’s fine.”

He usually cleaned himself up near the docks, but the water was freezing during this time of the year. Every time it felt like his balls were going to drop to the floor. So yeah, a hot shower in a big mansion sounded tempting.

Even if he didn’t want to give you that satisfaction.

A hot shower… a real bed, even for a little while. He hadn’t had that in what felt like forever. He looked at you again, trying to figure out if this was some kind of sick twisted plan, but all he saw were those stupid glowing eyes staring him down like he’d be dumb to refuse you. 

“Fine,” he muttered, standing up. “But just for a shower. And if you try anything weird, ’m outta there.”

Your nose scrunched up, “As if.”

Your house was everything he expected from a Kook — big, clean, and way too fancy. He felt out of place the moment he stepped through the gigantic door, like he was tracking mud on a white carpet. You led him upstairs, pointing out the bathroom.

“You can use this one. Towels are in the cabinet, and I’ll leave some clothes outside if you want them.”

Rafe grunted in response, still unsure why he was even there. He went into the bathroom and locked the door, leaning against it for a moment. The place smelled like lavender or some other fancy soap he couldn’t name. He turned on the shower, and the hot water poured out instantly, filling the room with steam.

He stripped off his dirty clothes and stepped under the water, hissing as the heat hit his skin. But then he relaxed, letting the water wash away the grime, the salt, the exhaustion he’d been carrying for so long. He stayed under the spray longer than he should have, almost losing track of time.

When he finally got out, he saw the clothes you’d left outside the door — a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, nothing flashy, but clean. He put them on and headed back downstairs, finding you in the kitchen, making coffee.

You looked up when he entered, “Feel better?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

You handed him a cup of coffee, and he took it reluctantly, still waiting for the catch. But you just sat across from him at the kitchen island, sipping your own cup, not saying anything.

He found himself watching you, noticing the little things again.

The way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the way your fingers tapped against the mug when you were thinking. He hated that he was noticing, hated that he found any of it interesting. He took a sip of the coffee and scowled when it tasted good, because of course it did.

“You do this shit for everyone?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked at him, “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured around. “Invite random guys to your house, make them coffee, act like you care.”

You laughed, a light sound that made his chest feel weird. “No. Just you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just looked away, taking another sip of coffee. He didn’t do nice. He wasn’t used to nice. This was weird.

You kept doing these little things for him — small acts of kindness he didn’t ask for and definitely didn’t deserve. You’d leave extra food by the house when you knew he’d be there, sometimes even a blanket or a pillow you said you didn’t need. You’d offer to let him use the house again, and every once in a while, he’d accept, hating how much he craved the simple comfort of a shower or a bed.

And all the while, he stayed the same — gruff, sarcastic, always trying to push you away with his attitude. But you didn’t go. You took his crap and came back.

One night, after a particularly rough day where everything seemed to go wrong, he found himself standing outside your house again. Your parents were out of town again, and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He hated that he was here, hated that he needed this, but he knocked anyway.

You opened the door, your face lit up with that familiar smile. “Rafe,” you said, voice warm. “Come in.”

He liked the way his name sounded on your lips.

He hesitated, but he did. You led him to the living room, and he noticed a few things this time — the family photos on the walls, a vase of flowers on the table, the soft throw blanket on the couch.

Your home was nothing like his, but it felt… safe.

They sat in silence for a while, and he noticed how you didn’t bother him with questions, didn’t try to fix anything. You just sat there, close but not too close, letting him breathe. He found himself looking at you more, catching the way your lips curled up at the corners, how your eyes seemed to soften whenever they landed on him. He felt something strange, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He sat on that big couch, staring at his busted-up hands, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest. You were just a few feet away, eyes flicking over to him now and then, like you were waiting for him to speak. But he didn’t know what to say.

He felt… uncomfortable. Not because of the place, or you. No, never because of you. But because of this strange feeling that kept crawling up his spine, making him feel restless.

You were sitting on the arm of the chair, legs tucked under you, looking at him with that familiar, gentle expression that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t such a screw-up. He didn’t know what to do with that. You were the kind of girl who should have nothing to do with him. Yet here you were, again and again, showing up, like you didn’t know any better.

He cleared his throat, trying to push back whatever weird tension was building between you. “So… your parents,” he muttered. “They’re out of town a lot?”

You nodded, sighing, “Yeah. They travel for work. I’m used to it.”

“Must be nice,” he said, but his voice came out rougher than what he was going for. He didn’t know how to do gentle and he was still half-convinced you were going to kick him out or tell him you had enough of his crap.

“Sometimes,” you replied, “But it gets lonely, too.”

He wasn’t expecting that. He glanced at you trying to read you. He knew you weren’t looking for sympathy; you were just stating a fact.

He wasn’t sure what made him ask, but he did anyway. “Why do you keep helping me?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I— I don’t know. I guess… I just see something in you. Something good.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “There’s nothin' good in me.”

“There is,” you insisted. “I see it. Even if you don’t.”

He felt his chest tighten, and he had to look away. “You’re wrong.”

“Maybe,” you said quietly, “but I don’t think so.”

He feel your eyes on him, could feel the way his pulse was racing under his skin. He hated it. Hated that he wanted to believe you, wanted to feel whatever it was you seemed to see in him.

“You’re too good,” he muttered. “Too good for someone like me.”

You laughed softly. “You don’t know me as well as you think, Rafe.”

He glanced up, surprised by the boldness in you. You were so soft most days it always threw him off when you took the reins. You were closer now, leaning forward just slightly, eyes fixed on his. He felt that breathtaking tension tightening again.

Before he could think better of it, he spoke, voice coming out meeker than what he was going for, “You really think there’s somethin' good in me?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of him for a second, “Yeah, I do.”

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what possessed him, but before he could stop himself, he reached out, his hand finding yours. You didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch in fear or scrunched up your nose in disgust.

Instead, your fingers tightened around his, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Why?” he asked again, desperate.

 “Because I just do.”

Something snapped in him then, something he’d been holding back for too long. He moved closer, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your delicate skin. You didn’t pull away again, only leaning into his touch. 

He hesitated, just for a moment. “I’m not— I-I’m not a good guy,” he murmured.

You smiled again, softer this time, the way he hoped you only did for him, “I don’t need you to be.”

He didn’t get it, but he didn’t have time to figure it out.

He leaned in and kissed you. It was clumsy at first — just a touch of lips, a bit hesitant. But then you kissed him back and suddenly he understood those stupid cliché novels his mom used to read when he was younger. He’d never kissed anyone before. 

He was too aware of how inexperienced they both were, of the way his lips barely brushed against yours. He felt stiff and unsure, like he didn’t know if he was doing it right. But it felt right. It wasn’t smooth or perfect — there was hesitancy and uncertainty, but it was real. He felt your hand touch his cheek, your fingers warm and trembling just a little.

His hand slid from your cheek down to your neck, pulling you closer, fingers curling into your hair. He couldn’t get enough. It was messy, frantic, his heart racing like it was trying to break out of his chest, and for once, he didn’t care. He felt your breath hitch against his lips, the warmth of you pressing into him, and all the walls he’d built up, all the reasons he’d given himself to push you away, disappeared. 

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his old shirt like you didn’t want to let go, and that did something to him. Made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Every time he kissed you, it was like he was drowning in you, like nothing else mattered except for this — your lips, your skin, the way your body pressed against his.

He pulled away, just for a second, eyes wide and breathing heavy, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

He looked at you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and wet from the kiss, and damn, you looked beautiful. More beautiful than he ever let himself admit before.

But then you smiled, that same heart-shattering smile, and it was like you were pulling him back in, “You don’t have to be afraid,” you whispered.

“I’m not…” he started, but even he didn’t believe it. Because he was. He was terrified as hell of this, of you, of the way you made him feel like he wasn’t a complete mess. But before he could say more, you kissed him again, and this time, he didn’t hold back.

He didn’t think about what he should or shouldn’t be doing, didn’t overanalyze the way his hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left between you. You melted into him, your body warm and soft, like you belonged there and he felt like he was burning up from the inside out.

His hands roamed, exploring, memorizing the curve of your waist, the way your body fit so perfectly against his. Every little sound you made, every breathless gasp, made him feel like he was on fire.

You broke apart again, both of you panting, and he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

“This is crazy,” he muttered, his voice all shaky.

You giggled, the sound making his chest tighten in the best way.

“Maybe. But I don’t care.”

He opened his eyes, staring into yours, and he knew you meant it.

You didn’t care about the Kook vs. Pogue thing, about the stupid rules that had been drilled into them from birth. You just cared about him. He didn’t know how to let himself want something good, something real. But he wanted you. God, did he want you.

From that night on, everything changed. 

You started seeing each other in secret, meeting up when your parents were out of town or sneaking off to some hidden spot by the beach at night where no one would find you. Every time he saw you, it was like a high he couldn’t get enough of. You’d kiss, talk, hold each other like you were the only two people in the world, and he’d forget about all the shit in his life. Forget about the fact that he was supposed to be a screw-up who didn’t deserve someone like you.

You sat side by side at the dock, feet dangling just above the water, the tips of your shoes barely touching the surface. Something was calming about the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the dock, the world feeling small and distant for once, like it was just the two of you.

He leaned back on his hands, staring out at the horizon, not saying much. He’d been quiet today, more so than usual. You nudged him lightly with your shoulder.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorted, shaking his head slightly. “You don’t want ‘em. They’re not worth much.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him again. “C’mon. You’ve been quiet all day. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He hesitated, glancing down at the water, his fingers curling into the wood of the dock. He was biting back whatever was eating at him. He wasn’t the type to open up easily, you knew that, but he wanted to, for you. You wanted to know him, all of him, not just the fake exterior he put up for everyone else to see.

“You ever think about… like, how different your life would be if shit didn’t go so sideways?” he asked, his voice low, almost like he wasn’t sure he wanted to say it out loud.

You frowned, turning to face him, “What do you mean?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

“My mom, she… she used to date these losers. Real pieces of shit, y’know? Guys who’d roll through, thinking they owned the place, treating me like I was some kind of burden just because I was around.”

It wasn’t easy for him to say it, but he was doing it anyway, like the words had been stuck inside him for years.

“She didn’t really care what they did. As long as they paid for her booze, she was cool with whatever. They’d knock me around sometimes, tell me I wasn’t worth shit. But she never did anything about it.” He paused, swallowing hard, his gaze fixed on the water because he couldn’t look at you. “One of ‘em got real bad. Fucker hit me so hard one night, I thought I was gonna pass out. And when I told her… she didn’t care. Told me I was a liar. Said I probably deserved it.”

“Rafe…” you whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He didn’t pull away this time, just let you hold it, his fingers squeezing yours a little too tightly.

“I tried to stick it out,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Tried to stay for as long as I could. But one day, she kicked me out. Told me I was too much trouble, and she didn’t need me around anymore.” He laughed, but it was hollow, bitter. “I guess I wasn’t worth the space I took up.”

You were quiet. He liked that about you, that you didn’t try and get his thoughts out of his head, just let him do his thing, on his own time. There was nothing that could make up for the kind of pain he’d been through. You just squeezed his hand tighter, and he just knew you wished you could take some weight off his shoulders.

“That’s why you were in that house?” You brushed your lips against his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was hard for him to talk about this stuff. Hell, it was hard for him to talk at all when it came to anything real. You just sat there, holding his hand, being there. That was what made you different. Most people didn’t wait for him. They’d get frustrated, give up, move on.

You just... stayed. And that scared him almost as much as it comforted him.

“You didn’t deserve that.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

You shifted closer, your knees touching his now. “It matters to me.”

He didn’t understand how you could look at him like that, like he was worth something.

“You knew my name.”

You nodded, “You delivered fresh seafood to the house once.”

His eyes nearly popped out from their sockets, “I was fourteen.”

“Yeah?”

“And you remembered that?”

Your brows shot up like he’d said the dumbest thing ever. “Obviously.”

His breath caught, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, pulling you into his lap. His hands found your waist, desperate, almost frantic, holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"You shouldn’t—" he started, but the words died on his lips because you were already kissing him, and it was like everything stopped. The world, his thoughts, all the shit that weighed him down. It was just you, your lips, the way your hands tangled in his hair, and the soft sounds you made against his mouth.

He kissed you harder, more urgently, like he was trying to prove something to himself — that he could have this, that he could deserve this. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His lips moved against yours and he felt like he was falling apart and putting himself back together all at once.

When he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his chest was heaving, and you were looking at him with that same softness that made his stomach twist.

"How—How the hell did I get this lucky?" His voice cracked, just a little. He hadn’t meant to say it, but the words spilled out anyway. 

You smiled, brushing your thumb across his cheek, and he realized then that his face was wet. He hadn’t even noticed the tears slipping down, hadn’t noticed the way he was trembling.

"You deserve this" you whispered. 

That was it.

That was the breaking point. A choked sob escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he crashed his lips against yours again, kissing you so hard it hurt, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t hold back the way he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. For you.

His hands cupped your face, fingers trembling as he kissed you again and again, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he stopped. 

And as his tears mixed with your kiss, he realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn’t running.

He wasn’t pushing you away. He was falling, hard and fast, and he didn’t care. Because for once, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 1)

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: language, high-quality banter

words: 2.7k

Summary: You freshly moved to San Diego and were in desperate need for a job. That's how you wandered into the Hard Deck, following the "Help Wanted" sign in the window. Not only is it your first time working in a bar, the crowd it hosts is also very new to you and one navy pilot in particular managed to get under your skin quite qickly...

a/n: I've started working on this story back in November 2023 and haven't touched it since February 2024. I'm halfway through the main story line but I'm kinda stuck. I hope showing you guys gets the wheels working again. Feedback is much appreciated!!

Link to my masterlist

“Hello?”, you asked as you entered the bar. It was a big room with a round bar counter in the middle of it. Tables and booths were spread across the space and hundreds of beer mugs were hanging from the ceiling. But besides that, the room was empty.

“Hello?”, you called out again, a little louder this time. An older man came through a door to your left, a dish towel hanging over his right shoulder and a trey of empty glasses in his hands. “Oh, hey there”, he said as he laid eyes on you. “Hi. I saw the ‘Help wanted’ sign outside”, you explained your early visit to the establishment, pointing towards the door.

“Penny!”, he called out. “Oh no, my name is Y/N”, you corrected him. “Penny’s the boss, darling”, he said and walked past you with a grandfatherly smile to put the trey on the bar counter.

“Sorry”, you said and felt your cheeks burning up. Great first impression, you thought to yourself with embarrassment. “What is it, Jimmy?”, a tall brunette came out of the same door the man had just appeared from. “This girl’s here for the job”, Jimmy told his boss and pointed at you before he started putting away the glasses under the bar.

“Hi”, you said to her when she looked at you. “Penny”, she said and extended her hand with a smile. “Y/N”, you replied as you shook it. “Come with me to my office, I got a few minutes”, Penny said and led you to a booth nearby.

“So, you want to work at a bar?”, she opened the impromptu job interview. “Ehm, yes”, you said and it came out like a question. “Have you ever worked at a bar?”, she asked further. “No, but I learn really quickly and I’m good with people”, you hastily explained. “Tell me a bit about yourself”, Penny continued with a warm smile.

“I just moved here from New Jersey. Two days ago, actually. I’m a hard worker and I really need the job to pay rent, so you can be sure I’ll show up every day super motivated”, you told her and tried to cover your anxiety with humor like you always did.

“This bar is the hot spot for the naval base her in North Island, so a lot of guys with all sorts of ego and authority issues. You’re sure you can handle that?”, she asked and narrowed her eyes a little bit. “I had all kinds of jobs dealing with difficult people”, you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m confident about handling a bunch of drunk guys”, you continued.

Penny looked at you in silence, contemplating your words. “Alright, let’s try it”, she finally said after what felt like forever. “Really?”, you asked surprised. “Yes. We are closed on Mondays, so you’ll have to work every day for the rest of the week. We’ll talk again after your first weekend shift, they’re our busiest nights. If I’m happy with your work and you’ll like it, too, we’ll see where we go from there”, she explained to you and a big smile formed on your face. You shook her extended hand, sealing the verbal contract.

“Jimmy will show you anything. We open at five”, she said and scooted out of the booth and led you over to the bar circle. That was in three hours, you noticed as you looked at the big clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. Suddenly you became very nervous. Somehow you hadn’t thought that you would be working the same day.

She formally introduced you to Jimmy, the other bartender that was working here and that Penny got along with the bar she had purchased three years ago.

“Disrespect a lady, the navy or put your cellphone on my bar – you buy a round. These are the three golden rules in this bar”, she said as she recited the plaque that was hanging in the middle of the bar circle on the middle counter. “If anyone disobeys the rules, we ring the bell”, she continued and reached her hand out and rang a big bell that was hanging from the ceiling and the loud noise rang through the empty bar. “And then what?”, you asked a bit irritated. “Then they have to buy a round for the whole place”, she answered your question with a smile that let you know that she liked it when that happened.

“Wow, that sounds expensive when the bar is full, right?”, you asked. “It is and therefore the rules shall not be broken”, Jimmy chimed in and a deep chuckle escaped his lips. You had to chuckle, too, at his words. “And if they can’t pay, it’s Overboard”, he added and winked at you. “They get thrown out”, Penny answered your inaudible question as you raised your eyebrows. “Okay”, you said and it sounded like a question. “Just wait for it, you’re gonna love it”, Jimmy told you and knocked on the bar counter.

“Okay, I’m gonna leave you two for now. Jimmy, you’re gonna take good care of our new girl”, Penny said and walked out behind the bar. “Sure thing, boss”, he promised with a nod. “We’ll take care of the paper work tomorrow”, she said to you before she left through the door again.

Jimmy spent the rest of the time until opening to give you the basic instructions on how to pour the most common drinks, work the register and running tabs.

Your first ever shift in a bar, you spent mostly handing out drinks that Penny or Jimmy had prepared, opening bottles of beer and cleaning up the empty glasses off the tables. Before you knew it, Penny called out the last call of the night and sent you home as you had finished cleaning up.

Your feet hurt like hell and your back was killing you when you fell into bed but you were happy that you had found a job. Penny and Jimmy seemed nice and you were sure you would get the hang of the whole bartender thing.

Two days later you worked your first Thursday, which according to Penny, would be your first busy night. You had the basics somewhat down but you were still nervous about the evening rush.

You had just started your shift and always spent the first hour restocking the bar, checking the register and wiping down the counter one more time.

When Penny opened the doors at 5 PM a few people already started to come in but thankfully it was still slow going. Penny went back to her little back-room office at the end of the little corridor where you would also find the storage room and the restrooms for the guests.

You were at the bar alone and spent your time cutting some limes. A man sat down at the bar, putting his phone on the counter. “Hi, what can I get you?”, you asked him as you noticed your new customer and wiped your hands on your apron. “A Whiskey please”, he said and gave you a friendly smile. He looked a bit older, maybe in his early fifties? But he still looked very good.

You nodded and grabbed a tumbler from under the bar. Then you turned around and looked at the dozen liquor bottles behind you. You had no clue what a Whiskey bottle looked like.

“Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey”, you mumbled to yourself under your breath. Or so you thought.

“On the far right”, you heard behind you. When you looked over your shoulder, the man pointed at the right end of the line of liquor bottles. You smiled apologetically and walked over. You still didn’t reach for a bottle immediately. “Second from the right”, he added and you finally found the right bottle.

