#am i gonna be in denial about it and insist its coming out the same way i am dragon age 4

[vodkacheesefries]

I haven't even finished fantasy high sophomore year but I need junior year now

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

[blood-injections]

Thinking again about an au idea I had where. I saw a post about coming back wrong. But not wrong. Just changed. New. Coming back or well, being brought back, not wrong just as someone else. A blank slate but not quite just a new person with a sense that they are indeed someone, and that they just need to find out need to remember, but those who brought this person back cant accept that who they tried to bring back is gone and so theyre insiting this new person is and they just have amnesia or something and the new person is like no its different om dofferent stop insisting. And it has the 'trans kid at family gathering/reunion' effect and its like. 'Everyones calling me a name but thats not my name thats not me. Theyre insisting it is and that im this person but im not im someone else! Thats not my name im not the memory you know i am not who youre mourning stop calling me that name stop insisting that im this stranger. I am not the same person that was dear to you and i owe you nothing.'

And it gave me an idea. Where one of the fabulous four dies and is brought back. Specifically, because i thought it would hurt the most and also like, ghouls always the one being frankensteined i should shake it up a little. Kobra Kid dies and Party Poison can't accept that their little brother is dead. So they bring him back. But when he wakes up it isnt Kobra Kid in that body. Or maybe, it is, in the sense that who died was someone else, had a different name, and maybe in the future of this au this new person becomes kobra kid, thats who they discover they are, after they woke up in a strange world in a strange body that isn't theirs but also.. is. It feels right but the situations all feel wrong. They become kobra kid but it remains to be seen if this kobra kid is still party poison's brother.

Because party poison's brother is dead. And they tried bringing him back but now theres someone else in their little brothers body. And this someone else insists that theyre someone else and its betrayal and denial and longing on both sides and party poison is still grieving and is now being haunted by the ghost of their brother in the form of his body walking around all because they couldnt accept that he was gone. And now his bodys walking around perfectly fine but their brother is still dead and gone and they have to accept that somehow. And the new person, who im just gonna call Kobra, is anything but regretful of who they are now that they exist. They know theyre not who poison says and they want to go and find out who they are, remember who they are, but its awefully hard with everyone insisting that theyre someone else, someone they knew, someone thats gone. Poison especially, always breathing down kobras neck, and everyones calling kobra the wrong name, looking at him all sad or angry or with pity and he is just. Blameless. Hes someone else and he doesnt owe these people anything but theres also the internal struggle of, well technically they are the reason im here so i do owe them something, i owe them my life, dont i? Even if I was an accident?

So maybe for a while, they try. They try so hard to be the person these strangers say they are, they try to feel things, to remember things that just arent there. But it just doesnt happen, it never will, because hes someone new, hes not who these people are mourning. And pretending only hurts everyone in the room. He realizes this and leaves before hes too miserable, too guilty to not. Because these strangers still cant accept that hes not their friend anymore, and he realizes that he owes them nothing, so he leaves, to figure out who he actually is. And maybe, down the line, once Poison accepts that somethings happened, changed, and finally lets their brother rest, maybe they can get past the roadblock of but thats their brothers fucking body- well not anymore. Maybe both sides can settle with kobra being, 'well i cant be who you want me to be, i can only be myself, if you can accept that, i can accept your friendship, if you truly want mine, mine, who i am, not a ghosts '

And maybe it works out, and they become friends, the bad blood settles, the grief, it never leaves, but it rests. And eventually, maybe kobra even joins the crew, and in some small way, poison gets their brother back, they get their old brother back in the miracle of getting a new one, weirdness of it being the same body aside, because kobra is so different from the brother they lost that its hardly the same body to them anymore too, its just kobras body because at some point they stopped separating the body they brought back from the person it belongs to. And eventually, kobra may see poison as his brother, too, and its all come full circle even though everything has changed.

Just, transgender allegorys and major grief and angst and mourning but also healing and acceptance and finding oneself and family to found family back to just family again and ugh. Yeah. Me when the venom siblings, but not really, but still the venom siblings in the end. Maybe they dont call themselves the venom siblings/brothers until its PartyPoisonandTheKobraKid, because they're something new, and thats the bond they build, thats who they become. Brothers, the Venom Brothers. A brotherhood earned. Earned back, in a way, but also a brotherhood built from the ground up. If I ever write this its so over for you guys.

[revunant]

"Can we talk?”

DAMON IS LAID ON HIS STOMACH, arms and head dangling off one side of the bed, eyes fixed aimlessly on the dark static of the carpet. The lights are off, and he clearly sees the bright yellow crack that splits across the room when Regan opens the door, even though she’s behind him. (He doesn’t like having his back to the door, but he’s too worn out to care.)

She must take his lack of response as a yes, or at least not a no, because he hears her come in - and then, a moment later, the weight of someone else sitting on the mattress next to him. He waits for her to speak first, something she’s by now used to doing.

“I don’t know how much longer I can cope with this- us. You. I’ve probably put up with it for too long, and I know you probably agree with that.”

It’s not something he’s given much thought to. But even if ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind’ was a valid excuse, rather than just an explanation, it’s not like he can tell her about the things that have kept him so occupied. Yes, yes, she’s probably put up with it for too long. 

In the pause, she reaches over to rub his back, this timeless, immortal gesture of I know it sounds like I’m mad at you, I know I probably should be mad at you, but I’m not. All the same, he tenses almost imperceptibly under her hand, like his skin knows of its own volition to shy away from human touch. She’s not surprised by it. She’s also not surprised by the patches of gauze she can feel under his shirt.

She’s a little surprised, but more confused than anything, by how cold he’s felt lately - in more ways than one.

“You’ve been gone for days, you don’t say anything to me or Femi, you don’t even take your phone with you, and then you come back all beaten up and you won’t even say, like- hi, sorry I dropped off the face of the Earth? The fuckin’ physio office have been ringing nonstop ‘cause you keep missing appointments and they’re gonna have to fine you for it…”

Damon resists the urge to agree that it all sucks, and he’s the worst. He knows how it would come across, but he’d mean it, wholeheartedly, with all that he has. Not even remotely had he expected Regan to care about him to this degree - he’d assumed their relationship was less about that, and more about we’re young and we’re bored and we’re horny, and we live together, so we may as well be an item - but he’s not entirely sure how to cut off the supply without hurting her in the process. It’s probably too late to.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about you, I’m still gonna worry about you, but I can’t, I’ve…I have other stuff I need to be focusing on, and so do you. And I can’t make you stop whatever it is you’re doing when you go on these benders but I can make the decision to not have a boyfriend who’s one wrong move from getting himself killed.” 

A beat.

“No, that sounds shitty. I don’t mean it like that. I just don’t think I can help you, not unless you let me, and there’s no point attaching myself to a ship that insists on sinking. Plus…” 

“Plus?”

Pathetic. The first thing he’s been able to say to her and it’s echoing her words back at her like a brainless, half-dead parrot. He cringes inwardly at how limp and empty and small he must seem to her, especially as she reaches over to confiscate the envelope of Davidoff and its both tobacco and non-tobacco contents from his bedside. It’s a good thing she at least did something to fill the silence, though, because it lasts a good minute as she tries to figure out how to put it.

“...Is there something you’re not telling me, James?”

He stammers, but only barely, see-sawing between it’s about the supervillain thing and it’s about the recreational anaesthetic thing - he’s not sure whether to feign complete ignorance or risk outing something she doesn’t already know about. Blessedly, she continues before he can do either, blocking him from making another mistake in a long string of them.

“I mean…am I an experiment to you? Or, like, a part of you being in denial, or…I dunno, some form of self-harm?”

It’s so far removed from what he’d been expecting to talk about that the “What?” he squeaks out is almost entirely involuntary. 

