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myownwholewildworld · 12 days ago

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12. MORNING DEW

chapter 11 | ao3 | series masterlist | chapter 13 (soon)

pairing: post-outbreak!joel x f!reader. summary: you and joel need to discuss what the future might look like for the both of you. whether that's together or on your own. a/n: HI! please accept my apologies, i know it's been like a month since i last updated this series. but fret not, here's chapter 12! hope you guys like it. as always, i appreciate comments, reblogs and likes, they keep us writers well fed and motivated! take care, lovelies <3 x warnings: 18+, mdni. fluff, some angsty hurt/comfort. smut because i got my period halfway through writing this. fingering. handjob. oral (m!receiving). edging. soft dom/sub dynamics. brief references to attempted suicide and attempted SA. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n. joel’s and reader’s pov. and a special guest’s pov too 👀 dividers by @\saradika-graphics w/c: ~6.5k. taglist aka the drama wagon at the end of the chapter (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!)

It never seemed to be the proper time to speak to you, Joel thought. Ever since his fuckup last night, he had struggled to find the words, to explain what his thought process was. A few hours ago, he had talked himself into ripping off the plaster and apologise to you, but when he called your name and you turned around with a composed expression, he froze in place.

He didn’t want to lose you too. Joel was afraid he would say something wrong again that would push you even further away from him. And then he would truly be alone, all because of his own actions, his own words. That fear clamped around his throat, preventing him from saying anything. From reaching out.

It was stupid, really. He knew that. Knew you were expecting him to say something, anything. Your blank expression was just a façade, a wall you had built around your heart so he wouldn’t hurt you anymore.

Joel hated himself for it, for your concealed hurt. Hated he had broken that trust between you two and made you feel like he was no longer on your side. He was, always had been, always would be. But he had let fear come between you, an abyss so vast he didn’t think it was salvable. It had to be though ― couldn’t be any other way.

The possibility of being a father again laid in front of him like a path full of dangers. Joel understood how much he could lose, because he had already lost Sarah. How suffocating that experience had been ― still was, every single fucking day.

He was frightened to go through it all over again. Having to hug another dead child of his; having to witness the light flicker away from her eyes. Sarah had been his everything ― his hope, his pride, the love of his life, the reason he would wake up in the morning to go to work, counting his blessings. And it didn’t matter in the slightest how good she was ― she was taken regardless. This world was cruel and unjust and greedy.

But there was also a sliver of hope, of dull excitement, shimmering underneath. One he wouldn’t allow himself to feel.

He still felt like a failure of a father who could not protect his baby girl when she needed him most. That emotional baggage would forever be with him. And he wanted it that way, because it meant he still remembered. This grief he carried was a reminder of the love he held. And he hoped it stayed with him, that she would stay with him.

Joel could still vividly remember digging with bare nails the grave Tommy had prepared for her. Elbow’s deep in the dirt, his fingers reaching for her as thick tears blurred his vision. The wails ripping his lungs apart, leaving his throat raw and tender. And Tommy hugging him from the back, arms clamped around his shoulders ― crying, begging him to stop.

“Little Sarah is resting now.”

“Let her be, Joel.”

“Stop unburying her, dammit!”

“I’m sorry, truly sorry. God I can’t―”

“She’s at peace now, Joel. No more suffering.”

Tommy’s slurry voice still filled his ears. His little brother had tried his best to comfort him, but at that moment in time, Joel had been too blinded by the gut-wrenching pain, the unbearable loss. He never really thanked Tommy for that. Never thanked you for stopping him from killing himself either.

Being an ass to the people he loved, apparently, was his only strength. Just like he had been with you when you needed him most.

Joel watched you as you struggled to unzip your sleeping bag, the soft material catching on the serrated teeth. You yanked the pull, almost snapping it from the slider, mumbling something to yourself.

He covered your tiny hand with a broad one of his, lightly squeezing your fingers.

“Let me help,” he muttered as you leaned back away from him.

Your subtle physical rejection stung, but he knew he deserved it. His hurt was nothing in comparison to yours.

Letting go of the bag, you faked looking for something in your backpack, avoiding his eyes when they searched for yours. Joel felt that the void between you only grew and grew, like darkness gaining ground to the light outside.

Could he mend your relationship? Your trust? Your love?

With careful hands, Joel managed to release the pinch on the fabric and tested that the zipper worked how it should do. When he glanced up at you, handing over the sleeping bag, Joel caught the rawness in your eyes, the slight dampness clinging to your eyelashes like morning dew on a petal at dawn.

It was now or never. He was hurting from seeing you hurt. Couldn’t take it any longer, he just had to say something, apologise to you. Ask to start the conversation all over again. One more second of this and he would lose his goddamn mind.

“Sweetheart, I―,” he managed to say out loud.

“I’m tired, Joel,” you quickly interrupted him. “Just wanna go to bed now, if you don’t mind.”

Your words were like a sobering, cold shower after a few beers ― stopped him right in his tracks before he could even begin to express what he wanted to say. Slightly shocked, Joel watched you fiddling around with your sleeping bag before you got inside it and turned around, facing away from him.

His slack jaw was soon gritting. But that brief anger quickly shimmered away when reality started to set in.

Perhaps he had misread the whole situation; perhaps you were not waiting on him to talk.

Perhaps you were past that ― past him, his bullshit and his doubts.

Perhaps your relationship was truly beyond salvation.

He paled in the face of such possibility, his hands shaking as they gripped his own sleeping bag.

Joel was up almost all night, eyes transfixed on you as his brain worked out all scenarios.

You faked falling asleep, but rest evaded you for hours until you finally gave in to exhaustion. Didn’t last long though, because a couple of hours later, you were, once again, wide awake.

The whole situation with Joel was overwhelming. You had hoped he would come to the car as soon as you left him behind, but he didn’t. Then that night you waited for him to say something, anything, and yet again, he didn’t. Not a fucking word when you both woke up this morning either, except for your name falling from his lips like a regretted whisper. Then complete radio silence and nothing else.

The silence treatment he had given you today was unbearable. Even if your doubts had lingered, pushing you to postpone the inevitable, deep inside you had hoped his reaction would be different. Shocked, yes, but then he would be… perhaps not happy, but at least a bit more excited? And after the shock had worn off, he would have soothed you, calmed you, told you everything was gonna be alright.

Maybe you had expected too much of Joel, your little delusion blinding you. After all, he had already lost Sarah. So now, in retrospect, this announcement might have unearthed bad memories, but especially regrets.

Was that it? Had you unburied his most primal fear? You had been so focused on what laid ahead, you had not stopped to consider what laid behind ― what this would mean for Joel. You had briefly contemplated he could perhaps see this as a blessing or a curse, but didn’t dwell too long on the thought, preoccupied as you were with other pressing matters.

You felt sick and it had nothing to do with pregnancy.

And then, when he had tried talking to you before going to bed, you had shut him down. But you were so tired, so mentally drained, you didn’t have an ounce of energy left to deal with a conversation like that. Because you truly didn’t know what he would say ― he wore such an impassive expression on his face, it was really difficult to tell.

You turned on the hard, creaky, wooden floor and faced Joel. One of his arms was resting on the wooden planks, extended towards you, as if he was trying to reach for you in his sleep.

You were in an abandoned cabin just outside Oswego. It was bare and completely stripped of furniture, but at least had a roof that would protect you from the cold, wet weather outside. It also had a covered chimney, but being so close to civilisation, it had to stay put out. Sleeping in the bag was not ideal, but it kept you warm.

Taking a deep breath, you then felt some sort of cushion under your neck that had not been there before you fell asleep. By touch, you realised it was one of those inflatable travel neck pillows that you had seen people use in airplanes. Frowning, you gathered Joel must have found one and tucked it under your head in your sleep.

You carefully studied Joel’s handsome, weathered face from the safety of your sleeping bag. Even in his sleep, his eyebrows were bunched together, a deep wrinkle ploughing through his skin almost permanently, giving him a worried look. His aquiline nose was buried in the fabric of his sleepsack, his long eyelashes caressing the top of his cheeks.

He would roll his eyes at you every time you called him “gorgeous” or “handsome”, but he really was. You loved to tell him, to help him see through your eyes. You knew he sometimes needed to hear it, to remind him of his own humanity. It was normal to lose sight of it in the current world you lived in.

And you loved him, the whole of him and his ghosts, even though he was a tactless prick sometimes. You had come to learn that when cornered, Joel could react like a beaten dog ― crouched back and showing teeth, ready to bite at the slightest provocation. Couldn’t blame him, even if you tried.

Feeling restless, you carefully unzipped your sleeping bag, not wanting to wake Joel up, and put your boots on. God knew you both needed some rest. Silently you stood up and stretched your back and arms, then one hand mindlessly stroked your belly. It wasn’t swollen at all, but the idea of a life growing inside you sat snugly in the back of your mind.

“What are we going to do, little one?” you whispered to yourself before grabbing your coat.

Needing some fresh air, you walked outside in the middle of the freezing night. It had been snowing, because there were at least three inches of white fluff blanketing the ground. Which meant the car battery could quickly drain and leave you stranded, so you went to check on the hidden Jeep.

Joel’s body jerked uncontrollably, one leg shaking as if he was falling off a cliff. Instantly waking up, he nervously looked around him, trying to recall where he was.

His hand patted the wooden floor in the dark, and when he located your sleeping bag, his breathing hitched at finding it empty. Then he heard the front door creaking, a sliver of moonlight coming through.

Were you leaving him in the middle of the night? Had he completely broken your trust, your relationship? Had he no chance of mending his mistake? Were you so hurt you would go without a word, without saying goodbye?

God knew he deserved it. He wasn’t cut for a relationship; he always ruined it. Should have known better than falling for you and giving in, but you were so warm, so effortless to love, so natural… How the fuck could he not? He was only human after all.

With a deafening pulse in his eardrums, he kicked the sleeping bag off as he got up with jerky, edgy motions, running towards the door to stop you from leaving him. For you he would fight, he would give you a whole motherfucking speech of why he loved you and how sorry he was. He at least had to try.

Joel swung the door open, and a frosty breeze greeted him, his skin bristled almost painfully at the feeling of frostbite.

You were walking through the snow, wrapped in your coat and with the hood on ― you looked so ethereal, your side profile bathed by the moonlight like a night fairy. Your features glowed under the lunar lustre, and he couldn’t help but fall for you even more.

Barefoot he followed you, his soles numb after a few steps through the snowy mud.

“Babe, wait,” he muttered, one hand reaching for your elbow.

You startled at his touch, and Joel didn’t know if it was rejection or that he had surprised you.

Your big, beautiful eyes widened when you saw him there. You wore a tired expression, and he knew himself the culprit.

“Where are you going?” he questioned in a whisper, heart still and lungs empty.

“I―”

“Please don’t go, don’t leave. I can do better. I’m sorry,” Joel stumbled with his words.

Had never felt this exposed as he was about to split his core in half, to undress emotionally in front of someone, allowing himself to be hurt by the only person it mattered.

But it had to be done to keep you by his side. So he did.

“I panicked. I wasn’t expecting― it didn’t even cross my mind that you… well, could be pregnant. It caught me so off guard, the news didn’t sink in. I’m sorry I reacted like a fucking idiot; I know I’ve disappointed you because of it. It’s just… ‘s hard, you know?” Joel swallowed to dissolve the dense knot forming in his throat, “I already had a shot at fatherhood, and I fucking blew it. I couldn’t protect her despite loving Sarah with all my heart, so the possibility of having to go through all that heartache again… I just, I don’t―”

Joel took in a deep, trembling breath as he unconsciously palmed his broken wristwatch, trying to soothe himself. He attempted to read your expression ― your lips pursed and eyes teary. Was he breaking your heart even further? You were about to cry, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Anxiety was taking hold of his throat and gut, strangling him.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m fucking scared, so scared I don’t think words do it justice. But I’m also thrilled, baby, I swear I am. I owe it to you, to myself, to this baby of ours… I ain’t going nowhere. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you both,” he husked, almost breathless. “I’m sorry I said what I said. Neither of us have a choice, but even if we did… I wouldn’t change a thing. This baby is happening for a reason and whatever that is, I’m all in, come what may. I love you, I really do, and I hate myself for having hurt you like this. I just suck at expressing my feelings and―”

You placed a gentle hand on his naked forearm, which made him lose track of what he was saying. Your fingers gently squeezed his cold flesh as you took a step closer to him. Your free hand slid across his left hip, dipping under the tee shirt he was wearing, until it reached the small of his back and you pushed him towards your body.

His taut muscles visibly relaxed at your touch and hug, his lungs filling up as he drew in the deepest breath of his life. Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close to his chest, chin resting on the crown of your head.

“Joel, I wasn’t leaving,” you murmured, cheek nuzzling against him, a tentative smile lingering on your mouth.

Joel’s eyebrows knitted together. From his perspective, it was more than obvious that you were actually leaving.

“Oh? I thought―”

“I was just going to check on the car battery since it’s freezing out here,” you interrupted him, glancing up at him.

Joel pursed his lips together, then licked them nervously.

“Well, everything I said still stands. I am truly sorry, sweetheart,” he said, mouth lightly pressed on your forehead.

A deep sigh after, you took a step back, your hand travelling from his forearm to his fingers, intertwining them with yours. Your palm was so warm in comparison to his, he just realised how little clothing he had on.

“For being a man who “sucks” at expressing his feelings, dare I say you’ve just spoken like a professional orator?” you jested, a grin curling the corners of your lips. “And I am sorry for not being straightforward with you. I was afraid of how you would take the news, and, well…” you shrugged, “you can’t blame me, can you?”

Joel shook his head vehemently. He definitely couldn’t ― the proof was there for both of you to see.

“But I understand how frightening this is for you. I can’t even begin to comprehend how you must have felt when… when Sarah left us. I was so blinded by my own insecurities, I didn’t dwell for too long on how this would affect you emotionally. So I apologise and―”

“Don’t. Don’t apologise, please. That’s a pain for me to bear, you shouldn’t have to think about it.”

“But I do, Joel. I want to bear it with you, so you don’t have to do it alone. That’s the whole point of this, of us. After all, we are going to be a family now,” your voice dropped to a low hum.

A pang of nerves traversed his stomach. No, not a pang, more like… butterflies? Joel had not felt that―the purest form of ecstasy―in a long, long time. The idea of being a dad… it always called him, always felt like that was what he was meant to be, nothing else. Sarah had been the center of his world and while no one could ever change that for him, the possibility of having another child to shower with the love he had buried… it was so overwhelming it brought tears to his eyes, his breathing shallow.

“A family,” he repeated, voice raspy with emotion.

You nodded and laughed, teary eyes too.

“A family, Joel. You’re gonna be a dad,” you snickered, now sobbing.

He couldn’t help but join you, draping his arms around you to bring you against his chest.

He didn’t deserve you, your forgiveness. The second chance you were offering him, in all the senses. A second chance with you. A second chance to form a family. A second chance in life, really.

Joel cradled your flushed cheeks, tilting your face up so his mouth hovered over yours.

“I can’t believe my fucking luck, honestly. You, the mother of my child…” he didn’t finish the sentence because he would choke on his own words if so. Took a second to compose himself. “If I’m ever such a dick aga―”

“Are you planning on being a dick often, Joel Miller?” you said playfully with a cocked brow.

He laughed, feeling completely at ease.

“I hope not. But if I ever attempt to be, just kick me in the balls so I may come to my senses quicker, please,” he replied with a lopsided grin.

His thumbs caressed the apples of your cheeks before bowing down to kiss you. A slow, loving stroke of his tongue over yours and he felt everything was right again. Your sweet taste soothed him, his mind finally at ease. How you achieved that for him with the mere brush of your soft lips, he didn’t understand.

You were the one to break the kiss, pecking his lips a few times before finally taking a step back.

“Let’s go back inside, you must be freezing only with those sweatpants and a shirt.”

And with that, all the anxiety, the mental struggle, was forgotten.

Joel took your tiny hand in his broad one and led you back inside the cabin. Dried off his feet quickly before helping you out of your winterwear and settle back in in the sleeping bag ― his sleeping bag. Luckily it was big enough for the both of you.

You hugged each other, trying to get back to sleep, but both of your hearts were fluttering so hard, it was difficult to ignore the excitement.

“I’m so thrilled right now, I don’t think I can go to sleep just yet. I can’t believe this is happening,” you whispered with a beautiful grin.