“Thank you”, you told him with an apologetic smile and felt your cheeks getting warm. You were sure they were turning a red color as you filled his glass about an inch tall.

“I’m still new”, you explained your incompetence for fulfilling a simple drink order. “They often keep them in alphabetical order”, he told you and winked at you almost in a fatherly manner, like he had shared a secret to life with you. And in your current situation, he really did.

You turned around and looked at the bottles from left to right. “Huh, she really did. Thank you”, you said to him when you turned back around. “I’ll pretend I didn’t just notice that after three days of working here”, you told him and made it sound like you were sharing a secret with him, too. He chuckled into his glass before he took a sip. His phone buzzed and when he picked it up, he turned away from you to answer a text.

You turned around as well and took a look at the line of liquor bottles, trying to memorize their order. “Y/N, can you get this in the back and bring the next case of beer?”, Penny asked of you as she appeared in the circle. “Yeah sure”, you agreed and took the empty box from her hands.

“You gotta be kidding me”, you heard her say and thought she was talking to you, but when you looked up, you saw her staring at the man with the Whiskey.

“Pete”, she said. The man looked up and turned back around. “Penny?”, he asked, clearly surprised to see her here. And yet this one word carried so much, you felt like you shouldn’t be here.

“I’ll get the beer”, you excused yourself and left the two to themselves. Before you finally left the room, you turned around at the door and saw how they looked at each other. There was definitely some history there. You bit your lip to hide a smile and finally left for the storage room.

When the evening rush hit, you were overwhelmed by the number of orders coming from every side. Damn circle. The three of you tried to handle every order as fast as you could. Penny and Jimmy had a certain ease to them, moving quickly but without haste. You on the other hand ran around like a startled chicken, always bumping into Penny and Jimmy and seemingly always being in their way.

“Here you go”, you said as you handed three bottles of beer to a man, putting the money in the register, already receiving the next order from a woman to your left.

A blonde man in a khaki navy uniform appeared through the crowd, commanding his place at the front of the line. “Three beers”, he said. “Just a moment”, you told him and bent down to grab the tall beer glasses for beers from tap and walking over to the middle of the circle to fill them up.

“Come on, I ain’t got all night”, he said with an annoyed tone in his voice after just a few seconds of waiting. “I’ll be right there”, you told him again, sounding more and more desperate.

You didn’t pay him any more attention as you were in the middle of drawing a beer but he suddenly appeared again in the corner of your eye. When you looked over, you found him behind the bar, just grabbing three beers out of the cooler and prying the caps off with the metal opener. “Hey!”, you called out, putting down the glass you were holding. “Put them on my tab”, he just said and walked in front of the bar again.

"I don't even know who you are", you said surprised by his cockiness. "Name's Hangman. And you gotta be quicker if you wanna earn some tips, sweetheart", he said and winked at you. "And you will never drink here again if I ever catch you behind my bar again", Penny said as she appeared behind you, handing two tumblers with a brown liquid to another guy at the counter. "Your girl needs to be faster if she doesn't wanna start a riot", he said with a southern accent and a cocky expression on his face before he turned around and disappeared in the crowd. You noticed him coming back out at the dartboard as you couldn’t stop looking at him. His boldness fascinated and angered you to no end.

“Hangman…is he for real?”, you asked Penny when you turned around again. “That’s his call sign as a pilot. They all got one”, she explained to you as she added the drinks to his tab. “Most of them go by their call sign even outside of base”, she continued. “His real name is Jake”, she added, all while keep preparing drinks and handing them out. With a cock of her head, she motioned you to open some beers and she handed them out.

"You can't let them walk over you like that, you need to command your space. And your space right now is this bar", she told you. Normally you weren't too shy to talk back, but since you were new, you still needed to test the waters. But you took this as Penny's permission to be a bit mouthier to customers if needed.

You looked over at the dartboard where Hangman played with another guy in Khaki uniform. “Jake”, you mumbled his real name under your breath. And just like he had heard you, he looked over to you, winked and threw the dart into bulls eyes while still looking at you. He probably expected you to be impressed or swoon, but instead you rolled your eyes so hard at him that you feared they would get stuck.

A little while later, when the rush was over and you had time and room to breathe, Hangman and two of his buddies came over for another round. "Three beers, sweetheart. And don't make me come back there again", he said and gave you another wink, paired with a sly smile. It took everything you had not to pull a face of disgust.

Pretty boys like him always thought they owned the world. You learned quite early on that guys like him never even looked your way, let alone were interested in you. And because of that you learned to push down any interest you might have in them and cover it with sarcasm and wit.

Instead of an answer, you opened three bottles and placed them from right to left, Hangman being the last. "8,50. 8,50. 12 Dollars", you said as you placed the beers in front of the men. "Hey, why's mine more expensive?", Hangman asked with knitted eyebrows. "Douchebag tax. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him and now it was your turn to shoot him a cocky grin while you collected the money from his friends.

“You wanna pay cash or want me to put it on your tab?”, you asked him, an image of innocence. He looked at you a bit stunned by your boldness. He probably wasn’t used to be spoken to like that.

"Come on, I ain't got all night", you told him and let him hear the impatience in your voice. “Put it on my tab”, he answered after a few moments, unsure what to make of your behavior and took a sip. You turned around and put his latest drink into the register.

“Anything else I can get you, gentlemen?”, you asked but looked only at his friends. They answered with a smile and a shake of their heads, seemingly enjoying the way you treated their friend and colleague.

The three of them kept sitting at the bar but you took care of other customers.

When Penny rang for last round, she served them their final beers of the night and closed their tabs as you started to collect the empty glasses from the tables.

Just as you walked past the dartboard with a full trey of empty glasses and bottles, Hangman took a step back and smashed into you. The glasses clinked together loudly but somehow you managed not to drop any of them. Your whole body stiffened until the glasses stopped shaking.

“Whoa, gotta be careful there. You don’t want 7 years of bad luck if you break them”, was his only comment. Not sorry for running into you because I’m too arrogant to be aware of my surroundings. “I already met you tonight, it can’t get any worse than that. Also, that’s mirrors not glasses”, you told him with an annoyed sigh and let the unspoken jerk hanging in the air as you walked back to the bar.

“Oh, we’re gonna have a lot of fun”, Hangman said to himself under his breath as he watched you walking away.

next chapter: Part 2

[trancylovecraft]

I've been thinking about the blood of an unwilling covenant constantly since I first read it and just wanted to tell you, also saw you mention that you probably weren't going to explain the situation with F/Ns parents in fic and wanted you to know I am VERY curious as to what their deal is

EGEGHJIRUGHRHGUI IM HAPPY TO HEAR THAT YOU ENJOYED THE FIC SM!!! I'll be happy to answer, Mostly because if I do a one-shot or smth on it, it may be a while-

AND I KINDA REALLY WANNA RAMBLE.

OK SO. Before I explain I suggest you read the translation of The Official Blue Exorcist Side Story: Bloody Fairytale. You can find a translation here done by @29rynoah which I have read sEVERAL times over. I highly recommend it as it's one of my favourite stories from AOEX.

However if you wanna skip that, Tis cool.

[F/N]'s mother is Maria LaMorte from Bloody Fairytale, Who had given birth to [F/N] during her imprisonment within The Vatican.

[F/N] herself is probably the oldest of the exwires, Her birthday being sometime within early January.

Now here's the million dollar question, Who is the father?

Shiro Fujimoto.

During the events of Bloody Fairy-tale- Maria is in the middle of completing her rather grandeur goal of trying to turn the town into naberius' and other adjacent creatures. Of course, This doesn't go to plan though, When Shiro and Johan show up unexpectedly within the invasion.

Maria of course, As the story goes, Plays the victim and pretends that she had no idea what's going on.

Shiro, Johan, Maria and the rest of the townspeople barricade in the church as normal. The story continues on however there's a switch in the story.

Shiro approaches Maria who is leaning over on the balcony. Of course, Shiro keeps up his demeanour, Already aware of Maria and her intentions. They get to talking and Maria herself is attracted to Shiro despite not recognising her own feelings.

Though, Maria herself DOES recognise seduction as a way of manipulating others.

So of course one thing leads to another and suddenly you have the both of them climbing out of the same makeshift bed. Maria came out of this with much more complicated feelings than she had thought she'd have.

But on the other hand?

Shiro himself is at the point in his life where he's much more dark and gritty than the one we see raising the twins. This is an average thing for him, He's a player, He sleeps with women left and right. He knew very well that this was an attempt to manipulate his feelings.

But to be honest? He doesn't care.

The story plays out like normal afterwards. Shiro exposes Maria's plan and she gets sent off to the Vatican for Life imprisonment. Shiro and Mephisto get in the car and they drive off as normal.

However this time, Maria comes out of it pregnant with [F/N].

She was born almost one year before The Blue Night within a holding cell in The Vatican. Her birth was completely unexpected from both the guards as well as Maria, Who was one of the rare cases of not showing at all during a pregnancy.

[F/N] was born fragile and weak, Both doctors and guards believing she would die soon after birth. And on records? That's how it went.

According to The Vatican, The baby died a few hours after being delivered. Shiro was told of the baby's existence while he was caring for the twins.

Of course, At this time he's a different person from who he was a year ago (Post-Blue Night) and now feels shocked and a bit of regret for not knowing of [F/N]'s existence.

However, There wasn't much he could do now.

The baby had died, He couldn't change that.

However despite what the records have said. Some of the staff that were employed to help deliver the child had sworn that they saw a tall man carrying away a baby in his arms. His identity unknown, Hidden by the darkness of the night.

[F/N] was left on the doorstep of the youth centre in Japan without a single note or any clue as to where she came from. The youth centre, After having no parents claim the child, Took her in and raised her within the adoption system.

It's still unclear where her penchant comes from, Though the leading theory is the mixture of demonic influence from both sides of her parents (Maria's being her association with undead demons, Specifically Kin of Astaroth. Shiro's being the fact that he's a clone as well as a bit of satanic influence lingering on him. So much so that in some aspects, You can consider [F/N] somewhat related to Satan in a sort of 3rd parent situation.)

Perhaps you can even consider her not entirely human. Though, That part is up for interpretation.

But as it stands? Her two birth parents are Maria LaMorte and Shiro Fujimoto.

-TML

[meetingthestarcatchers]

Crimson Lace (pt 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x fem!reader

Summary: You have trouble placing a finger on where you know him from, until he invites you in.

Warnings: nsfw (MDNI), angst if you squint

A/n: I honestly cannot thank you guys enough for the love on part 1! And I think I went a little overboard with the amount of words...oops?

Part 1

After that night, all of the glances in the hallways and in lectures ceased to exist. Whenever you tried to look at his face, he would never return the smiles and would avoid your eyes completely. You figured that it was just a one-time thing and that you shouldn’t have believed that it would lead to something more.

The alarm on your phone broke you from your sleep, and you moved locks of hair out of your face. You quickly realised that you had a lecture with him next and groaned. Getting changed, you pick up your bag with your laptop and necessities in, and head to the lecture hall.

You arrived a few minutes early and picked a seat a few rows from the front and set everything up. You heard the door open and looked over to see Jake walking in, his hair not tied up this morning, which made him look slightly angelic, you thought to yourself. He looked up and caught your eye.

You watched as he walked up the stairs, past you, and to the one above you. You weren't quite sure whether to speak to him or leave him be. The argument carried on in your head until it was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and saw a slight smile on his face.

"You wouldn't happen to have a charger, would you?" He asked, sounding hopeful, and you shook your head.

"I charge mine the night before, so no." You said either a slight sharpness in your voice. You go to turn back around, but he grabs your shoulder.

"I've been meaning to talk to you..." He said, and you raised your eyebrows. He opens his mouth to speak again but gets cut off by the professor.

"You'll all be glad to know that I've got your first project to assign to you." His voice rings out around the hall, and a few groans are heard.

"I'll be pairing you up with someone else in the class, and you'll have 2 weeks to do it." He starts to read out a few pairs from the sheet of paper until you hear your name.

"Y/n and Jake"

You feel your heart stop for a second, and you close your eyes in annoyance. You swore you heard a quiet chuckle come from behind you, reminding you of the laugh he let out during the stream.

The lecture passed fairly quickly, and you started packing up everything. You sensed Jake behind you as if he were waiting for you.

"Can I help you?" You asked without facing him.

"You got anything going on for the rest of the day?" He asked, and you thought for a second before lifting your bag up, facing him and shaking your head.

"Great. Neither have I. Let's get started on this project, shall we?" He said, and you went to cut in, but he stopped you.

"I also need to talk to you...please?" He said, almost begging, and you felt a familiar hot flush over your body. You rolled your eyes and nodded, watching his mouth form into a smile.

You walked together in silence until you reached an unfamiliar building. He reached for the door handle and pulled it open and stood to the side.

"Ladies first." He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but blush at his actions, completely forgetting that just over an hour ago, he was ignoring your existence. You stood awkwardly as you waited for him to shut the large door.

"You're going to have to lead the way" you said and he nodded and cocked his head to the side as a signal to follow him up the stairs. The pair of you soon reached a door where he pulled out his keys and unlocked it and walked inside.

You were met with a small kitchen with a wooden table in the middle, with four matching chairs surrounding it.

"My roommate isn't home so we can work out here or in my room if you want" he reached up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. You shrugged carelessly.

"Okay then" he mumbled and pulled out a chair to sit down. You followed suit and began researching and communicating how you were going to share the work. Soon enough, an hour had passed and you felt your stomach start to grumble quietly. It seemed as though Jake had the same problem as he stopped typing and sighed.

He stood up and reached out to stretch, walking over to the cupboards and sighing when he was met with emptiness.

"How do you feel about ordering something?" you heard and you lifted your head up from your hand to look at him.

"Yeah sure, like what?" you asked and he frowned and thought for a minute. "Fancy Olive Garden?" he suggested and your eyes widened.

"You're in university and you can afford Olive Garden?" you said and he shrugged.

"Well considering what I do..." he said and you realised and looked down at your work immediately, hearing a quiet chuckle coming from Jake.

"About that actually-" he started before you quickly stopped him.

"Can we order food and then talk about it?" you asked and he nodded, pulling out his phone. After a quick conversation over food orders, he walked back over to you and hesitantly picked up your hand to lead you to the couch.

You both sat down and silence filled the room. "Listen, about the other night..." he started and you smiled softly.

"I get if it was a mistake, I totally understand" you said and he looked at you confused.

"A mistake? It wasn't a mistake, I meant to say those things" he replied and now it was your turn to look confused.

"But why wouldn't you look at me in the corridors? Or at least try to talk to me?" you asked curiously and he sighed and looked down at the sofa, picking at a thread coming undone.

He shrugged. "Some people know what I do, I figured if I didn't talk to you then no one would realise that it was you online. Thought I was doing what was best." he shrugged again. Your mind was running miles per hour as you were understanding what he had just told you.

"Trust me, I wanted to talk to you. Desperately. I just didn't know how" he looked up at your face to see your reaction.

"At least I know it wasn't a mistake now..." you said quietly. You watched him nod along out of your peripheral vision. Finally looking up, you speak again.

"Could you maybe...show me...that it wasn't an accident?" you asked, feeling vulnerable and Jake's eyes went round at your request. He nodded eagerly but quickly pulled you back onto the couch.

"I don't want to rush things" he said smiling softly and you nodded in understanding. You watched as he brought his hand up to rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin gently. He muttered a few things under his breath but none of them were heard by you.

Within a split second you feel Jake's lips press against yours. Your breath hitches for a second before you relax into the kiss and return the action. You bring one of your hands to rest on his neck, and the other on his chest, just above his heart. You giggle slightly at the feeling of his racing heart, beating quickly under your palm. He pulls away confused.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, and you nod, your laughs subsiding.

"Your heart is beating a little faster than it should be" you say and he lets out a sigh of relief.

"You had me worrying I was doing something wrong" he replied and you shook your head. "I was rather enjoying it actually" you responded.

He pulled you in for another kiss and you could feel his lips curl up into a smile. You could feel your stomach tying itself up in knots at the simple action, bringing your other hand that was resting on his chest up to his neck as well.

You continued to make out until a slam of a door echoed from the room above. Pulling away quickly, you tilted your head back and felt Jake pull you towards him a little more by the waist.

"No one's gonna interrupt us, right?" you asked cautiously and he shook his head.

"My roommate always stays at his partner's dorm on Wednesday nights so there's no need to worry, sweetheart" he told you, his voice almost like honey which made your stomach flutter once again.

"Do you want to go to my room, maybe?" he asked nervously and you nodded, feeling confident enough. He picked up your hand and led you down the corridor and to his room.

Upon opening the door, strip lights filled the room with a soft blue hue. His bed was in the corner, surrounded by posters and photos of who you presumed were his family. He walked over towards it and sat down on the bed, a quiet creak following.

"Come on, sweet girl..." He said, signalling for you to come closer to him, and you found your feet moving by themselves towards him. As you got nearer to him, you smelt his cologne that had hints of wood and coffee. "There she is...so pretty for me" he commented and you blushed furiously.

He brought his hands up to rest on your waist and pressed a light kiss to your stomach before looking up at you with his gorgeous brown eyes. You smiled down at him before running a hand through his long hair and then moved to sit down next to him and he smiled at you softly.

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly and you nodded truthfully and the next thing you knew, you were lying down on his bed, your head resting on the soft pillow.

"Can I take these off?" he questioned and a small whine escaped your throat. He smirked at the noise and unbuttoned your trousers, pulling them down teasingly.

"Patience sweet girl" he muttered and kissed the top of your thighs while he threw the piece of clothing onto the floor, resulting in a soft thud. You watched as he slipped his fingers under your panties and looked at you for confirmation. You nodded and he slipped those off as well.

Jake moaned as he kissed your swollen clit lightly before swirling his tongue over it, taking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your head fell back in pleasure before he glided his tongue down and licked into your pussy. He rubbed his middle finger and ring finger through your folds wetting them with your slick before curling his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot and making you moan out. Your eyes closed as your hips moved against his fingers.

"You gonna cum baby? Squeezing me so good..." he mumbled before going back to his previous actions.

Soon enough, that coil in your stomach snapped and you came all over his fingers. He continued moving his fingers, letting you ride out your high as he moved up and crashed his lips to yours as you moaned, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He slowed his actions and pulled back, looking at your face, still contorted with pleasure.

"You're so beautiful..." he spoke quietly and you grinned but quickly groaned when you felt him remove his fingers from inside you. You could feel his hard-on through his jeans, pressed into your thigh and you brought your hand down to palm him but he stopped you. You frowned and he simply smiled and kissed your hand instead.

"Not today." he replied, seeing the confusion on your face. "Today was just about you." You felt your heart warm at his words, and leaned up to kiss him. He grinned and kissed you back.

"Looks like we'll have to finish researching another day. Could I have your number?" He asked, his cheek turning red even in the blue-lit room and you nodded.

After exchanging numbers, you quickly pulled your underwear and trousers up, walked back out into the kitchen, and started packing your things away. Jake watched you carefully before opening the front door and giving you a quick kiss.

"I'll text you, okay?" he said and you smiled and nodded.

"I'll be waiting" you answered, walking out and back to your own dorm. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling widely and squealing in excitement once you arrived at your room.