“Maybe I’m losing it. I didn’t even figure anything out on my own, I was just talking to Myla about you, and…she kept saying weird stuff, like, are you sure he’s actually into you? and I got to thinking-” 

“Of course I’m into you?” 

She lets him interject, but doesn’t honour it. “Are you gay or something?” 

“What? No.” 

“Come on, James - we’ve never even fucked!”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Staunch atheist, but you just love the whole no sex before marriage thing, huh? You’re full of it. It’s not about that, even, it’s about the going missing and not telling us why, I just…I wanted to believe that you trust me. Like, you’d at least trust me enough to tell me who you are.” 

You don’t want to know who I am, he thinks, even though by now he knows she’s talking about him being secretgay; something that he definitely isn’t. He lets it hang in the air for long enough to make it clear that he doesn’t trust her, even though he’s not entirely sure where she’s been coming from for the last few turns.

Instead of huffing and storming out like someone with a normal amount of patience would, Regan stays. He hears her sigh softly, feels her weight shift as she leans back on her hands and looks at the ceiling. The conversation wasn’t comfortable, but the silence somehow is, and they’re both grateful to sink into it. Damon is grateful, even, to feel the slightest touch of her leg against his hip. He knows he’s doomed himself to be alone for a very long time, for as long as it takes, but for now, it’s nice to pretend that he hasn’t.

After about ten minutes; after Regan’s moved again to lie on her back next to him, their shoulders rubbing together; after the distant hum and clatter and hiss of Femi making dinner has begun;

“So we’re breaking up?”

“Yeah,” Regan replies, casual without being distant. Sad, but not expecting it to take too long for her heart to unbreak. “I guess we are.”

It’s for the best. He makes a soft, tired sound of resignation. (A clatter; Femi curses; Myla laughs. Damon can tell Regan’s watching the door. He doesn’t want to keep her any longer, but he doesn’t know how to say much of anything without sounding like a martyr.) It’s not long before she sits back up, and he feels her eyes on the back of his head.

“We’re here for you. Y’know? Whatever mess you’re in, whatever you’re doing out there, even if it’s bigger than all of us combined…it’s gotta be better for you to not face it alone. We give a shit about you. We want to help.” 

“I know.” He also knows she’s about to leave. “Are you really confiscating my baccy?"

”Yes.”

And that’s that. She doesn’t even say it’s not about the baccy and you know it like she’s done every other time he’s asked that question before. She just removes herself from the room without another word, taking the envelope with her, and Damon makes no move to protest or follow. He listens to them talk outside, too indistinct to make out anything that isn’t shouted; he listens to them eat dinner, watch TV, say goodnight.

He stays stuck in place well past the point that the rest of the house must be asleep, and then, like a ghost, or perhaps a stranger living in the walls of his own home, he wolfs down some leftovers from the fridge, leaves some cash for the next collaborative grocery shop, and disappears again out of the back door. 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can you do a reader x Damon salvatore where everyone thinks the only reason they are together is because damon sired her, but she gets angry and tells them the truth that she always had feelings and didn't say anything because she knew he liked Elena...

Sire Or No Sire

damon Salvatore x reader / masterlist

summary; it is easily perceived why you look at Damon the way that you do, though most people think that is an affect of him having turned you to save your life. And that is the last straw of you realising that they know nothing / warnings; mentions of Damon x Elena, mentions of Damon x Caroline, jealousy, angst, mentions of the sire bond, mentions of sex, swearing, angst, breakup, toxic friendships

Their voices, their aloud opinions, brought you nothing but pain, the tragedy seeping into your vervain allergic veins, as you shook your head. It was as though they thought that you were unable to hear their chatter, but you knew that they would be wrong with assuming so. You were no longer weak, with human senses flooding your every whim, you were a vampire.

An immortal. It felt strange to think that you would no longer age in physical layers, instead, your mind would be the only participant within your body to forever grow with the various memories that you would be collecting through the next decades. Though, you weren’t the only one, Caroline was in that room, reprimanding Damon for saving your life.

You could hear her words loud and clear, as the Salvatores and the rest of your friends stood by, some agreeing with her, such as Elena, whereas others remained silence, such as the vampire that had turned you in the first place. The viscous tone hissing out of the blonde’s mouth scathed you emotionally, and ended with you thudding back against Damon’s bedroom door, before entering the room, and ensuring that it was locked behind you.

“The two of you are only together because of the sire bond. You turning her, had become nothing more an excuse to fuck and put a label on it!”

Did she think that she was defending you? Because to you, it didn’t sound like it, but that was Caroline for you, always insistent of her opinion, though, you two did get along. The pair of you understood what it was like to be on the sidelines, whilst perfect Elena played the victim every time, and got any guy she wanted, even her friends were swayed with the young gentlemen first.

Elena Gilbert was the epiphany of perfect; she was the damsel in distress, giving the opportunity to whomever she sought after to come and save her. You weren’t her, dissimilar to the whiny brunette, you were prepared to fight the monsters that threatened your life, human or not. And that included Damon long ago, before you saw how sweet the over century old man was.

One thing that you had never done though, was date someone and bluntly flirt with their brother. That was crossing a line, you appreciated honesty, especially in this lifestyle, and Caroline had declared her thoughts. She spoke truthfully, believing her own words, though they were far from facts.

They needed to know that you weren’t invested in a relationship with Damon because of him turning you, it was something you had never asked for, nor dreamed about. But it had happened, and whilst it brought the pair of you closer, there was no maker bond, instead, there had already been a flirtatious brewing between the pair of you whilst you were still human.

You becoming like him gave the two of you more time together as he trained you to breathe idly in and calm your bloodlust. Or how in the middle of the night, he would come by your house, and awake you from a terror, afterwards taking you for an innocent stroll through the woods.

Without him, you’d have been on a path to nowhere, lost and unable to find a route to continue on, wading through the life after death with no direction, nor set course to keep you in line. Surely, you’d have murdered many a man or woman, if you were dependant with surviving with her bewitched curse of immortality, digging into their inviting throats with your dagger canine teeth, that pulsed to be fed.

“That’s a load of- you know what, think what you want to think, you have a history of jealousy filled, toxic and werewolf involved relationships, you are not exactly the best person here to judge me on my healthy and loving romantic partnership with y/n!”

Damon half yelled at the vampiric blonde, however, another tone was fast to respond to his defensive outburst and cause the both of you a disgruntled pair of expressions. “She was turned by you brother, that runs the risk of a sore bond appropriating her feelings.”

Oh, noble Stefan. He had caused you to snap, thrusting the door open to his brother’s bedroom open, making its hinges weaken, as you whisked through the halls in seconds, joining the compendium of mystic falls in the living space, all eyes turned to you, well aware that you had heard all their smart mouthed and toxic opinions.

The sire bond wasn’t something that was too uncommon, however it affected nothing in your life. It was just for them to pick at something that was good, they could never allow something that was actually decent to revel in existence. They had to be the ones with the perfect prissy lives, not others.

“Shut your mouth, ripper!” Yes, you pulled at that string of his life, dangling it degradingly before his eyes, watching as his eyes that were focalised into you turned sour. “I love your brother, and just because you loved the love triangles the pair of you would be involved in with bitchy Gilbert over there, or bloody Katherine, does not make any other people that he or you are with invalid!”

Elena stepped forwards, her doe eyes boring with contained anger towards you. Though instead of speaking to you, her words were directed at her ex, and she wanted to gouge your reaction. “You promised me that we were going to last forever, are you going to do the same to her?”

“No, because I don’t need a time span to appreciate her presence in. I don’t need to tell her lies nor make selfish promises, because with her I am a better man.” Damon sneered at her, coming to stand beside you, protectively wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s the sire bond.” Elena stated furiously, hating the fact that she was not getting her way. In turn, you laughed, shaking your head at her incessant denial of allowing Damon to move on.