Joel couldn’t help but notice how you were beaming now, how much worry you had carried the last couple of days because of him. He felt infinitely better now that the joyful spark had returned to your eyes.

Dragging his thumb across your jawline, tracing an invisible line on your soft skin, Joel tilted your face towards him, his heart swollen with love. He hadn’t felt this alive in ages.

“Neither can I,” he admitted in a rasp.

His right hand roamed your body under the sleeping bag until it found the perfect spot to rest: your belly. Joel splayed his fingers over your lower tummy protectively, wanting to shield you both from any harm.

You hovered one of your hands over his, your palm stroking the back of his hand in a light caress. It felt like such an intimate moment, a respite among all madness and darkness, that he knew he would treasure it forever. When days would become hard, he’d only have to think back to this exact moment in time ― both of you cocooned in a sleeping back, warm and loving, calm and happy.

Fuck, was he happy and grateful. It still felt like a dream, but this was real. You were real. Yes, he was fucking scared out of his mind too, but the joy he was feeling right now eclipsed everything else.

With rough lips, he coaxed yours apart, the tip of his tongue tentatively swiping your teeth so you would let him in ― the place where he felt most at home. And you happily complied with a subtle sigh. Your tongues curled around one another, your sultry taste and sweet scent overtaking all his senses.

Joel felt your hand dragging his downwards and only took him one second to catch on. Soon his fingers were buried under your panties, his hand cupping your mound possessively while his middle finger dipped in your slit ever so slightly to faintly stroke your hooded clit.

Just one stroke.

“Joel,” you cooed, and he inhaled your breathless plea.

“I know, baby,” he hummed back, gifting you with another light stroke.

Your thighs trembled around his hand, and you parted them involuntarily, your body telling him everything he needed to know.

So he obliged, his finger slipping from your clit to your crying hole, gathering the wetness on the tip to bring it back up to your sensitive nub. With languid touches, Joel paid precise attention to your bundle of nerves with his thumb, while his index and middle fingers rubbed your dripping furrow incessantly, his fingertips hitching in your entrance from time to time.

You gasped, chest heaving and back arched, when Joel finally dived those two fingers in your slick, warm entrance. He groaned at your responsiveness, your eagerness, always ready for him. He could never have enough of you; of that he was fucking sure.

Joel nipped your neck, his stubble tickling your skin, then lapped at it while the rhythm of his hand increased. He knew you loved it when he curled his fingers, stroking that heavenly spot that would drive you wild with lust.

Then he suddenly stilled and you grinded your wet pussy against his palm, desperate for release, your hips tilting underneath.

“Joel, please,” you begged in a whisper, your walls clenching around his digits.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“I wanna come, please let me,” you pleaded with half-lidded, glassy eyes, melting under his touch.

“What a good girl, asking for permission,” he grazed your slack jaw with his bare teeth, then soothed the bite with a kiss. “No, not a good girl, a good momma, aren’t ya?” he corrected himself, his erection swelling at the thought. “Not yet, baby.”

He teased you a bit more, dragging the pleasure, letting it build and coil inside you the way he knew you liked it.

“F-fuck… Joel…” you moaned, his fingers still and deep buried inside you, your hole squeezing uncontrollably.

Your pleas worked, because soon enough Joel was fingering you relentlessly, pumping in and out of you fast ― your gushing cunt making obscene, squelching noises under the sleeping bag. Your moans grew louder as the pace between your thighs increased, your back so arched Joel feared you might break it.

“You can come now, baby,” he spoke softly, knowing you were holding back until you got his permission.

Then your walls furiously fluttered around his digits, choking and clamping and clutching. And Joel fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, his thumb smothering your clit, applying the right amount of pressure. You keened, breathing heavy, as you came down from your climax, eyes shut and mouth agape.

Joel leaned to kiss you, his wet, pruney fingers still embedded in your leaking hole while your hand teasingly caressed his tummy, his muscles straining in anticipation.

“Feeling calmer?” he asked, the tip of his crooked nose nuzzling your ear as his fingers slid out with a pop.

“Mhmm, way calmer now,” you husked, tipping your face to trap his mouth with yours. “Let me help you relax too, gorgeous.”

A deep rumble coursed through his chest as your tiny fist dove and wrapped around his swollen girth, your thumb gently caressing the leaky head under his underwear.

He was ready just by working you, that was the power you held over him and Joel was fully aware of it. And he didn’t care one bit, he loved that you could get him hard just like that. It was lust, but it was love too; a deep, shared connection ― something he’d not felt before with anyone else.

You pumped him slow at first, your teeth scraping the skin over his Adam’s apple, then his jawline, until you hunted down his lips, swallowing his gruffy moans. Your playful hand stroked him faster, your fingers gripping harder, and he was close to losing his mind.

Then you licked his neck and nibbled his earlobe, and Joel had to summon all strength he could muster to not come there and then. You giggled at his intense reaction ― his muscles so tight he could snap at any moment, his breathing heavier and erratic.

Your hand imposed a devilish pace upon his throbbing cock, jerking him off fast and furious now, seeing how far you could take him before he broke. His balls felt tight and heavy, ready to spill his warm load on your hand.

Joel couldn’t stop groaning even if he fucking tried ― it had only been five days since the last time he fucked you, but those were too many days already. He pursed his lips together, eyebrows knitting in concentration to not come yet, while your mouth ghosted his. A few moans ended up slipping out and you breathed them in as you masturbated him with a tight grip.

And whatever cue he gave you, you knew he was close ― his orgasm imminent. Swiftly you dived your head under the sleeping bag and Joel lost sight of you. You freed his erection and a second later he felt your plump lips seal around his mushroom head.

His hands curled into tight fists, your little licks, taps and laps maddening. Then you suckled the swollen tip as if it was your personal pacifier.

“Holy fuck,” he huffed, shutting his eyes, as your wicked tongue commended him to come, your hand working his shaft dextrously.

Joel couldn’t hold it any longer. With a deep moan, he blew his sticky load in your mouth, and you drank eagerly from him. He felt your plush lips pecking his balls, then his column, and finally the tip, showing gratitude to his softening dick. Tucking his cock back into his underwear, you patted his bulge, gently, for a sweet second.

Then you popped your head out of the sleeping bag with a sinful grin, your thumb swiping across the corner of your mouth to gather a drop of his cum and guiding it back inside. Joel cupped your chin to bring your face closer to his.

“Thanks, baby. Always so thoughtful,” he joked before tasting himself on your tongue.

“Anytime,” you snickered.

You settled across his chest, warm bodies and calmer hearts, and a comfortable silence filled the room. Soon after that, you both fell into a peaceful slumber.

You woke up first, Joel’s arms draped around your shoulders in a solid hug, almost suffocating you. The first morning light filtered through the bare window, casting elongated shadows of the trees outside across the floorboards. Morning dew condensed on the windowpane, frozen like tiny, sparkly snowflakes. Some birds chirped, their melody pacifying. The whole scene was so tranquil, you didn’t want this moment to end.

Loafing about, you nuzzled Joel’s sternum, his thorax slowly rising, then coming down. His heart beat steadily too, so calming it almost lull you back to sleep. Something about Joel sleeping so profoundly made you feel at peace. Both of you had a very much needed rest after a tense couple of days.

You stroked the hairy trail down his belly button absentmindedly.

Joel grunted and stirred under you, his curved eyelashes fluttering a few times before his beautiful brown eyes stared at you. A boyish smile curled the corners of his lips before he closed his eyes again, hugging you closer. Joel buried his nose in your hair, then inhaled audibly.

“As much I’d love to stay here forever with you, I think we should get going,” you laughed, palming his chest.

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose. He wasn’t a morning person.

“Alright. I’ll get up just ‘cause you’re asking nicely,” he conceded, one hand reaching out of the sleeping bag to unzip it.

The cold air hit you both and you regretted your decisions, but if you wanted to find Tommy soon, you were not going to achieve that from this cabin, as idyllic as it felt to be here, in your bubble with Joel.

Half an hour later you were both up and fully awake. Joel was packing away the sleeping bags when he suddenly stopped.

“Fuck. You didn’t check on the battery last night, did you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

You bit down your bottom lip and shook your head no.

“Shit. No, I didn’t. I, well― got distracted,” you replied apologetically, a nervous chuckle slipping.

“You mean I distracted you, right?” the teasing edge to his voice made you smile. “Don’t worry, love, ‘s alright. I’ll go check on it before we go into town.”

Joel brought you in for a hug, his hands lacing on the small of your back. He brushed his lips against yours in a chaste kiss and you wanted to laugh so badly, you sniggered. This man, pretending to be so decent now.

“What’s so funny?” he enquired, a cocked brow, not letting you go of his embrace just yet.

“You being so gentlemanly and proper now with your decorous kissing, as if you didn’t make me come with just your fingers last night. As if I didn’t eat yo―” you jested bluntly, butterflies filling your belly.

Joel growled at your provocation, interrupting you, his hips flush with yours.

“That nasty mouth of yours is gonna be my downfall one of these days,” he muttered. Then he kissed you, his tongue quick and ravishing. “Enough. Stop being so damn tempting.”

He let go of you, taking a step back and turning around. You took the opportunity to smack his ass before he walked off with a smirk on his lips.

You stayed inside, gathering all the bits and stuffing them back in your backpacks. You were going to venture into Oswego today again, stake out the town and the area where Joel thought Tommy and his group would most probably be.

Shuffling through your belongings, you found the pregnancy test you took a few days ago. The digital screen was still displaying the positive result ― one you dreaded, but then embraced.

In the span of forty-eight hours, you thought your relationship with Joel had crumbled down and reduced to nothingness, to then come back stronger like a phoenix rising from its ashes.

The look on his face when he thought you were leaving him still haunted you ― you hoped he would forget that feeling sooner rather than later. His confession had tugged at your heart so much, you had forgiven him after the first sentence. But you had let him keep on talking, because the self-indulgent part of yourself wanted to hear him say all those things. It wasn’t often that Joel Miller would make use of his mouth to verbally express his feelings.

You smiled to yourself, tremendously happy with how the situation had turned out in the end.

Throwing your backpack over your shoulders and Joel’s hanging from one arm, you walked outside with the pregnancy still on your hand, daydreaming ― your grin now permanently sculpted into your features.

Then you heard a voice you quickly recognised.

Tommy’s.

You froze halfway through the three steps on the porch, your gaze scanning the area until you found them.

Joel had a very schooled expression, almost blank, while Tommy frowned, gripping a shotgun close to his chest.

“You’ve been following me?” the younger Miller asked, visibly upset.

“Yes, we have, you dickhead,” Joel replied, his voice restrained. “You just left a―”

“We?” Tommy scoffed, taking a step back. “You’ve not ditched her body yet?”

Joel’s hazel eyes found yours, still glued to the steps. A silent plea for you to go back inside, sensing this would not end well. And you tried ― you took a step back to run back into the cabin, but Tommy was quicker.

Tommy turned around and almost jumped back as if he had seen a ghost. Probably because he thought he had.

You raised your hands up, showing him you were no threat.

“Hey, Tommy,” you greeted him with a feeble smile. “If you keep pointing that gun at me, I’m gonna start thinking it’s personal,” you joked to diffuse the situation.

“Tommy,” Joel’s firm voice made his brother looked at him askance, his pupils fixed right back on you. “Hey.”

Joel’s fingers wrapped around the barrel, pushing it down so it wouldn’t point at you anymore. You could see Tommy’s stiffness from the distance, ready to do whatever it was necessary.

When Joel yanked at the shotgun, Tommy broke eye contact with you to stare at his brother, not letting go of the shotgun.

“How’s she alive?”

“It’s a long story, bu―”

“She’s fucking infected. You’re fucking infected!” he screamed in a panic, stumbling back with his own feet and then directing the gun back at you.

Joel tried to approach him while you stayed as still as possible, your breathing hitching. Would he shoot? You hoped not, but he looked scared enough to do so.

“Tommy, listen to me―” Joel attempted to talk to him again.

“What’s that you’re holding?” Tommy snapped at you, ignoring his brother.

You paled. You had forgotten the pregnancy test was on your hand, lost as you were in your train of thought when you had walked out of the cabin.

No words left your mouth ― your orbs quickly found Joel’s. Both of you, frightened to death. Not for yourselves, but for your baby.

Tommy wouldn’t hurt you, would he? Unconsciously, your free hand dropped to your belly, wanting to protect this new life you were harbouring, growing.

Tommy’s façade fell, his jaw slack.

“You’re PREGNANT?!”

Joel reacted first, standing in the way, the barrel kissing the center of his chest. Then he pushed Tommy back, his composed expression gone. He was angry, you could tell. Really angry. You had only seen him that irate the night those two men almost raped you.

“If you ever point that gun at her again, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you myself with my bare hands, Tommy,” he growled.

Tommy blinked rapidly, his resolution coming back as he cocked the gun again.

“You both have lost your fucking minds,” Tommy scoffed, walking backwards towards the woods. “Don’t follow me anymore. Leave me the fuck alone.”

A minute after, the younger brother disappeared between the trees and Joel rushed to your side, his anger transforming into urgency.

“We gotta go.”

His words were impregnated with the same panic you were feeling.

Unbelievable, Tommy thought.

Had his brother gone mad? What the fuck was he thinking? And how were you alive? What kind of sinister magic was that?

He had so many unanswered questions, his head throbbed with an impending headache. Tommy needed the distance and the time to think this through. At first, he had been elated at seeing his brother after so long, but the excitement quickly shifted the moment he saw Joel accompanied by you. And fucking pregnant, by the looks of it.

Shaking his head, Tommy hooted like an owl, letting the people keeping watch know that he was approaching the two houses they all had been living in. The two buildings were on the forest boundary, far enough of other homes but close enough to town.

Bursting in through the doors, Laney met him in the corridor, hands on hips.

“So?”

“They are here. And what’s worst, she’s alive and pregnant,” Tommy almost spit the last word out.

Laney’s scowl deepened.

“Pregnant? Like, with a fucking zombie-like monster growing inside of her?”

The emphasis on that specific word made Tommy frown. He wouldn’t go as far as to say that. Laney could be a little dramatic sometimes.

“Well, I don’t know. No, I don’t think so? I mean, she looked fine, so I guess―” Laney walked past him, interrupting what he was saying. “Where are you going?”

“On patrol. Need to go into town for some supplies.”

“Need a hand?”

“No. Stay here, keep watch.”

And with that, she stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaving Tommy in the middle of the hallway with a nagging doubt picking at the back of his brain.

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981 @fancyyoouu

@smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille @harriedandharassed

@thepalaceofmelanie @eternallyvenus @theoraekenslover @vickie5446

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 months ago

Note

I recently ran an oneshot for my friends in Eureka.

It was a lot of fun and went mostly smoothly! The charakter creation was very easy. It still took more time than I expected, but that was simply because the players needed it to decide on which traits etc. to pick.

The central resolution mechanic with 2d6 is of course tried and true (I assume. Never played one of the many other 2d6 games.) but especially the Eureka system felt really good.

I think I read in a recent post of your's, that you are overhauling the chapter on combat. That seems very important to me. Even though I read the whole book once before running the game, I had immense problems finding out how small details of the combat worked during play. The musings on game design (eg, "yes, the combat is deadly, thats on purpose heres why" and such) where really enlightening to read, but got in the way when searching for concrete stats.

I will run the same oneshot again for different friends. The game seems really promising to me.

My mystery took place on a single in game evening, and none of the players were monsters. Having therefore only scratched at the surface of Eureka, I am looking forward to running it more.

Woo! We LOVE hearing about this kinda stuff!

And yeah everything about how the combat-related rules are structured is getting overhauled. All of that was written like 2 years ago when I was a slightly worse game designer and MUCH worse at writing coherent paragraphs and hasn’t been touched since until now. Instead of being split across like four paragraphs (what was I thinking), there will be just two chapters on it: “Instruments of Violence”, which is mostly just a giant list of references for the stats and special rules of weapons and armor, and “Dangerous Situations”, which covers every rule related to how your investigators can get killed. Some of these clean-ups are already available in the latest patreon release, and the rest are coming soon to both patreon and the itchio beta.

Combat is a very rare thing in Eureka, but when it does come up, we want it to be tight and granular, but without wasting the players’ time, which I think we’ve done pretty well at.

Like the book says, combat is deadly and there’s a reason why: so it doesn’t waste the players’ time.