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

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[99hook]

stargazing

tyler surprises you with a spur of the moment night under the stars

———

The restaurant was packed when the two of you arrived, and even though it was nearly thirty degrees, you requested a table outside.

Tyler thought it was because there were too many people, he suggested that you two go somewhere a little less crowded, but he quickly realized the reason why you didn’t want to be in the restaurant once the two of you took a seat at your table.

He watched with an amused grin as you stared up at the sky. All the stars blanketing it was a rare sight in the midst of the city. He paid attention to the way your eyes lingered from one corner of the large sky to the next, just admiring all the little diamonds dancing above you.

“Hey” He whispers as he places his hand over yours. “Let’s take our food to go.”

You looked back at him confused, but he only closed the menu and waited for the waiter to come back.

“Why do you wanna leave so early? We just got here.”

“I thought of another place we can go.” He grins.

“Where?”

“It’s not gonna sound appealing if I tell you. Just trust me, okay?”

You still had questions of course, but you kept them to yourself and trusted the little gleam dancing in his eye instead.

Not long after, you found yourselves driving down a long, seemingly never ending road. The food you didn’t get to eat was sitting in your lap and by now you figured it would be as cold as it is outside.

“Where are we Tyler?” You asked as you looked out the window. All that passed you by were bundles of trees and the occasional random Dollar General.

“Middle of nowhere.” He smirks as he continues down the long road.

“I can see that.” You say. “Now my question is, why are we out in the middle of nowhere? This is how people get killed in the movies. You know that, right?”

He chuckled at your rambling and took your hand, keeping his eyes on the road as he placed a kiss to the back of it.

“Calm down mamas, nobody ever goes out here. I’m pretty sure we’re the only people for miles. Even a crazy killer wouldn’t wanna come this far out.”

“You’re definitely not helping my paranoia right now.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. A few moments later, he turns down a thin driveway. There’s a sign that says no trespassing in bold letters, and you turned to look at him when he drove right by it.

“I saw the sign.” He smirks before even having to hear you say something about it.

“Well then why are you still going?” You asked.

He ignored that and pulled into the middle of an open field. You looked around, couldn’t see much thanks to it being pitch dark outside.

When you looked back at him, he had his hand out waiting for you to take it. He placed another kiss to the top of it before he slid out the car and walked around to your door.

“What are we doing out here?” You asked for what felt like the tenth time in an hour. Despite the questions you still took his hand and let him lead you to the hood of his car.

He sat on it and patted the space next to him, and once you sat beside him, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you to lean back against the windshield.

“I thought you’d like this view even better.” He says, and then it all finally clicks with you. Looking up at the stars, it seemed like there were possibly an extra thousand of them than before. Some shining bright amongst the rest and others clustered together all around each other.

You felt your heart melt, and looked up at Tyler staring up at the night sky with a content smile.

He glanced down at you, his lips tipping up in a soft smile as he rubbed his thumb over your shoulder.

“I remember when you told me a long, long time ago that nobody ever wanted to sit out under the stars with you before” He says as he brings his eyes back to the sky.

“Yeah, you were the first person who ever did.” You smile fondly at the memory. It was so long ago, but still undoubtedly one of your favorite times with him.

“Yeah, and I also remember something else.”

“What?” You asked, and watched as he points over towards the left where there’s one star in particular shining bright amongst the others.

“That” He says before he looks down at you. You kept your eyes on that specific star, a smile slipping upon your lips when you remembered the two of you claiming it as your star.

“Anywhere we are in the world-“ he whispers.

“All we have to do is look up at that star, and know that it’s always ours” You whispered back, looking up at him with a tearful gaze.

He nods, his smile slowly slipping when the lighthearted moment morphs into something so much more.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb grazes over the one single tear that you hoped would be discreet enough that he wouldn’t notice it.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, his eyes scanning each inch of your face out of pure concern, until you couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

Confusion washed over his face, rightfully so considering you seemed to be going through thirty emotions in thirty seconds, but you wrapped your hand around his wrist and leaned into his touch right after.

“I just love you.” You admitted, not for the first time but you know you meant it different this time. Every day you love him, but tonight that love had gotten deeper, even though you didn’t think that was even possible.

“You’re crying because you love me?” An unsure look in his eye gets paired with a slow smile.

“Yeah” You nodded. “I’m just, I’m really thankful for you Tyler. I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

His crooked smile melted away and a wide, gratuitous one took its place. His thumb stroked your cheek once more before he said, “I love you, and I’m gonna love you til that star falls out of the sky.”

“You do know that happens sometimes, right?” You chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t think that through all the way.” He shook his head before he leaned in and placed a tender, gentle kiss to your lips.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes driving so deeply into your own, until he couldn’t help but let them linger down to your lips once more.

“I’m gonna love you until all the stars fall out of the sky.” He says with a boyish grin. “I’m gonna love you forever, y/n. forever and after.” He whispers against your lips before he locks them together again.

[sweetprfct]

Written in the Stars

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are a believer in fate but after getting your heart broken, you had stopped believing it. Until you met Joe. Suddenly, it got you questioning if fate is real or not.

Author's Note: I think I'll publish two chapters at a time as I try to re-edit these parts. :)

Wordcount: 5.1K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

AUTUMN 2022.

“Sara, I’m getting off work a bit early. I’m stopping for pizza. Let me know if you want some.” You left that voicemail on Sara’s phone for the second time now. 

You were supposed to go out for drinks with your co-worker, Nicola, tonight but unfortunately, Nicola was out sick today due to a bad case of seasonal flu. So, there goes the Friday night plans that you two had. In all honesty, you were sort of glad that you weren’t able to go out tonight because the thought of having to go and change into a nice dress and fixing your hair and makeup was kind of making you feel exhausted. You stood in the middle of the busy and crowded subway car and checked your phone again.

No phone calls or messages back from Sara. 

Seriously, what was that girl doing? 

“Hey, I’m getting off the subway soon. I’ll just get you some dinner too, so I hope you haven’t had any yet. Also, please call me back. You’re starting to worry me now.” You left another voicemail for Sara before exiting the subway car once it arrived at your stop. 

You passed by one of the pizza shops near your apartment building and decided to go inside and order some dinner for you and Sara. As you waited, you checked your phone to see that there were still no messages back from Sara. You knew she left her bookshop café an hour ago, and she didn’t mention anything to you about having some plans for tonight. You were starting to get worried because the both of you usually communicated well with these things in order to keep a clear and relaxed mind for the both of you. Letting out a sigh, you took the two boxes of pizza from the counter and headed to your apartment building. 

You just hoped that Sara was taking a nap or something because it was just unusual for her to do this. Entering your apartment building, you stood inside the elevator, looking up at the ceiling, thinking how you were ready to get out of your work clothes and just sit and relax on the sofa, eat pizza, and watch your favorite show. Stepping inside your place, you saw how the lights were all dimmed, making you wonder why because you and Sara never dimmed your lights like this. Innocently thinking that maybe Sara just left it like this to try something new, you walked in your living room, and your eyes widened in shock. Immediately, you let out a scream from the scene that you just saw. 

“Ohmygod!” You covered your eyes with your hand and looked away. 

You did not just see a half naked man on your sofa. Sara immediately came from under him, also half naked, and yelled, “Ohmygod!”

Without even trying to say or do anything else, you quickly ran in your room, trying your best to look the other way and not see whatever was going on in your living room. You exhaled sharply, locking your door and setting the pizza boxes on your desk. You set your hand on top of your chest, breathing heavily. 

What the fuck?!

Your heart was beating so fast as you tried to process everything that you just saw. This was not the Friday night that you expected it to be. Not a few seconds later, you heard a knock on your door, and you hesitated to even open it. You didn’t want to see what was on the other side of it. You heard a second knock and you took a deep breath, covering your eyes with your one hand and opened the door, letting Sara in before quickly closing the door behind you. 

“I’m dressed.” Sara stated. 

You took a peek from behind your hand before dropping your arm completely on your side. You let out a sigh and saw Sara was playing with her fingers nervously.

“I’m sorry I didn’t—” Sara shook her head, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry I thought you were coming home late.”

“I—” You also tried to find the right words, still trying to erase the little show you saw in your living room from your mind. “Nicola was sick, so my plans got canceled— Is this why you haven’t answered your phone? Who is that guy?” 

“We met at the bookshop like four months ago.” Sara bit her lower lip. 

Your eyes widened in shock. You were just hearing and seeing news after news tonight. What did she mean she met him four months ago in the bookshop? Sara hasn’t mentioned anything about this nor have you seen that man in the bookshop at all. 

“We have gone out on dates and well, we kinda talked everyday and flirted…” Sara cleared her throat. “And I didn’t tell you because I thought this was just some stupid thing that wasn’t going anywhere, but now…”

You raised your brow at her. “...And now?”

“Now, we kind of made it official, and I wanted to bring him to meet you.” Sara explained. 

“Oh, okay. So, you decided that it was a good idea for me to meet him butt naked in our apartment?” 

“No!” Sara scratched her forehead. “I didn’t think you would be home early tonight. I was going to let you meet him tomorrow… with clothes on.”

You let out a soft chuckle as you shook your head and stared at your best friend for a moment, who was giving you her puppy dog eyes to forgive her.

“Well, the image of his bare ass is still glued into my brain.” You teased her.

“I know. I’m sorry! I didn’t—ugh!” Sara buried her face on the palm of her hands and shook her head in embarrassment, making you laugh softly. 

“Hey,” You laughed, taking her hands away from her face as Sara looked at you with flushed cheeks. “I’m kidding—Well, not really because it is technically still glued in my brain, but still. It’s okay. I understand.” 

“Really?” She kept her pout on her face.

“Really.” You laughed, “I have one question though… Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” You grinned, pulling her into an embrace. “Then, I’m really happy for you, and I hope he is treating you right. Don’t be like me.”

Sara chuckled softly. “He is. Um… We’ll move into my room.”

You shook your head and said, “You know what, do whatever you want. I’m gonna stay in my room for the rest of the night, eat my pizza and watch Friends.”

Sara’s jaw dropped on the floor, “You’re going to watch Friends without me?”

You gave her an evil smile as you shrugged, unlocking your door and opening it for her. 

“That’s so unfair. Just because I got caught.” Sara mumbled under her breath, walking out of your room.

“Oh, here take this.” You laughed as you handed her the other box of pizza. “You do whatever you want with that.” You teased her as Sara’s jaw dropped on the floor again, stunned by your joke before you closed the door behind you. 

You shook your head at the situation and went to freshen up before sliding yourself under your bed covers. Turning your TV on, you watched Friends and ate the pizza you bought for dinner. It had been a long day, and you surely didn’t expect what greeted you in your apartment when you arrived home.

Though Sara finally has someone that makes her happy, you couldn’t help but smile and be overjoyed for your best friend. She always had put everyone else first, and she deserved someone that would care for her too. You just hoped that this man wasn’t like your ex. That he wasn’t going to break Sara’s heart because you knew how that felt. Losing your whole self after the breakup was not what you wanted for her. Even though you knew she was tougher than you, you still hoped that she wouldn’t know the same pain you felt before. 

Spending the rest of the night on your bed and watching reruns of Friends, you eventually fell asleep and when the morning came, the sun was shining brightly through your big glass windows. The city was already busy outside as you got up from your bed, took your throw blanket, wrapped it around your body and tiptoed towards the kitchen. You could hear some clattering noise going on and realize maybe Sara was already awake. When you entered the kitchen, you saw the man that Sara brought back last night, making some tea.

“Oh.” You paused in your tracks, pulling the blanket closer to you.

The man turned to face you and smiled. His blond hair all disarray, and he was holding one of your mugs in his hand. The both of you stood there for a moment and just stared at each other, thinking about the little encounter you two had last night.

“Good morning.” His English accent slipped through his voice. 

British.

“Good morning.” You muttered, still frozen in your place.

“I’m sorry. Sara told me I could make some tea here in the morning.” He looked down at the mug that he was holding. “I want to apologize about last night.”

You finally were able to move as you walked towards him and opened the cupboard, taking a mug out. “Hm… You mean when I saw you butt naked on my sofa?” You teased him.

You watched as his cheeks flushed, scratching the back of his head, “I’m really sorry about that.”

You laughed softly, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. “It’s fine. I know.” 

“I’m Wesley, by the way. Wes.” He held out his hand to you. 

You introduced yourself and shook his hand, chuckling softly. You watched as Wes’ eyes caught the Friends poster on your living room and nodded his head towards that direction.

“You and Sara both love Friends, huh?” He asked.

Technically, that poster was yours, and you had that in your dorm room back in college. It was the show that you and Sara first bonded over when you first met and ever since you moved in together, you had hung it up there as a reminder how your friendship started.

“Yeah, we’re obsessed with that show.” You grinned.

“That’s quite funny because my best friend loves that show too.” Wes commented before the both of you were interrupted by Sara.

“Joe?” She smiled, coming out of her bedroom in her fuzzy robe. 

Wes leaned down to kiss Sara on the cheek, making her smile. You couldn’t help but look away, feeling like you were interrupting a moment between them. Though, you also couldn’t help but smile about the fact that they were really sweet together. 

“Yes, Joe. I was just telling her how Joe loves the show Friends like the two of you.” Wes explained.

“Which by the way, you will be watching with me too.” Sara stated, making Wes roll his eyes. “But speaking of Joe, I feel like the two of you would get along very well.” Sara turned her attention to you. 

You saw the smile on both of their faces, and you knew exactly what Sara was doing. She had been encouraging you for a few months now to go out there and date again, but you had refused many times. It was not like you didn’t want to go out there again. You did. But it was hard after Carter. You felt like you couldn’t trust anyone so easily anymore. So, you just raised your brow at Sara, who was grinning at you before she changed the subject and turned her attention to Wes.

“I have to go to the bookshop for a few hours because two of my employees are running late today.” Sara said.

“Okay, I actually have to head home, but I’ll pop by later on. I’ll bring Joe if he’s not busy today.” 

“I’ll come with you. I need to find a book anyway and finish my work.” You said, drinking the rest of your coffee. “And maybe I could help you out serve coffee.” 

Sara nodded her head, “Sounds good.”

Leaving the couple in the kitchen, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up to get yourself ready for the day. Sara’s bookshop café was only two blocks away from your apartment building, and she opened it up the year after you both graduated. It was something she had been wanting her whole life. The bookshop only started off small but once everyone had started coming in, Sara was able to expand it and add a little coffee shop inside for everyone to hang out and feel comfortable. It was Sara’s little baby, and she was always protective and picky with people to hire because she wanted to have someone that she trusted whenever she wasn’t at the bookshop. 

“I know what you’re doing, you know.” You told Sara later that morning as the both of you walked down the street. 

Sara was looking down at her feet, stepping on each crunchy leaf and  laughed at what you said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied, side eyeing you.

“Please. I’m not dumb. I saw that expression on your face when you mentioned John.”

“It’s Joe.” Sara corrected.

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever his name is.” 

“You need to go out there again. I’m not kidding, Joe really is nice. I really do feel like you two will get along really well.” 

“Well, maybe I like what I have right now.” You argued back.

Sara gave you a look as you both arrived at the bookshop café, knowing full well that you were lying through your teeth. You purse your lips as Sara chuckled and unlocked the bookshop doors.

You always loved Sara’s bookshop. The tall shelves and walls were made of dark wood that made the place look warm and cozy, especially during autumn and winter. It was two stories. The little coffee shop was at the back of the store and there was a little lounge area right by it. Upstairs, you could look down and see the first floor of the bookshop. Sara had also made a little lounge area at the back with string lights hanging on the ceiling and little bean bags set on the fuzzy carpet. Though, other than that, most of the upstairs were just a series of tall bookshelves. 

Looking around, you smiled as you adored the bookshop. You couldn’t get used to how beautiful and cozy it was. It has been a few weeks since you came over to the shop due to the fact that your work has been keeping you busy, and you would work late all the time. As you walked with Sara towards the back, you set your stuff in the lounge area and opened your laptop before following Sara behind the coffee counter and helped her set up the coffees.

Back in the earlier days when it just opened, you and Sara used to be so busy just bumping into each other and making coffees for everyone. Now, Sara has hired two people to help her but lately, you have been trying to convince her that she should hire another extra pair of hands.

After setting up everything, you made your way upstairs to find the books that you needed and for a while, you sat at the table and focused your attention on your laptop in front of you until you saw Sara struggling behind the counter. You were quick to get up from where you were sitting, put on an apron and helped her ring up some customers. 

“Don’t you miss working with me?” You teased Sara later that day as you steamed the milk for the latte.

“Yeah, remember when the counter was small and we would just bump into each other and spill coffee all over.” Sara chuckled.

“Sara, you really need to hire one more person. I think you need two more extra hands around here.” You suggested as you watched the crowd of people finally started to go down.

Sara let out a sigh, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. You know how picky I am.” You watched as she opened the fridge underneath the counter. “I’m gonna go to the back and get some more milk. I can handle it from here. Go back to your work, I know you still have some stuff to do.”

“Okay.”

Wiping down the countertops and putting everything back to its place, you kinda missed the rush that it gave you. Sure, you were busy at work but you were always behind a desk now. Though, at the same time, you couldn’t picture yourself being like this everyday. It would stress you out. You honestly didn’t know how Sara was doing it. 

“Hello, may I get a small cappuccino?” 

Your thoughts were interrupted as you finished wiping down the countertops. “Yes, give me one second, sir—”

As soon as you glanced up, you froze in your place and saw him. It had probably been a year already, but you knew that face. You remembered that face. You could tell he remembered you too because he had the same expression as you. His eyes widened in shock and suddenly, a small smile tugged on his face.

“Hi!” He greeted you.

“Hi.” You smiled, nervously wiping your hands with the towel that you were holding. 

Why did you keep bumping into this man? Manhattan was big enough for the two of you to not be constantly running into each other. 

“I didn’t know you work here.”

“Oh, I don’t. I was just helping—”

“These crates are heavy!” Sara interrupted, coming back carrying a crate full of milk. You quickly dropped the towel you were holding and helped her carry it over and set it on the counter. 

“Joe!” Sara exclaimed as soon as she saw him. “It looks like you two finally met!”

Wait, Joe? 

Was this the Joe they were talking about this morning? Was this the Joe who is Wes’ best friend? Your eyes widened at Sara, and you slowly turned to Joe who was smiling at your best friend like they have known each other for a while.

“You’re Joe?” You asked, stunned. 

Joe nodded his head, giving you a warm smile as he held out his hand and introduced himself. As you shook his hand and also introduced yourself, you couldn’t help but wonder how many times you two kept running into each other and you just now were learning his name. 

Joe.

“Where’s Wes?” Sara asked as she started making Joe’s drink.

“Oh, he’s in the restroom.”

Not a few seconds after, Wes came up behind Joe with a big grin on his face and said, “Oh! You two finally met!”

Wes squeezed Joe’s shoulder, while you and Joe stared at each other for a moment. You could see how Joe was holding in his smile, while you looked down and bit your lower lip. Sara and Wes could feel the different vibe that was radiating from the both of you when you gazed up and saw them exchanging looks.

“Okay, what is with the weird vibe?” Wes asked.

Joe cleared his throat as you let out a soft chuckle and said, “We met before.”

“When?” Sara and Wes exclaimed in unison as both of their eyes widened in shock.

You turned to Sara and said, “The night that Carter broke up with me.”

Joe did the same to Wes and said, “When I proposed to Rue.”