“Shut the fuck up, if you had maybe given a shit about me in the past, you’d have realised that I would stare at you enviously when you were at his side. But maybe you knew, and you just wanted to brag, but I can prove that there is no bond other than the one we already built together.”

“Yeah, and how are you going to do that?” She pestered, and with a sorrowful glance directed at Damon, you dropped your head, anything but proud with what you were about to do. Swiftly you turned, watching as Damon’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to leave.” Whence you began to walk, a hand grasped your wrist, keeping your feet locked where they were. Caroline’s voice broke through the air, her eyes were filled with regret, from all the things that she had said, and all the opinions that she had formed.

“You’re not serious! You’re gonna break up with him because of us?” Stiffly you nodded, watching as Damon felt a taken back. He gaped his mouth open, in shock.

“I’d do anything for my friends, despite the circumstances not being reciprocated. I’m not even allowed to be in a relationship with the man that I love because you are all endorsed with the idea that it’s some stupid bond. Yes, we have a bond, but it’s not a sire one.”

“Baby, don’t.” Damon practically begged, watching as you yourself were torn and conflicted in regards to the situation. A sad smile monitored your face, as you slipped out of his grasp.

“We might have to wait another lifetime until we’re allowed to be together without resorts of undermining and people that don’t really care about us. Some people want there to be a whole ass agility course to separate us, but maybe if we wait, we can prove how wrong they are, if they’re not dead by then.”

Caroline felt terrible, once again Stefan had taken his brother’s life from him, and Elena, well she felt accomplished. She went to reach for Damon’s arm, but he threw her consoling manner and herself across the room, heading straight after you, with a bottle of bourbon.

If you could leave them to prove a point, so could be; he loved you. That was enough, especially for him, he could leave those doses of poison behind, if he would grant himself permission without asking, a peaceful life with you.

[krxideprnz-archive]

Idk if my message went through cause my internet sucked, but since he doesn’t have a technical age....

Can I request a sub Mahito x dom reader smut.

He would be such a brat and I live for it.

I just wanna peg his pretty ass into oblivion and just wreck him.

I wanna watch him cry and scream as I deny his orgasim a few times and have him beg.

I wanna break him and watch his pretty face turn red.

Since I’m kinky asf, he would totally have a praise kink and be really into roleplay.

Also I have a mommy kink so yeah...

As to how this all occurs, it’s up to you! And sorry if you got this request from me more than once, once again my internet was pretty crap

Oh my god I really hope this is alright because I just absolutely despise Mahito 😔😔 but I tried to push these feelings away somehow.

I hope you enjoy this hun 🥰

Sub! Mahito x Dom! Reader

This includes content not suited for minors

Includes - master and servant talk/orgasm denial/mommy kink/pegging

A cup of coffee was placed next to you on the table by Mahito, who was currently staying at your place.

Since the the two of you started dating, he insisted on staying at your place, and who were you to say no to that pout of his?

But the time with him turned out to be better than you expected it to be, and he was surprisingly thankful for his new living space. 

“Well aren’t you a nice little servant?” you spoke, jokingly, as you placed a little bit of sugar in your beverage. 

You could see Mahito pause his movement before clearing his throat. 

“Servant?” He giggled, trying to cover up the rush of excitement that filled his body at your words. 

You watched him closely, surely something had happened that got him all excited, and you were sure you knew what it was, ready to use it fully to your advantage.

“Don’t tell me you like it when I call you that?” You smirked, turning in your chair to face him completely.

He swallowed hard before shrugging his shoulders, still an attempt to show that he wasn’t affected.

“I was just surprised”

“Okay, then I order you to leave. Your master has to work now” you winked at him, working to slowly get him to admit he was turned on, even though it was painfully obvious.

Mahito still stood where he was as he spoke; “come on. You know I get turned on when you call me that”

“How am I supposed to tell? You said you were just surprised” you stated, crossing your legs and still looking at him with a exaggerated oblivious look. He sighed, a small pout forming on his face. It was clear that he was becoming impatient, so he decided to finally voice his thoughts;

„Please Master... call me Servant once more“ he finally slipped into his role, bright eyes staring back at you as a small grin graced his features. He pushed all your buttons just right, so you stood up and gestured for him to follow you into the bedroom.

You could practically feel the excitement radiating from his body as he entered your shared bedroom. He stood by the bed, waiting for your next oder like the obedient servant he was.

„Get on the bed, now“ you spoke, watching as he lowered his body onto the matress, expectantly staring up at you.

You began to undress him, relieving him of every arcticle of clothing covering his pale skin. Your fingers traced over the marks covering his body, touching every sensitive spot you know he liked.

He was sighing in content, feeling your digits on his body and your face hovering dangerously close over his, breath fanning over his parted lips.

„Touch me more“ he spoke, Mahito was craving for your touch, desperate to feel your skin on his, but he completely forgot the place he was in. A slap to his thigh was the thing that snapped him out of his daze.

„What was that for, (Y/N)?“

„Know your place. You don’t tell me what to do here. And thats Master for you“ you ordered.

His breath hitched in his throat when he watched you get up and move away from the bed. At first he was scared that you would leave him here since he disobeyed, but soon, you came back with a very familiar item placed in your hand.

He gazed at the strap on in your hand as you walked towards the bed again, hips swaying with each step you took. You also began to undress yourself, exposing more and more of your body to Mahito, who was watching every single movement like a hawk, admiring your soft curves and features.

You threw the fabric to the side and stepped into the strap to secure it around you.

„Look at you getting all excited, I havent even done anything yet.”

You could see his cock begin to harden. You got in the bed next to him, laying on the bed, he still had to do some preparation.

„Well. Serve me first. Suck“ you gestured to the toy.

„Hey come on. Im not gonna-“

„You wanna get fucked or not? You’ll have to be a good boy if you want to“ you spoke, and he hesitantly crawled further down to take the toy into his mouth.

The dildo was covered with his spit as he sucked on it further, his tongue licking over the shaft.

„Prepare it real good, honey, so I can fuck that tight little ass of yours thoroughly.“

His breath got caught in his throat and he gagged when you began to fuck up into his mouth.

Small tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he looked up at you, generous as you are, you let him take a short break to speak.

„Im ready!f-fuck please...“ his dick was dripping precum on the sheets, forming a small wet spot on the soft sheets. You tapped your finger against your chin, pretending to think about your answer, even though you already made up your mind.

„Okay Servant. But one more condition. Ride on this cock like the needy little thing you are“

A faint blush coated his cheeks but he still complied, positioning himself over the dildo before looking at you confirmation. When he saw you nod, he lovered himself onto the toy, taking him slowly until you completely bottomed out.

„Hngh-ah!“ at first he felt nothing but pain, he felt like he was being torn in half by the sheer girth of the dildo, but at the same time he felt unbelievably good, shaking on top of you while youre grinning up at him.

„M-Master--“

„I want you to call me Mommy, can you do that for me?“ you cooed and thrusted up into him. His head fell to the side with a breathy moan as the pain he felt slowly contorted into pure pleasure.

„fuck..Mommy!“

„Yes, let everyone know whos making you feel this good“

He started to bounce up and down on the strap, grabbing onto your shoulders for support.His nails dug into your skin, creating small crescent marks on your skin from the pressure.

Every time the toy reentered him, a loud pleasured moan escaped his throat at the intense sensation. Sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

„Ah! My legs...“ he sighed when he started to feel a growing pain in his legs from all the harsh moving they had to support. You let out an exagerrated sigh, before turning the both of you around, so Mahito was underneath you, hair fanned out over the pillow, blush coating his cheeks and eyes glossed over. He looked ethereal.

His lips parted with every desperate sound he made, head falling back into the pillow as you set an even pace to pound into his walls. His hole was clenching around the toy, seemingly pulling it even further in.

His mouth fell open in a silent scream as the toy started to kiss his prostate, touching the sensitive spot with each following thrust.