This is a twofold problem to solve. The first layer of it, we solved by making sure the numbers are low. Most weapons can take a character down in 2 to 3 hits, so a single instance of two guys smacking each other will never take too many rounds.

Secondly, well, combat is dangerous and deadly, and if the PCs approach it without a plan, they’re gonna die, or at least get their asses kicked fast. Otherwise, well, I consider that a waste of the players’ time. If it was predetermined that the PCs would win otherwise the story can’t continue, well, what did we roll all those die, look up all those stats, and track all that HP for? Why didn’t we just describe the PCs winning and move on? Combat matters because it can change the outcome of the adventure, and if it can’t change the outcome, why are you rolling dice? Of course with death being so possible, to keep it fun, we gotta include lots of “tools” like cover, positioning, different weapons, special melee attacks, etc. that the PCs can use cleverly to give themselves an edge, and *earn* their survival.

Oh and also yeah can’t wait to hear what you think about the monsters. Funny thing about that, everyone who has read the rulebook knows that monsters and other supernatural creatures are supposed to be really rare, like one supernatural person for every 3,000,000 normal people kinda rare, but, monsters are super cool and fun to play, and are one of the big draws of the system, so we were kinda worried that that rarity wouldn’t come through in play, everyone would just be monsters. We considered setting a limit on how many monsters can be in a party? But quickly decided against it, because then players would have to compete for the limited monster slots, and people might even feel like if they’re not filling in that slot every single adventure, they’re missing an opportunity, and so every party would max out their monster limit every time and there’d, again, be way too many monsters.

In practice, though, most parties in Eureka seem to be comprised of all normal people, or all normal people and 1 monster at most, even without the limit. And I suspect this is both because monsters are kinda difficult to play despite their immense power, and, just to brag, because we made the normal PCs fun has hell to play too. :)

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fatesundress · 2 years ago

Text

⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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jamdoughnutmagician · 5 months ago

Text

You'll Know Me Better (Than I Know Myself) Steve Harrington x Reader (18+)

I need more fics where reader can’t take Steve’s cock that well, so he has to be patient. Awkwardness, but lighthearted, very intimate and tender 😢

Based on this text post from @wroteclassicaly because I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here's the fic. Idk if it's quite what you wanted but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Also bonus points if anyone know's the song which this fic's title references

Word Count:2,088

Warnings: Smut, Self-Doubt, Comfort, Oral Sex (F Rec), Mentions of Painful sexual experiences, alternatives to penetrative sex.

Steve Harrington Masterlist // Masterlist

Steve's soft pink lips pressed against yours, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. He kissed you with an unhurried ease, his strong arms circling your body, keeping you safe as he pulled you closer into his lap. You weren’t naive, you knew the insistent press of Steve’s growing erection bulging underneath the soft fabric of his sweatpants meant he was more than pleased to have you sitting on top of him like this. It was that fact that had your stomach tying itself in knots.

You hadn't been with many guys before Steve, but the one you had been with had rushed you, everytime being all too quick to have their way with you. Far too concerned with their own pleasure before yours.

But Steve wasn’t like that. You knew that. Steve had been nothing but kind, sweet, gentle and so unbelievably patient with you.

He watches as you shy away into his chest, hiding away from his kisses to nuzzle your cheek against the soft thatch of hair.

“Hey, I don’t have bad breath or something, do I?” he jokes light-heartedly when he sees you shrink into yourself. “Because I swear I brushed my teeth.” he assures you, pulling you closer.

“No, Steve, you’re fine, I like kissing you, really I do.”

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming”

The words get caught in your throat. What was the right thing to say here? That you’re worried that kissing him leads to things getting heated, to getting more intense and you’re not sure if you can handle it? That you’re worried that there’s something wrong with you? That you don’t want to be a disappointment?

“Hey, hey..” he murmurs softly, hooking his finger and thumb under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I can see your brain working overtime, what’s going on up there, hm” his hand moving across your face to brush the stray strands of hair from your eyes.

“It’s just…” you huff quietly, trying to find the words. “I’ve been here before Steve, and when I’ve slept with someone, I’ve just never enjoyed it, it’s never felt… right.” you say, talking through the mess of thoughts in your head. “..And the last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”

“Oh honey, you could never disappoint me, not like that, not like anything.” he tells you honestly and earnestly, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with or ready for. I could kiss you for the rest of my life and I would die a happy man.” a boyish smile tugs at his pink lips.

“But I do want to, Steve. I do want to be with you like that.” you breathe. “I just don’t want it to hurt.”

“Well let me just focus on you for a little bit and we’ll see where that takes us? And if something doesn’t feel good or you want me to stop, then just tell me. You call the shots, baby.”

The nervous, yet excited heat that blooms in your stomach bubbles into anticipation as your fingertips count the freckles on Steve’s tan skin.

“Yeah, does that sound okay, Honey?”

You give him an assured nod, and the smile he gives you in return makes you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

“Okay, let’s get you comfortable.” he says, moving you until you're settled back against the soft pillows.

Holding himself above you he begins to kiss his way down your body. His tender kisses butterflying on every curve and every inch of your soft skin, hooking his fingers into the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear.

“I’m kind of regretting not putting on something a little bit more racy if I’d have known that this was the way the evening was going to go.” you laugh softly.

“It’s not like it was going to matter.” Steve grins cheekily. “Cotton or lace, doesn’t bother me, it was only going to get in the way anyway.” he says as he drags the offending material down your legs and flings them behind him to some dark corner of the room.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, Honey?” he asks, as he trails his kisses over the soft skin of your inner thigh,

His honeyed hazel brown eyes glint with a sparkle as you offer him a shy nod of your head.

“Yeah?” He places another kiss inside your thigh. “Just lay back darling, let me do all the hard work.”

He warms you up with flat broad sweeps of his tongue over your pussy, letting you just revel in the warm wet drag of his tongue over your most sensitive parts. His nose nudges against your clit as his tongue begins to delve between your folds, drinking in every glistening drop of your arousal. His tongue sweeps upwards, circling around your clit before pulling it between his plump lips to gently suckle on it.

He pulls away from you for a brief moment, to check in with you.

“Doing so well for me, Honey. Want me to keep going? Think you can take one of my fingers?”

You give him a breathy whine of ‘please’ and it's all the affirmation that Steve needs before he's diving back in, eager to taste that little piece of heaven at the apex of your thighs.

His tongue tracing patterns over your soft cunt, before sweeping upwards to flick over your clit. He smirks against you when he feels the gentle pulse of your clit under his tongue. He gently inches one of his thick fingers into you, slowly letting you grow accustomed to the feeling.

He flicks his eyes up your body to see the way your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths of pleasure.

He crooks his finger inside you,the pads of his finger rubbing against that sweet spot, and when your shallow breaths turn into eager whines he knows he's got you exactly where he wants you. Right on the edge of pleasure, ready to fall off and give everything to him.

The sounds of your pleasure was like music to Steve’s ears, his hips driving themselves into the rumpled mess of the sheets on the bed, searching for any little bit of friction to relieve the straining pressure on his cock.

“You gonna come for me honey? Can feel you clenching around my finger.”

You nod your head, and with a few more passes of his tongue flicking over your clit, and his finger working inside you, you were coming for him, clinging to his strong arm as you ride out your high, shuddering through your orgasm.

When you come back down to earth, you can’t help but look at the sweet, dopey smile on your boyfriend’s face. The glistening evidence of your pleasure gleaming on his plump pink lips.

“So, how was that?” he smirks as though he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

“Yeah..yeah..it was good..it was really fucking good.” You nod your head quickly. You reach for him to pull him up to meet you, “but I want more.”

“More? I like the sound of that.” he grins, pushing his mussed up hair back with a hand. “Let me just get these off first.” he says, getting up to take off his sweatpants.

He makes a show of it, digging his thumbs into the elastic waistband but keeping his eyes locked with yours as he does it. Teasing you as he shimmies his hips as slowly works them down his thighs and kicks them off around his ankles, like he’s your very own personal exotic dancer.

“Nice moves, Harrington.” you snort, unable to keep your laughter in.

“If you like that, then I’ve got plenty more moves I can show you, Honey.” he says with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his body, from the cosy thatch of hair on his chest that you had spent countless nights snuggled into, to the constellation of freckles that litter his skin like artwork, following down to the slight soft pudge of his stomach where the hair continues to trail down.

Steve Harrington was fucking huge.

Hard and curved against his stomach, his flushed pink tip peeks out from his closed fist as he works steady strokes up and down the length of his cock.

There's no way he's going to be able to fit all of that inside me.

“We can take our time, we've got all night, sweetheart.” he kisses away your worries with a sweet kiss.

You ease at his sweet words. Here in his arms you feel safer than you ever have before.

“I'm going to go inside now, you tell me if anything, anything at all, feels weird or you want to stop. I just want you to feel good, baby.”

He guides his tip to your entrance, pressing in inch by inch, stilling his hips to let you become acquainted with the feeling.

You try to ignore the painful burning stretch, to breathe through it, but it hurts. You feel so angry, sad, disappointed, frustrated. You so badly wanted this to work, not only for yourself, but for Steve too. Why did it always have to be such a damn struggle.

And when Steve sees the look of wincing hesitation that crosses your face, he draws his hips back immediately.

The frustration bubbles over into tears gathering in your eyes.

“Hey, come on now, it's okay.” Steve shushes, brushing your tears away with his thumb.

“No, it's not, Steve!” You cry. “Any other girl could take you without so much as a second thought, but not me. With me it's always a fucking uphill battle.” finishing with a tired huff.

He holds you close, the warmth of his touch putting you at ease, like holding you close is all he wants to do.

“I don't want any other girl, I want you, and if that means changing things up, then so be it! Besides I think I've got an idea, if you'd be willing to try it, Honey?”

You look at him with wide curious eyes, waiting for him to continue.

He lines his cock against your wet slit, not pushing inside, but sliding between your lips, his tip bumping against your clit ever so slightly.

“Just gotta look at things from a different angle, sweets” he smiles down at you from underneath his hair.

“But what about you, don't you want it to be good for you too Stevie?”

“Trust me..this feels..fuck..pretty fucking good to me sweetheart.” he says as he stutters out a breath.

He sheaths himself between your folds, the gentle drag of his cock aided your gathering slickness. Every veiny inch of him rubs along your most sensitive parts, and yet with the way his hips rock into yours you can't deny the flaring heat it spikes in your stomach.

His tip is nudging against your clit on every updrag of his cock, leaving a smearing mess of pre-cum in It's wake. Your own thighs are sticky with your combined evidence of arousal.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, when you start to feel that all-too familiar tingle. The impending high of your orgasm approaching, just within a finger-tips grasp of pleasure.

“It’s okay honey, I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.” he mutters sweetly in your ears. “I just want you to feel good.”

He ruts his himself between the warmth of your cunt, revelling in the way your walls perfectly hug his sensitive cock, his eyes clenching shut with as his hips slowly rock back and forth.

With a few more smooth thrusts, and his tip repeatedly nudging against your clit you were coming for him with an almost silent cry, clinging to him as you shuddered through the shocks of your high.

Steve soon follows behind you as he falls over the edge with you, spilling his release on your stomach, painting your skin in ropes of pearlescent white, his lips are upon yours as your shared moans are swallowed into tender kisses.

You stay like that for a while just holding each other close, neither one of you quite ready to leave the other’s embrace yet.

“It’s just another point of view, that’s all, Honey.” he smiles sweetly.

Maybe you could come around to looking at things from another point of view.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson

@aphrogeneias @onegirlmanytales @eddiesxangel @keerysfolklore

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x reader smut #Steve Harrington x female reader

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jeannereames · 2 months ago

Note

Do you have any thoughts/theories on what it would've been like if Alexander ever returned to Pella? (sorry if this was already asked, tumblr's search system isn't really helpful)

What if Alexander Had Lived to Turn West?

First, I agree on Tumblr’s search system. It’s become increasingly bad. Even I can’t find posts I KNOW I made and tagged. I’m starting to compile a list of the more important (and lengthy) posts on various subjects, for my own reference. I wish Tumblr would let us pin several posts, not just one. (I’ve also sent a complaint feedback to Tumblr about this.)

Anyway, to the question: before we get to the “fun” (speculative) part, let’s address how likely it is he’d GO back. And as part of that, we need to ruminate a bit on what he might have done, if he’d returned west. So, let’s play a little “What-if?”

We must also keep in mind travel time. In the modern world, we can forget how long it took back then to get from Point A to Point B. Had he lived to attack Carthage (as I think he planned to do), or at least circumnavigate Arabia—both are on the southern coast of the Mediterranean. (See my tweaked map with significant places I mention below marked in purple, and recall that they tended to sail along a coast, not straight through the middle.) Macedonia is in the NW corner of the Aegean Sea. Such a side-trip would have eaten up a couple months. There might have been a sneaky reason for him to do that very thing: to come at Carthage from the north. (See discussion below.) But only if Arabia was a ruse all along. If he did mean to attack Arabia (and I think he intended that too), he'd go the southern route, then after, check on the progress of Alexandria (and visit the shrines for Hephaistion that he’d ordered built), before heading west.

If he did choose that southern route, he wouldn’t have returned to Pella before attacking Arabia or Carthage. And after…well, Italy was on the way back, so he’d probably have gone there first. And yes, I think after dealing with Carthage, he’d have used avenging the death of his uncle (Alexandros of Epiros) as an excuse to attack the Greek colonies in S. Italy. If he’d been successful against Carthage, I’m pretty sure south Italy, and possibly the north too, would have capitulated to avoid being leveled. Even Rome. At that point, Rome was in no position to fight such a titanic military powerhouse. Too many think of Rome later and backread the extent of Roman resistance into earlier periods.

Depending on the length of the campaign (e.g., how hard was any opposition), he’d have been in his mid-30s by then. Incidentally, if you’d like a speculative “What if Alexander went West,” I recommend A Choice of Destinies by Melissa Scott. (Ignore the cover.) She does have him return to Greece first, but because Thebes is in revolt (which called him back in the first place; he never reaches India). That’s the sort of event that would get him back to Greece.

There’s been speculation in both fiction and history that he didn’t want to go home because he was avoiding “his terrible mother” (as Tarn put it). I’ve written before on why Oedipal Complexes are both very modern and very wrong to assign to Alexander. I can’t now locate that post (annoyingly), but did find this one about Alexander’s relationship with Olympias in later years. So, I don’t think avoiding Olympias would have kept him from Greece/Macedonia before going west. If anything, the opportunity to see his family would have been a draw, not a dissuading point.

So, we can postulate two possible return scenarios. The first would be a side-trip on his way to Carthage as trickery to conceal his real target. After leaving Pella, he’d circumnavigate Greece to the Peloponnese, then cross the Ionian Sea to Sicily (a typical Greek trade route), and then sail around the southern edge of the island to pop across to Carthage from the north.

In this scenario, he’d be in “swing-by” mode. He’d already asked Antipatros to bring him fresh troops, so he’d have been picking them up, or acquiring more. As a recruiting campaign, it would have been short, but he’d no doubt make several religious sacrifices at Dion, Aigai, and Pella, and perhaps even visit Delphi for a prophecy about the west.

He would not bring his Asian wives with him in either scenario. First, it’s a campaign, not a family visit. But also, he intended them to stay in Babylon (or Susa). By that point, Roxane and probably also Statiera would have given birth. If both infants were male, Statiera’s would be designated heir in Asia. If only Roxana’s was male, he’d still be the “spare” by dint of his mother’s lower birth, but better than nothing in the meantime.

It’s quite possible that he intended a divided but hierarchical rule not so different from Assyrian patterns, where one heir was sent to Babylon while Daddy ruled in Nineveh and trained the other. He almost certainly meant his son by Statiera to rule in Persia/Asia, but perhaps a different son to rule in the west—one likely not even conceived yet.

I do not think he’d have married a Macedonian. He’d be looking for another political marriage, maybe to a Greek (Athenian, Syracusan…), but more likely, he’d marry a Carthaginian after any war (or as part of any peace treaty with Carthage). At that point, Carthage was the powerhouse in the Western Med. Remember, Rome had only begun her consolidation of the Italic peninsula in the wake of the Gaulic sack of the city. Alexander in Italy might have stopped that cold.