“He’s the handkerchief guy?”

“She’s the handkerchief girl?”

Both Sara and Wes said it at the same time again as they stood there and stared at both of you with wide eyes. You felt the blood rushed to your cheeks as soon as Sara mentioned the little nickname you two had for Joe. You told Sara about that night. The night how Joe had given you his handkerchief because he found you crying, and you thought it was weird how both of you had the opposite situations that night. You also had mentioned that you ran into him at the mall the next day. Letting your eyes study both men in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about the little nickname. Then again, Wes and Joe also called you the same thing. So, what were you so embarrassed for? 

Turning to Sara, you could see the playful smile that was slowly curving on her face, and you shook your head, knowing exactly what she was thinking. You were just glad that you were saved by Sara’s two employees walking in the shop because the conversation immediately ended as soon as they entered. Hoping you could avoid this conversation to continue, you untied the apron from your waist.

“I know what you’re thinking.” You whispered at Sara as you passed by her before hanging the apron on the wall. You let her employees take over as you slipped yourself away from behind the counter. 

Walking back at your little table where you had set your things earlier, you sat down and went back to work on your laptop. Joe didn’t take his eyes off of you as he waited for Sara to finish making his cappuccino. Letting Wes and Sara have their own space, Joe grabbed the drink from Sara and paid for it before walking towards where you were sitting at the lounge area. He could see you were focused on whatever you were doing in your laptop, and he couldn’t help but think how you looked beautiful. 

“We meet again.” Joe said as he stood in front of you with a smile on his face. 

You gazed up from your laptop and said, “It seems like it.”

“How are you?”

You bit your lower lip and said, “Better. How’s everything with you? Are you finally engaged?”

Joe sat across from you and let out a scoff, shaking his head. “Um… no. We broke up two weeks after that night.”

You furrowed your brows as you completely stopped what you were doing and gave Joe your full attention this time. “Oh? I thought you said you were working things out.”

You watched as Joe took a sip of his drink and said, “Well, you can’t really work things out when one of you is cheating on the other.” 

You raised both your brows and shook your head. You didn’t know the woman but this was probably the third time that you had judged her in your head. Pushing the thoughts away, you focused your attention back to your laptop. 

“Idiot.” You mumbled under your breath, low enough hoping Joe wouldn’t hear it, but he did anyway. 

Joe smiled to himself as he heard your little comment. Sipping the rest of his cappuccino, he watched you work for a moment. His eyes lingered towards your long hair and the way you typed on your laptop. Then, his eyes fell to your long lashes fluttering, and your sparkling eyes that were focused on the screen. He never noticed it then because his mind was too busy with Rue but watching you sit there in front of him, he couldn’t help but think how stunning you were.

“How about you? Have you yelled at anyone lately?” Joe teased you, knowing that he would be able to see your smile.

He was right. Because not only did he receive a genuine smile from you, a soft laughter also escaped from your lips. It was the first time he saw you smile and the sound of your laughter was music to his ears. The last two times he had run into you, you were upset, and he couldn’t blame you, honestly. He still remembered that night. He remembered how much of a dick your ex was.

You glanced up from your screen and saw the playful smile that tugged on Joe’s face. You could tell he was teasing you as his chocolate button eyes sparkled.

“No, I don’t yell at people.” You said. “That’s just for you.” You added, teasing him back.

You watched Joe laugh at your joke and thought about Sara’s little comment this morning. Maybe she was right. You were able to get along with Joe easily. Interrupting your little conversation, Sara and Wes walked over towards the two of you. Wes’ arm was around Sara’s shoulders as they smiled at the both of you, knowing full well that they were right. You both were getting along quickly.

“I’m quite peckish. Do you want to get some pizza down the street?” Wes asked.

“Sure.” You and Joe said in unison as you closed your laptop and packed your things.

The walk to the pizza shop was only two minutes. You and Joe walked right behind Wes and Sara, and you tried your best to keep your focus on your feet and let them step on the crunchy leaves on the pavement.

Left, right, left right. 

It wasn’t like it was awkward between you two. You just didn’t really know what to say or talk about with him. After all, you two just officially met. Joe was quiet too. He tried to find something to talk about with you but nothing really came to mind. As the four of you entered the little pizza shop, you settled yourself at a corner booth. Wes was the most talkative out of everyone, and you could tell how happy he was. His happiness was radiating out of him. You couldn’t help but laugh and smile at his little jokes and glanced at Sara from time to time. 

She’s happy. 

“You know what? I’m still absolutely shocked over the fact that you and Joe have met before.” Wes said, his attention turned towards you. “What are the odds that I’d meet Sara too?”

Joe chuckled, sipping on his soda. “Wes was completely down on his knees the moment he met Sara.”

As you sat there, you realized one thing. You now just found out about Wes and Sara, but everyone else knew about all of this except for you. 

Even Joe. 

You turned your attention to Sara and asked, “You know you haven’t told me exactly how this happened.”

Sara gave you a smile and turned to Wes and Joe. Both men exchanged looks before Wes said, “So, we were walking down the street after a long day. Joe just finished filming a movie, and I was there visiting him on set, and it started pouring hard outside. We found Sara’s bookshop café and since Joe was already crying that he wanted some coffee because it was cold, we decided to enter.”

“And there was Sara behind the counter making drinks, and Wes just stood there frozen in line and drooling over her. Ever since then, he started coming in almost everyday.” Joe laughed.

“It’s so funny because I started noticing him, and he would come and talk to me. He started ordering a different drink everyday.” Sara added.

The four of you laughed as you saw how Wes’ cheeks flushed. “Hey! I was coming in everyday. I might as well try all the beverages.”

“Well, that took you four months, and you were finally able to let her say yes, did you, mate?” Joe teased, nudging Wes on the side.

“That’s so cute. I’m so happy for you.” You murmured to Sara, who was sitting next to you. “And you said you’re an actor?” You turned to Joe.

“Oh, yeah!” Sara replied to your question. 

“You know, she works at a production company.” Wes added, pointing at you. 

You furrowed your brows, wondering how Wes knew that and figured maybe Sara had mentioned it to him. It wasn’t really something you like to brag about because it was just some normal office work in your opinion. 

“I work at the office. I just do paperwork and… other things.” You shrugged. 

“Do you ever want to work on set or be in front of the camera?” Joe asked.

“No, not really. I mean that would be great, but I don’t think I’m good at that part of the business.”

Joe nodded his head in understanding as the four of you continued to eat pizza and have little small conversations. You learned that Wes was too afraid to actually ask Sara out at the beginning and that was why he didn’t do anything about it, which made Sara think that it wasn’t gonna go anywhere. Joe, however, was able to finally convince Wes to ask Sara out on a date and just two days ago, they finally made it official. 

You thought that story was actually really cute, and you couldn’t be more happier for Sara. Looking at Wes, it seemed like he was also very genuine towards her. When the four of you walked out of the pizza shop that day, Joe and Wes had to go their separate ways since they both had plans, while you and Sara decided that you would spend time together and shop.

“So, I guess I’ll see you around.” Joe said to you.

Wes and Sara were saying their goodbyes a few feet away from the both of you, and you thought this time, there would be an actual chance you would see Joe again. Not run into each other in surprise but actually see him because you knew he would be tagging along with Wes from time to time. 

“Yeah, I guess so. It was really nice to finally meet you officially.”

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, it was nice to finally meet you two… officially.”

“Bye.” You smiled at him before locking arms with Sara and walked in the opposite direction. 

“So?” Sara raised her brow at you.

“So… I like Wes.” You replied to the question you already knew she was asking. “He’s really nice and funny.”

“Really?” Sara’s eyes widened in happiness. Her whole face glowed the moment she heard you say those words.

“Really.” You laughed, nudging her lightly. “Even though our first encounter was a little… traumatizing.”

You both laughed together at your little joke. Sara knew you would never let that subject go now. 

“And Joe?” Sara asked.

“He’s… nice.” You smiled. 

Sara didn’t say or ask anything else as she lightly nudged you on the side, making you stumble a little. As the autumn leaves fell from the trees, both of your laughter filled the streets as you both continued down the sidewalk. 

********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf

[heartsbind]

❤️ + ✈️ + 🧶 !!

shannon yaps about themself time!

❤️ — what are some of your best qualities?

i see you making me be positive about myself -- DKJFSNKJSD 🥺 anyway okay so i would say... my sense of humor and i am good at making myself look physically calm under pressure and organized (at work) even though i never feel that way DKFDSFDSF like at my mother's wedding this weekend. like... ok story time DKJFNDSF so i have three sisters, all younger, the youngest two are twins and the one in the middle is the one who just had a baby. the older twin is engaged and the younger twin has a bf. so older twin's fiance was standing by my brother-in-law and the baby and when he saw us starting to file out for like the procession or whatever the walk to the altar is, he starts like gesticulating and pointing at the baby and giving a thumbs up, but my sister could not tell what he was doing and was like starting to get anxious and asking us like "what's he saying, what about the baby-" and i, who had just been in a 2 hour long car ride with him and just know what he's generally like, could calm her down bc i knew they were positive gestures like "hey i see your baby! she's all good!" and then at the exact same time my mom was getting nervous bc the youngest twin was singing and we'd rehearsed walking according to what verse she was on and like nobody in our lineup could hear her from the building we were coming from EXCEPT i guess another good quality is that i have good hearing (my husband also can't hear for shit so i'm always hearing shit for him me vc oh that car is playing seven nation army i can hear the bass / him vc WHAT are you talking about / ANYWAY--) bc i could be like "ok she's on first verse. ok she's on the chorus. ok second verse is coming up. ok time to go" so anyway i hadn't considered much about any of it until the hostess that was helping us run the event that night came up to me later and was like you did really great!!! and all that and i was like oh! i did nothing!

i am also very humble and yap a very normal amount ---

✈️ — ever traveled anywhere interesting?

ok i can keep this one short bc i haven't gone too many places! i cannot drive and am broke and rarely have the chance to take more than a few days off at once so i've never left the country nor traveled very far across the country. i've pretty much stayed on the east coast u.s. but!! i got lucky enough to go to savannah georgia for a couple days for my sister's bachelorette party a few years ago and that was really fun! they had this place where they did brunch and they would put rubber ducks in your drinks. i think i still have mine somewhere

🧶 — any non-writing hobbies/interests?

video gaming primarily! beyond the games that i have muses for i really like all kinds of different sims. all sorts of farming sims that i just keep collecting, i have like gas station sim and powerwashing sim, supermarket sim, house flipper, pool-cleaning, crime scene washing... i'm currently juggling two/three bg3 runs, early access fields of mistria, just completed the demo of metaphor re:fantazio last night (the gameplay was so fun and it looked so incredible oh my gosh!)

i am god awful at watching things, tv shows i'm the worst at and movies i'm hit or miss - i just have soooo many things i want to do that it's hard to pick what to do next haha! but i have a background in scriptwriting and media studies so i really enjoy watching movies when i have the time!

i used to play the alto saxophone for a symphonic band at a local college that was open to community members! i miss it, but the last place i moved to it was just too far of a drive to justify doing it, plus covid put them in limbo for a bit and i don't think i ever got an email when they started in-person up again, probably because i wasn't in a position to do online meetings with everyone and practice at the time. i'm hoping to move back into the city next year, and maybe i can try to go again!

anything else... i like doing puzzles with my husband, we love tabletop mystery games (we used to have a hunt a killer subscription), and i love collecting even though i am too broke to really do it DKFSDJFDSFS and have no space to put anything. oh and i did start to practice drawing but i haven't done that in a while DFJDSFDSF

[melkluver]

Playing Dangerous

Ellie Williams x f!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: SMUTTT (f!receiving). modern-ish. Officer Williams. MINORS DNI!!!!!

a/n: inspired by Lana Del Rey's song (all credit to her)!!! I've had this idea for awhile, I hope the vision works out :))) (song is the title) (also IM BACKKK sorry I literally had no motivation to write anything but im a horny fucker)

The cold air whipped around you as you stumbled down the deserted road, your nightgown flapping wildly in the wind. You shivered, feeling a chill run down your spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

As you opened your eyes, you realized with a sinking feeling that you had been sleepwalking again. This was nothing new, of course- you had a history of it, especially during your teenage years. But this was the fourth time this month, which was unusual.

Looking around, you saw that you were surrounded by empty houses. There were no streetlamps, no cars in driveways, and no signs of life from any of the houses. But there was a strange, bright orange light coming from behind you, almost like the sun had risen too early.

Whipping around, you expected to see the source of the light. Instead, you saw a single house engulfed in flames, the fire blazing brightly in the darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you wondered if you could have caused this somehow. But you quickly shook your head- there was no way you could have started a fire like this. You always made sure to lock your doors at night, even triple-checking on occasion.

As you turned back around, you realized that you didn't recognize this place at all. You had no idea how far away from home you were, or how you had ended up here. It was all so strange and disorienting.

Suddenly, a pair of red and blue lights appeared, hurtling towards you at high speed. You instinctively covered your eyes with your forearms, shielding them from the blinding lights. The overpowering smell of smoke and fire made your head pound even more, and you felt your stomach lurch with nausea.

The car door opened, and a woman's voice called out, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" 

You hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. You glanced back at the burning house, feeling a sense of dread wash over you. "I was sleepwalking," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper "I don’t know where I am.” 

The woman's expression softened in the slightest bit, but she still looked skeptical. “Who are you?” she repeated harshly, “Did you do that?”

You took a few steps forward towards the police officer. As you approached her, you could see the freckles that lightly speckled across her face, as well as the scar that ran across her right eyebrow. Her auburn hair was tightly pulled into a ponytail. 

The red and blue lights gave her face an ambiance that made it hard to look away from her. 

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer,” your voice dripped with innocence. “No, I wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

“So you wake up in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, alone, a house on fire behind you- almost like you're walking away from it. And you’re telling me you had nothing to do with the fire?” she almost scoffed. 

“The house was already on fire,” your both lock eyes, “I swear I’m not a liar.” 

Sighing in defeat, she seemed to accept that her question would go unanswered for the time being. “Alright- well are you okay?” 

“Well I’m a little shaken- but I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You couldn’t help but notice how the officer was alone. 

Officer Williams the badge on her chest read. 

Finding some sort of confidence in the midst of things, you asked, “Tell me, do you always work alone so late?” 

Taken aback by your question, Officer Williams blinked a couple of times. She took a couple more steps forward, “I happen to be on my way home,” she corrected “my shift ended an hour ago, but before I could go get high and eat dinner and pass out in the comfort of my own home- this happens. I mean you’re a pretty girl and all and I really don’t wanna take you down to the station-” 

In that moment, you felt a rush of heat stretch down to your core. Pretty.

Your hands quickly found their way to your dark hair, tucking it behind your ear. You suddenly felt like a teenager again, “God, I’m all shy standing here in my nightgown.”

"You cut me off before I could finish sweetheart," she said while looking you up and down, licking her lips, just inches away from your face. "I gotta take you down to the station."

The heat you felt had faded a bit, and your stomach dropped. Officer Williams reached out and tugged your arm, turning you to face backwards from her. She reached into her pocket and brought out the linked metal rings, placing the cold metal onto your wrists. She struggled a bit while tightening the metal, making it so tight that it almost cut off your circulation.

"Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?" Your head turned around to meet her eyes, your own eyes almost pleading with hers.

"I've got no choice here," she grunted, pulling your body towards her cruiser. She opened the back door and guided you into the seat, placing her hand on the back of your head. 

As you sat in the backseat of the cruiser, you couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that invaded your brain about Officer Williams. How she would look slurping and lapping at your folds. You shifted in uncomfortableness as the heat grew once again. 

You brought your leg up onto the seat, placing it underneath your core- you were looking for a way to relieve yourself, feeling uncontrollably aroused in this moment. You shuffled on top of yourself, rocking your hips back and forth slightly. 

Officer Williams was the first person in a long time to make you feel this way. Not just horny- there was something more, like a desire. You can only remember one girl making you feel this way before, but both of you were too immature for any kind of relationship. 

You were happy living a quiet life, teaching art to high schoolers and coaching the town’s Tee-Ball team. You never had a desire to do anything else- or anyone for that matter. Matter of fact, you’ve never felt this confident enough to be able to let yourself unfold in front of a complete stranger. 

When you let a whimper slip past your lips, your eyes darted to the middle mirror, but Officer Williams was already watching your every move. 

Her eyes grew with a fire and immediately pulled the car over to the side of the desolate road. The red and blue lights had disappeared, leaving only the headlights to illuminate the darkness ahead. 

In the background, the flames grew higher, peeking over the tree line. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” She turned around to look at you, watching the whimpers fall out of your mouth as you pleasure yourself. 

Your desire for her grew, pushing you over the edge with growing confidence. “You’re making me go crazy Officer, I wan-” you caught yourself “need you. You can do anything you want, anything”  

A light chuckle rolled past her lips. She reached for the door handle, and made her way to you. “You know, I don't usually do this- but I gotta admit you are something else.”

Her hands instantly found yours, unlocking the handcuffs she placed on your wrists only 10 minutes ago, throwing them to the front of her car. 

“Uncuff people you put in the backseat of your cop car? Or are you gonna fuck me?” 

With this, she grabbed your legs pulling you towards her face she had lowered to meet your core. She hastily pulled your long nightgown up to your stomach, peeling open your legs. She groaned with the sight of you already bare, your cunt already dripping down to the leather car seams. 

“You’re already this wet baby? Just from the thought of me? Hell- you don’t even know me.” Her tongue immediately met your clit, giving the smallest kitten licks. 

“Holy shit” you said, already choking on air from the pleasure you were experiencing. 

“Is this what you were thinking about before?” She questioned, picking up the pace of her laps, “Me eating your sweet little pussy?” 

“Fuck-” you almost came undone with her words. 

Her fingers quickly found its way to your folds, spreading your lips apart as her mouth lapped and sucked against your swollen nub, eating like you were her substitute dinner for tonight. 

She pushed one finger into your hole, quickly finding a rhythm that made you moan at a pitch you'd never let out before. She was quick to add another finger into your folds with your words of encouragement, curling them to reach that sensitive spot inside you. 

The slick sounds coming from your core invaded the car. The windows were already foggy from the two of you, and you were starting to sweat with the lack of fresh air. 

Her eyes looked towards yours, only to find your head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.”

Your eyes quickly found hers- her fingers fucked into you over and over, while her tongue swirled across your aroused clit. Your hands sunk into her auburn hair, desperately rubbing your core against her lips. 

The pleasure was sending you over the edge, your walls clenched around her fingers. “Good girl, that's it. cum for me” 

Her words made the coil in your stomach snap, coming undone onto her fingers and mouth. You cried out loud, mumbling nonsense that only came from this kind of high. 

When you are focused, she removes herself from your core. She brings her fingers up to your mouth, letting you taste yourself. 

Without wasting another second, she uses both hands to flip you around so that you are on all fours. She shuffles right behind you, her pelvis meeting the back of your legs.

Her hands grip your cheeks, spreading them apart. Spit drops from her mouth onto your tighter hole. She brings her thumb to your pulsating hole, circling the hole eager with permission. “This okay?” 

There is no hesitation with your answer, “Yes.” 

With this, she dips her thumb into your ass. Your back immediately aches, sending her thumb even further in. 

Her thumb pushes in and out of you at a fast pace, not even bothering to let your small hole adjust to her finger for another second. 