„s-shit! Mommy! G-Ah!“ his eyes closed tightly as he felt his incoming orgasm, the familiar sensation in his body started to grow, threatening to push him over the edge any second now. And you could definetly tell from the way his moans got louder and louder- and his breathing staggered.

The only words that left his mouth were „Mommy“ or „more!“ and mumbled incoherent phrases.

You grabbed his dick tightly, denying his orgasm- and Mahito started to wiggle in your grasp. „Why- just- ngh!“ he cursed as he glared up at you, mad at the feeling of his orgasm dying down.

„You couldnt even fuck yourself until you came on this dick before your legs gave out, its pathetic“ he let out a small whine as he looked away to the side, seemingly emberassed by your statement.

He was about to talk back when you started to move again, tight hold on his erection never loosening. The headboard of the bed hit the wall with your fast movements, pounding inside of his tight ass with fevor.

Mahito felt your thumb touch his leaking tip, rubbing the precum over his sensitive head.

„Can I cum now-ngh..“ he blinked away his tears when your tight grip on him still didnt falter. His head thrashed around as yet another orgasm was denied from him. His cock was now painfully throbbing and your pace only fastened, dragging along his walls and hitting his prostate in the most pleasuring way possible.

„Okay okay... god youre so impatient.“ you rolled your eyes and hesitantly let go of his erection, building him up to another fast approaching high.

It only took him a few more thrusts to feel the familiar feeling slowly build up again.

Your mouth lowered to play with his nipples, wich pushed him over the edge when he felt the sensation of your tongue over his sensitive buds.

He came with multiple high pitched moans of your name, body trembling in bliss as you continued to fuck him through his high.

„Thank you Mommy- I need more of you-!!“ he was still craving for your attention-, the intense feeling of your harsh thrusts.

Tears were building in his eyes, rolling down his flushed cheeks.

Who were you to deny your little Servant?

[austajunk]

(Heyo, I hope you don't mind me sharing my thoughts in your inbox. I just think you're cool and have good opinions, so here I am.)

OK, so I love Komahinanami as an OT3. As friends, or romantically, or whatever. I just love them a lot.

What I reeeeally don't like about it, though, is (some of) the fans' portrayal of it. For some people, it's never Komahinanami as a three-way relationship, with them all caring for and loving each other equally.

It's either Komahina with Chiaki just "added on", or it's Hinanami with Nagito just "added on", or it's Komahina + Hinanami with no interaction between Nagito and Chiaki at all.

(Like... where's the Komanami love?)

And if they do interact, then it's almost always negative. Chiaki's made out to be the girl who Nagito hates more than anything else, the girl who gets in the way of Komahina. And Nagito's made out to be this jealous, possessive asshole who is disgusted by Chiaki and only cares about Hajime. Which is just 1) not true to the characters at all, and 2) really confusing to me, because I don't know where it comes from other than just projection.

People do realise that Nagito never showed one single hint of either hatred towards Chiaki or posessiveness towards Hajime, right? I don't know where this whole "Nagito hates Chiaki, is jealous of her, and wanted to kill her for the sake of Hajime" thing comes from. Maybe it's just some fans' projection, but... it's just not canon, and it's not part of Nagito's character at all.

And Hajime isn't the only person who Nagito is capable of caring about or developing a positive relationship with. Let him have friends and people he cares about other than Hajime, even if you only ship Komahina.

Bottom line: I love Nagito, Chiaki and Hajime, I love fan works where they interact, and I love it when they're actually in character, and not made totally OOC to satisfy fans' bad character interpretations and hatred of female characters.

(Sorry again about the inbox rant - just wanted to share my thoughts!)

Hooo boi. Hoooo boi. Oh anon, you just tackled one of my biggest pet peeves of this fandom right to its core. Also thanks for saying I’m cool. :3

Firstly, the denial of the Komanami side of KomaHinaNami, but honestly… that I could deal with. This is why I focus on a lot of the KomaNami side of things on my blog but I don’t mind so much the “Hajime has two hands” side of this ship because usually from what I’ve seen, people have Chiaki be Nagito’s best friend or wing lady with Hajime and he appreciates and adores her and confides in her about Hajime and shares Hajime with her and all three are happy. Like.. in a way, that’s still ultra pippity poppity cute!

But yeah, the KomaHina fans who like to portray Chiaki as just the girl who is in the way of their relationship, as if Nagito hates or is jealous of Chiaki… no, just no. It has never once been like that! Before he really got to know Hajime, Chiaki was the only person who accepted and tried to understand Nagito. She was kind to him and he seemed to appreciate her in turn, insisting that her being their class rep made her their biggest light of Hope. He even pleads with her not to take on Junko, that he knew they were no chance against them but believes in Chiaki anyways and is devastated to the point of breaking down and sobbing at her death. Of course, he twists things and beseeches Chiaki’s name, insisting that she can lift them up with her death… but only because he’s coping. In his own world in the Neo World Program, she is missing because the memory of her (and Hajime) hurt him so much that he had to block it out. His desire to see her along with the rest of the class brings her back to them as an AI that leads them all back to the right path.

As for the idea that Nagito is jealous of Chiaki… I think they get that from one scene in DR2 where Chiaki says she’s gonna go find Fuyuhiko in Chapter 2 to question him. She leaves and Hajime is irked about being left alone with Nagito, to which Nagito is like “Oh I’m sorry! You wanted her to stay?!” Honestly… people seem to ignore that before Chiaki left, Nagito expressed concern about her questioning Fuyuhiko and told her to not let him “get rough” with her. So… Nagito clearly cares. Out of everyone (including Hajime) in the main storyline, Nagito openly praises Chiaki and her talents the most. He will also politely oblige her and be quiet when she asks while he does not for anyone else. Also the thing is… Nagito is pretty protective of Chiaki. In Chapter 4, when Chiaki gets overwhelmed by Nagito being clingy, she runs away from him only for him to appear behind her five minutes later and urging her to remember that she could get hurt on her own and that she shouldn’t have run off.

More to the point, let’s pretend Chiaki and Nagito were like… rivals for Hajime’s affection like Chisa and Juzo were. That they directly mirror them (they don’t as much as we think). Even Juzo and Chisa loved and appreciated each other platonically. They were incredibly important to each other in this show while being in love with the same person. In the mangas furthermore, we have these scenes (So tell me, tell me to my face that Chiaki is the girl that Nagito somehow hates, that he never cared for her beyond a romantic rival. Just tell me. And yes yes I know the mangas are secondary canon, but when like two or three of them show all these moments of Chiaki and Nagito supporting each other, come the fuck on. I stand by that it enriches our current canon.):

[pridewhatpride]

do you have any gx rivalshipping hcs!! im super curious on your take of them :]

When I saw this ask my immediate reaction was thinking: "Yes, I have an excuse to talk about gx rivalshipping, YES."

So yeah. I love this ship a lot, like a whole damn lot and it's a little hard to explain why, especially when gx has so many open possibilities for romances involving Judai. By which I mean two, really, and Manjoume is not one of them (sadly for me). I am referring to Yubel and Johan, by the way, I refuse to acknowledge Asuka as a love interest.

I'll start off with a bit of fluff headcanons?

Manjoume thinks Winged Kuriboh is really cute and that its friendly and fluffy appearance screams Judai, in a way. But he will never admit it because of what that might imply for him and the Ojamas.

Manjoume is fueled by caffeine and monster, he only really starts to recognise how nice it can be to have a meal because of how much Judai enjoys his food. He tries to sit at the table with him with dumb excuses.

Judai feels a bit guilty for how his actions impacted Manjoume's life, but Manjoume generally tells him that it's fine, it's better this way, that he's never this happy, that the only reason why Judai should maybe feel bad about it is because of his tendency to get overly invested in other people's problems and getting hurt in the process. Judai responds with bear hugs.