Anyway, whatever marriage he made in the west (or couple of marriages) would have been intended to produce an heir to reign there, probably subservient to any son by Statiera after Alexander’s own death, but it’s hard to know for sure. Roxana’s son (and Herakles by Barsine) would have been third and fourth fiddles. That’s WHY Roxana killed Statiera. Her status wasn’t high enough, and her son would have been destined to be regional governor in the NE territories (where his family was from): e.g., troublesome Baktria/Sogdiana. Herakles would probably have been given Asia Minor (where his Persian family was from). (More on Herakles in another post.)

But back to this scenario: if he visited on the way, it would have been a quick trip until he was off again to another campaign. (Not unlike Daddy who, in his latter years, didn’t spend much time in Pella.)

Now, let’s look at scenario #2: a visit after any victories in Arabia, Carthage, and possibly Italy. That would be a different homecoming, less pressed for time.

That said, he wouldn’t have intended to stay. After securing the eastern/middle Mediterranean, he might have driven up into Europe, to re-secure Thrace to the Danube and scout for river connections between the Black and Caspian Seas. There aren’t any, but they didn’t know that. In fact, late in his campaign, he’d already sent somebody north to do that very scouting, so this would be a follow-up.

Thrace had fallen away from Macedonian control in in his later years, thanks to the powerful Odrysian King Seuthes III. Also, Alexander hadn’t forgotten those Celts who’d been singularly unimpressed by him early in his reign. (ha) Alternatively, he might have decided to go South of Egypt to Meroë, or west of Italy to Spain. But as he was centered in Greece, my bet is north into Eastern Europe. He already had incentive from a rebellious Thrace.

What would this homecoming have been like? STUPENDOUS, of course. All the stops pulled out. Macedonia was a gift-exchange society, so bringing home a fair bit of booty would be important. We’re told he sent presents home regularly, but this would be above and beyond. It would serve two functions:

First, he’d get to claim to be the wealthiest, most successful Macedonian king EVAR, and then some. So personal fame and honor would be on the line.

Second, throwing around oodles of wealth would be a great recruiting tool. His constant warring meant he was also in constant need of new troops. In his last years, it was clear he was happy to get troops from a variety of peoples, but the Macedonian core remained (as in the Successor Wars). Of course, continually draining Macedonia of men was bad for the future population, but “sustainability” was not in any way an ancient concept, whether in resources or in manpower. Early in his career, he did show a little awareness of this, sending back men for a “conjugal visit,” but as the campaign continued, he stopped worrying about it.

Anyway, he would also probably take the opportunity to build that giant tomb for daddy that was part of his Last Plans. Hard to know how much of those plans were either exaggerated or entirely invented, but that sounds like something he’d do. He might also have taken time to improve on local religious structures (such as at Dion), and set up something (no doubt monstrously large) at both Delphi and Olympia, as panhellenic sites.

As for the reunion with his mother and sisters, as indicated, I don’t think he was staying away to avoid Mommy Dearest. So, I expect he’d have been happy, maybe even overjoyed, to see them again.

#asks #Alexander the Great #What if Alexander had lived?#Alexander versus Carthage #Alexander versus Rome #Classics #ancient history #ancient Greece #ancient Carthage #ancient alternative history #ancient Thrace #Olympias #tagamemnon

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stagefoureddiediaz · 1 month ago

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Hi there! Hope you’re having a lovely Sunday :)

I love the theory you just posted in response to the Abby/BT breakup anon!! The only thing that worries me is Oliver specifically saying he could see Buck in queer spaces only IF Buck and Tommy are on a break… He also said something like “whether or not Tommy is Buck’s forever partner…” in that same interview. Isn’t this basically him implying that BT are still together at least as of 8x08 (since that’s what they are filming right now)? On the other hand this could also just be Oliver saying all of this to avoid any potential spoilers!

Side note: I also just think it’s very strange that lfjr liked a tweet with a meme of him drinking “buddie tears” while he is still on the show. Just unprofessional behavior imo. Especially since you would think he would want more buddie fans to like Tommy so it could keep him on the show. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hey Nonnie.

So I’ve pulled up the quotes for reference, and we do need to remember he can’t directly give anything away about things relating to the finality of bucks relationship with tommy, he has to answer the questions as if they are still together regardless of what he has filmed and why he knows - because he knows where the audience are in the story at the time of publication of the interview. Actors usually get a briefing sheet for each interview or set of interviews they’re giving (if they’re doing multiple interviews one day) - which will include the intended publication date for said interview - so Oliver would’ve known these two interviews were going out in time for 805, and that will give him an idea of what he can and can’t say. There may be information on the briefing relating to this as well.

The show needs to create intrigue without giving the game away and as far as the ga especially, bt are together and in a fairly good place at this point in time.

Oliver’s response was to a question relating to a throwback from bucks past. Now the question itself doesn’t directly refer to love interests, but it is implied, and that is fairly important.

He didn’t need to answer the above question with the below answer - why did he need to bring up the idea of them being on a break? He could’ve gone with ‘oh it would be really fun to have buck and tommy bump into one of bucks old girlfriends. I’m trying to think of which one would be best for this.’

But instead he went with on a break.

Then he proceeds to talk about Buck putting himself into queer spaces and being shepherded by Lucy (I am massively paraphrasing but the actual quote is below) in those spaces.

There is literally no reason to take this route on this question unless you’re hinting at something without being direct about it. It’s a very subterfuge-y answer - very much of the type we’ve seen Oliver give before and very much in keeping with some of the things he was saying about Lucy in the s5b interviews he was giving in terms of answering in a slightly odd way that when read after the episodes have played out suddenly make a lot more sense (I don’t have the time to find the quotes I mean but I’m sure if you Google you can find them!)

So we have an answer that gave a lot of random detail that the question didn’t really warrant. And then the second quote you mention;

That quote doesn’t really feel to me that it implies bt are still together in 808 - the language is generally past tense - ‘have been’ not will always be his first and ‘always be,’ I think, huge importance… again past tense - again in an answer where he could’ve used present tense - in fact the first ‘have been his’ instead of just saying ‘be his’ is more indicative of the relationship, if not being fully over, more or less over (if we’re getting them on that break Oliver spoke of!)

Oliver isn’t going to say anything to spoil things for the audience at this point - the big hurdles he and Tim have spoken of haven’t actually appeared yet and we don’t know what format they’re going to take (I have my theories, but we don’t actually know!) and how make it break for the relationship they are going to be.

We also don’t have a timeframe for how things are going to fully play out. I’m of the opinion that 812 is the episode when we’ll see buddie go canon, but that’s just my feeling (because it will be episode 118 and Tim likes to play with numbers!), it could just as easily be buddie going canon in 817 or 818 or any episode number in between, it really is dependent on how things get paced for both Buck and Eddie’s arcs, as well as the stories they want to tell for the other characters - because this is an ensemble show and there will be episodes focused on madney and henren and bathena.

I don’t for the life of me believe that Tim would have Tommy be Bucks endgame when he’s developing his character in this way. It would be incredibly easy to make Tommy likeable and a good partner for Buck with very little additional screen time needed - the scenes we’ve already had, reworked would achieve this. But no they’ve gone the direction they have and that in and of itself is pretty telling.

And even if buddie isn’t the end goal here, I don’t think they’d have buck figure out he’s bi and jump into a first relationship with a man and have it be endgame - and do it at the rushed pace they did, that’s just not how this type of tv works!

As for the lfj tweet liking thing he’s been on - well all I have to say is that it’s remarkably similar behaviour to Megan west and edy gangem and we all know what happened to their characters shortly after their little spate of crazy on Twitter main! The man has already behaved very unprofessionally with his cameos etc and was clearly reined in by the network in some way (I don’t pretend to know the details of what happened, all I know is that it’s highly suspicious that he went complete and utter radio silence for the entire hiatus and until after his return had been revealed and that the show sm pages did exactly the same). Regardless of if he is still on the show or not, he’s not doing himself any favours and his character remains an undeveloped lite version of both Buck and Eddie

#kym answers things #nonnie asks #this is of course entirely my perspective on things #I don’t pretend to have all the answers or know how things will play out #but I’ve watched for long enough and read enough of Oliver’s interviews to be able to spot subterfuge #the path of true love never did run smooth - so we’re going to have to expect bumps in the road to buddie now the show can actually go there #without getting blocked from doing so!#911 spoilers #evan buckley #911 abc #anti tevan #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #anti lou ferrigno jr

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potatowoogan · 5 months ago

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My Options On a WH Hospital AU?

Soo I just wanted to make this AU rant. I've seen a couple hospital/doctor AUs of WH and as someone who has been in and out of a hospital I better understand a lot of the roles Doctors, Nurses, CNA’s (according to google CNA stands for Certified Nursing Assistant) Ect.

I just wanna note for anyone who doesn’t know, that I didn’t come up with the original idea of making a hospital AU. Until I find out who made the first one to make the Hospital AU I will leave the credits to the original AU maker unknown as I truly don’t know who did do it but if ya know please let me know.

Some context

So a little context to better understand this version of this AU not everyone is a hospital staff member like in the other hospital AUs. You and or your ocs or the WH characters can literally just be existent in the AU as serving no serious purpose to the story (if you’d like to place yourself or an Oc into the AU you can comment what you/oc would play a role in I’d like to see what ya come up with).

Wally:

I have seen Wally be out as more so a director/doctor Also known as the Chief of medicine in the hospitals I have gone to (or can be known as the Medical Director depending on what ya call it at your hospital ya go to).

personality I just don’t see Wally as being a doctor, but if ya really wanted him on the team as one of the main medical staff then I’d see him more as a CNA. Anyways only because if we were to go off the cannon way that he understands stuff, he could help in assistance with nursing stuff. And not have it be souly on him to figure out all of the solutions to the problems, and instead he’d have a lot of guidance while being there to help. Also because is more less demanding role I’d say he would fit better in a hospital story as a CNA. That’s what I have him as in my personal hospital AU aka personal as in its in my head not on paper (the one I am kinda sharing a little of rn I guess, though I won’t share a lot as it’s more so one that I’ll keep to myself for now). Cause if we were to go based off of the cannon attributes that he displays it would match him because they don’t do as much as a full time nurse but still can help people (and or puppets in this case).

So Yeah I think that would fit him, especially in the children's ward or the general inpatient stay floor, definitely NOT the ICU where I go when I need to go to the hospital. Form what I know that’s one of the busiest floors

CNA Explained (For those who needs it)

According to Google’s description of a CNA with a little bit of my input. it’s an Entry-level role the providers for patients and nurses and can help in transfer of a patient (for those who don’t know what I am referring to when I say transfer, that’s when a patient arrives form an ambulance and can’t move themselves from the stretcher to the hospital bed), bathing help usually done with a nurse as well (or do form my experience that’s my understanding), feeding the patients. And also restocking the medical storage closet rooms and logging down patients information and history)

Julie & Barnaby (what I see them as)

As I mentioned I have spent a lot of time in a hospital. A good member/role of the staff that have seemed to help me get through stuff are Child Life/Volunteers. They help kids greatly with distractions like playing games that the child/children choses (lol ya kinda see where this is heading but for real that’s what the Child Life’s job entails)

Julie was portrayed as a nurse in a lot of the AUs and as for Barnaby I don’t know because I haven’t gotten that far into knowing the hospital AUd too much (as info on a lot of them is limited but, I would like to know so if ya have known about a hospital Au post or make one of your own ya can link it or send me the post) anyways I’d see those two working as a Child Life specialist because they are into games and support kids ect. Also I’d see Barnaby as the Head of the Child Life team as he can keep a conversation more straight than Julie but either way I’d see them as being on that team more that the main medical staff also Wally could go there too but yea either works for your mind and opinion.

Howdy, Eddie, Poppy, & Sally:

Personally again, I don’t see em as being on a medical staff team whatsoever. so they’d just merely exist and serve no purpose like explained above. And also I don't know what role would be good for them if ya did put em in (what roles would ya have em in and why?).

Frank:

Yes the Grumpy Man’s himself lol. If ya were to have him as any doctor in a hospital AU and or your Hospital AU then I’d see him as being an anesthesiologist (in a children's Ward mainly though can see some adults if that’s what ya wish to have in mind) and here’s why. The patients would be put to sleep anyways so he wouldn’t need to chat with people too much. Ya can through his grumpiness and sternness and he’s still kind hearted on the inside (a tough but caring for patients surgeon vibes though I absolutely don’t see him as a surgeon but what do ya think? Would you have him as a surgeon in your AU? And or see him as being one in a hospital AU?). I feel like for kid patients he’d be more explanatory towards them if they need to. Also with the professionalism he has the potential to have (at almost any career in almost any AU) he would probably stick up for what’s right for the kiddos/patients.

I might draw a little sketch of Frank in bug scrubs soon so Yee I’ll post that whenever I’m ready.

Ya can reblog or whatever. If ya do take inspiration off of this AU I don’t care about credits as idk how to explain it but I don’t necessarily feel the most comfortable being an AU creator I just wanted to put my thoughts out there.

Also I will probably add in the other characters at some point (Seeya and Latter as they were in this AU dream of mind but I don’t really feel ready to share)

(As y’all know) WH is owned by Clown :)

#rant post #wh related #wh au #correction #hehe :3 #wally darling #frank frankly #barnaby b beagle #Julie :)#eddie dear #lmao

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internetaddict104 · 4 months ago

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My live thoughts on Deadpool and Wolverine

* I’m torn between wanting to fangirl over the fight scene and wanting to sing and dance to *NSYNC

* Also I’m crying at the shots of DP doing the Bye Bye Bye choreo cut into the fight 😂

* The Iron Man helmet covering Tom in the photo with RDJ 😂

* Hearing Matthew Macfayden’s natural British accent is so jarring after watching Succession

* Wait I’m so confused on how Wade was interviewing for an Avengers position with Happy on Earth 616 and then it cuts to 6 years later on Earth 10005

* Wambsgans being the villain is insane

* This movie takes place within 3 days?

* DID THEY JUST REFERENCE THE OSCAR SLAP

* The little cgi Logan is so jarring

* *turns around* “I’m Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I-“ *gets bitch slapped by the Hulk and dies*

* HENRY CAVILL WOLVERINE VARIANT HOLY SHIT

* CHRIS EVANS?!?!?!?!?!

* IT IS CHRIS I’M FUCKING CRYING I LEGIT JUST STARTED SMILING

* JOHNNY STORM CHRIS EVEN FUCKING BETTER

* Did he just die

* I knew Wolverine was gonna just slice Sabretooth’s head off but I’m still sad there wasn’t any real fight

* Oh thank God Johnny is still alive

* Wait where’s the rest of the og FF? Where is my Ioan Gruffudd, Jessica Alba, and Michael Chiklis???

* Fuck she killed Chris 😭 I knew it was coming but it still hurts

* Why do I lowkey feel like whatever this Logan did to fuck up his world is gonna be something jokey and/or stupid

* Lady in Red playing during Dogpool’s intro 😂

* Also I did not know Dogpool was a girl

* The intro to The Greatest Show on the radio 😂

* There’s a lot of random music in this movie and idk if I’m really feeling it

* I saw a Scarlet Witch statue… 👀

* Oh shit Garner Elektra

* WESLEY SNIPES?!?!?!?! IS HE REAL OR CGI

* CHANNING TATUM GAMBIT ❤️❤️❤️

* My jaw literally dropped for these 3 I’m dead serious

* Oh this is where X23 comes in

* Wait is this Laura the same one from Logan or is she a variant

* So he’s the worst Logan because he went to a bar and the rest of the XMen got killed by humans? That’s so stupid he wasn’t even there like he didn’t lead the humans to them or run away

* Should I know who the purple girl with Cassandra is bc I feel like I should they keep focusing on her

* Should I know the bearded guy in the striped tank top bc they keep focusing on him too and I don’t recognize him

* Wait so Logan did run away when the XMen were attacked?

* Wait Logan betrayed the XMen?