“Holy fuck baby, your ass is taking me so well” Officer Williams spoke, her words sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. 

Officer Williams brings her face down to meet your core once again, licking up all your juices that spill from you. Her tongue moved back and forth between your folds, letting her tongue rest on your clit every so often. Her tongue against your sopping wet pussy made the most pornographic sounds, you were wishing this moment would never end. 

Her thumb pushing in and out of your hole with the combined feeling of her tongue devouring you, made your body come undone a second time that night in no time. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Sweat scattered your forehead, the back of your knees and even the crevices of your elbows. “No one has ever made me cum that hard Officer” you blurt out, as your head whips around to meet her eyes. 

She smiled as she removed her thumb from your hole, letting you gape for just a second before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I really enjoy eating your pussy,” she said staring at you “if you agree that we can do this again, I won't turn you in. That’s fair.”

“Sounds like a fair trade Officer.” you almost let out a schoolgirl giggle right then and there. 

“Call me Ellie.” 

[pumpkinpot]

May I request #18 with Edward from Twilight? Please and thank you!

Absolutely, Okay so this is an x reader...Maybe Vamphunter!reader? So Bella isn't here. Either pre canon or AU. Up to you! Also, I took some liberties on the prompt lol.

Prompt 18: Lost in the woods, you're tired, thirsty and desperate when you stumble across a strange cabin.

CW: Observing?

Some time ago all the trees began to look the same. Some had orange and green leaves and others had green and orange leaves.

The knots had begun to look like eyes, watching you wander endlessly in circles. If they could speak would they laugh?

It was just like the forest to do something like that. When you listen closely you could almost hear it. A twinging laughter for the one that is always lost.

Except. you could hear it. Or hear... something.

You stumbled forward following the tinkling sound. Your steps soften to better listen, but the crunch of leaves beneath your boots echos around the forest.

A moment the breeze stops and you lose the sound but soon it is found again. The melody brings you to a windchime made of old spoons. the rain gutter from which it hangs from sags off the side of a dilapidated cabin.

Excitement exhausts the last of your hydration. Hours earlies your lips had taken on a sticky feeling but even that has left you. There was a single gulp of water left in your bottle and it was reserved for deaths door.

And here it was. The door was weathered wood, potentially built from something grown here in this forest. It looked like it might have been painted once but the hue of it decayed with the rest of the structure.

Dirt caked on the windows making inside impossible to decipher.

Your gloved hand knocks, twinging your tired muscles.

There was a shuffle, a few seconds of silence then slowly the door began to open.

It only cracks as far as to see half the face of its occupant. He looks at you wearily. "Can I help you?"

The air in your mouth sticks the word to your cheeks. Oh to be found.

"Do you have water?" you ask.

His brow knits. "No, sorry."

You look around tiredly. "Okay, do you have a phone I can borrow?"

He peers up at the burning sky. Light was a commodity minutes to diminishing. Soon the sky would wash itself of the day and night would prepare the hours.

He looks around. "Are you alone?"

Your lips pinch shut while you look for a safe thing to say. "uh-"

"Come in out of the dark." The words were not inherently welcoming. More annoyed than anything.

The exterior was generous with its interior perimeter. Somehow the lack of furniture made it feel smaller. Like a box made for animals.

Nothing but a singular chair, writing table, and a plethora of books kept the walls company.

Nothing of note. Mostly fiction and all of a similar sorrowful genre.

There was no food, no water, no electricity. Candles lining the two windows keeping the shadows from swallowing us whole.

"Cozy," you say.

He offers you the singular chair lowering himself onto the floor. "I don't often have guests."

You can't help but nod. "So what are you doing out here, in the middle of nowhere?"

He was gangly. Limbs folding over one another like sticks angling in odd directions. Despite this he was beautiful. The kind that would have sent sailors overboard, but in the most inhumane way it could be said. Or thought.

There was an imperfection that kissed humans. we were etched with trials and victories but mostly folly.

His skin was wiped of everything that could be traced with an intimate finger or fussed over. He was ethereal.

He regard of you was delt with a sense of healthy suspicion, but he saw no threat in you. It was true that your lack of direction brought you to him, but the question still remained.

Who found who?

"we're hardly in the middle of nowhere," He says, "The town in two miles east."

You slowly blink at him. "Thant can't be true."

He nods. "Just outside of Honeyville. Why are you here in the "Middle of nowhere?""

There was no answer that you could give that wouldn't warrant a good, thorough teasing. You sift though excuses in your mind.

Hiking trip gone mostly wrong, cryptid hunting, mushroom foraging-

He stares at you, smile growing and fading with each passing second.

Almost as if her can read-

"Got lost on a stroll."

He hums. "A stroll? Not cryptid hunting?"

Your brow lifts and you tilt your head. "Why, know of any in need or hunting? I'm more of an observing type myself."

He leaned forward his fingers lacing together in his lap like tree branches "Are you observing me?"

You straightened your spine. "Maybe I am."

"And what have you discovered?"

There were as many paths before you as there were trees just outside the front door. Lies, truths, half-truths, white lies, distraction, misdirect-

"you've lost your way," you say finally, "Found yourself separated from the pack. If I had to guess, I'd say, self-punishment?"

His eyes are focused souly on you when you look up. There was a glint of amusement, but more than that, there was unadulterated curiosity. "You are observant."

The tips of your lips turn up as you take the full water bottle from your pack. "So I've been told."

He leans back in his chair imitating a sigh. "So, do I get to know who sent you?"

The water stings coating your throat all the way down your chest. Getting lost really was the bane of your existence. "Does it matter?"

He shrugs. "I suppose not, though I am interested in how you found me."

"There was no need. It's a skill of mine. Get lost, something will get found."

"So what now?" He stands stepping closer until your knees knock against his calves. "Do we fight to the death?"

You sigh a heavy thing. "Didn't you hear me? I'm not really a fighter, besides I'm exhausted and-" you take three button mushrooms from your pack. "I'm starving."

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: fluff at the beginning, lots of angst and sadness in the second part, hints at an abusive relationship and mentions of childhood trauma, Japanese folklore. | Word count: 3.7k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

It was 11pm when the glow of my phone pierced the darkness of my room, disrupting my sleep. I had kept it on silent because I had gone to bed early that day, but the brightness was so high, that if it weren’t for that I would have missed Lia’s call.

When I saw her name on the screen and the picture I had of her, smiling happily while she snuggled Gizmo close to her face, her eyes and nose scrunched in an adorable way, I was quickly yanked from my slumber, my alarms going off.

“Lia?”

“Noah,” something was wrong; I could tell by her voice, the way she said my name. “I know it’s late and you were probably sleeping, but do you think you can come pick me up?”

“Of course,” I said without hesitation.

I sat up on the bed, my eyes getting used to the dark. I was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, but it was still freaking cold in the house those days. The temperatures were expected to drop even more in the upcoming weeks. I wouldn’t let Jolly stop me from switching on the heating if needed. The dude had some resistance to low temperatures that maybe had something to do with the fact that he had been born in a very cold country.

“Where are you? Your apartment?” I asked over the phone, kicking the duvet away and rising from the bed.

“No, I’m…” She took a while to answer, and I could picture her looking around, wherever she was, in the middle of the night. “Fuck, I don’t know where I am,” she admitted. “My car won’t start. I don’t know what’s going on. I was at Emery’s house, and we got carried away chatting. I was headed to Mitch’s apartment right now, but the car started making a weird noise, I pulled over, switched the engine off, and now it won’t start. I’ve been trying for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Are you in the city?” I put on the hoodie that I discarded on the floor last night —a few hours ago, actually—.

“Outskirts,” she replied.

“Okay. Send me your location. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just stay inside of the car.”

“Yeah, I will.” Her reply was shaky but determined, a reassurance that echoed through the phone line as I exited my room and hurried to the main door, putting on my sneakers and grabbing the keys. I would send a text to Jolly and Jesse once in the car, letting them know where I had gone.

The city slumbered beneath a blanket of quietude as I drove the empty streets, the eerie radiance of the streetlamps casting a somber ambiance on the dampened asphalt. The clock’s hands seemed to move at a slow pace, nearly twenty minutes stretching into an eternity as I pushed the accelerator, eager to reach Lia. The hum of the engine my only company in the solitude of the cold night.

As I approached Lia’s location, I muttered a curse. Lia’s car was parked on the side of the national road, the shadows of the night taking over the distant light from the lampposts.

I stopped my car behind hers. The quietude and cold air enveloping me as I stepped out at the same time Lia emerged from her car. The chilled air bit through my hoodie, and our footsteps echoed as we met each other.

“Hey.”

Lia wrapped her arms around me and muttered a weak “thank you for coming” before standing back. I noticed she was also wearing a hoodie, one of the recent new ones we had released with her designs for the last drop. It was two or three sizes bigger on her, which made me think that it was probably mine. I could also tell how cold her cheeks would feel, for they were as red as her nose.

“Are you okay?” My hand rubbed her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m worried about the car, though,” she admitted, glancing back at the stalled vehicle. “Whatever the problem is, I don’t think I’ll be able to drive home tonight.”

“Let me take a look. It might be an issue with the injectors, or perhaps it’s just the battery. Either way, we might need to call a tow truck,” I suggested, moving towards Lia’s car.

“Great,” she sighed, her concern lingering. She tried to hide her hands inside the long sleeves of the hoodie. Her shoulders were drawn tight.

Seated the driver’s seat, I slid the keys into the ignitor. The engine responded with a sluggish sound, as if grappling with an obstruction that resisted its ignition.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said, trying again. “Look, if it’s an issue with the ignition, we could try something.”

“What?” She asked, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

“There’s a way to get the car back on if the problem is with the ignition, but I’m going to need you to push the car from behind.”

Her eyes widened with a mix of surprise and skepticism.

“Do I look like I’m built to push a car?”

I couldn’t help but smile at her remark.  

“No, not really, but it’s not that difficult once the handbrake is off. I need to be here to guide the process. I have to press the clutch, put it in second gear, and move the foot to the accelerator quickly while somebody is pushing the car.”

“Why can’t I do that?”

“Because it’s harder to do than pushing the car, trust me.”

“Okay, Mr. Mechanic,” she concluded.

“Get the gloves from my car, in the storage in front of the passenger’s seat. Otherwise you’re going to freeze your hands.

“Got it.”

I closed the door and rolled down the window. Lia crouched down behind the car, hands gloved. With a signal from me, she began pushing the car, pursuing her lips hard as she used all the strength she could gather from her shoulders and arms. I heard a laugh echoing a few seconds later as the car started to get into motion. I chuckled and shook my head as I tried to get the engine on, stealing a look at the rearview mirror and seeing Lia’s expression. She looked like she had just discovered she had the super strength of a superhero.

Yet, despite our efforts, my idea proved futile.

Five minutes later, Lia stood with slumped shoulders behind her car, looking at me with a pout.

“It’s either the battery or the injectors,” I conluded, releasing a sigh. “They’ll have to take a look at it.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t worry. Call the car insurance, and let’s wait in my car until the tow truck arrives. Then, I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

She grabbed her things from her car and circled mine to open the passenger door. Once inside, I helped her put her stuff in the backseat, my expression furrowing at the sight of the flowerpot she was holding.

“What’s that?” My curiosity piqued as Lia cradled the plant in her hands.

“What do you mean? It’s a flower plant. I got it this morning and it’s been in the car even since. Poor thing,” she mourned, checking its leaves. “It’s a bellflower. Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yeah,” I replied, not being much of a flower enthusiast, but the vibrant plant had a certain charm to it.  

“I was thinking if I ever have a daughter, I will name her after this flower. Bellie.”

“What?” I snorted a laugh.

“What?” She repeated, a playful defiance in her tone. “You don’t like it?”

“You don’t think people will call her “Belly” by mistake? No, I don’t think I would name my daughter Bellie.”

“If you put it that way… What about Lily?”

“Lily is cute, but it’s too common.”

“Okay, what about—?

“Are we really discussing baby names?” I interrupted her, bemused. We were in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a tow truck. It was nearly midnight. I was tired, she probably was, too, and we were having a discussion over how we would name our daughter? I mean, each other’s daughter. Or… Whatever.

Our gazes remained locked for a couple of seconds. Then, Lia shook her head and dropped her eyes back to the plant. “Mitch’s apartment is empty as hell, so I decided to get some plants, make it look livelier.”

“Are you planning on moving in with him soon?” I couldn’t help but ask, my tone subtly changing.

Please, don’t say yes.

“No, I don’t think so,” she answered honestly. A straightforward answer. That was good. “I really like my apartment. We’ll see in the future, but no plans of moving together for now. God, can you switch on the heating? I’m freezing.”

“Sure. Why didn’t you call him, though?”

It took her a moment to answer, her eyes wandering in the dark landscape in front of us.

“He just came back from tour and he’s out with his friends tonight. I didn’t want to bother him,” her voice carried a hint of shame. “I’m sorry that I called you and made you come all the way here this late.” She looked up at me, her voice low and soft in the dark.

Her reddened cheeks and nose made me want to reach out to her, to cup her face and warm her skin with my palms.

“Lia, you know you don’t have to apologize for that. In fact, you know you should call me if something happens. I mean,” a sudden wave of anger surged within me as thoughts raced my mind. “What the hell, you should call your boyfriend. You should’ve called him. Fuck his night out. You’re in trouble. He should be here.”

“Well, yeah, but…” She let out a puff, sinking herself in the seat. I didn’t mean to make her feel guilty for calling me. My point was merely to acknowledge what a moron Mitch was being. He just came back from tour and decided to hang out with his friends instead of spending time with Lia? What was wrong with him? “Noah, I know that” Lia replied, the tiredness in her tone evident, “but I don’t need a lesson right now. I didn’t feel like calling him. I wanted to call you. That’s all,” she concluded. And before I said anything else, “What’s wrong with the heating?” She put her hands on the heaters, checking the air.

“Nothing is wrong. You just have to wait a while,” I told her, mirroring her tone.   

The conversation was dropped right then, a heavy silence settling between us.

An hour later, we were stopped in front of Mitch’s residence, a recently built five-story brick building situated near the city center. The keys jingled in Lia’s hands as she fished them out of her bag, a moment of hesitation lingering as my car remained parked in front of the entrance. Her gaze remained fixed outside the window, a nervous nibble on her lip showing her unease.  

“Lia, don’t worry about the car.”

“It’s…” She sighed again, struggling to find the words.

“Are you worried about the money? You know that shouldn’t be a problem, whatever it is that needs to get fixed. The insurance will take care of it.”

“It’s just been a hectic day,” she told me. Consequently, she shook her head and let it drop. “I really need to get to bed. You’re my savior. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” I replied with a smile. I could see how she was still battling herself for her decision of calling me instead of Mitch, for admitting that he had preferred his friends over her, that her car had broken down. I didn’t want to let her go feeling like that. “Or… Actually, you can take me out to that Indian restaurant. Friday? I’ll be free after seven.”

She playfully nudged my shoulder, leaning in two seconds later to kiss my cheek. Her lips were still cold, and the sensation lingered on my skin even for a while after she was gone.

“Seriously, thank you.”

So many formalities, as if she didn’t know that I would move heaven and earth to ensure she was safe of any danger out there. Sometimes her naiveté astonished me.

“Text me when you get home? Just to make sure your car doesn’t break down in the middle of somewhere,” she pleaded.

“Hopefully not. Otherwise, how do you plan on coming to my rescue?” I joked.

“I’ll steal somebody’s bicycle,” she responded with a grin and determination.

“I can’t wait to see you do that.”

With a small laugh, she closed the door, and the silence I was left in inside of the car filled my heart with sadness.

A week and a half later, Lia and I found ourselves at the garage, surrounded by the scent of motor oil and the clattering sounds of tools. As she sat down to sign the paperwork, her eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and resignation. The mechanic, a burly man with grease-streaked overalls, handed her the pen, and she reluctantly scrawled her signature across the dotted line.

Swiping her credit card over the dataphone to settle the bill, Lia winced at the considerable amount that flashed across the screen. The cost of the repairs had skyrocketed, and the insurance only covered half of it. The issue with her car, as explained by the mechanic, was a malfunctioning injector. It turned out that a single faulty injector had caused a domino effect, fucking up the entire fuel injection system. With a sigh, Lia listened as the mechanic detailed the necessity of replacing all the injectors to ensure the car's optimal performance and prevent future issues.

Despite the amount of money that disappeared from her bank account, Lia's thoughts seemed to be elsewhere as she swiped her credit card. That day, when I picked Lia up from Mitch's apartment, I noticed an air of detachment about her, as if the car troubles were merely a backdrop to something deeper weighing on her mind.

We left the reception, both of us holding back a curse because we had no umbrella and they had left Lia's car parked at the end of the street. We stopped for a few minutes before we emerged from the shelter that was the garage roof. On the street, several people were standing back from the curb with their umbrellas to avoid being splashed with water from the puddles on the road by the cars rushing by. I pulled up the hood of the black hoodie I was wearing and looked in the direction of where Lia's car was. It was about twenty meters from where we were standing. It wasn't much, but we were going to get wet whether we wanted to or not. Lia was wearing a black beanie and a denim jacket, and she hid her hands in the pockets and shrank into herself. After the amount of money she'd had to pay for the car repair, she wasn't too thrilled about having to walk in the rain. I suggested to come spend the afternoon with me and Jolly at home; we would make popcorn, plop down on the couch and watch a Peaky Blinders with the rain drops pattering outside. However, she had turned down the offer almost reluctantly, stating that Mitch would be waiting for her at home to have lunch together.

It had been a long time since we had spent an evening like this together and I missed her, but I understood that she now had a partner and was spending most of her time at his place .I could no longer ask for her company as I did before. Things had changed a lot in the last few months, much to my dismay. I was comforted by the thought that as soon as we went on tour again, I would be back to spending whole days with her around.

“Do you think it will stop soon?” She asked in a rather low voice. Her eyes were lost in the clouded sky.

“Doesn’t look like it," I replied, also looking up. It had been raining all week, and the weather forecast predicted that the weather would stay about the same for the next two weeks. “We'd better get going.”

“Your car is on the other corner," Lia replied then, looking at me with a worried wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“Don't worry about me. Let's go.”

Lia followed me after tucking her hair under her jacket and tying the buttons up to her neck. She ducked her head and scampered down the street until we were halfway to her car. That's when Mitch's voice stopped us.

“I had a feeling you weren't going to take the bus.”

Lia and I turned around.

Mitch was standing a few feet away from us in the rain, also without an umbrella. He was wearing a leather jacket and raindrops were pooling in his hair and beard. He had half a smile plastered on his face, but it was not a friendly smile. His blue eyes looked at Lia with pedantry.

Beside me, I sensed Lia tense up.

“Mitch," was the first thing she said. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” He questioned back, taking a couple of steps toward us. 

As it had been happening for the past few months, every time the three of us were in the same room, the air seemed to get stale.

“Noah offered to give me a ride," she explained calmly.

“Of course,” the sarcasm was evident in his voice and in his attitude.

When he looked away from her to me, I returned his look with narrowed eyes.

It was no secret that my relationship with Mitch had frayed quite a bit —to say the least— since he started dating my best friend. It’s not like we ever had such a great wonderful friendship, but ever since he'd started going out with Lia there had been a void between us that we both knew what it was due to.

“I thought you were working," she continued.