Manjoume brags about Judai a lot, actually. "Oh you think that's cool? One time Judai managed to do a backflip, you loser." "Slifer reds suck, but they do have redeeming qualities, by which I mean one of them is actually good."

Judai likes to indulge himself in the thought that he's Manjoume's most trusted, that he's the only one who could ever be allowed to have that many incriminating pictures of him. Because Judai just loves taking candid pictures of Manjoume. He thinks he looks and and cool in every situation, so yeah. A part of him does it because he has an inexplicable fear of forgetting people and the way they look, but he just can't say why that is.

They hang out in silence a lot, but once they start talking they just never stop. You'll find them on the beach at 3 am with a smiling Manjoume listening to Judai go on about how crazy it is that you can fry food in so many different ways and how he once caught a butterfly as a kid and named it Kujaku.

They share their music a lot, so Manjoume's tastes switch from just emo to fast paced rap and the weirdly happy sounding songs about very morbid things Judai listens to (plus emo). Judai starts to enjoy a bit of angry screaming into microphones thanks to Jun. Do they sing along like idiots as they share earphones? Yes. Is Manjoume mesmerised by Judai's singing voice? Also yes.

Judai loves hiking and sometimes invites Manjoume, but because he's a lot weaker and has less stamina, they take it slow. Manjoume keeps cursing himself for being slow and dead weight, but Judai is just happy to have a companion. Admittedly, going slower makes the walks better as he has the time to enjoy the scenery properly. He never teases Jun about his lack of physical training.

Now... I wanted to talk about my general view on the ship, plus headcanons I guess, but this is going to be EVEN LONGER (you are getting more than you asked for, your fault for enabling me, really). For the sake of the sanity of mobile users, I'm adding a cut so nobody has to unwillingly scroll through endless text.

On to the the juice, then. My thoughts on the ship. Manjoume and Judai are, of course, the rivals of the series and, if my thoughts on rivalry weren't clear enough, I am one of those people. It's just really romantic to me. What is very interesting about the two of them specifically is that they are polar opposites in the way the reason why they play, throughout the whole series. Hell, their views end up getting reversed completely: Manjoume goes from "if I don't win I'm gonna have a breakdown breakdown" to "losing is ok, as long as I enjoy the game and am true to myself", while Judai does the 180 from "I really just love playing cards with my friends, who cares about the outcome, it's fun" to "I have card game related trauma, nobody speak to me, games are only an excuse to assert a sort of power scale and honestly fuck that".

Manjoume is sort of the only person in the 'friend group' (he's never actually part of it, sadly, literally only Judai and Fubuki like him) to not idolise Judai, not explicitly. He clearly has an admiration for Judai from the beginning, but he is adamant on expressing it as hatred towards for being better than him. A part of me feels that a lot of his superior act is meant to try and fool himself and Jaden into thinking that he's a worthy rival, because I know for a fact that Manjoume doesn't believe that. He wants it to be true, yes.

What I am trying to get at is that Judai is probably a little confused by the fact that Manjoume doesn't drool all over him like the rest of the school does, but it soon becomes a crutch. Judai is under a lot of pressure because he is the hero who will save everyone and people like to remind him of how much they count on him. Manjoume is in it for Judai. He wants to be acknowledged by him, he wants his recognition and his attention, but he never asks for help or expects Judai to fix his problems for him. Judai is probably thankful for that.

Manjoume is also really scared of being left behind and cast aside as soon as he stops being useful and that's exactly what the writers do to him!!! hooray!, but Judai keeps insisting that he's not a bad guy, that he's fun to be around, that he's competent. Manjoume doesn't really believe all that that much, but Jaden keeps playing him despite his repeated losses and to Jun that's the equivalent of someone kissing his tears away. Manjoume only learns to accept his losses and shortcomings because Judai did it for him first.

So basically Manjoume is the only one who fully sees Judai as a person, while Judai is the only one who is really willing to look past his pretentious facade. I fully believe that Judai was relieved to learn that Manjoume was not just a perfect boy with perfect manners, by the way. They both just love to learn about every imperfection that the other has and silently thinking that they just add to the beauty of the other's character. Will they tease eachother about it? Fuck yes. Do they feel awful when the other tries to fix something about themselves because they pointed it out? Also fuck yes.

They are in a dumb competition against themselves to be better in order to earn the right to be friends with eachother, but because they are fucking dumb they never actually communicate (until they do), so for a long time it's endless pining that is definitely not gay because admittedly Judai just doesn't think that dating is a thing, while Manjoume is straight™, really straight. He has never liked a boy in his life, he's so very fucking straight, I swear.

So Manjoume is a bisexual disaster (and in my headcanon he prefers boys, actually, the Asuka incident is the biggest example of denial™ ever. He prefers Fubuki, fight me over this). The problem is that he never really considered he might be crushing on Judai, but at the same time admitting to maybe liking boys too means that there was more to wanting to stay at DA, to hanging out with Judai's crew despite their mutual dislike, to his continuous playful headlocks and ear pulling. To add onto that, there is probably a certain amount of guilt over having betrayed that bond with Judai by trying to throw away his cards and everything. Judai, on the other hand... is confused at how bothered he is by the public declarations of love, because Manjoume is his rival and rivals are supposed to focus on eachother, not on some girl, no matter how good said girl is at card games.

So maybe they are a bit gay for eachother. And maybe they just want excuses to be together as much as possible. And it's really just the vibe of highschool romance between two people who don't want to admit to caring for one another on a deeper level, but are also weirdly possessive of eachother for no apparent reason. And I think I'll stop here with my gay retelling, but really if you look at the two of them you do see that they do a lot for eachother's characters. It's kind of beautiful, really. They are the two socially inept characters who find comfort in someone being just like them and understanding them as they change and grow up.

I have a lot to say about how that changes once the transfer students come in, but I think I've bored everyone for long enough- as in nobody will read this lol. That's ok. I thank you again for the ask and for allowing me to gush about this ship that is so close to my heart. If anyone ever wants to talk about them, just. Do. Break into my house at night and I still won't mind, I just want to talk about them.

[balmasedas]

desperado / druglord!javier peña au. 

chapter one.

summary: reader is a dea agent. violence has arisen in the streets of colombia and she's determined to bring javier peña to justice. things take an abrupt turn when, instead of her finding him, he finds her and realizes they got much more interest in each other than just drug-related topics. 

warnings: only +18. overall, this is smut so smutty. canon violence. detailed warnings in every chapter. spanish traductions are in the notes, though for the sake of non-spanish speakers, spanish dialogues will be minimal and not relevant to the plot.

word count: 2.5k.

You throw your sweater in the backseat of your car before exiting it. In the morning, you had dug through your boxed-up winter clothes after shivering in your shirt-sleeves as soon as you got out of your department. Now, the temperature has risen to the seventies and you give yourself a clap in the back for deciding to wear something decent underneath. Spring in Colombia is a nightmare.

The crime scene is packed with local police and DEA agents. There are no civilian spectators this time, they know better than sticking their noses in the Medellin's cartel businesses.

Upon your arrival, you don’t need to identify yourself to the uniformed men guarding the perimeter. They know you well by then. You are the only female in the team that has to deal with these kinds of situations —gruesome, gut-churning, dirty shit. Not a very much "lady-like" job, some would express. For that, you have earned yourself the title of a gritty woman. Maybe because you were gritty, maybe because you were a woman.

Sometimes, though, you find yourself wondering why you turned down some run-of-the-mill desk job back in Virginia. It would’ve been a dull routine, for sure — hideous, even; but gossiping about some flash romance between two co-workers is less taxing than having to witness five rotting corpses at first daylight. 

"Jesus Christ," you lift your sunglasses to your head. Your partner, esteemed, weary agent Steve Murphy, turns around at the sound of your voice. 

“You’re up early.” he asserts, with a raised eyebrow. 

You purse your lips. “Had a bad night. Ran out of whisky at one am.” 