* Huh so the portal was just white anyway it wasn’t an editing trick to hide anything in the trailer

* I know I should know who Pyro is but I don’t 😭

* Did they digitally elongate Emma Corrin’s fingers bc they look way too long

* Cassandra without the coat looks so sickly idk why the coat made her look fuller

* Logan’s disgusted look when Wade and Dogpool reunite 😂

* Oh I was wondering when Ladypool would show up

* I need to know if any famous actor is in the Deadpool Corps

* Logan holding Dogpool as far away from him as possible like a dirty dishrag 😂 he’s so disgusted by this dog

* WAIT LADYPOOL SOUNDS LIKE BLAKE

* Why is Kidpool a girl

* Cowboy Deadpool sounds familiar too who is he

* THE COWL 😭❤️

* I can’t make out what Blind Al says during the Deadpool fight and I really wanna know what she says 😭

* PETERPOOL

* So Logan is gonna sacrifice himself isn’t he

* Yeah I knew Wade would go in Logan’s place over the heartfelt speeches began

* And Wade isn’t gonna die he can’t he’s too popular

* Oh they both went

* Logan’s top disintegrating 😂

* “You look damn good in that suit” “I’m so sorry” I love Peter

* Wait that’s so cute they’re all in the main universe now (or Wade’s universe idk if they’re the same yet or not)

* I need to find the post credits scenes apparently they were leaked online but I can’t find them anywhere please I wanna watch them I read what they are but I still wanna see them myself

#seriously if anyone has the post credits scenes please let me know I really wanna see them #I literally just finished this movie I watched it on a 🏴‍☠️ site shoutout to the guy who uploaded it #The movie wasn’t even out yet in my country when I started watching it but since I went past midnight it is now 😂#Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers #spoilers #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3 #Marvel #mcu

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sunwarmed-ash · 3 months ago

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WIP Thursday/[Sinful Sunday post??]

hey so im gonna be taking time off writing for another job all next week so I'm posting this so you have something to read. DONT WORRY Sinful Sunday will continue, I'll just be busy this sunday and next making that capitalist coin!

This may turn into a fic, it may not. I wrote it right after I finished QAF for the 36th time.

Tags: Angsty steddiegrove, sex work, HIV+ character, violence

"Where do you go at night?"

Steve and Eddie are lying on Steve’s bed smoking weed when Steve asks the question that will inevitably change the course of their relationship, their future, forever.

"What," Eddie asks, trying and failing for aloof. He thought he had been so careful.

“You sneak out, every night. Where do you go, when you leave?"

Lying is the only probable next course of action. If he wants to keep Steve in his life that is. The truth will sever everything they once had.

“Dealing doesn’t exactly fit a normal 9-5," Eddie says. It’s a half-lie.

"You were selling drugs in Lafayette at 3 in the morning? Do you think I’m stupid," Steve snaps.

Eddie’s entire body flashes hot with the amount of detail in that accusation.

"What? No! Wait, how did you- hang on, have you been spying on me?"

"Answer the question Eddie!"

Eddie feels cornered, and that’s never a good place for him to be. Because when he feels trapped, he lies, and he can’t stop. He will say anything to cover his ass, even if its just to survive to see another minute.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you..."

Steve scoffs at Eddie’s attempt at self ownership.

"Why can’t you tell me, Eddie? I mean, after everything we’ve been through!”

Eddie bites into his tongue. He wishes it was that easy. God, does he wish it could be that simple...

“i can't, not with everything baby. I'm sorry.”

“Why not?” Steve demands and now he’s angry. His eyes are lined with tears and Eddie can feel the beginning of the end coming like an approaching storm.

“Because you won't love me anymore.”

It’s the truth. And Eddie hates to even hear the words out loud. Because its gonna hurt so bad to hear it twice. From Steve’s lips. The soundbite will live with him for eternity.

“Isn't that for me to decide,” Steve objects.

“You've already decided.”

Eddie remembers the shit Harrington pulled on Wheeler when she hurt his frail male ego by just existing in the same space as another man. He remembers the hateful way Steve spits the word ‘whore’ because he associates it with his father and all of his sins. It’s how everyone says the word. Like its poison in their mouth.

Slut. Hooker. Whore. But that's what Eddie is. Until he can find something that pays better. Because he has to eat. He and Wayne won’t survive an Indiana winter without heat. And after Eddie was banished and then half-heartedly rewelcome into a unstable healing community, no one in Hawkins treats him the same. Weed sales have dried up. No one wants to hire him for any job. Not even the mechanic shop down the street that is desperately understaffed and Eddie is overqualified for. So what the hell else is he supposed to do? Wayne just turned 68. He shouldn’t need to work 12 hour shifts just to barely support the kid he didn't ask for in the first place. Eddie never should have been his burden. So this is Eddie’s way of giving back. Pulling his own weight so he didn't feel so much like a goddamn freeloader all the time. But could Steve understand that? Steve wasn’t stupid, but he also wasn’t, lets say as morally flexible as some other people.

"I can't- do this Eddie... If you’re going to lie to me." Steve says and one look into his eyes and Eddie feels what's left of the tie between them sever.

"I'm not lying," He insists but its a half truth at best.

"You're not telling me everything, that counts," Steve all but shouts.

"You don't tell me everything."

He referring to whatever the hell went on between Hargrove and him two years ago. Eddie and Steve arent the only people different after an apocalypse. Their previous heated rivalry has all but burned out. So has Hargroves own personal brand of anger. They move around each other like chess pieces, always conscious of the others movement to limit interactions at school. But after school? Eddie’s seen Billy’s camero parked at Harrington’s more than it's parked in the trailer park.

"That's different Eddie,” Steve huffs, scoffs as he pushes his hair back. “and you know it."

"How, how is it different Steve?" Eddie’s never brought it up before tonight. Eddie’s never been one for exclusivity, why the hell should he expect Steve to be?

"It doesn't involve you, or us. This does."

"Right,” Eddie scoffs, “Well, for argument's sake, it is safer for you not to know. For both of us."

Steve is silent for three beats too long.

Here it comes.

Eddie can’t look at him. His face goes numb before the words can hit his ears.

"Then you have my answer Eddie.”

It still hits him like a slap in the face. Steve’s done with him. And it hurts so much more than he anticipated it would.

Eddie knew it was only a matter of time. He knew what Steve wanted in the end, and it was still someone more like Wheeler. A sweetheart. A family. Nothing Eddie can guarantee. Eddie doesn’t have much to say in his defense. So he doesn’t.

"I'm sorry Eddie,” Steve, obviously uncomfortable in the silence, speaks again. “This is just, too much for me right now.”

"Okay,” comes out of Eddie’s numb mouth, even if it's the complete opposite.

Eddie knew a clean break now would eventually be better than enduring their relationship fizzling out slowly. But it doesn't mean the inevitable failure of one more relationship doesn't hurt.

-two months later-

“Munson?”

Eddie blinks, of all the people to find him, here, he didn't think it would be Californian transplant, and fellow trailer trash bad boy Billy Hargrove from Hawkins. He just wants to disappear into the pavement.

Eddie’s feet move to sprint, but Billy’s lighting reflexes catch him before he can.

“Where the hell are you going now, Eddie?”

Eddie rips away from him. He hates the way his name sounds out loud. He hadn’t felt like ‘Eddie’ in weeks. He’s barely felt like anything. More like Nothing and no one. A nameless face in a sea of sex workers, businessmen, and bar patrons that he cycled through every day.

“It’s none of your damn business,” Eddie spits, though it doesn't have much venom. He doesn't have the energy. He's sick, he’s cold, and he’s so fucking tired. He still has two more clients he can’t blow off tonight if he wants to have a prayer at ever getting unburied under his last hospital bill. Billy Hargrove and Hawkins and all that past shit is his lowest priority.

“People are worried man,” Billy says, stopping Eddie from taking more than a step away. “Wayne especially. Don't you give a shit about him?”

Now Eddie is pissed, because who the fuck did Billy Hargrove think he was, telling him about what he should do? Talking to him about Wayne. As if he understood a goddamn thing about their lives! His anger flairs up his cough that only aggravates the pneumonia-scarred tissue and then Eddie’s coughing so hard it nearly knocks him over.

When Billy moves close to ‘help’ Eddie slaps him off.

“Everything I’m doing is for him! You don’t fucking know shit, Billy! How could you, you're just a kid!”

And while Billy was 17 and Eddie was 6 months into his 23rd lap around the earth, he felt so much older. His tragic sequence of life events had aged him decades. He’d be lucky to make it to 24 at this rate.

Billy watches him curiously, putting together pieces Eddie doesnt mean him to.

“Why did you take off Eddie?”

“Why do you care?” Eddie doesn’t really think it's concern he sees in Billy's features.

“Wayne doesn't have anyone else. You scared the shit out of him when you left.”

“Oh and what, you two are bffs now,” Eddie asks bitterly.

Billy shrugged.

“We've been spending a lot of time together, yeah.”

Eddie scoffs wetly. Fantastic. Now even Wayne has his own Eddie replacement. A better, nicer son. If Wayne didn’t need him anymore, well, he didn’t have any more ties back to Hawkins. He should be relieved, but instead he just feels empty. Forgotten. Unwanted. Billy had said people missed him, but the only name he offered up was Wayne’s.

Eddie sniffs up the tears threatening to spill and reaches into his jacket. He takes out the seven hundred dollars and change he’s managed to squirrel away after his last AZT prescription refill and holds it out to Billy.

“What is this?” Billy looks at the wad like its poisoned, and well, he's not entirely wrong, it's certainly dirty money. But its still green. And that’s all the world runs on. And speaking of money, the man he was currently scheduled to suck off is honking at him from across the parking lot, eyeing Billy with violent intent. Eddie needed to move quick before this escalated.

“I’m not coming back. T-To Hawkins, I mean. I can’t, so I need you to give this to Wayne for me. Can I trust you to get it to him?”

Billy finally takes the money, counts it, and then his jaw drops.

“There’s over seven hundred dollars here Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie sighs dejectedly. “It should have been more but,” but you got stupid and believed some pretty, coked-up twink instead of following your gut. And now you get to live with the weight of that decision, forever… “It doesn’t matter. Just, please make sure he gets it. It should cover the next few payments on the trailer.”

Billy looks at him for a long time.

“What the hell have you been doing Munson?”

Eddie scoffs before the car horn across the street blares loud, startling him right out of his skin.

“Nothing you want to know about. Just please make sure he gets it, and knows, I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Billy’s eyes lower suspiciously.

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Because it has to be.” Eddie can’t feel anything below his neck anymore. The honk is starting up again. He’s really pushing his luck now.

“Eddie, come on,” Hargrove begs and why does it sound like he’s actually pleading? Billy’s never had a nice word to say to him or Steve. And now he’s gone for what, a few weeks, and his enemy wants to become best friends? He doesn’t understand this plotline. He’s ready to get out of it.

“I’m gotta go, Billy. Please, look out for Wayne.”

Eddie leaves the very next minute and sprints across the street, just narrowly avoiding being hit by the semi that blasts his horn.

#like i said i may turn it into something more #its been in my drafts for like a year #steddiegrove #i have a little more written so lmk if you want more ill rb with it #metalsandwich #steddilly #harringroveson #eddie munson angst #steddie #angst #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #i post new stuff every sunday #sinful sunday #links in pinned

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electra-jolts-magnetism · 5 months ago

Note

...or...or reverse adopt

Griselda: Why did the girls give me a mother's Day card?

Griffin: I got a step-mom card.

Faragonda: I got a mother's Day card too.

All three: ...

Griselda: Did the girls really just adopt us as mother figures?

Winx: We did it in first year actually!

This reminds me of a post I reblogged 😂 It said:

Yes it's sweet when your fave adopts the plucky child they've just met, but the best trope is when the child finds the tallest, gruffest old man they can find and says 'yeah, I'm gonna be his problem now'.

The Winx spend more time with Faragonda and Griselda than their parents at this point, and those girls know something is going on between them and Griffin. They’ve been calling them their Moms for years (In the beginning, The three of them always chalked it up to an accident as it wasn’t unusual for students to call them “mom.”)

After graduation, The Winx realize that this could become confusing and decide that their Birth Mothers (& Vanessa) would be “Mom”; Faragonda would be “Mama”; Griselda would be ”Mother or Ma”; Griffin would be “Step-Mom or Wicked Stepmother” (because they think it's hilarious); and that Faragonda, Griselda & Griffin would be their “Bonus-Moms”. However, when referring to All of them, the Winx call them their “Moms”. And yes, the specialists are aware.

[Most of these take place after graduation, but some can take place before]

===== Bloom =====

Person A: What’s it like having two moms?

Bloom, looking through her phone: Five.

Person A: What?

Bloom, holds up her phone and shows them a picture of Vanessa, Marion, Faragonda, Griselda & Griffin having tea: Five moms, and It’s pretty nice.

Bloom, counting on her fingers as she lists them off: When I experience culture clashes, I talk about it to my adoptive mom because she can understand my point of view. (Vanessa)

Bloom: I’m able to get to know my birth mom and learn how similar we are despite not being raised by her. (Marion)

Bloom: Mama is always willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on and offer advice. And when she has time for tea, she will tell all sorts of stories about my other moms, especially the embarrassing ones. She also gives the best hugs. (Faragonda)

Bloom: When I was falling asleep during my classes, the professors eventually stopped waking me up; I later learned Mother told them to let me sleep. She would then go over everything I missed one-on-one during detention or let me sleep through detention if I was in there for another reason. Now, she lets my friends and I nap in her office and will make time for us in her absurdly busy schedule if we need her. She also gives surprisingly good hugs if you’re brave enough to ask. (Griselda)

Bloom: And if the Winx and I are ever in trouble or end up in jail, our Step-mom will bail us out and not tell any of our other Moms. (Griffin)

===== Stella =====

Stella, hears someone talking shit about Faragonda: Keep my Mama’s name out of your fucking mouth.

–––

Stella, hears someone talking shit about Griselda: Keep my Mother’s name out of your fucking mouth.

–––

Stella, hears someone talking shit about Griffin: Keep my Step-mom’s name out of your fucking mouth.

(This one, in particular, has led several people to wonder when Griffin married one of her parents; Luna is the usual assumption)

===== Flora =====

Helia, over the Phone: The guys and I are wondering if you and the girls are free this weekend?

Flora: I’m so sorry, but we all have plans.

Helia, a little curious: Really? What are you all doing?

Flora: Well, Mama’s taking Bloom and me to that new Botanical Garden that recently opened.

Flora: Mother got tickets to a Ballet that Musa and Aisha have been talking about for months and is taking them both.

Flora: And Stella and Tecna are going to watch a Meteor Shower with our Step-mom.

Helia: That sounds incredible. I hope you all have fun!

Flora: We will!

===== Musa =====

Some Asshole to Musa: Well, at least I have a Mom!

Musa, without missing a beat: Actually, I have three, and each of them could kick your mom’s ass!

===== Tecna =====

Timmy, staring at the device on the table in disbelief: Where did you get this?

Tecna, speaking casually as she typed away on a laptop that wasn’t even available for purchase yet: Mother made some calls. It turns out a lot of people owe her favors.

===== Aisha =====

Nabu or Nex: Hey, Aisha, can I ask you some quick questions?

Aisha: Sure, what’s up?

Nabu or Nex: Why do you have a dagger strapped to your leg? Where in the Magic Dimension did you get it? Do you even know how to use it? If so, who taught you? And do your parents know?

Aisha: My Bonus-Moms firmly believe you should never go anywhere without a knife.

Aisha: It was a gift from my Step-mom.

Aisha: Yes, I do. Mother taught me, and she wouldn’t let me go anywhere with it until she was confident that I knew how to use it.

Aisha, Smirking: Mama asked, and they said No.

#winx club #winx griselda #winx griffin #winx faragonda #winx bloom #winx stella #winx flora #winx musa #winx tecna #winx aisha #incorrect winx quotes #incorrect winx club quotes #winx #my answers

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imashoe69420 · 2 years ago

Note

Can we have a oneshot of Leo proposing to his s/o? or at least try because Reader is very clueless and even though she loves Leo, she also doesn't realize that he wants to create a special moment, and that the family also try to help him achieve it? please?

This sounds so funny lol

I’m going to assume you wanted fem pronouns bc of how you refer to the reader

===================================

No Take-Backs

Rise!Leo X Fem!Reader

Prompt: Leo tries to propose to you, but you couldn’t be more oblivious.

Pronouns: Feminine (she/her)

Timeline: Post!Movie (18)

Warnings ⚠️: Underaged drinking, slight angst, mild language

===================================

Leo took a deep shaky breath as he stared down at the small velvet box he’d uncovered in the top drawer of his nightstand.

He was gonna do it.

He was going to finally propose to you like he’d promised all those years ago. Well, it wasn’t actually that long ago. More like four years ago when you and him were both fourteen.