“I went out for coffee with Enzo and I asked him to give me a ride to the garage, since you were told to pick up your car today at this time, and here I am, unexpectedly surprised by you instead of the other way around,” his words dripping sarcasm as we stood right outside the garage, under the rain.

“What's wrong with you?” Lia countered, her features shrinking.

“What's wrong with me?” he repeated, his anger flaring. “Your car breaks down in the middle of the road and who do you call? Him!” He shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at me drawing disapproving glances from the garage workers and other passersby. “Him, damn it! And now I find you here with him again!”

“You don't have to react like that,” Lia replied, keeping it down, refusing to let her voice escalate.

“Of course I have to! Who's your boyfriend, Lia? Who?!”

“Don't raise your voice at her,” I ordered without moving. However, I was prepared to step between them the moment I considered that he had lost it.

Both of them turned their heads to me. Lia wore an expression of sorrow, shame, and guilt, while Mitch seethed with anger. If it hadn’t been clear to me before, it was now: the dude hated me.  

“I don't think you realize this isn't about you, Noah.”

It was clear he failed to understand that whatever happened to Lia was indeed my business.

Years ago, Lia might have reacted different to Mitch’s outburst, but since she had started going out with him, she seemed to have lost her sense of agency. She didn’t want to acknowledge that the frightened little Lia who once cowered in the corner of her house because her mother or one of the men she had brought home had tried to touch her was there again, making her unable to defend herself.

That day was when I started worrying for real, but Lia wouldn’t let me step up.  

She was no longer a child, and she was with Mitch by choice, and there was a line I wasn’t supposed to cross and that was growing thicker day by day.

“I called Lia a while ago to ask about the car. When she told me she was about to leave the house I offered to pick her up. That's all.”

It was a lie, of course. We had agreed on me picking her up this morning over the texts we exchanged last evening. We had even planned on going out and getting a coffee from a Starbucks nearby and taking a walk around the city center, get a few things we needed, but I guessed those plans were totally cancelled now.  

“I don't give a crap,” Mitch turned his attention back to Lia. “Have you paid the bill yet?”

“Yes," she responded in a robotic tone.  

“Then let's go.” Mitch walked toward her, extending his hand not for her to take, but to collect the car keys. Lia handed them over and he made a gesture for her to follow him.

When I spoke her name in a whisper laden with concern, Lia's eyes reached for mine. She had such huge, beautiful eyes, and I couldn't bear to see what lurked in them, that sadness.

“It's okay, don't worry," she whispered to me. She brushed the fingers of her hand over mine as she turned her back to Mitch. She was hiding the look in her eyes and at the same time trying to reassure me. The pain I saw in them made me furious, but what angered me the most was the small, forced smile he tried to sneak on me under the increasing rain.

Any other time, she would have stood on her tiptoes to give me a kiss on the cheek before leaving. It was something Lia had always done with me. Wherever we were, before disappearing, she always sought me out to say goodbye. It didn't matter if I was busy or at the other end of the house. Lia always kissed me goodbye.

This time, she didn't. And I watched her walk away from me as if a piece of heaven had just been ripped out of my hands.

Mitch took her hand. I let her walk away. She took one last look over her shoulder at me.

Things were not going well.

I felt a tug in my stomach. I knew I would get sick that day, and in a few hours, I would be coughing up flowers.

[subbyfoxelf]

gencon 2024 after action report, part 1: pregame (wednesday) & day 1 (thursday)

under the cut for anyone who doesn't care about all the cool indie rpgs i played over the weekend lmao.

the players!

me!

mommy! ( @vi-the-deer )

grammy! (my & mommy's partner)

cj! (grammy's husband, our metamour)

grammy & cj go to gencon nearly every year, and as grammy had accompanied us to magiccon chicago she figured she'd return the favor by having us along for this year's gencon!

mommy & i flew to st. louis tuesday night to meet up with grammy & cj. our hotel that night was pretty nice in a weird way, it kind of reminded me of a really upscale college dorm with a very modern/ikea aesthetic? it's one of those hotels that's trying really hard not to look like a hotel. but yeah, it was nice! not weirdly, shockingly bad. ([hbomberguy voice] foreshadowing is a literary device--). we belatedly celebrated mommy's birthday with some cake and got some rest to get ready for an awesome roadtrip followed by an awesome convention.

on wednesday we originally wanted to go to the st. louis science center, which i had been to & loved decades ago when i went to college in springfield illinois, but sadly it is not open on wednesdays! so instead we went to the st. louis zoo, which is apparently the biggest free zoo in the country? and i gotta say, it offers an experience that's pretty comparable to most non-free zoos i've been to. (also, yeah, i'm a bit ethically dubious about zoos, but my going to them or not going to them isn't really going to affect whether they exist or not, and from what i could tell this one was very well-run by people who genuinely care about the animals there.)

we saw a number of awesome animals, but i think my favorite part was probably the bird house as birds are among my favorite animals. we spent a few hours having a very pleasant (other than it being extremely hot outside) walk through the zoo, but eventually it was time to get on the road.

i'm not necessarily going to talk about everywhere we stopped for food, but i would be remiss if i didn't mention that our day 1 dinner stop was the burger king. no not a burger king, THE burger king, a tiny restaurant in a tiny town in illinois that won a lawsuit to keep its name because it existed before the larger chain that shares its name. (well, minus the "the.")

i will admit that while i lived in illinois for fully more than half of my life, and even having spent my college years in central illinois rather than the comparatively more progressive chicago area, i was somewhat unprepared to be back in a small town in the middle of nowhere where 90% of the population is white and it feels like you're being stared at when 3 of the 4 of you are very visibly trans. it kind of felt like being back home in a not entirely pleasant way, but no one was outright hostile. and to be honest if you like extremely unhealthy cheeseburgers you can do MUCH worse than the original burger king. the food was kind of incredible.

anyway, we got back on the road, and crashed at a hotel most of the way to indiana. this was another totally normal hotel that wasn't weirdly bad with a staff that was weirdly preemptive about it being weirdly bad. (foreshadowing is a literary dev--)

we got up super early thursday morning, and headed for the con. i've actually been to indianapolis for multiple conventions because when i used to live in chicago the two furry cons (yes i used to go to furry cons & it's not inconceivable that i will do so again at some point) it was the easiest for me to get to were midwest furfest (which was in chicago and huge) and indyfurcon (which was in indianapolis and not nearly as huge, especially considering i went to the first few iterations of it, no idea what it's like these days if it's still a thing). this is the first gencon i've ever been to, and it's markedly larger than any other con i've ever been to. i'm used to a con taking up a fairly large conference hotel or (at most) part of a city's convention center. gencon took up an entire convention center plus multiple nearby hotels plus a literal nfl stadium??? (see the pic above the cut lmao.)

that also wasn't even the only way in which it was larger than any other con i've been to before? it's also the first con i've been to that had a full slate of thursday events as well as the more typical all-day friday/all-day saturday/half-day sunday. heck, most furry cons i've been to don't even have all-day fridays since the first thing that happens is usually an opening ceremony in the early afternoon.

mommy & i booked a couple mtg events on saturday because of course we did, but i was really looking forward to playing a bunch of indie rpgs considering that we have a rather embarrassing pile of them at home considering we've never actually sat down and played one. (tbf i am working on a solo run of the almanac of sanguine paths, but i think that's the first rpg i've played that isn't d&d apart from playing like one session of shadowrun that ended up not going anywhere.)

the first thing mommy & grammy & i did on thursday was play a session of yazeba's bed & breakfast. already we were starting with a game that's drastically different than any i've played before. it's sort of a cozy, queer, story-heavy roleplay experience with predetermined characters & scenarios. you keep track of character progress by making physical changes to the book & character sheets with stickers and such, and you can "unlock" different characters & scenarios & features of the hotel as you play through various chapters.

the vibe of the game is very much that you're taking on roles of already-existing characters and playing through their choices in a storybook, and i have to admit that prior to playing this game i had never really understood the appeal of these sorts of games as creating a very specific character to express myself has always been a big part of the appeal for me with rpgs. this reminded me more of the kind of enjoyment i got from one of my favorite pc games, beacon pines. it's less of a big world where you have adventures and more of an already-written story that you get to participante in and shape with your choices.

the chapters in the book are intentionally given fairly arbitrary chapter numbers and arranged in the book in a pretty random order, which resulted in our gm saying the highly enjoyable words "we'll go ahead and start with the first chapter in the book, which is chapter 3."

each chapter starts with a pretty detailed prompt that reads like the opening few pages of a chapter in a book, ending with a jumping off point for the people playing to take over deciding what their character is doing. there doesn't seem to be any kind of initiative or turn order, but everyone at our table was pretty polite about making sure everyone was getting roughly equal chances to make their choices. the game is also diceless, with chapters having some kind of fixed way of resolving their various actions including taking & giving tokens, flipping coins, picking playing cards, etc.

after you've played through the chapter, there's a passage for the gm to read depending on how successful you were at whatever mechanic the chapter is based on, and you might unlock some boons for your characters, the hotel, or unlock new characters & chapters altogether.

the game also seems to actively encourage you trying out different characters. each chapter seems to have one or two mandatory characters and then allows you to pick any characters you've unlocked, though our gm was super nice and offered to let me use a character who wasn't technically unlocked yet because they had come up in my brief research of the game and i liked the sound of them, but i was too shy to take them up on that in our first chapter.

for the first chapter i played gertrude, and while she wasn't as natural of a fit for me, me playing a moody, anxious teenager also certainly wasn't the biggest stretch anyone's ever asked someone to make while roleplaying.

the character i really enjoyed playing, though, was the moon prince.

i know a big part of the game is probably "trying on" different characters, and i do genuinely want to give more of them a try, but i feel like if i get a chance to play this game a lot more i'll likely end up "maining" the moon prince in a similar way to how i mostly played mercy when i played overwatch but side-mained d.va or lucio at various points in my "career." (yeah, cannot imagine anyone else is out there comparing this rpg to overwatch, but it's the point of comparison i have for this specific aspect, leave me alone.)

i really do enjoy the vibes of this game so i do hope i get to play more of it! mommy did buy the book so there's a decent chance we'll be playing more of it. fingers crossed!

after this, which was our first scheduled game, we kind of flailed around looking for stuff to do. we did end up spending a good amount of time in the exhibition hall but that was hella overwhelming so i was only able to tolerate it for so long. we did get to see wyrmspan being demoed and i get what people are saying when they say it's more crunchy than wingspan. while "wingspan but draogns" is still a phenomenal concept for a game, i will admit that as i saw it being demoed no matter how cool the new mechanics seemed, i kind of found myself missing the cozy vibes & lightly educational aspects of wingspan? i especially wish they had replaced all the bird facts with fake dragon facts rather than just using the whole card for gameplay stuff, but ah well. i'm sure i'll enjoy it if i get around to playing it.

eventually we ended up checking out the "games on-demand" room, and ended up playing a game i've seen a bunch of times at work but never actually played, untitled ghost game.

this game is normally gm-less, but at the convention with players who had never played it before, we had a really awesome gm facilitating it for us. and honestly i think that was a big part of why the game went as well for us as it did, because mommy & i were matched up with an extremely normie couple one of whom unironically said "just don't call me late to dinner" when asked for pronouns which is basically the 20s equivalent of the 90s "i just don't see color" for those who are fortunate enough not to know.

that being said, we managed to tell a really great story together thanks largely to the guidance of our gm but also just... not to get too hippy-dippy (that's for a later game! you'll see.), but this really reminded me of the way games can often bring wildly different people together. everyone is just here to have a good time, and... i don't know, there's something really encouraging about that.

so yeah, basically you all take turns describing different aspects of the setting and then us as a ghost and then the person or place being haunted, you decide if you want to intensify the feelings that the person or place is having or if you want to help them overcome them, and then you flip a coin to see how you do. and in the case of our game we very quickly established an identity as a ghost who, while somewhat mischievous, really did want to help, and it ended up being incredibly wholesome.

i don't know that this is necessarily a game i'll come back to unless i end up thinking someone else will really vibe with it, but i really am glad i had the experience i had playing it. it was genuinely lovely.

once we finished that, grammy had finished her gm shift and it was time to meet up for dinner and chill until the first game all four of us were playing together, weird heroes of public access.

whpa is a 2d6 game in which the players take on the role of a host of a local public access tv host in a town that's about to experience some supernatural fuckery. your can host something like a cooking show, a variety show, a talkshow, etc. i named my character kenny kaiju and gave him a monster movie review show called kaiju kino.

our scenario saw the town being taken over by some kind of demon who was using the station to hypnotize its denizens into slaves. i had very normal feelings about this!

our gm (sorry, "station manager") was pretty cool and i had a lot of fun with this game. it wasn't my favorite of the weekend or anything, but i think it solidly delivered on its premise and i wouldn't mind playing it again sometime.

anyway, that was a wrap on day 1! i was pretty exhausted thanks to a combination of jetlag and getting up early to drive the rest of the way to indy, and i think all of us were in a similar boat (even though grammy & cj weren't dealing with jetlag, having only crossed one timezone). so we headed to the hotel which was... pretty awful tbh.

like, it's genuinely fine, it's not like we were going to spend much time there doing anything other than sleeping, but the weird preemptive defensiveness of the staff made it much worse. my favorite part was when we were surprised that there wasn't an elevator and the front desk clerk who was nowhere near us yelled that um actually this was built before the americans with disabilities act so it didn't need an elevator. um, ok, cool? really set a tone there. (they also made some really weird choices like actively removing chairs from the breakfast area on sunday like they were actively trying to shoo all the convention attendees out of the hotel faster. like, y'all, DON'T worry. we were NOT planning on lingering.)

again, it was fine, it wasn't wildly unsafe or anything, i don't want to come off like i'm being overly complainy. but i will say that it is NOT very obvious from their website that the hotel is completely inaccessible to anyone with mobility issues. which fortunately isn't really any of the four of us, but like... i've literally seen events be more clear about the accessibility of buildings they do not own than this hotel is about the place you're relying on being able to sleep at? (heck, i've ORGANIZED events at older venues that unfortunately weren't accessible, and we were always VERY clear about that in every form of advertising. as far as i can tell, literally the only way you can tell that about this hotel on their website is that there's a small tab on the features that's greyed out instead of white. i know most people with mobility issues likely check very closely for this kind of thing so hopefully no one has ended up in an unfortunate situation, but like... seriously, do better.)

and like, yeah i get that it would be kinda difficult to install an elevator in a building that wasn't meant to have one, but you know what's not difficult? adding as many power outlets as a modern hotel should have. having walls that don't have holes in them. having mattresses that aren't lumpy & stiff as fuck. bringing new towels a single time? or failing that, when we ask for more towels at the desk giving us towels rather than not being able to find any and just giving us bathmats instead??? having dressers that aren't literally missing all their drawers?????? this was a hotel owned by a large hotel chain. there is no reason it should be this crummy & depressingly poorly maintained.

again, it's fine, but absorbing all this while we were all super sleep deprived and overwhelmed from the con was kind of a... Moment. we did our best to take it in stride, though, and crashed to get ready for another day of gaming!

[drabbles-mc]

Appointment Only

Tattoo Artist!JJ x F!Reader

Moodboard and Fic created for @the-slumberparty Across the Universe Challenge: choose any AU for any character

Warnings: mentions of drugs, language

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I haven't written AU's like this for characters in years but this was actually super fun to write! It was nice to do something a little different with JJ, age him up a bit and give him his own life. I just want all of the good and fun things for him. Plus I think the idea of him with a bunch of tattoos is just 💯

OBX Taglist: @garbinge @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

JJ unlocked the front door of his shop, reaching above his head as he walked through, slapping the top of the doorframe. He whistled as he walked through the small shop, twirling his keyring around his finger. He flipped on the lights as he went, illuminating the walls covered in flash and other artwork by him and the two other people who tattooed in the shop with him.

He didn’t have any appointments booked until the afternoon, but a few days out of the week and if he was feeling motivated, he’d go in and open up the shop a couple hours early in case any walk-ins came along with something he could crank out before his appointments for the day. There would usually be a tour-on or two looking for simple things that he could take care of quickly. Nothing that really flexed his creative muscles, but money was money and he had no problem taking it from rich tour-ons.

Once all the lights were on and he checked that everything was in order, he hooked up the shop phone to the speakers and put some music on. When he was finally happy with the song choice, he went and flipped the “closed” sign to “open”. He also propped the door open. It negated the bells that hung above it, but to him there was no point in being so close to the beach if he couldn’t hear some of the waves when things quieted down.

It wasn’t as though there was a long line of people waiting to come in. Since that was the case, JJ took the opportunity to work on some other designs he’d started. He had a few for specific clients that just needed some finishing touches, but what he really wanted to work on was a fresh idea that had come to him in the middle of the night the night before. He’d thrown a crude sketch of it onto a piece of scrap paper at his house so he wouldn’t lose the gist of it, but he was itching to really start putting it together. He grabbed his tablet that had all of his designs saved to it, plopped down in a chair, and got to work.

He was hunched over his tablet, stylus flying in his hand when he heard someone knock against the open glass front door. Looking up, the furrow of focus in his brow softened almost instantly when he saw you standing there.

You gave an awkward smile and a small wave when he looked at you. Clearing your throat, you said, “Hey, I was, um, I was wondering if anyone here had time for a consult?” You glanced around. “Guess I should just be asking you, huh?” you said with a soft laugh.

He flashed you a smile as he leaned forward, setting his tablet to the side. “Yea, it’s just me right now. Everyone else comes in later.”

You nodded. “Right. Well, then,” you walked closer to him, “do you have time for a consult?”

He was practically beaming as he stood up from his seat. “I think I just might.” He held his hand out for you to shake and that’s when you got a good glimpse of the tattoos going up the entire inside of his arm. “I’m JJ.”

You shook his hand as you gave him your name in return. “Nice to meet you.” You felt like you were supposed to be giving more of an introduction of yourself but you didn’t really know where to start. “I just moved here a few weeks ago, so I’m still getting a lay of the land a bit.”

“Well,” he chuckled as he pulled an extra chair up by his for you to sit in, “welcome to Paradise on Earth.”

You laughed as you sat down across from him. “Thank you.”

“Actually, before we get started…” He motioned for you to wait as he got up from his seat. He walked to the small area that passed for a seating area and grabbed one of the binders from the small table. He handed it over to you. “This is pretty much all of my recent work. You can tell me what you’re thinking for a tattoo, and I’m happy to help ya, but if you don’t like my style there isn’t much of a point, right?”

You laughed, nodding as you opened the binder. “I guess that’s true.”

You paused as you looked at the photos of his work in front of you. Your eyes grew wide as you took them all in. Most of them were nautical-themed, which wasn’t surprising to you given where you were. There were a handful of fun, silly tattoos as well, things you were certain had to be inside hokes to the people who got them.

All the pieces were well done, though. Bright colors, clean lines—it all looked crisp. You looked back and forth between JJ and his body of work. He wasn’t looking at you, instead looking at the page you were on. You drank in the sight of him in his cargo shorts and cut-off shirt, his boots covering some of the tattoos on his legs. Looking at him and his designs right next to each other, it all made sense.

“These are beautiful, JJ,” you finally said.

He smiled shrugging nonchalantly. “I do alright.” He paused. “Thank you, though. Still, you know, wanna talk about what you were planning?”

Your smile stretched side. “Yea, definitely.”