Not even Hugo, or Hughie for his gringo friends, could help you. You forgot that his daughter would be celebrating her birthday and his all-night store would be closed until the next morning. Normally, you would own an arsenal of alcohol, but it has been an abnormal week and a hell of a night —starting with the spiral of violence that has arisen in the streets of Medellin.

"Well, look at the bright side: your stomach is empty," Murphy mumbles.

Looking at the bodies in front of you, you can’t agree more: their hands are tied-up to the oxidated wire behind them, hanging by their arms. They are barefoot and scantily clad. There is a visible gunshot wound in all of their front heads, some flies are already hovering around the open flesh. A quick death to eternal torture, you suppose.

"When did you get the call?" you inquire.

He fiddles with his wristwatch. "About two hours ago." you only hum in response, keeping your eyes in front of you and paying no mind to Steve who only grows impatient at your silence. "You think this was Peña's job?" he adds.

You nod in denial. "If it was, it doesn't make sense." Not one bit. "Peña works underground, quiet, like a sneaky rat. I'd even say they're more well-behaved than most cartels. So why do this?"

Why such a declaration of violence? Why draw even more attention from the authorities? 

"Maybe he decided to toughen his punishments?” You scoff at his remark.

“He can do that without half the city knowing it. A ditch is much more subtle than a monument to death blocks from the US embassy.” 

Murphy smirks. “Seems that you have given it a thought before, Sarchie.” you narrow your eyes. He knows you hate that nickname. Your tendencies to boss him around had brought you consequences: the unofficial title of a Sargeant. Sarchie, shortened and friendly.

“Killing someone? Yes, you. Multiple times a day.” you put your sunglasses back on and walk away. The forensic police won’t be there until the next half hour, at least, and you are too disquiet to wait around. Plus, your stomach is growling, but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “We’re gonna need their names, I’ll see what I can find. You have a little chat with the coroner and see if they can speed up the autopsy. The sooner the better, ok?” you spot the smirk on his face. You know what he’s thinking. You shut your car's door and point a finger at him through the window. A clear warning sign in your eyes. “Shut the fuck up and do it.”

(,,,)

Happy hour. You give up on the investigation and stop off at ‘Chiquita’, a popular local bar near your place. The prices are cheap, the drinks aren’t that good but they do the job. The place is crowded — hot couples with wet, glowing skin grinding against each other. Happy or horny or both. You take a mental note to have some fun later. 

As you sip at your bourbon and crack your peanuts, you let yourself dwell on what you found out about your case. You finally got the names of your five guys. For that, much research wasn’t needed: All of them had their IDs in their pockets and they were exactly who you feared they were: no ones. No ties to any big names, no official involvement in any cartel — at the most, a few minor possession charges. As for weeks, your few clues have led to nowhere and the enigma surrounding the Medellin cartel seems to worsen with every minute that passes by.

You hate mysteries. Colombia’s full of them. 

You take your second bourbon in one smooth shot and ask for another. You grab a colombian peso from your wallet and slide it across the wood. Your eyes stop at the picture of your parents that you carry around. It’s tiny and worn, just like your relationship with them. They haven’t heard from you in weeks, a fair deal, if anyone asked. They don’t have to deal with their fucked up daughter and you can focus on your work filled with dead ends and a ghost that haunts you while you’re awake: Javier Peña.

“¹Qué tomas, preciosa?” a velvety voice caresses your ears. A pleasant smile breaks quietly over your lips. Just in time.

You turn your head to the side. The stranger, with chocolate-skin and inviting eyes, is waiting for an answer. You tap your fingers against the glass.

"Bourbon," you say. "²Pero no me vendría mal un trago más." he grins and holds up two fingers to the barman. He sits at the empty seat beside you, he’s exuberating confidence. He’s offered you the bait and you'd taken it.

"³Algo más que se te ofrezca?"

You look him in the eyes. You know how the story goes from there. It isn’t any different than the one from last night, or the night before. As an apex predator, he's out for something to satisfy his hunger. He won't go home without reaching his goal and you're desperate enough to let him.

"⁴Sí. Hay algo más que puedes hacer por mi."

(,,,)

The fucking cat on the window has been staring straight into your eyes for the last fifteen minutes. Matias, the guy you've met hours before, is too focused on you to notice the awkward presence of the animal, so you don't bother shooing it away. 

He's enjoying himself, pounding into you in a symphony of lust bites and moans. But the sound of skin on skin doesn't match the intensity of your passion for this encounter.

It's not that his performance was terrible, it was just... soft. So soft, too soft. From the sweet nothings, he gasps on your ear to the gentleness of his grip on your hip. 

You aren't a sweet girl. If you were sweet, you wouldn't have traveled all the way down to Colombia to participate in the war on drugs. If you were fond of delicateness, you would've stayed inside and touched yourself to a Cristina Peri Rossi novel instead of searching for strangers at bars.

You don't like to believe you are a special case. On the contrary, you assume your attitude is the rule and not the exception. Not a hell of a woman, but a woman made of hell – waking up already worried about the hours ahead of you. How could you not? Your life is as wide and empty as the sky. Unstable, unpredictable. Anything can happen. A good meaningless fuck is the only moment you allow yourself to feel something — someone. By then, the detachment that gets you through the day disappears and raw feral emotion takes its place. 

You are addicted. It's like a drug, but worse. Drugs don't have feelings, people do.

You’d grabbed Matias' hand and wrapped it around your neck a few times but your request had been ignored; you’d even pushed his ass against your body so you could get closer to a feral touch, but he had insisted on something more caring and delicate. 

And delicacy just won't do. 

So, after a few tries, you give up. You lay still, under his heating body, dead eyes directed at your window. No emotion whatsoever, no release. Like a numb, stiff sex doll, rooting for his satisfaction. Forgotten until next time.

“⁵Donde?” he blurts in your ear. You evaluate your options quickly. 

“⁶Adentro.” Any other place would demandsñ more attention. By then, he would be aware of your passivity and asking too many questions. You don't answer questions, you make them.

His body tenses and trembles. You feel heat dripping between your legs but it doesn't come from you. He leaves a few small pecks on your neck — thankfully, the last ones for the night. Matias breathes over you for a few seconds before he gets off. You stare at the roof in silence, and when he asks if you finished, you simply nod.

You can't grasp what he says under his breath after you ask him, as nice as possible, to leave. What he does or doesn't vocalize, it doesn't matter. You won't be repeating with him. You never fucked the same person twice. 

Once you hear the front door shut, still resting on your bare skin, you lit a cigarette. The room is void of artificial light, and the cat is still in the same place, with his silhouette contoured by the gleam of the moon.

"Sneaky bastard." you chuckle, then get up from the bed and slowly approach it.

You stop at the wooded frame of the window, maintaining your distance. Not too close to scare him or him to scare you. He isn't a friendly guy. He isn't even yours — just a grumpy cat that stops by your department too often demanding some food. You tried to get him to come inside before, but all you had won from your offers were a couple of scratches. Nonetheless, the cat has seen more of you than many people have. So, even though you renegade from him, you found yourself inevitably attached. He's the closest thing to a family, after Murphy, of course. But Murphy hasn't seen you on your worst, yet.

"Hope you see the same shit I see." you grimace and shake your head. "Not like that, I mean... I should choose better who to fuck with. And they should choose better too." the cat remains silent –obviously– and you keep talking. "You could make yourself useful and spook them away before I have to." he meows, you roll your eyes and decide to leave him alone. "Then again, I could do it myself if I told them I hold long conversations with the stray cat that lives in my window."

You choose to take a bath and call it a night. You glide through the living room, though before you can reach the bathroom something stops you. There's a noise outside, some glass breaking down on the streets. You can ignore it, conflict isn't a foreign subject in Colombia, especially at late hours. But then it repeats itself a second time, and the third bugs you too much for you not to grab your night robe and take a look at it from your window.