It was more of a joke at first: Leo would flirt with you incessantly, occasionally quipping some pun about the inevitability of receiving your hand in marriage. You’d teased him one time saying that you two would tie the knot at age eighteen. Little did you know how seriously he took it.

Leo remembered the chills that ran down his spine when you’d said that. Chills mixed with the loud thump of his own heart pounding in his ears:

“If it keeps you quiet, we’ll get married when we’re eighteen. Okay?”

She hadn’t said it in the traditional sense, and maybe (Y/N) was just joking with him—hence the beginning of the sentence—but he’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission… if that’s the right analogy.

No matter how many times Leo told himself to take a deep breath and relax, the turtle couldn’t stop thinking about the worst possible outcomes of this particular scenario. Now he was sure that you two loved each other and he wanted to finally let you know how serious he was about you, but what if you were actually just joking?

You were it for him, he knew that. For the blue clad turtle, there wasn’t anything or anybody else he’d want to spend the rest of his life with besides you. It wasn’t like he could just find somebody else unless there’s some sort of mutant dating app. And who can guarantee that they’ll look as beautiful as him? This wasn’t to say that you were as good as he could get. In fact, he never failed to admirably address your visage whether you’d just gotten ready to go out or rolled out of bed at 1PM. Leo always called you beautiful and he always meant it.

Not just your looks, but you always made him laugh. And—it’s kinda shallow but he can’t help his feelings—fed his ego through your relentless compliments whenever he did something to better himself, or maybe just when you’re feeling especially grateful for him. God, did had he hoped his ego would’ve somewhat left him once he became an adult. But alas, he still couldn’t resist hearing a “you’re my champion” breeze past your soft, upturned lips once in a while.

You calling his name caused Leo to fumble the velvet box before hurriedly stuffing it into the corner of the drawer and shutting it as quietly as possible. “Y-yeah, babe?” He stuttered out.

“Come here, I need your help.”

For the last few hours, you and Leo had been moving into your own apartment away from his cockblocking brothers and Splinter. He was proud of himself: being the first in the family to move out at a reasonable age and have a long term girlfriend? This was something you only saw in movies.

The blue turtle—who’d actually forgone his bandanna today. He totally didn’t lose it in the move already—slowly made his way into the kitchen where (Y/N)‘s voice was coming from. You’d been placing sets of dishes into the cupboard, but you and him were both minimalists so you only had two of everything. Two plates, two forks, two spoons, two knives. The only thing you didn’t have two of were the napkins, but that was obvious enough.

You held a plate up to your face and feigned thoughtfulness. “Did you want yours in the left cabinet… or the right one?”

Leo chuckled, gently taking the plate from your hand. “Now that we’re moving in, everything is ours. Our house. Our plates. Our toothbrushes.”

With an eye roll, you stepped aside, urging him to pick his side. The turtle scratched his chin feigning contemplation before claiming the right cabinet. He took a step back, resting his hands on his hips contently.

You giggled as you turned to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I can’t wait to start living with you. It feels like we were just dating a few days ago and now we have an apartment together.”

The time did seem to fly for Leo as well. You and him started dating when you were both about fourteen and have been inseparable since.

Now he was going to marry you.

He placed his hands on your waist, gently swaying the both of you with an iconic sly smile on his face. “Oh, yeah. You knew you’d be in this forever, right? No take-backs.”

With an enamored sigh, you gently pressed your lips against his snout. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

• • •

A month passed and Leo still hadn’t worked up the courage to propose. There’d been a constant whining voice in the back of his head telling him that this wasn’t a good idea.

Your words a month prior had him thinking that you weren’t ready to get married yet. If you felt like you two had just started dating, would you really want to get married so soon after moving in together?

But everything else told him to marry you. He wanted to have you as his forever. The memory of the two of you meeting, going on your first date, and having your first kiss played on repeat in his mind. All those moments meant so much to him. If he ever had children, he would recite them to them all the time; every chance he got.

One night, though, he thought was as good as any to try his luck.

You and him were sitting on the rooftop of your apartment building eating Chinese and drinking out of Coke bottles that may or may not be filled about half way with liquor. Leo quickly realized that alcohol mixed with emotions wouldn’t be ideal when proposing, but maybe it would boost his confidence if anything.

You’d been talking about your college courses and how tiring it’s been.

“I feel like a zombie sometimes: just doing things on autopilot. Everything’s more of an instinct than something I wanna do, y’know?” You took a swig of the spiked drink, sighing deeply afterwards. “Like, I go to school to be something more than what I am now but… I duwanna be a mindless slave to the economy. Y’know?”

The turtle in fact didn’t know what you meant. He’d never had to worry about school or college or the economy besides the rent for the apartment.

Leo shrugged. “Yeah, I can see that. I’m glad I don’t have to worry that much about school and stuff like that. Sounds stressful.”

You slowly nodded, the alcohol suppressing your reaction time. “Yeah, it is. But it’ll be worth it, I think.”

They sat in silence for a couple seconds, car horns blaring from down below. The chilly night breeze toyed with your hair, and Leo couldn’t help but admire you tucking the strands behind your ear before taking a bite of your orange chicken.

A question soon entered Leo’s mind and he thought it would be harmless to ask. “So, like… do you think we could… be more?”

That came out awful. He didn’t mean to stutter so much.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, chuckling. “Be more? What more could we be?”

Leo laughed awkwardly. “I dunno, like… what comes after two people move in together? We just exist together like an old couple?”

“Well, old couples are usually married so…” your words trailed off as you began to connect the dots. With a smirk, you slid closer to your boyfriend. “Ohh, you wanna marry me?”

The lump in Leo’s throat only grew in size, causing him to clear it out. “I mean—well—yeah, but eventually! Not like, now or super soon or anything.”

How smooth.

With an obnoxious laugh, you pressed your head against his shoulder. “You’re so cute. But I don’t think you want to marry me.”

This was something that the blue clad turtle didn’t really understand. How could he not want to marry someone as amazing as you? You always make him laugh, you’re fun to talk to; to have around, you understood him in a way he felt no one else could. Who wouldn’t want to be with you?

“Why’s that?” He asked.

You hummed in thought. “I dunno. I just feel like I’m not someone anyone would want to marry. I’m the girl people have fun with for a few months or years and then never see the rest of your life. My existence in people’s lives is very temporary.”

If you only knew how much that both hurt and concerned him. “No way. Not for me.” Leo unhurriedly reached for the ring in his pocket, the velvet texture of the box soothing his anxiety. “We’re locked down, remember? No take-backs.”

Somewhat of a tension filled the air the second he finished his sentence. You seemed upset—no, conflicted at what he’d said. The turtle began to say something else, but you quickly hopped to your feet with the Coke bottle in your hand. You pressed it to your lips, chugging it down until it was empty. Returning your vision to your boyfriend, you held out your hand to him and forced a smile.

“Dance with me?”

• • •

The next day, you were sort of hungover. Leo was the first to get out of bed to get you a glass of water and make breakfast for the both of you.

Your behavior last night almost diminished his hopes on proposing to you. Maybe it was best to wait a few years before even attempting if you already felt like you wouldn’t be a good partner in marriage. But the voice and the memories kept playing in his mind over and over again. It was as if it was his destiny to make you his. And soon. Very soon.

He tried again a week or so after the first time. You two were sitting on the fire escape talking and he felt like it was the time, but when he was down on his knee, you through your arms around him laughing and snorting in your drunken state. College had been kicking your ass and you hadn’t smiled often since his first attempt, so as to not ruin the moment, he bailed.

The next time, Leo had his brothers help him. But that was fruitless as well when you had to finish an essay, so you both turned in early into the night.

It became a battle to get you one, alone and away from your laptop, and two, to catch you in a good enough mood. Two months passed and Leo still hadn’t proposed, but you had just finished your midterms and were off for the next few weeks. He thought it was the perfect time to test his luck.

Friday night, he coerced his older brother to help him out. Snow had settled on the ground the day prior and he knew you loved the winter more than anything.

Later that night, your boyfriend basically yanked you to the frigid outdoors to the park. The two of you walked down the trail for a few minutes before you grew bored.

“Leo, where are we going?” You somewhat whined. “I love the cold but I’m freezing my ass off here.”

The turtle scoffed as to feign offense. “I’m taking you all this way and you’re complaining? I’m hurt, (Y/N).”

You chuckled lightly as you leaned against him. “It better be good or else you’ll find all your stuff in boxes when we get back.”

After a few more minutes, Leo demanded you to close your eyes and he would guide you the rest of the way. His heart thumped in his chest the closer they came to his surprise. You had to say yes. You just had to. The time and effort he put into this paired with his undying love for you had to be enough.

Soon, the two of you reached your destination.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.” Leo said as he ran in front of you and threw his hands into the air once you complied.

Before you was a white archway littered with blue faux flowers. There was a badly painted off-white picnic table to the side of it with a candle that seemed to be once lit in the center of it. The spread was rookie and maybe not the best setting for the winter but sentimental nonetheless.

“Surprise!” Your boyfriend exclaimed with a laugh.

“Aw, Leo, you’re so sweet.” He grabbed your hand and led you to the picnic table. “Did you do this all yourself?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, Raph did help me a bit. But it was my idea.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he sat across from you. The look in his eyes was different than usual. His eyes constantly darted around as if he was waiting for something. When he would make eye contact with you, you could tell that he was anxious.

“Are you alright, babe?” You placed your hand on his. “You seem... nervous.”

The blue clad turtle waved his hand as to nullify your concerns. ��No, no, I’m fine. Just great, but, uhm… I have something to ask you—er, tell you...? Ask and tell, I guess.”

You raised an eyebrow waiting for him to continue. Ever so slowly, he took your hand in his and led you to the arch. Underneath, he held your other hand and took a deep breath.

“For, like, the last few months, I’ve been trying to do this but… anyways, I just wanted to tell you how much I care about you. From the time we first met to now, I’ve always loved you.”

You cooed. “Aw, Lee. I love you too.”

He chuckled before he continued. “I love your personality and your laugh and the fact that you still organize our two plates the same way.”

“Well how else am I supposed to put them? Yours is right, mine is left.” You chimed in.

Leo gazed into your eyes, a small smile appearing on his face. “You complete me, babe. You’re the only person I’ve met that truly understands me. You’re someone I can always go to with anything, and I want you to be in my life forever.”

The turtle slowly got down on one knee and retrieved the velvet box from his pocket. Your hands shot up to you mouth as you realized what he was about to do. He held the box out in front of him and opened it to reveal a ring with morganite crystals within it.

“So, uh,” he mentally slapped himself for stuttering again, “So… I just wanted to ask… will you marry me, (Y/N)?”

Tears pricked your eyes as you began to sniffle from the cold and from the heartfelt proposal. “Is this why you asked me about it? Being more?”

Leo nodded. “Just like we’d promised.”

It took you a moment to understand what he’d meant until you remembered the memory he was talking about. “Oh my god, Leo, you still remember that? God, you’re so cute. But… are you sure? Like, really sure? You want to get… married to me?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more.” Leo said simply, an almost stern look on his face.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. When you had talked to him about no one wanting to marry you, you’d assumed that your relationship was temporary and Leo saying you two were “locked in” was only to make you feel better about the inevitable end. He wanted you. Forever.

“I… yes, Leo, I will marry you!” You exclaimed as you threw yourself at him, knocking both of you onto the snow.

For the first time in months, Leo took a deep breath and exhaled into your hair. He’d done it. He’d finally done it. His lover, his best friend, was finally his.

“No take-backs?” You piped up as you glanced up at him, an amused smirk on your face.

Your boyfriend laughed out loud before kissing the top of your head and nodding.

“No take-backs.”

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fluff #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt reader insert #rise leo #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #rise of the tmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt oneshot #rottmnt oneshot

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campweehawken · 6 months ago

Text

2024 Signups Open

Hello Campers! This is the official sign up post for Weehawken 2024!

Camp Weehawken is back for another year woohoo!

We are ready to open the doors up for another exciting year of camp Weehawken! Camp will officially start on Friday June 7th, however we are starting signups today!

We are keeping it pretty similar to last year, so here's a quick refresher!

Returning features-

DISCORD SERVER: The Discord Server is going to be in use again this year for Campfire group RP and general discussion of the AU.

This server was set up to help participants get in touch with each other, discuss the events of Weehawken in a group chat and share art and fics.

Discord is available to computer and mobile users and it’s free to sign up if you don’t already have an account. Requesting a link to the discord will be part of the Weehawken sign up process which I will be detailing below.

Links will be given out for the entirety of the event and won’t close until Camp Weehawken’s conclusion.

Important note: You do not need to join the Discord server to take part in Weehawken. The main posts and character interactions can take place on tumblr between RP/ask blogs. However it is highly recommended that you do so if you don’t want to miss out on anything!

Returning from Last Year: We are allowing participants to be Discord-exclusive, however we are asking that they have at the very least a text post detailing their character for reference. (full explanation here)

Spectator- If you simply want to spectate on Discord without actually participating in the camp RP, all you need to do is send an ask to this blog requesting a link and we’ll give you access to the server.

If you have any questions, send an ask to this blog. Without further ado, here is everything you need to know about signing up.

HOW TO SIGN UP:

Message this blog and give us these three details:

Role: Options are camper, counselor or staff. If you would rather have some other role like camp mascot, send a request! Campers are under the age of 18. They tend to range from 12 - 17 years of age but you can have somewhat younger characters. Only characters 18 years old and up can be staff or counselors. Because this is an AU you can make your character any age you’d like!

Blog Name: You will need to have an RP blog or Info Post to participate in Weehawken; when it’s all set up, tell us the blog name or where to find your Info Post. Tumblr might not let the message through if you type a URL. Just give us the name of the blog, like so: ex. “campweehawken”

Preferred Cabin: (doesn’t apply to staff) Campers and counselors reside in cabins that fit one counselor and a maximum of 8 campers. If you have any preference for what cabin you want to be sorted into, let us know in your registration. If you supply no preference you will be sorted into a random cabin.

Discord (Optional): If you would like a link to the discord, please ask for it in your signup ask.

Take a look at the 2024 Cabin List to see where you and other campers have been sorted as well at who the staff are! Links to all participant blogs will be available there. The list is constantly updating as more submissions come in. Discord-exclusive cabins will have links to the info posts for those characters.

If your blog has more than one character, you will be filling up more than one vacancy spot unless your characters happen to be family: cousins, twins, siblings. Then, the characters can share a bed in the cabin and fill up just one vacancy spot.

INFORMATION LINKS:

Since it’s hard for me to cover all of the topics in one little post, I’m going to give you all some resources to help you figure this event out.

-FAQ: Answers to general questions we receive. Also a well of basic information about this event.

-Camp Weehawken Staff Brochure: Information about camp activities and various roles to be played at Camp.

-Camp Tags: The tags that are used on this blog and participant’s blogs for the event.

If you can’t find an answer to your question in any of these places, just drop us an ask and we’ll respond as soon as we can.

All in all, Camp Weehawken is an open ended event! You can be as creative as you’d like. The moderators of the event are always open to suggestions for RP events, streams and more. But keep in mind that this is a public event! Please be respectful.

If you have any issues with other participants, how things are being run or any other problems, the moderators are here to help. You can send messages to this blog to request help with any topic.

Applications are officially open!!

-Camp Weehawken Directors

#weehawken 2024 #weehawken mods

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gleefultogo · 1 year ago

Text

Aira Character Talk

Since Aira was mentioned again in Saltyplaytoons (spongebob reference? Lol, funny either way) blog post I wanted to take a deep dive and talk about her. Plus at this point she’s the only pure character that deserves to be rescued from this shit comic and not written by a misogynist. She get’s shit on for no fucking reason.

It is very well known now that kique has stated that she is his “least” favorite character. Why? Probably because she’s another female character he made and got bored of her. Honestly it saves her the injustice he would have given her if she had more screen time. When we first met Aira, she was stuck in her creature form. I thought at first she was an evolved creature that was based on Aedra and her beast form was pretty cool in my opinion it looked like a mix between a cat and a dog. Which btw people was made and turned into by a Spirit, so that quickly leads my thoughts into rhov’s and feaf’s future kids. If a spirit can turn a dog into an evolved creature, then it’s very much possible because of the spirits for them to have hybrid kids. Will it be canon? I don’t know, like many have said; it’s obvious kique is bored of his own comic and shoved into our faces just to keep pages being pumped out with nothing really interesting. For me, I see the comic as a sitcom show that just goes nowhere and the characters do and say random stuff that doesn’t revolve around their world or plot. Besides, you can’t tell me half of the characters in this world wanna sit cooped up in one area based on “Tribes” Dog’s just don’t do that they would have way too much pent up energy and would need to run. Can you just imagine if this comic was realistic, the dog's muscles and bone structure would become weaker because they aren’t doing anything really, they just sit in one place and that's it. Ok sorry, back to Aira :)

(Aira’s first appearance form)

You see what I mean though? She resembles a sorta dog and cat hybrid mix. The paws are a dead giveaway as they look like a feline and she has retractable claws. It’s a neat design in itself. I'll give kique that much of any positivity for his comic XD.