“Alright,” he said with a nod as he grabbed his notebook, “tell me what you’re thinking.”

The two of you sat and talked for a while, mostly about your tattoo but he did get around to asking you a bit about yourself. Any time his eyes weren’t glued to the paper in front of him, he was looking at you. The smirk that would curl the end of his lips as he listened to you talk instantly made your face heat up. You tried your best to stay focused and on track, but it was hard not to get distracted by his bright blue eyes staring back at you. You kept it together enough to ask some questions of your own, which was how you found out he’d spent his whole life in the Outer Banks, him and all of his friends. From the glint in his eyes when he talked about them, you had to assume they were a fun group of people.

Eventually, your conversation began to draw to a close. He set his pen down and looked at you. “I should be able to pull together some basic ideas to send your way, see how you’re feeling about ‘em. If you like one, we can get right to it.”

It almost seemed too simple, but you weren’t upset about it. “That’s great! Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” He paused. “There, uh, there a good way to get in touch with you?”

“Shit,” you said with a laugh. “Yea, let me give you my number.”

He walked with you towards the door, both of you saying goodbye. He promised to be in touch with you sooner rather than later, and you couldn’t even try to hide your excitement at the prospect of it. You told yourself it was just because of the tattoo.

JJ watched for a few seconds as you made your way down the street, lingering for longer than maybe he normally would have or should have. He shook his head at himself as he turned and walking back so he was completely inside the shop. When he went back to his little work area and grabbed his tablet, he suddenly found himself getting attached to a brand new idea, unable to try and focus on anything else as he grabbed the notebook with all the notes he’d taken during your conversation with him. There was a small smile on his face as he got to work.

He stayed up later than he cared to admit over the next few nights working on the design the two of you had discussed. More than a few times he was tempted to reach out and talk to you, show you what he had done so far. But he wanted to make sure that when he showed you his idea, it was good. He was also tempted to reach out and ask more questions, blaming it on needing more information for the design but really just wanting to talk to you more.

Eventually, finally, he had something that he felt comfortable showing you. He checked the time before sending it, wondering if maybe it was too late. But he figured that worst case scenario, you’d just see it when you woke up in the morning.

“First draft- let me know what you think.” He typed it out and attached the picture of the design before sending it off to you.

He set his phone on his nightstand, figuring that he wasn’t going to hear back from you until the following morning. He was just reaching up to turn his bedside lamp off when his phone buzzed against the top of his nightstand. Tilting the screen towards him, he couldn’t hide his surprise at the fact that you’d already gotten back to him.

“I love it!”

He smiled, unlocking his phone and replying to you. The two of you texted back and forth, firming up the final details of what you wanted for the design. You also asked him when he thought he would be able to get you in for an appointment. You would’ve been lying if you tried to say that you weren’t hoping for something as soon as possible. On top of the excitement of getting a new tattoo, you were excited to have a reason to stop in and see him.

“I’ll see you next week!” you texted excitedly when he’d given you a date and time for the appointment.

“Sounds good. See you then” JJ was glad that the excitement on his face couldn’t be seen through a text message.

Over the next couple days, you wondered if it was unprofessional to just text JJ simply because you wanted to talk to him and get to know him better. You knew it probably was, but you still wanted to do it. More times than you would ever admit to anyone else, you went back and reread the short text conversation between the two of you.

By the time your appointment rolled around, it took all you had not to speed-walk down the block to the shop. The door was already propped open when you got there, so you walked right in. Unlike the last time you’d stopped by, it wasn’t just you and JJ this time. The two other artists were in the shop, each of them working on their own clients. The place was filled with music, conversation, and the lull of multiple tattoo machines going at the same time.

“Hey!” JJ piped up from where he was sitting at his work station.

He just had on a plain white t-shirt on with a pair of shorts and his boots, but it still made your brain go totally blank for a moment. You watched him as he stood up and walked over to you, greeting you again before you finally got your brain to cooperate so you could return the favor.

“So,” he walked with you to the table where you’d be laying while he worked, “you ready to get to work?”

You laughed as you nodded, setting your bag on the floor. “Yea, but I mean I guess I should be the one asking you that, right? I just have to lay here while you do all the work.”

The comment got a laugh out of both of you. You watched, twisting your hands in front of you as JJ printed off the stencil to place on your leg. You rolled up the bottom of your shorts so he’d have easier access to the outside of your thigh. Goosebumps broke out over your skin when his fingers grazed along your leg so he could press the stencil on. You wanted to bury your face in your hands at your reaction but he didn’t say anything about it one way or the other, which you were thankful for.

“Here,” he said as he gestured for you to stand in front of the full-length mirror by his station. “How’s that?”

Your entire face lit up as you looked down at your leg, and it was only the stencil. “That’s perfect!” You looked at the thin purple lines that were covering your thigh. “Think we can get it all done today?”

He laughed, shrugging as he helped you hop up onto the table. “If you think you can sit for the whole thing, I can get it all done.”

“If I can sit for it,” you repeated back, your tone just on the joking side of mocking him. “I think I’ll be fine.”

He chuckled at your response, holding his hands up in surrender. “If you say so.”

You managed to find a comfortable position to lay in while he worked that would make it easy for him to do your tattoo, but also make it easy for you to be able to talk to him and watch him while he worked. You kept yourself propped up on your elbows, leaning so that you could see it as he passed the needle over your skin. Every now and then your leg would twitch, but it was never enough to throw him off from what he was doing.

He kept the conversation going with you despite the fact that he hardly ever took his eyes off of his work. You didn’t mind it, taking the opportunity to be able to stare at him without being caught or called out. Each time he laughed or shook his head at something you said, all you wanted to do was reach over and run your fingers through his hair. You didn’t, of course, but you really wanted to.

A few hours into it, he looked over at you and asked if you needed a break. You couldn’t deny that getting up and being able t stretch your legs sounded like nice. JJ held his hand out to help you sit up and get off the table. You hopped down, the leg that he’d been tattooing feeling like it was still mostly asleep and you stumbled a step. His grip on your hand tightened and he allowed you to lean onto him until the tingling in your leg subsided a bit.

Stepping back, you let out a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the way your face felt like it was on fire. “Sorry about that.”

He shrugged, the smirk curling the edge of his mouth making you think that he didn’t mind it in the slightest. “All good.” He nodded towards the mirror. “Go check out the progress.”

You walked over to the mirror and looked at what he had done so far. You were already excited as you had watched him work, but being able to see it all in the mirror increased your excitement tenfold. Your eyes widened and you fought the urge to reach down and run your fingers over it. The skin was still sensitive and he wasn’t anywhere near done yet. All of the outlining was complete though, and he had just started the shading.

You’d been so enthralled with the ink on your leg that you hadn’t noticed the fact that JJ stepped in close behind you, popping up in the mirror and looking just over your shoulder. “Whatcha think?”

You almost stumbled right back into him out of surprise. You chuckled as you met his eyeline through the reflection of the mirror. “I love it!”

He smirked at you as he looked in the mirror. You felt like there was something more that one of you should be saying but neither of you said anything. He lingered closely over your shoulder, and as you took a deep breath you could smell the bodywash and faint scent of weed on him. You gnawed lightly at the inside of your lips as you fought the urge to say or do something stupid.

“Ready to hop back on the table?” he finally asked.

You nodded, turning around so that you were facing him. “Yea, I think I’m good.”

Once you were back on the table, JJ got right back to work. He didn’t say anything for a little while, just focusing on shading in your tattoo, listening to the thrum of the machine in his hand. You watched him contentedly as he worked, something to take your mind off the stinging sensation that was happening as he continued to pass the needles over the same patch of skin.

When JJ adjusted his leg, he brought one foot up and braced it against one of the supports under the table. You looked down, and along with the other tattoos that were winding up his leg, you saw one that didn’t quite look like the others. It looked crude, simple. But he clearly hadn’t covered it up even though he easily could’ve.

“That your first one?” you asked him.

His hand stilled, pulling the machine away from your leg as he looked over at you. Confusion covered his entire face. “What?”

“Your tattoo.” You reached, lightly tapping it with your fingertips. “This one.”

He looked down, a smile spreading across his face as he saw the one you were pointing to. “Yea,” he said with a nod, “that was my first one. Did it myself.”

“Stick and poke?”

He laughed. “You know it.”

“That’s where it all started, then?”

He smiled, shrugging as he got back to work on your leg. “Yea, I guess so. Lucky for you I’ve gotten a lot better since then.”

You hummed in approval. “Lucky for me.”

It was such a relief when JJ did one final swipe over your leg when he was done. He helped you off the table again, letting you get another good look at your tattoo before grabbing the wrap to cover it. You watched intently as he crouched down next to you, deftly wrapping your leg and taping it in place.

You tried not to think too hard about the warmth of his hand against your leg as he secured the wrap around your thigh. You forced yourself not to stare at him, instead looking up at the ceiling above you. A very large part of you was glad that everyone else in the shop was preoccupied so they wouldn’t see the flustered look on your face.

When he stood back up, JJ was nearly chest to chest with you. You let out a quiet huff of a laugh, unable to look him in the eyes. He waited for you to finally look at him in the eyes and the smile that was on his face nearly made your leg give out again.

“You should be all set.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yea, o-okay. Thank, thank you. Seriously,” you looked down at the fresh ink on your leg, “it’s amazing.”

“Looks good on you,” he said, the smirk audible in his voice.

You laughed, biting down on your bottom lip. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

You busied yourself with getting the money together to pay him. “As long as I make an appointment, right?” you joked as you handed him the cash.

He shook his head as he took the money from you. “You got my number, right?” He looked up at you from counting the bills in his hand. “Just text me—I’ll make time.”

Just when it felt like your face had finally cooled down it felt like it was on fire all over again. The amount of self-control it took not to giggle was embarrassing and gun to your head you would never admit it. Instead, you nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

The two of you walked over to the door of the shop again, and you found yourself wishing you knew what to say to him. The two of you lingered in the doorway, you picking at the straps of your bag and JJ watching you.

“Anything comes up, or if you have any questions, just text me. Or, you know, drop by,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Or stop by, huh?” you asked with a small smile. You shook your head slightly as you chuckled. “Thank you, JJ.”

“Yea, no—” he stopped short as you stepped in and gave him a quick hug, recovering quickly as he hugged you back, “no problem.”

Pulling away, you saw the slightly surprised look on his face. “Sorry, sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll, uh,” he reached and brushed his fingers against your arm, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yea,” you said as you finally stepped outside the shop, “I’ll have my whole leg sleeved up before I know it.”

He chuckled as he watched you start walking down the sidewalk. “Let’s hope!” he called after you.

Turning around, you faced him with a smile on your face, effectively making yourself walk backwards down the sidewalk. “Later, JJ.”

Reaching up, he braced his hands against the top of the doorframe, leaning with a smile. “Later,” he replied, trying to sound much more casual than he really felt as he watched you walk away one more time.

[writingbyshiloh]

Part 4. Cooper

Series Masterlist

CW: domestic red I think? (possibly) OOC Cooper, FBI!Reader 

AN: I pictured the show to be Euphoria, but no specific details so it can be any show with a drug dealer character. IDK Cooper's official rank and I am scared of spoilers so we just went with the assistant director. Just realized that if you read all the parts back 2 back then they are very similar but also ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. No beta

------

Reddington in the post office is a scene that never fails to surprise you. In the early days of the task force, he seems to be there frequently. As the years went, he saw less and less of the walls inside.  He never goes to the post office if he can help it, and you don’t blame him. 

You see Dembe nudge Reddington, a silent indicator for him to start talking about what he needs the team to do this week. 

As Reddington lectures, Liz interrupts and Aram pulls up the supporting documents and photos. Red usually tells Liz the details, and she tells the rest of the team.

You knew a tiny bit. He left shipping documents on his kitchen table a few nights ago while he went to the bathroom. He wouldn’t just leave documents lying around if he didn’t have a reason for you to see them. 

To keep yourself sane you set boundaries. If you're not working, or if someone isn't in immediate danger it is not your problem what Reddington is doing. This came after a series of him dropping clues and waiting for you to put the details together. 

You still listen, minus a few instances where you zone out thinking about Reddington's suit, waiting for the shipping documents to make some sense to you, but nothing yet. 

“Liz, you go with Reddington to the shipping docks. You two” Cooper points at you and Ressler “see what you can find with -” 

“I’ll go Ressler” Elizabeth cut in. 

Everyone turns to look at Liz. 

“I’ll go with Reddington” you suggest, pronunciation wobbly. You’re so used to Red, the “ington” feels off. 

“That was fast on the jump” Red notes, once you were out of the earshot of the group, preparing to go to the docks. 

You shrug. “It's so nice out. And I can not get caught in a fight between you two.” 

Red and Liz fighting always makes you feel like you’re in the middle. Liz would sometimes rant to you about Reddington, which never fails to make you feel like a bad friend.  On the other hand, Red keeps his thoughts about Elizabeth to himself in times like these. 

---

“Do you understand it yet?” Reddington asks. 

You frown. You both have been walking around the docks for an hour, trying to find something on this week's blacklist. Technically, you’re looking for clues, Reddington is watching you, trying to see the exact moment you put the pieces together. 

You admire how he pushes you to do your best, to get better at both your job and thinking like him, but now it’s on your nerves. Having elected to ignore him, you exaggerate checking the number on the shipping container. 

“My god, you agents are so meticulous. You don’t need every number from every crate.” Red observes. 

“I’m not taking every number, just what I think is important.” 

“That seems to be the majority, dear.” 

You shoot him a look over your shoulder due to the use of the pet name in the field. 

He puts his hands up in surrender, but he is smiling. 

You’re saved from a reply by your phone, Aram calling with no doubt some important information. 

---

 That night, Reddington visits you. He says he can't spend the entire night but has a few free hours. You don't know what he has to do before or after your time together, but it's not your problem. 

“Do you watch this every week?” Reddington asks, glancing at your television.

“Yeah. We talk about it at work,” you respond, placing your water on the table, and settling onto your couch next to him. 

“Who’s everyone?” 

“It started as me ‘nd Aram but then Samar started watching with him. I think Liz is in season one. Dembe too maybe?”

You tip your head against his shoulder, feet propped up on your coffee table as the show started playing the introduction. He had one of your pens (technically a pen you took from work) in his hand while he mulls over one of his crossword puzzles? Sudoku? Sudoku with words? Red showed you once how it works and once was enough. 

---

“That's no way to run a drug business!” 

You turned your head to the side to look at him, now sitting on the edge of your seat watching the show. 

“I thought you weren't watching.” 

“I wasn’t, but this is ridiculous!” he huffs. “He's not even marking up the price at all? And his storage? I mean it is ridiculous! No wonder the police were called.” 

“He's just a minor character” 

“For running a business like that he should be!” 

“Just watch the show.” 

---

You were happy to go into the post office today, if only for a chance to talk to Aram about the show.  

“Did you see the new episode?” Aram’s words hit you before you even left the elevator. 

“Of course! I didn't see the big arrest coming. And that fight?!” 

Aram walks with you to the central part of the floor, the rest of the team waiting, both you and Aram dying to talk about yesterday's episode. You catch Reddington in the office out of the corner of your eye and can’t resist winding him up. 

“I can’t believe the arrest! Forgot the rest of the prom, I thought he was going to keep dealing drugs for the whole show,” you exclaim, slightly too loud to make sure Red can hear. 

‘My god, he was the worst drug dealer I've ever seen. Ressler would do better!” Reddington jokes. Aram's head snaps to him. 

“Mr. Reddington, I didn’t know you watched the show!” 

“How far along are you?” you chime in. 

“My beloved watches it. I caught a few minutes.” Red smoothly deflects.

You freeze, never hearing him call you that before, but you like it. 

“Do you want to join our text chain?” Aram eagerly asks. 

Cooper saves Reddington from telling the task force that he doesn’t know how to use a cell phone. 

The assistant director launches into some of the information that the team rounded up yesterday. Numbers you took note of pop up and you make a mental note to tell Red “I told you so”, no doubt knowing that he wants to tell you the same, for taking too many numbers. 

Once everyone is back up to speed and assignments are dolled out, Cooper catches you at your desk. “I need to speak to you in my office.” 

You nod and follow him while you feel anxiety roll in your stomach. It could be good news but you can’t think of anything good. More bad news flashes through your mind as you climb the stairs. You could be suspended, fired, or anything else due to Reddington. And there was that one time you made a questionable decision in the field which could be coming back to bite you. 

“Close the door, please,” Cooper asks quietly. 

You nod, the door firmly shut as you sit, forcing body language to act neutral and calm. 

“I wanted to talk to you about fieldwork.” Cooper starts. You force yourself to make eye contact and not start fiddling with anything on his desk. 

“You’ve been going into the field with Reddington more. Any reason?” 

“Can I be honest?” you ask, trying to come up with something to say. 

“Please.” Cooper leans forward in his chair, awaiting your response. 

“It makes me uncomfortable when Agent Keen and Reddington fight. I felt that if I go with him yesterday, then they could cool off.” 

“Uncomfortable how?” 

You sigh. 

“Like, he killed Sam, and then she faked her death to get away from him, and no one knows how or if they’re related…” You train off, not enjoying thinking of reasons Red and Liz fight, but more than happy to if you can keep your job. 

Cooper nods, understanding. There's an unspoken feeling in the post office when they fight. 

“And do you mind? Going into the field with Reddington.” 

“Not as much as the fighting.” 

Cooper nods again, posture more relaxed before he continues. “I noticed you’ve been working less.” 

Your face reacts before you could try to stay neutral. Of course, Cooper would notice. You’ve lost track of the number of times he turned off the lights at the post office before he leaves late at night and you had to scramble in the dark to turn them back on again. 

“I’m sorry, I can start staying later again.” You say, trying to fumble your way through apologizing. 

Assistant Director Cooper holds up his palms for you to slow down. 

“Your hours are fine. Is everything okay with you?” 

The question shouldn’t take you by surprise. Things are more fun with Reddington as part of your life, but there's more stress. The stress of hiding the relationship mostly, especially from Liz.

“I, uh, started seeing a guy recently? So I have a reason to spend time outside the post office?” you want to speak in sentences but you’re nervous in case this is a leadup to something else.

He nods like he understands. 

“I’m happy for you. Now we just need to get Ressler a girl.” 

You both share a smile, while you silently thank your lucky stars. 

“Is there anything else, sir?” you ask, arms ready to push you up and out of your chair. 

“No, that's all. Thank you.” 

You nod and get up. “Do you want me to leave the door open?” 

“You can close it. Thanks.” 

You pull the door shut behind you and glance down at the post office. Does Red also get hit with this stuff? You wonder. You’ll have to tell him later, once the case concludes. 

---

Tag list: @soraya-daydreams, @horrorqueen22, @wild-rose-35, @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek, @zombieskullxz, @rhepworth, @fanficismydrug, @btsjiminsthings, @emilynissangtr, @navs-bhat, @thatonerandomsimpinthecorner

[its-ticsticstics]

Hey, I saw your post on things that can give you tics and what can’t and I have a few questions.

About 1/2 a year ago I developed tics, and I mean BAD. Happened over the course of a few days and it hit me like a damn semi (mainly because I’m in middle school in a small town and people are assholes, they’ve chilled out by now though).