The only light pole is out of order; there's not a soul in sight; music can be heard from afar. You see nothing out of place until you do.

Your car is parked across the street. All four windows have been smashed, the tires are flat. You barely waste time cursing before you flee out of your place. You thought the night couldn’t get worse but the world has a disturbing obsession with testing your patience. 

Once you take a step outside and approach your damaged car, you’re not sure where your chills are coming from. Perhaps, because of the unfriendly weather or maybe because you’re suddenly aware of how idiotic was your decision to go outside. 

Everything inside your vehicle is left untouched. There weren't objects of value anyways. You find no logical reason for someone wanting to wreck a car just because —yours, of them all.

Big red warning signs color your mind. Your eyes scan your surroundings with speed. It's a dark, lonely dessert. You're now sure that what happened isn't some random event. The victim could've been to another person, but you weren't just another person.

"⁷Discúlpeme, señorita." a voice throws yourself far from the source. You reach for your gun just to find nothing there. Damn you. "⁸Está bien?" you look at the man. An old man that, at first glance, doesn't represent a threat. His voice is gentle, his voice is tinted with a caring voice. You lower your defenses, just a bit, not enough to stay around.

"⁹Sí." you mutter.

Slowly, you walk back to your apartment. Old man glues his eyes to your form and you don't take your own off from his'. Before reaching the sidewalk, you trip with something. Your back collides against a car and you're ready to apologize when the owner exits it there’s not a sign of rage in his face. On the contrary, his stare is blank and his mouth doesn’t even twitch.

Bad news.

You intend to run, but another guy blocks your passage and two more appear at each side of you. You turn over to ask the old man for help, but he’s gone along with your last piece of hope. Can’t blame him, you would’ve escaped too if you had the chance. However, you can’t and the smartest thing to do is acknowledge it and work from it. 

You stay still thinking it will persuade them to opt for gentle treatment. 

How naive of you. 

A set of fingers dig into your arms, another one grabs you by the neck and lowers your head as they drag you into their car. Guarded by two of them who sit at your sides, a dark cloth bag is placed over your head and your wrists are restricted with a zip tie. 

All you have left now is your hearing, you pick up a few things: the engine roaring, the tires burning on the asphalt as you speed off, some spanish words thrown in the air. Nothing substantial, nothing of use.

You sit in silence and wait for the worst.

[neoheros]

how would haikyuu boys handle getting shipped with a friend on tiktok? feat. kuroo tetsuro

kuroo tetsuro has a crippling tiktok addiction and he’s in denial about it but everyone around him knows because all he does in his free time is get on that app

that’s canon i’m not arguing with anyone about this

he’s the kind of guy to fall asleep from scrolling through his fyp and the moment he wakes up he looks for his phone under his pillow to watch more lmaooo

so anyways

you share classes with him and he’s not really the kind of guy to have crushes especially on people he’s not close with

but then one day he’s on his fyp and he stumbles on one of your videos

and he’s just like ?? woah

he recognizes you obvi, he’s not one to talk to people out of his friend group but he’s not completely ignorant to everyone else

he immediately sees that you have indeed quite the following and have almost majority of your posts going viral

so yea you can say he’d notice you more in class now

at first it was subtle, looking at you more when he’s spacing out or paying close attention to you when you’re reciting

he doesn’t even notice how he includes you more in his thought process until the day kenma pointed it out to him how he’s been a bit more distracted lately

he brushed it off thinking it wasn’t really anything serious

but then boy Oh boy !!!

he started noticing the fact that you’ve got a really nice room in your vids and your fave led lights are the red ones since you almost always use them

he’s also really into the fact that you upload more on comedic videos than dancing ones

but HONEY when you posted your take on the dance trend of savage by megan thee stallion ,,, he was GONEEEE !!!

he sent that video to kenma like five times in a row with the caption “aha brb gonna LIVE for this woman 😗✌️”

kenma be like: simp city population - u

at this point he just accepts it, like flat out he took it within himself to UNDERSTAND how much he’s crushing on you and kenma asks him if he’s gonna do anything about it and he’s like ????

like he gets how awesome he is and stuff cause duh captain of the volleyball team and most probably the most beautiful man on campus but you’re also really good in class and very attractive

not to mention that you’ve never even looked his way before

he was hurt, man !!

only he could feel as rejected as someone who actually did get rejected

nevertheless, he got over that and just woke up one day telling himself that he was gonna shoot his shot anyway !!

so one day in class, right after the lunch bell rang, he took a deep breath and rummaged his insides for every drip of confidence he could muster

he walked to your seat and you were kinda surprised because this boy right here has never once talked to you before

his opening line was “can i sit here?”

you were still really confused but then he said something about wanting to be friends and your heart was just really warm cause !!!! that’s so NICE !!

and he mentioned how he knew you from tiktok since you practically lived on his fyp

you were really embarrassed and he got to see in action how your ears turn really red when you get shy

kuroo, internally: “that’s so FUCKEN CUTE !!!!!”

he had to reassure you that it was indeed really cool that you made bomb ass tiktoks

you were so grateful cause like one minute you were having a terrible day because of your stupid teacher then bam this 6’2 beauty of a man came swooping in telling you you were terrific

you two became friends after that and it made you really happy to have someone as cool as kuroo as your best friend

kuroo likes to sit with you at lunch except when you’re with other people then he gets a bit dejected so he’s just “well damn maybe tomorrow then”

it’s all good though cause he has invited you to numerous of his practices and that’s when you SEE how amazing this man is at volleyball

one day you’re like “hey wanna do a tiktok with me?”

and he’s like “the one where you kiss me?”

you, flushed: DIPSHIT WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT !!!!1!1!1!!

you guys do the one where you dance to supalonely by benee

it went OFF !!! 700k likes and a solid ass 2.7M views because apparently the viewers really like it when kuroo dances next to you in his varsity uniform and has sweat dripping on his forehead

your comments for the next two weeks are just like “bro post another one with kuroo please PLEASE”

kuroo: guess people just like me more :)

you: leave my mentions <3

sometimes you’d get people replying to your videos with “you and kuroo look really good together”

you see them but you most likely ignore it because even if you did know how much you liked kuroo, you didn’t wanna jeopardize the friendship, yk?

anyhow due to popular demand, you include him in your videos again and every time you do they always go viral !!!

it’s very cute especially when you do the ones where you snapchat him song lyrics and he answers even if he does know it’s a trend

“can they please just get together already, we all know they’re pining but they’re too coward to say it !!”

you: ok u know what user9728182829 since u’r so good at this why don’t u be the one to make tiktoks at a volleyball court and dodge all those stray balls 😤

you were so fed up with it that you actually tell kuroo about the entirety of tiktok shipping the two of you together

he was worried that you were upset because people liked you and him dating that he thought maybe you just weren’t into him

BUT THEN !!!

because of the corona virus all the schools shut down and people were forced to stay in their houses for quarantine

it was sad that everything got cancelled and you weren’t allowed to see your friends anymore

but that’s ok cause kuroo insisted to facetime everyday

you: why can’t we just text

kuroo: because what if you forget what i look like 🥺

you: hey i’m not that blessed ❤️

it was like the quarantine never happened since you still saw and talked to him everyday

sometimes he’d show up at your place but refuse to come inside cause social distancing

this mfer threw rocks on your glass window just to get your attention once

kuroo: i got you those edible cookie dough in pints !!

you: omfg 🥺👉👈

then he chucks it at you because he ain’t boutta break the law to get you food 😤

it’s ok though you have really good reflexes and it only hit your elbow the first 2 times !!

you got it all on camera and posted it on tiktok and everyone in the comments were LIVID at the fact that you captioned it with “best friends b like”

“i just know that kuroo is punching the air right now.”

“imagine risking the corona and still being friend zoned.”