Very Interesting design features if you ask me. Anyways, Aira gets killed by kargo and she wakes up a normal dog again and sets off into the woods to heal her wounds I guess? Probably also went to seek shelter maybe. We later on see her again on page 138. Heavily bleeding still and this when she meets keirr and you know how it goes. He ends up helping her and she’s taken aback from being surprised I guess, which is quite valid of her character, as we do eventually learn about her backstory and she was never treated kindly by others. Aira is a character who’s a really good example of someone who would have a “fixation” on someone, I don’t think it would personally be a bad thing and realistic to her character because she’s never been treated so kindly before and i don’t think she’d be able to help herself with that mindset. She obviously took comfort in keirr as she hesitated to follow him at first, but also because he was offering to help her and wasn’t appearing a threat to her.

(oh look when keirr was actually a nice guy, before becoming a dick to her)

Moving forward. Keirr takes her back to her cave and was suspicious why she was living in such a large area for one individual. Aira remains mute and just eats the food she was given. Which I suppose was rude on her part, but her communication skills seemed to be lacking as she was trapped inside a body and couldn’t talk for a long time, ok at least that makes sense because there is a valid reason enough for her to be doing that. Eventually keirr leaves her behind as she is now safely placed back into her sheltered area. But she ends up following him and keirr ends up venting to her about why he couldn’t go back to his family, he was understandably grieving over zilas. I find these next few parts important to Aira’s character. She willingly sits there even if not knowing him for not a very long time. But she sits there and listens to him vent and doesn’t question him, that’s just an empathetic thing and it's wholesome to have seen that in the comic as they being the characters actually talked about things that troubled them, and it didn’t lead to sex confrontation. She may not have known him very long, but she’s a character that gives off a warm and comforting vibe, like a friend you can tell anything too without her judging because she obviously cares about others.

Later keirr ends up following her and getting to know her more. Then we see a page with them together and keirr is giving her physical therapy?

(hey keirr how do you know about PT?). They end up jumping over some logs to strengthen her legs or whatever. Kinda pointless in a way if she was born with a weak structure. It’s like saying you can just magically cure a dog with mobility issues with just some PT. Wellll nope, it’s much harder and time consuming. Plus it won't fully heal someone with a physical disability, it may help strengthen her a bit, but she wouldn’t be able to fully walk normally. Compare it to a dog who was born with swimmers syndrome or cerebellar hypoplasia. That’s a lot of PT work and also medication in order for them to walk to a degree. It’s not something that can fully be cured, so Aira’s 180 later on would be really stupid when the author wrote her this way.

Now the next page (198) is important, keirr states he has to go back home cause he’s been gone for too long. Aira very clearly goes into panic mode and begs keirr to stay with her because she clearly states she doesn't wanna be “Alone” She’s told to basically just shut up and he’ll return soon whenever. Again Aira panics and kisses keirr forcefully.

Now I find that quite sad and interesting for her. I’m not a therapist or a physician by any means. But this is my own take on this situation. Aira is using a tactic that almost feels like she is forcing her own affection onto keirr, not being in control of her own body due to her panicking. In a way, yes Aira did sexually assault keirr and he had every right to confront her about it because it was wrong of her. He leaves her behind anyway to go back to his family. Aira is then left with what looks like the expression of shock and most likely guilt because she’s being left behind again and most likely processing stuff in her head. I'd like to believe that her mind is very scattered due to her having issues of being left behind.

We then proceed to see Aira again and most likely took keirr’s words to heart and goes back to the spirit of strength because she feels weak without and can’t survive. She practically feels hopeless without that spirit, keirr stops her and then asks was it because of him? Keep that in mind. Aira is obviously upset in this scene and then tells keirr her back story and the things she did. She basically claims that she went back to the spirit because of Keirr, she was upset. It’s like if someone told you as a person, that you weren’t good enough for them, nor did they want you around them because to them you felt like a burden. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aira was the first dog in the comic to commit suicide because she deems herself as a burden and was never accepted. If the spirits didn’t exist and the comic took more of a dark turn, I think she would have been a character to have that type of mindset.

Eventually keirr takes Aira under his wing with a better understanding of her to a degree. She proceeds to then help him look for his family as she’s apparently traveled all over the map while being a beast at the time and saw many tribes fall and create new ones. We meet the deer rp tribe and then kique puts them there because he doesn’t know what to do with them at that moment. Aira is then very clearly seen to be hesitant and doesn’t wanna join them because they were just going to ask if they saw family members of keirr’s. But then the 180 happens and they join anyway. Keirr becomes a dick and then judges fucking Aira behind her back because of the jarl confronting her leg structure. Yeah hey morons, maybe she's struggling because she got a giant ass heavy deer rack strapped to her head and has weak legs, antlers are not light things. Of fucking curse she’d be struggling.

Honestly that’s when I started hating keirr the most, like why the fuck are you jugding her? She literally told you she was born with a mobility disability and was tossed aside for it. *sighs* She ends up stuck with Keirr as a Herbalist, like kique? The fuck man, how stupid can you be. You made a character with a physical disability who struggles with that and you give her a rank that requires to walk a lot? Like what? She’d be a terrible herbalist because she’d probably take much longer to even get to a location and back to the tribe. She has to carry her weight around. How frustrating, it’s like he literally forgets his own character traits they have. Like if you didn’t wanna deal with a character with a disability then why give her one if you're gonna 180 it.

Page 481. The page that did it all for me and hated this dude's guts. Ok so even if Aira did end up stuck in a tribe she didn’t wanna be, plus she looks absolutely miserable in the panel. She literally got excited when he returned with bootleg kargo after their little flirting session or whatever that was.

(look at the sweet baby… I love her)

Like damn keirr, you should be fucking honored that someone likes you for you and your company, plus she was even worried about you. He could have easily just told her he was being sent to scout, like keirr did you not forget that you joined the tribe when you didn’t have too? Like at all. Aira stated to you that she didn’t wanna be there and wanted to go back to looking for your family. But whatever, he gives her the cold shoulder and tells her to suck it up and build connections with a tribe of strangers. God I really want to just rewrite this page at times. Keirr should have welcomed her with open arms (or paws) and told her about his travels and that he didn’t find what he was looking for unfortunately. Like why did you diss the only character who showed remorse and care for you. She obviously likes having you around and because you took her under your wing, you have no right to be a moody dick to her. This is when I see abandonment issues come into play. As someone who has abandonment issues myself, Aira is so frikin relatable. It hurts a lot when you think about it and you're stuck in your head wondering what you did or if you're doing something wrong to have someone push you away like that. It’s the worst feeling ever and poor Aira here basically got rejected from someone she clearly cares about.

(She looks so lost and heartbroken in this page) But like keirr, dude how the fuck did you forget that she told you earlier on before you joined the stupid tribe. That she literally went back to the spirit because of YOU. That’s basically her struggle, Rejection and being alone. I’m disappointed that some of the people were siding with keirr on this page. In reality if a friend asked about your mental health and you told them to fuck off in, just because your moody. Then be damned if they leave your ass. That's such a shitty thing to do to a person. Aira is no exception and didn’t deserve any of that. And sadly it only gets worse for her as even when he did do that, she still looked out for him and had to save his ass from a ghoul.

(She cares about him still)

(Fuck you keirr, you should have thanked her)

I’d also like to point something out. But in a certain page, Aira claims she lived with the meteor tribe. I’m unsure if she was referring to a beast or when she was a normal dog before cursing herself?

If that’s true then could Aira quite possibly be a victim to rape as well? I didn’t think much of it at first because the wording confused me for a while. But going back it made me think. If she was used by MT before arenak rules then she’s very much understanding when it comes to her trauma and issues she has. In conclusion Aira seems like a complex character with her own trauma and if it was written better, it would have been interesting to see her overcome her said trauma. She’s a literal victim, a lot more than what kique claims rogio and his “mental chains” bullshit. Aira didn’t have a choice in her life,she didn’t ask to be born the way she was or have to deal with not feeling wanted by others. I feel if kique actually knew how people worked when it came to trauma and one’s mental health and emotions. Aira and keirr could have been a great duo for each other and helped support each other as friends and grew a good connection based on needing each other in a certain time because they were struggling. Sexual intercourse during trauma isn’t something that’ll help someone. It's only a distraction really at the moment. But again it shouldn't be a way out when you're in your feelings and all that. It’s quite unhealthy. I’ll say it again, Aira deserves better and needs out of this terrible comic.

#home comic #asmundr #kique7 #asmundrhome #kique #bad dog comics #dog comic #home #kique nordin #asmundrcomic #Aira #johan nordin

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kz-i-co · 2 years ago

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Don’t Fall In Love: Part 2

Summary: You are one of the most popular bloggers on your campus, telling enriching stories of your personal heartbreaks anonymously. But your readers are not ready to handle the newest heartbreak of finding out your best friend dating your ex.

Pairing: Lee Haechan (Donghyuk) x f!reader

Genre: college au | angst (eventual fluff x smutt)

Warnings: story may contain strong language, mentions of drugs and alcohol - sexual references - reader discretion advise.

Words: 4.6k

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist | Nct 127 Masterlist | Nct Dream Masterlist

Taglist: @lovingvoidgoatee, @lunaryoongie, @matchahyuck, @yixingtion, @mosviqu, @ohmyhuenings, @nctzennikki09

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #51 Please understand that my short hiatus was necessary as I can firmly say....I'm going through hell. And those of you still accusing me for bullshitting fake news....then shame on you - but also honored you think my creativity is this impressive, thanks I guess. I will gladly get to your questions as my DM box is officially full - also thanks again....I guess - but please let me vent on my own because this is all too real and once again....NOT okay with it. I never seen this coming. It's bad enough I had to confront my oh so famous ex on the matter and thought I was crazy to split up his new found relationship. The jerk didn't take it well since he brought up my relationship with J - his best friend. Oops did I forget to mention that? Call me slut or hypocrite - what ever floats your boat but I as well was under a lack of information and I would take it back if I could. I have more regrets than I would like to admit and people reading who are close to me will probably connect the dots eventually and my identity will soon be blown but as of right now I'm venting and this is the only place I can comfortably do it. I will get to my session on D soon but right now I'm pissed and rather not talk about it. Thanks for being here anyway. Xoxo peace :::

"(Y/N), help me hang this." Minjeong asked letting one side of the banner dangle. It's been a few days since you've found out about Donghyuck and Minjeong and you still couldn't deal with it, but at least you played nice.

"Why are we doing this?" You sounded uninterested.

"Jimin's birthday." She sounded offended.

"I know that.....she said not to make a big deal out of it." You shrugged taping the other side.

"That's the best part." She smiled once again. "You okay? You seem down lately."

"I'm just drowning in school work, exhausted." You lied.

"You need more sleep and to stop partying."

"I've only been to two this week." You made your way to the kitchen and pulled out a can of soda.

"And stripped in front of the whole fraternity." She giggled. "And can't forget trashing your ex's."

"Must we keep talking about this? I was drunk and stupid and I said I was sorry."

"Alright." She began, following you. "Actually....can I ask you for dating advice?" She said, changing the subject.

"Trouble with catfish already?" You tried not to smile.

"It's not that....and stop calling him that." She smiled sarcastically. "How long did you date Jaemin until you guys started.....you know, sleeping together."

You didn't lie that the question alone caused your stomach to sink. "Well, first of all, he was a fuck buddy so the first date technically."

"Well then, your other ex...."

You sighed avoiding her question. "Min, you just started dating this guy and you want him to fuck you already." Your eyebrows furrowed.

You can tell she was uncomfortable. "I'm just getting impatient and I thought guys in college dived right into that stuff."

"I mean you ain't wrong. College guys are horn dogs." You giggled. "But I don't know, maybe he's a gentleman."

You chuckled to yourself because you knew that was the farthest from the truth. Donghyuck was no gentleman, at least not anymore....or maybe this was somehow an act to look innocent to get girl to fall for boy faster - what an evil genius.

"So am I wrong to worry? All we've done is kiss and hold hands. I want more." She sounded defeated and you as her best friend would feel bad and want this douche to pay but this was Donghyuck we're talking about, you didn't want happiness for him. Cruel yes but maybe he deserved it.

"Break up with him." You said nonchalantly.

"Not this again (Y/N). You act like you don't like him but you met him once, can't you try a little harder."

You heard a knock on the door ending your conversation thankfully. "I hope that's not Riri, I told her to distract Jimin, we're not done." She panicked as she opened the door.

"Speak of the devil." She squealed hugging the person on the other side and of course it had to be none other than your ex himself. "You came early to help?"

"Of course." He spoke and you couldn't help but laugh to yourself in the kitchen. His tone sounding unfamiliar.

"(Y/N) be nice." She warned as she passed you in the kitchen. "I have some balloons here that need to be filled up and I still have the punch that needs to be made and oh the snacks."

You and Donghyuck both shook your head at Minjeong's pacing as she needed everything to be perfect.

"I'll stay here with the snacks." You offered, already grabbing the bowls from the cabinets.

"Okay great. I'll blow up balloons." She grabbed the bag. "Oh shit, I left the cake in the car." She panicked and made her way to the door. "Channie, can you make the punch, you do it the best."

"A-huh." He nodded feeling overwhelmed and as soon as she left he sighed.

"Channie." You mocked as soon as he made his way over. "I love you Channie....you're so cute Channie."

"Please shut up." He grabbed the bowl, not caring he basically pushed you out of the way.

"What's wrong, no love in paradise?" You teased.

He just glared at you as you continued your fun. "I'm surprised you haven't told her yet....seems unlike you."

"Like I said, you tend to ruin relationships all on your own." You shrugged pouring the chips in the bowl.

"Yep, that was all me." He said sarcastically.

"I'm surprised you haven't slept with her yet, come on Hyukie, you're better than that.....have you lost your touch?"

"How do you even know what we've done."

"Did you forget Minjeong is my best friend? She tells me things....and she is upset."

"Upset huh?" He turned towards you with a smirk. "She really wants me that bad?.....I was waiting for her to beg.....virgin's especially can't wait long enough."

"You're sick. Maybe she's just desperate."

"You let me know when you hear next door." He remarked as Minjeong opened the door cutting off your conversation.

You crumbled the rest of the chip bag and threw it aggressively in the trash.

"Cakes fine." She smiled and sensed the awkward tension. "How's the snacks coming."

"Everything is dandy." You smiled and Donghyuck nodded and continued his punch.

You grabbed the completed bowls and made your way to the living room to place on the coffee table. You really tried not to show your disturbed emotion as you turned to grab more bowls seeing the two embraced in a sweet kiss and giggling together.

It hurt....it hurt because that was you once.

"Um....can I add liquor to this?" Donghyuck was quick to pull away, wiping off his smile as he saw you grabbing another bowl close by.

"This isn't that kind of party." Minjeong giggled.

"Not a lot, just enough to take off some edge." You knew he met you but you didn't turn around to show you were listening. You were done listening.

"Half a bottle." She said and made her way to the living room blowing up balloons.

Then you finally looked back as he gave you a rueful smile and then suddenly emptying the whole bottle causing you to softly giggle. Not a party if Donghyuck isn't spiking the punch, typical.

....

"Guys, they're gonna be here any minute." Minjeong announced as the talking started to die down.

"Isn't that your ex?" Yetak spoke next to you as Donghyuck was practically hiding in the kitchen, engaged in a conversation with Mark and Renjun. You could tell he was anxious to even be in this situation that you so happened to make worse by lying to everyone.

"Nope, they just look alike." She looked at you puzzled and then back at him. "I'll explain later but for now just pretend you don't know him okay?"

"Shhhh....she's coming." Minjeong had everyone quiet and as as the door opened....