A few months ago I went in to see a professional psychologist (at least I think that’s what he was, it’s something along the lines of that), when I got my results back I was told that the only things I had were minor ADHD, depression, and severe social anxiety. I was told that literally all of my major issues (unable to stay still, randomly going nonverbal, inability to make eye contact, and the tics) were because of the anxiety and now I’m seeing a bunch of posts like yours and I really don’t know who to believe.

Could you maybe provide me with a few articles so I can figure, like, figure a few things out?

(Also I would like to add that I have 41 tics as of current)

Hope I’m not being too too much of a bother/rude! Have a good day/night/afternoon.

(One more thing, I am writing this on 2 hours of sleep so anything I said that was stupid/grammar mistakes can be blamed on that)

First!

I can't diagnose you, but in my almost (haven't graduated from uni yet) professional opinion would to get a Cunningham blood panel test for PANS/PANDAS/BGE.

The sudden onset paired with periods of mutism (inability to speak) along with tics sounds like the source could be brain inflammation in the very early stages.

If a blood test rules this out, it could just be the classic Tourettic Triad of symptoms of ADHD/OCD/ASD but this would also need to be diagnosed by a neurologist. Reading about tics is not enough to give yourself a diagnosis- it is a neurological disorder and not the same as self diagnosing ADHD or autism. People can DIE from misdiagnosed tics.

Unfortunately, especially those who are AFAB, are likely to be misdiagnosed and have a harder time being diagnosed with a tic disorder or Tourettes than AFAB counterparts.

The fact that you weren't sent to a neurologist to evaluate your symptoms is medical neglect and you deserved better.

Second-

The argument that anxiety can't cause tics really comes from the fact that there are NO studies to prove anxiety causes tics. There are no studies to say they don't, because there is no clinical or scientific evidence that they do in the first place. It's sort of like asking "use scientific studies to prove to me that Santa Claus doesn't exist" .. You can't find those studies because everyone already knows Santa Clause doesn't exist so no one does a study on that in the first place. In this scenario, anxiety tics and Santa Claus are the same thing.

All studies agree that anxiety can worsen EXISTING tics, but none say that anxiety alone c a u s e s tics. Those are two very very different things. Ticcing when anxious does not mean being anxious makes you tic, it means that being anxious worsens and makes noticable tics that you already have.

What I can give resources to though, are genuine Tourettes and Tic Disorder websites:

[farfromstrange]

hi can i request for angst w no comfort, matt murdock fic wherein the reader died i like angst 🥲, specially your work "angel on the roof" thank you !!!

Thank you so much for your request, lovely! I was so excited (that sounds horrible in this context) when I saw it and I was even more excited when I read what you requested (Yeah, it still sounds horrible). Angst is my forte, and I've really been in an angsty mood lately. So, I wrote this in two hours and I cried while writing it. I hope you like it! (And I also hope you're doing okay, sweetheart.) This is not about suicide like the other hurt/no comfort fic, but it still hurts the same. I hope I could live up to your expectations!

Back To December | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: He fell for you hard and fast, but all good things eventually slip through Matt Murdock's fingers, and he is left alone all over again.

Warnings: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, Character death, mentions of blood, there's a really creepy guy at the beginning (but no sexual assault!), yeah this is just angsty as fuck

Word Count: 3.2k (I got carried away)

It’s a cold December afternoon. The remains of this week’s snowfall are covering the ground and it’s cold, so cold, but he can barely feel it. Something else, something colder, something far more painful is creeping up his spine. It’s not because his clothes are soaked or the snowflakes that have latched onto his hair. He feels as if the floor has been ripped out under his feet, and it has been a long time since he last felt this way. Loneliness has become his closest companion over time and he got used to always losing and hardly ever winning. Over time, he got used to grieving, he got used to being left, and he got used to a painful hollowness in his chest that eventually started to occur more often. The hole in his chest has always been there, but merely a few days ago it had been somewhat filled. 

Matt Murdock has never experienced much happiness in his life. He tried to fight the demons in his head, but eventually, he succumbed to them. He succumbed to the claws that tore at his chest and dragged him down into an endless abyss. He used to associate the color gray with his life because when he thought about it, there has never been much color. He got used to existing rather than living until someone stepped into his life that was anything but dreary. 

It was in summer, he remembers, the third of July when he was walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen on his way home from work. The noise of the city moved into the back of his mind as he tried to focus on anything but the deafening sound of injustice and everyday life. They often blurred together and mixed when he wasn’t focusing, and sometimes that was worse than when he purposely focused on his surroundings. 

He was just casually walking when he heard the distinctive fast sound of footsteps straight ahead. He tilted his head curiously, not sure if it was just another teenager playing tag with their friends in the middle of the night or someone walking fast, or perhaps someone who needed his help. It was then he stretched his senses out to judge the situation, but by the time he focused on the erratic heartbeat coming his way, the person who it belonged to already stood in front of him. 

It was the third of July, he knows, when you came into his life. 

You were just walking home from work when a man emerged from behind one of the cars parked along the street of the shop you were working at. You had closed early, which was rare but not impossible, especially not with the heat so heavy that no one wanted to set foot outside. Even with air conditioning, you felt like dying every time you went to work. 

You tried not to think too much about the stranger, your keys already clutched tightly in your hand, but when you sped up, the man sped up too. It was then your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You were a terrible fighter and would have broken your thumb before you could have caused any serious damage, so instead, you ran. You ran until the streets got lighter and finally, God finally, someone else walked the street you were on. 

Not paying much mind to who the stranger was, you stopped right in front of him. Your hand caught his sleeve - you felt guilty because well, if the glasses hadn’t been an indicator, his cane surely was, and using a blind guy to get out of being mugged or God forbid, possibly even raped, felt wrong but he seemed like the kind of guy that wouldn’t mind helping. It was something about him that made you feel safe, almost. 

“I need you to pretend we know each other,” you said entirely out of breath, one of your sweaty strands of hair caught on your dry lips. 

He frowned, tilting his head in the direction of the other man’s steps and he realized just what you were running from. 

“Please,” you begged, and he could only imagine the panic in your eyes. 

He licked his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, just- oh, for fuck’s sake! Kiss me.”

“Sorry, what?” Matt stammered. He thought of many things, one of them being completely screwing his disguise and beating whoever was following you into a puddle until he couldn’t walk anymore, but your request was… odd and a complete surprise, at that. 

The more he thought about it though, it made sense. The man would only ease up if he saw Matt as your boyfriend and not a strange blind guy. 

You looked at him expectantly and the closer the man behind you came, the faster your heart beat. If he wasn’t willing to help you, you would have to run again. 

Fortunately, he caught himself fast enough to pull you in by the waist - his strength surprised you - and pressed his lips to yours. That he would do it, you never expected. It had been a weird request, of course, but the only thing you thought of that would make a possible rapist turn the other way. 

You caught yourself on his arms, leaning into the kiss as if it were real, and partly it felt like it. He was an amazing kisser, you noticed, and if this had been a date you would have thoroughly enjoyed it, but the only thought in your mind was getting rid of the man that was following you. Or had been following you, anyway, because upon seeing the kiss that looked more realistic than it was, he stopped and turned back around. 

When the stranger pulled away, you forgot how to breathe for a second. Your cheeks flushed, the blood rushing to your head immediately, and you pressed a hand in front of your mouth. Matt thought it was cute, although he had to contain himself from hunting down the man that even led you to make such a rash decision in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact that he was blind that made you believe he was on the good side, and the kiss seemed to have saved your ass, which he was glad about because fighting someone right in front of the eyes of an unknown stranger was not on his to-do list. The kiss hadn’t been either, but it had already happened and the awkward silence made matters worse. 

Your breath hitched in your throat again. “I’m so sorry,” you said, muffled through your hand. 

“Um,” Matt forgot how to speak. 

“I just wasn’t sure what to do and you know, most men don’t take no for an answer and I thought- God, I am so sorry. You probably think I’m a psycho now.”

He quickly caught himself again. “Oh, no. No, I absolutely don’t think that,” he said. “I was just… surprised?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“You were scared, I understand.”

“I really didn’t know what else to do.”

It was the truth, and the more he spoke to you, the more he realized your heartrate was going down. You were safe. 

“Okay,” you bit your lip, “Okay, I should probably go. Nice meeting you. I’m just gonna-” as you distanced yourself, you pointed behind yourself in the direction you were originally headed, “Yeah, I’m just gonna go.”

“Wait,” Matt heard himself object to your attempt to leave. 

You halted, surprised he would even want to talk to you after what happened. A small smile rested on his lips. The same lips you had just kissed. 

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

The first time he heard your name was on July third, the night dark and hot, and it was the same night you kissed him for the first time. It was a kiss out of desperation, a way to save yourself from the grabby hands of a stranger, and yet, when he asked for your name, he received an answer. 

“I’m Matt,” he introduced himself. 

July third was the day you came into his life and from then on, you refused to leave. His senses got used to your scent, your taste, and the feel of your skin under his fingers when he had first kissed you. His ears got used to the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your name on his tongue became natural. 

One meeting turned into two and eventually, only a month after, in fact, he realized he had done the one thing he never expected himself to do ever again: he fell for you. He fell fast and hard, the first tint of color in his dull life, and the pain in his chest got a little more bearable with you by his side. You became the light in the darkness, the one person he could always turn to, and when you found out who he was - who the man behind the black mask was, you didn’t run. 

You found out one night when you used your key to get into his apartment. He hadn’t answered any of your calls and he felt guilty, but then you stood in his apartment just as he walked through the door. He had a huge gash on his side and he was sure he wouldn’t make it to the couch in time. When he heard your heartbeat and the way it jumped when you saw him, he was sure death would be kinder than having to listen to you leaving, but the anticipated moment of rejection never came. 

The light of his life stayed. You had dropped everything to hold him up. You patched him up and you held him as he writhed in pain, and when he was finally patched up and safe, he caught your wrist. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked him. 

He hissed, not sure if it was because of emotional or physical pain, but perhaps both. You sounded small, worried almost, but the sound of your heartbeat was the most familiar to him and so he knew that you weren’t scared, you were merely curious. 

And that was when he knew that he had fallen head over heels in love with you.

“I wanted to protect you,” he said. 

The thought of losing you had been his greatest fear. You were the color he desperately needed, the reason for him to keep going. He thought that, with your help, he could make it. He thought his life could finally be normal. 

But even the most beautiful of flowers die eventually. It’s a slow death, usually, a constant process of withering. With you though, it was fast and it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. You weren’t a flower, you were human and he realized that too late one night. 

On July third, he swore to protect you, always. He swore to save you, to hold you and take care of you until his dying breath. On the third of December though, his worst fear became reality, and suddenly, the tint of color in his life was flickering like the billboard outside of his apartment that you had often complimented. The tint of color in his life, the beautiful flower, the light that kept him going, stood right in front of him and he barely had the time to open his mouth when the shot rang out. 

Why did you have to follow him, anyway? You were foolish but you had been so worried, you stormed out of your apartment, determined to find him. The rooftop you finally found him on was dark just like his life had been before you. 

You were so relieved to see him alive, you didn’t notice the dark shadow on the floor or the clinging of metal that filled the air. “Matt!” you called out, but his mouth opened and instead of words, you could hear the faint blow of a gun. 

The shot rang out and for a moment you thought it hit him. For a moment, you were worried, and then the sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you knew, the shot wasn’t meant for him.

His arms caught you as you fell. Matt wasn’t sure what was worse, the feeling of your blood running through his fingers as he pushed on the gaping wound on your abdomen or the erratic sound of your fading heartbeat as it tried its best to beat for you, to supply your body with blood, but it couldn’t pump so fast as to catch up with the speed you were losing it again. 

“Matt-” you smiled when you saw his face. “You’re safe,” you said. “I thought you weren’t safe.”

“Shh,  sweetheart,” he told you, and he tried hard not to sob - your heart had become his favorite song, a symphony that was unique in itself, but now it was running out like a broken record. The sand in the hourglass ran faster than he could catch you. 

You choked. The missing fear in your voice told him that you knew. Oh, you knew you weren’t going to make it. 

“You foolish, foolish- Jesus,” he bent over you, his hand still tightly pressed against your abdomen, but the sharp pain you had felt was gone. You just felt numb now. “I told you to stay home,” he said. His voice cracked at the end because now even he knew, deep down, that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 

And he had just found you. It didn’t seem fair. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. “I was just-” you coughed again, and he could taste the copper in the air from where it ran down the corner of your mouth. “I was worried,” you breathed. 

He shushed you again. “It’s okay,” the first tear descended his cheek and met with yours, “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you out of here and fixed up, okay? Hey-” Your eyes drooped, but he held your face with such force, you felt compelled to open them again, but you were tired. Oh, you were so tired. 

It was your time to tell him, “It’s okay.”

Your body was wracked with a terrible wave of shivers and even though he was holding you tightly to his chest, his body was just cold air to you. Everything was cold.

“No, don’t close your eyes! You have to stay with me, sweetie, okay? Just a little longer.”

“I can’t.” And he knew you couldn’t.

“You don’t get to do that, not yet. It’s not time yet. We have so much-” he grunted in the back of his throat. “Remember you told me about the pyramids in Egypt? You wanted to go there,” he said, and at this point, he was crying more than he was smiling. “So you have to stay awake, okay? Stay awake for me, baby.”

You reached out your weak hand, touching his cheek. There was blood on your fingers and it smeared on his cheekbone. Your touch was cold. You used to be so warm and now you were simply cold, and your heartbeat turned into tiny beats after another. 

“We both know I’m not gonna make it,” you said with all the strength you had left. 

“No,” he was determined, “Don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Matthew-” the call of his full name was almost unfamiliar. “Matthew, listen. Listen to my heart.” 

“I am, baby, and it is still beating, that means there is still time. I can save you. I can-”

“No, you don’t understand,” you said. Your hand moved from his cheek to the left side of his chest. “I’m always going to be here.” 

“Stop,” he sobbed. “God, don’t do this to me. You can’t do this. You have to hold on.”

“It’s time,” you said. 

“No, baby, please-”

“It’s time for me to go, Matthew.”

“No.”

Your hand dropped, your muscles too weak to hold your body up anymore. Thud, thud, thud. He focused on your heartbeat, but he soon realized that it wasn’t yours, it was his. His own heartbeat was louder than yours, but it had the same beat, it played to the same rhythm as yours. Your bodies aligned, but the blood, oh the blood. Your scent was overshadowed by the smell and the taste of pure blood and it made him sick. 

“I-” you choked again, but the sentence you wanted to say needed to be said, no matter how strong those claws were that were just waiting to pull you underwater. “I love you,” your voice broke like fragile glass upon impact, “and I always will.”

His forehead fell against yours. You were so cold. Matt held you, he held you to keep you warm, but you were getting colder by the minute and your blood seeped through his fingers, through his shirt, and that was when he realized. 

“No,” he desperately felt for your heart, but the familiar melody was gone. He couldn’t feel you, he couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t smell you. He could only hold your limp body as the life left your body and your soul with you. 

On December third, you died in his arms. On December third, he had to deliver your body to the hospital, but you were long gone when they found you. He knew you were gone, but he had held you for a while longer, trying to find the life inside of you, trying to keep his hope alive, but on December third, you died, and with you, all the color in his life faded into the darkest of blacks. 

Matt Murdock remembers the day he met you and he remembers the day you died. As he is standing over your grave now, the snow feels numb on his soaked clothes. What is creeping up his spine is worse than the cold of December. The pain of losing you is colder than snow, it’s colder than anything he has ever felt before. The cold has crept into his heart and frozen whatever life had been left inside of him. You died and he couldn’t save you. He had to bury you because he just couldn’t save you. 

You were the light of his life and Matt lost that, too, like he has lost everything in his life. It's then he truly starts to believe that everything he touches is supposed to rot and die. Everything he has ever touched, no matter how beautiful, has turned ugly, dark, and gray, and then eventually, dead. Cold, dark, and dead.

You were an explosion of wonderful colors but now you were gray, just like his life. A gray stone on the cemetery behind Clinton Church, your body cold, your blood branded into his skin and he cries. He stands at your grave and cries because you’re still in his head, you’re still in his heart, and it kills him that a memory is all he has left of you. He longs to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you like he had many times before, but you’re gone. 

His sweater smells of your perfume, his sheets smell of your bodywash and your essence still lingers in the air of his apartment, no matter how many times he opens a window, and then there is your name that suddenly everyone seems to have. He searches for you when it rings out, but you’re not there. 

On December third, you died, and with your memory lingering everywhere, he would go back to December all the time. And it breaks him to know you’re not there. 

[jikookuntold]

Hi! I appreciate your takes a lot, please can you share your opinion about this situation. Hope you saw Jungkook last Wlive which he did between Friday-Saturday night, at 2-3 am. Jungkook said there “I don’t have nothing to do to tomorrow. I will just work out tomorrow” then we know that JK spend Friday night before this Wlive at musicals with Tae and Wooga, and later on Saturday night he spent bowling with Tae. Two nights in a row he chose to spend with Tae. Ok. Whatever. Maybe Jimin was busy, right? But no, today Jimin said this: “ it would have been great if all the members could go together, but because we all busy with our individual work. But I'm still in the middle of preparations so I had time (other translation says *spare days*) in those few days after various film shoots and it happened to be on a weekend and Hoseokie-hyung also had a day off, so we went together.” So I have many questions here and confusion. Their stories contradict themselves, JK said he was totally free on Saturday, while JM said other members were so busy they couldn’t join even if he wished. I think JiHope visited Jin in the early afternoon, while JK fall asleep early in the morning (he woke up at 8 again, said he was tired and would want to sleep some more, it’s unknown if JK slept more). Soooo there’s several questions, and to be honest they don’t advantage jikook much. Just from following the situation: Jimin isn’t updated to JK’s life and didn’t know he was free that day? Or Jimin just didn’t contact JK and didn’t invite him for some reason? Or he lied that all other members had working schedule that day so others would look good in public eyes that they didn’t join? On the other hand. Did Jungkook just declined to go to JIn because he had something more important that day (bowling with Tae and and before spending morning on Wlive just chilling and doing nothing)? Or JK was just not invited by Jimin? And then again I don’t think JK lied that he was free on Saturday, he or Tae decided to spend lovely night bowling together. He was definitely free I think. So the following question is the most important one that bothers me: Why would a couple chose to spend their precious day off completely separately with different people? And that happened when finally their schedule would align (after one partner was busy with job), they what didn’t miss each other…plus while one of them doesn’t know the other one was free, and the other one was spending two days in a row with the same person, prioritizing that friend over his allegedly lover…how does it make sense? Maybe I missed something and didn’t understand it and drew some incorrect conclusions, and you would be kind enough to say where my logic lacks because honestly …it is confusing

ps sorry if i double posted, I didn’t understand if it was sent or the site dropped

Your confusion and the essay you made out of it comes from a little mistake in calculations. You forgot that waking hours for a normal grown up human being is at least 16 hours per day, and they can do multiple activities at the same day, like having schedules (not necessarily Hybe-related things), working out or going to musicals, or bowling or eating outside, and still having spare time left. And the bowling didn't happen last Saturday, the photos are from November.

Also you forgot that boot camps don't accept visitors at night, so what if Jimin wasn't lying or covering for anything and JK actually had important business during the day? Or JK just had things to do but didn't want to spoil and just said he will work out?

You see? There is no need for overanalysing or writing essays or calling anyone liar or calling a resurfaced friendly hang out from four months ago "lovely". Just chill ❤️