"Surprise!" Everyone cheered as soon as Jimin and Riri walked through the door. You didn't invite a lot of people to your apartment, just some close friends and of course Minjeong allowed Donghyuck to invite some of his friends and bless your soul Jeno and Jaemin decided not to come saving you a night of disaster.

"Oh wow....thank you everyone." She smiled and leaned next to Minjeong. "I said no party."

"It's not a party....it's a gathering." She smiled cutely.

"It's a party." She smiled but you could sense the anxiety in her.

"It's not even big enough to be a party.....I only invited a few people." She remarked. "We have drinks and food....just a hang out - you only turn 23 once."

She nodded looking at you for help. "If you're really concerned Channie made some special punch if you need to relax."

"Or Mark bought some drinks, since we're all adults." He spoke up and Jimin locked eyes with him and immediately looked to you causing you to shake your head.

"Some of us." You smirked trying to get rid of any suspicion.

"Oh Jimin.....I didn't introduce you yet." Minjeong dragged him closer and he couldn't help but fake a smile as Jimin was already set up to cause disaster. "Jimin this is Haechan."

"You're the catfish?" She spoke and you combed through your hair panicked.

"Catfish?" He questioned.

"Don't take it personal Hy-Haechan.....we knew Min met you online and you know it's hard to trust anyone. Most of them lie and cheat and hide who they really are."

He glared towards you but quickly pulled off a fake laugh. "You're right....there's a bunch of crazy people on those sites, lucky Minjeong didn't meet one."

"Nope I didn't." She held his arm leaning closer.

Jimin locked eyes with you again shrewdly. "Nice to meet you."

"Do you mind if I get dressed real quick, Min?" She made a beeline through to her room. "(Y/N), Riri.....help me." She signaled and you were quick to follow.

"Can you be any more suspicious." You shouted in a hushed whisper.

"What the fuck is going on? Why is he here?"

You sighed. "That's Minjeong's new boyfriend."

"Very funny." Riri laughed.

"I'm not lying, it's been him all along -the catfish."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jimin practically yelled.

"Keep your voice down. Can you see why I've been so pissy lately."

"Oh my god, she don't know? You didn't tell her?"

"How am I suppose to tell her. She liked him before I even knew who he really was. I can't do that to her."

"But you're gonna let her do this to you?" Riri spoke up.

"It's not her fault, she never met "my ex" before." You shrugged defeated.

"So what is this? Is this his way of getting back at you." Jimin asked.

"He swears he didn't know she was our friend."

"Bullshit." She shook her head.

"Well, he seemed pretty startled when he first met me."

"And you just played it off like you didn't know him?"

"What was I suppose to do Ri....say hey ummm you know this is my ex that broke my heart into a million pieces."

"Yes."

Jimin looked more angry than you. "I don't know who I should be more pissed at...you or her or him."

"Trust me I'm pissed at myself as it is." You put your hands on your hips, taking a deep breath.

"And he's not in anyway consider breaking it off with her?"

"I tried.....he doesn't care about me anymore."

"You have to tell her." Jimin said with more sympathy.

"Let her be happy with that jerk."

"I don't mean for her, for you. This is not healthy (Y/N)....not after what he put your through - is still putting you through."

"Well, it's too late.....she's already sunk in deep."

"I don't care. She deserves to know, unless you're gonna keep lying to her."

"Besides - if she knew she was doing this to you, she would be upset." Riri spoke up after Jimin.

"Okay fine, but not yet."

"Sooner is better than later, she can't fall farther than she already has."

"I know, I'll handle it. I mean.....if she still wants to date him after then it's whatever."

"Why would you do that when you're still in love with him?"

"I'm not still in love- I'm not." You could tell they didn't believe you. "I'm fine - I promise."

"Guys. Everything alright?" Minjeong opened the door and Jimin quickly changed her shirt, avoiding suspension.

"Everythings great, I love the party."

Minjeong rolled her eyes playfully. "I know I know, I just want your birthday to be special."

"It is, thank you." She gave a genuine smile as you all looted back to the rest of the apartment.

"Drinks you say?" Jimin grabbed you and headed towards the kitchen. "Nice to see you again Hyuck- oops I mean Haechan." She smirked and you couldn't help but giggle as you both grabbed some drinks off the counter.

He gave a look of annoyance. "Hmm, what did she tell you?"

"Oh nothing.....I just think that if neither of you are gonna tell Minjeong than I will." She warned causing you both to look at each other timidly.

"Go ahead, I already told (Y/N) to tell her.......I did nothing wrong here."

"That's priceless." She laughed.

"What did she tell you about us.....I'm dying to know." He leaned on the counter.

"More than enough."

"I bet my life it wasn't the truth." He said causing you to laugh causing the attention of Minjeong from across the room.

"Let's not do this here....it's Minjeongs party after all." You said and Jimin took a sip in agreement.

"Have the punch it's stronger." Donghyuck smirked before walking away.

"Still in love huh?" She asked as she walked away as well. You took a deep breath grabbing a cup of his poisoned punch.

He definitely put more than one bottle in here. And it showed after three cups, but at least you weren't the only one.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #52 I wouldn't say I'm a messy drunk but you may be fooled once you're a witness. I tried to contain my emotions, I tried to contain my actions but when your love life is this much of a mess than wouldn't you agree I deserve it - a little medicine to forget my past and apparently my present. It hurts and booze is all I have. Relax - it doesn't mean I'm turning myself into an alcoholic but every now and then I need something to ease the pain. Let's just hope I don't say anything I regret the next day. :::

"I'm so curious yeah.....sajin sok niga!!!!" You sang along drunkenly with Minjeong. "Georeo nawa wae!"

"Psst.....how long are you going to let this go on?" Mark spoke next to Donghyuck as he watched you and Minjeong sing and Dance to the music.

"You want to turn the music off?" He took a sip of his drink.

"I mean this girlfriend - ex girlfriend thing."

"(Y/N) is gonna tell her anyway, so I'll just wait it out."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know her."

"I need a refill." Minjeong made her way to the kitchen. "I love your punch Channie.....I can't get enough."

"Oh but you will." He pulled her away as she practically collapsed into his arms.

"But it's so good." She whined.

"You can have more tomorrow." He said sweetly as he guided her to her room.

The party was pretty much cleared out by this point. "It's getting late I guess we'll head out." Renjun spoke as he stood up.

"You guys can't go yet. We're not done singing." You slurred your words. "Oof, it's hot." You started taking off your shirt.

"She has a habit of stripping when she's drunk." Jimin laughed and Donghyuck combed his fingers through his hair in annoyance as soon as he stepped out of Minjeong's room.

"I'll put her to bed, you can go." Jimin offered as Mark and Renjun approached the door.

"Thank you for inviting us, happy birthday Jimin." Mark spoke before making an exit.

"We didn't even sing happy birth-" You puked before finishing your sentence.

"You guys go, I'll meet you back." Donghyuck said to Mark and Renjun and he grabbed you gently, guiding you to the bathroom.

He leaned over the tub, turning on the shower to warm. He started unzipping your puke filled jeans helping you out of them as you just stared at him apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe I should of listened to Minjeong and only put half a bottle." He showed a slight smile.

"I'm sorry for ruining our relationship." He was caught off guard from your statement. You always accused him first for ruining the relationship but now it was the other way around. What changed with you and when did you feel this way?

"What do you mean (Y/N)." He looked at you puzzled.

"I'm sorry I was a horrible girlfriend to make you cheat." You teared and he sighed taking a moment to comprehend your confession.

"You weren't a horrible girlfriend (Y/N)."

"I bet Minjeong is better than me." You looked up at him. "Does she make you happy?"

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay." He turned you around and unclipped your bra and guide you to the shower, closing the curtain as he faced away from you respectfully. Even though he's seen all of you before, he knew it wasn't his right anymore.

Once you were done, he handed you a towel and helped you to your room picking out some simple sweats, getting you ready for bed.

"Drink this whole glass before falling asleep." You nodded taking the water as he headed towards your door.

"Hyuck."

"Yeah?" He turned around.

"Can you stay with me?" You begged softly.

"You know I can't do that." It was his turn to look at you apologetic.

"Oh....yeah." You said quietly. "Well, thank you for taking care of me."

"Sure." He smiled softly. "Goodnight (Y/N)."

"Happy birthday to me." Jimin spoke as she got up from cleaning the puke off the floor.

"Well technically..." He pulled out his phone. "It's 1:47.....it's not your birthday anymore."

"Har har......thanks old friend." She threw the rag at him.

"Ew." He dodged.

"It's your ex's puke." She laughed. "So.....about that."

"I don't want to talk about it." He started towards the door. "She's a mess."

"Well, can you blame her?" She started making the mood more tense.

"I didn't cheat on her Jimin, I don't know what she told you but she caught something and she took it way out of proportion."

"Then why don't you explain that to her."

"I tried, she won't listen to me."

"Well, maybe she's willing to listen now." She crossed her arms.

"It's too late now.....I moved on, now it's her turn." He opened the door. "I really didn't know about Minjeong if she believes that or not but I can't lose sleep over this. I'm sorry."

"It's not just that." Jimin spoke as he took his hand off the door knob, alerting his attention back. "She's not over you, can't you see that?"

He shrugged. "What do you want me to do.....she broke up with me."

"I think the answer is pretty simple." She said softly.

"It's not my fault she didn't tell her, she's the one that lied."

"But it doesn't make it right." He sighed at her answer.

"Look, I don't owe her anything, she decided to push me out. If she chooses to tell her the truth than fine, but for now I'm going to continue on with my life and she needs to do the same."

"Alright....I get it, it's none of my business - I just care about my friends that's all. But she will know eventually and I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Have any of you considered that it's not just (Y/N) that is hurt?" He confessed before walking out the door. "Happy Birthday Jimin."

She softly smiled in return and let out a long groan as soon as she locked the door behind him.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #52 Okay so I admit....I fucked up. Pretending I didn't know my best friends new boyfriend is probably the dumbest decision I have ever made but what can I say - I panicked. I saw him and my mind went blank.....because the truth be told.....I'm not over you D - there I said it. Most of you called it anyway. Why do I even bother hiding anything. Those two damn years we have spent together was the best two damn years of my life - even if I still think it was wasted. D was the one I was so sure I wanted to marry, to eventually have kids with, to grow old with - my everything. But what changed? I know you guys are still dying to know.....but I'm just not ready. I got drunk last night and poured my heart out just to be shot down. Regrets regrets regrets - now he knows how I feel, I showed him weakness and now he's probably gloating in his victory. Probably even telling J of how much of a mess I am at this very moment. I'm in for a treat that's for sure. Well I guess that's all for now. Xoxo peace :::

"Can I talk to you for a second?" He arched his eyebrows in confusion as you were the one knocking on his door.

"I don't want to be rude (Y/N) but I'm leaving soon to meet up with Minjeong."

"I know, it will just be a second." Your tone was serious and he opened his door to let you in. Mark was nowhere to be seen, leaving you and Donghyuck alone for your disliking.

"So what's up?" He sat down on his wheelie chair, gently rocking back and fourth. You couldn't help but admire his comfy state - hair slightly a mess - slight dark circles forming under his eyes from his lack of sleep caused by late night video games and - sweats to top it all off. You missed that.

What were you doing? This is your ex you are thinking about. He wasn't yours anymore - stop staring at him like that. "(Y/N)? Are you still hungover?"

"Um- yes definitely hungover." He smirked at your stumble. "I just wanted you to know that, that wasn't me last night.....I was clearly drunk and I said some thing's I didn't mean and I'm sorry."

"You didn't say anything upsetting." He grew confused.

"Yeah but I still said some things I regret....I don't remember every little piece but I do know you helped me to bed and I just wanted to thank you."

"Sure but for you sake, let's not do it again." He leaned forward resting on his knees. "You made poor Jimin clean up your vomit on her birthday."

"I threw up?"

"All over the place.....even on yourself."

Your eyes grew wide trying to recall the events that happened. He cleaned you up? Does that mean he undressed you?

"I know what you're thinking." He stood up. "I had no intention of seeing you naked so get those dirty thoughts out of your head. I just helped you in the shower."

"How am I suppose to believe you when I was drunk."

His expression turned sour. "You should know me better than that.....and besides it's not like I haven't seen you before."

"But you don't have that right anymore." You snickered. "Who am I kidding, it wouldn't be the first time looking at other women when you're in a relationship."

He sighed clenching his teeth. "This is what I get for helping you?......Why don't you do everyone a favor and don't get wasted anymore because no one is going to help you."

"I didn't ask for you to help me."

"Why are you even here if you were just gonna harass me?"

"I just wanted to tell you to forget last night even happened."

"Forgotten." He held open the door and you walked out, you turned around thinking more words were going to be said but instead - a door slammed in your face.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #53 Transferring was becoming more and more clear as I live day to day. I am just making everything worse.....aren't I. Every time I open my mouth I find myself regretting what comes pouring out - drunk or sober. I don't know what to do by this point. My heart is like a balloon - slowly being deflated. :::

"What's wrong with you?" Jimin said as you burst through the door and collapsed on the couch.

"I hate everything."

"What happened now?"

"I went over to thank Hyuck for helping me last night but it turned into an argument like always."

"You went over to his dorm?" She asked.

"Yeah." You shrugged nonchalantly.

"Minjeong is on her way over there now, what if she saw you?"

"He said he was meeting her - never mind, I don't care.....I didn't see her it's fine."

"If you're gonna hold up this secret of yours, you need to be more careful because what if she thinks you two are hooking up behind her back, that would be worse than lying."

"That wouldn't happen." You shook your head.

"Why because you're gonna tell her the truth?" She forced.

"No because every time we're together we argue. No love connection what's-so-ever." She glared at you. "I'll tell her jeez, no worries I'm just waiting for the right time."

"There's never a good time, that's why you should just get it over with."

"I know." You sighed finally sitting up right, turning on the tv. "I've literally been rehearsing what I'm going to say."

"Just make it short and simple. Haechan is Donghyuck and you're having a hard time accepting them together."

"I'm not having a hard time-"

"Stop bullshitting (Y/N).....you can lie to yourself all you want but you're not fooling the rest of us."

You rolled your eyes but you knew she was right. "I'm just gonna go drown myself in alcohol."

"(Y/N), no more drinking." She laughed.

"Honestly I'm done talking about this right now." You snipped. "I just want to forget about him for one damn second."

"So....we ordering food, then."

"Yes please." You faked whined causing each other to laugh breaking the tension.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #53 Yep.....I should have most definitely kept my mouth shut, because I might have pissed him off worse than I thought. But I should have learned that if you mess with a snake, you're gonna get bit but I flinched and now the venom is traveling down to take me out for good this time. :::

"(Y/N) get dressed." Minjeong burst through the door being dramatically over excited.

"Why?" You groaned not wanting to get up.

"You and I are going on a double date." She said and Jimin sucked in her lips trying to not say anything.

"Huh?" You leaned up.

"Come on.......it will be fun. Dancing and dinner - hot sexy date."

"With who?" You were beyond puzzled.

"Okay so maybe I'm not really sure.....but Haechan says he has this friend that wants to hang out and he's single so...." She shrugged.

Donghyuck selecting a date for you? This can't be good. You pissed him off this morning and now he is in some way, taking revenge. Who could it be? Maybe he payed some desperate nerd to hook you up with. The thought just made your skin crawl. He was definitely up to no good.

"I'm sick."

"(Y/N) please...let's have fun." She pouted.

"Okay but the second I'm uncomfortable, I'm leaving." You'll be surprised if you last the first 5 minutes, to be honest.

.....

"Will you stop pacing, they will be here any minute."

"I thought this place was a lounge not a club."

"It is a lounge, I guess they are just packed tonight." She shrugged.

"I swear if he brings some creep to hit on me-"

"Look they're here." You glanced over seeing Donghyuck entered first and you already hated him for looking the way he did. He may be the type to wear sweats all day if he wanted to but when it came down to business, he knew how to dress nicely and you grew angry from just how attractive he is.

He glanced at you but by the way he eyed you up and down made your question what he was really thinking. He almost seemed speechless. You just hoped he wasn't thinking anything negative.

He did love me once?.....

You tried to shake off the thought of him, looking behind to see who he thought would distract you for the night on this oh so exciting double and you almost thought your eyes deceived you. What an asshole! You knew he was out for revenge and he couldn't sink any lower.

"Hey (Y/N)."

"Hey Jaemin."

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