“when you realize kuroo is actually the president of simp city.”

other times he’d snap you at 3 in the morning asking if you want anything from starbucks

no one:

your snapchat dms at 3:28 am: you really went to bed you SN A KE !!

and when you wake up the next morning you find out that this guy is still awake and that he’s been chilling in the starbucks parking lot all morning !!!

that’s ok though because other than the fact that his sleep schedule is completely wrecked he still got you your venti strawberry acai refresher

you: thank you sm 🥺 what do i owe you

kuroo: a kiss on the cheek

you: you can have the drink back ❤️

that’s when the new tiktok trend started and people were posting the hottest guys on campus or revealing their crushes since 1st grade

you, feeling brave because school is cancelled: aight bet 😎

you do a tiktok hopping on the trend and you captioned it with “now that we aren’t coming back to school here are the boys from campus that i’d date for real”

you stall for the first 30 second by vibing to the music and when the beat drop !!

you showed a picture of kuroo and you put in the text “kinda missing him too”

you were extremely regretting this but numerous people already saw it and the comments went on and on about how unsurprising this was

press f ma’am

so one afternoon while kuroo was scrolling through his tiktok, he was surprised by the amount of notifications he was getting

cause he doesn’t even post videos ??

he’s only there to watch funny stuff and leave insulting comments on your posts cause he’s a good friend

he checks and they’re all just tags of him in this one video and he was kinda worried cause what if it was a hate post ??

but then he saw that it was yours and he’s less nervous !!!

kuroo, texting you: if you diss me in this one i’m posting the screenshot of you falling asleep on facetime

so he watches it and ??????????????

bro he went 🥺

before he messages you he went straight for the comments and !!!!!

“who knew it was kuroo before watching the whole video?”

“don’t be shy put some more photos of him !!”

“if kuroo duets this i’m gonna make sure to never fall in love unless its like this.”

“y’all he did it boys!! he graduated from the best friend zone!!”

he’s still really surprised by this and he really hopes you’re not kidding cause bro you??? like him????

thanks to that comment he saw, he decides to duet your video by using the same sound and doing the same dance with the same caption “now that we aren’t coming back to school here are the ones from campus that i’d date for real”

and they’re all just pictures of you 🥺

it blows up but before you see it on your fyp he’s already asking to facetime and when you answer you swear he’s just got the biggest smile in the world i’m :(

kuroo: lol remember when you publicly told majority of the internet how much you liked me

you: lol remember when you weren’t talking ❤️

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

WTWT: The Sequel | Part 3/5 [Reggie Peters]

pairings: reggie peters x fem!reader

words: 4.6K words

warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: hey babes it’s drea today :))) send in all your memes and remember to like, comment, and reblog! (especially reblog because sometimes we get tag banned :/// love you all and thank you for reading!)

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T HAVE A LABEL?!" Rose exclaimed loudly causing you to cover her mouth with your hand and Ray to try and stifle a chuckle.

Your cheeks were red from embarrassment as you tried to explain yourself. "I mean that Reggie and I are taking things slow. No labels, no commitment. It's the perfect compromise."

Rose raised her hands to her temples, massaging them lightly. "So you're telling me," she began in a low voice. "That you and Reggie have confessed you still love each other, kiss, and slept in the same bed all in one week and still refuse to put a label on your relationship?"

You nodded. "See? You get it now!" you said cheerfully.

Rose shot you a glare. "Ray, do you happen to have your Rosary on you?"

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Is now really a good time to start praying?" he asked.

"No, but I plan on strangling the poor girl until she sees God so maybe she can think straight-" As soon as Rose stood up, you shrieked, staggering back until Ray pulled Rose back.

"Okay, none of that," Ray said, pulling Rose back down onto her chair. "No one is attacking anybody, you hear me? Even though I'm equally frustrated with (Y/N) and Reggie's snail pace to get back together, it's better than nothing."

You gave Rose a pointed look, making her mouth an un-child friendly sentence to you.

"Rose?" Ray said, giving his girlfriend a shove.

The girl sighed. "Fine, better than nothing," she repeated in a dull voice.

"Thank you," you said gratefully. You glanced down at your watch. "Ah, I have to go now. I promised Reggie I'd meet up with him for lunch." Rose wiggled her eyebrows teasingly but you stopped her. "No labels" you reminded her, making her sulk in her chair.

"No labels," she sighed dramatically.

Unbeknownst to you, once you left the vicinity, Bobby, Luke, and Alex entered the studio, under Rose's instructions of course. They had a plan. They always had a plan.

"So what did she say?" Alex asked.

"Yeah does my daughter have a boyfriend or what?"

"She said no labels," Ray answered for Rose and the boys yelled in protest.

Typical.

"But guys!" she exclaimed. "I have a plan. We are going to convince them to get married."

"Not that I don't love the idea," Bobby started. "But how in the flippity flying fuck are we supposed to do that?"

Rose rolled her eyes, leaning against Ray, who had an equally mischievous grin on his face. "We're going to lie and say we're getting married," she explained simply, stealing Bobby's water bottle and taking a sip.

Bobby glared at her, snatching the bottle back. "Do you really think they're going to fall for that?" he asked. "I mean, this is Reggie and (Y/N) we're talking about. Sure, Reggie might be able to be fooled, he adores Ray and will listen to anything he says. But (Y/N)? She's a bit too clever for that."

"Mama didn't raise no fool," Luke added while raising his eyebrows.

"I think this is big enough to fool her," Ray said, pulling out a large diamond ring from his pocket. "It was my mother's before she passed, family heirloom on my father's side." he explained and the boys' eyes went wide at the sight of the very large rock.

"I could pay my tuition with that," Rose sighed sadly. "But I guess using it as an accessory will have to do especially if it manages to get those two who are in denial together forever."

"So how do you want us to play this?" Alex asked, finally speaking up and voicing his support for the plan.

Rose wrapped an arm around Ray, pulling him close. "I will tell (N/N) that Ray proposed and ask her to be my maid of honor," she began. "Knowing her, she'll probably sweep all the planning off our plates and take it on hers. That's when Ray comes in to talk about wedding stuff with the boys. Your job is to butter Reggie up, make him realize how amazing married life would be and let him come to the conclusion himself that he needs to ask (Y/N) to marry him and while she is all caught up in the romance and fantasy of it all she has to say yes,"

Alex let out a low whistle. "That's impressive, Rose," he complimented. "If this actually works, I owe you one."

"You can just save me a dance at the wedding," she shrugged her shoulders. "Hope you're as good of a dancer as you were back in high school."

Alex's face flushed as he ducked his head. Luke smiled, "Okay, so all we need to do is get them and break the news. But where are they, anyway?"

"(Y/N) never said where she was going," Rose pouted. "I need to put a GPS on that girl. She never answers my damn calls."

"Reggie told me he was going to that diner down by the beach before he headed out. I bet you that's where they're going for lunch." Ray noted.

"You're lucky that cowboy loves you," Rose chuckled, pressing a kiss to Ray's cheek.

"And I'm lucky you love me," he said back with a dazed look on his face.

Bobby cringed at the two. "At this point, why lie to them? Just get married already," he whined.

—

You walked down the street, hand in hand with Reggie. You had just finished lunch, and insisted on walking by the beach to relax a bit. He smiled to himself, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What's with that look on your face, Flicka?" you asked curiously.

Reggie raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "You have...that smile on your face," you began to explain.

"And how is my smile now any different from the others?" he pressed, genuinely interested in what you had to say.

Humming, you tilted your head in thought. "I don't know how to explain," you sighed. "But you seem happier, and your eyes are a whole lot brighter than usual."

Reggie stopped walking, tugging you back with him. His hand found its place on your waist as he pulled you close. "Aw, you pay attention to my eyes?" he teased.

"Don't push it, Flicka," you warned.

Reggie only smiled, pressing a light kiss to your lips. "Wouldn't want to, Cookie."

"This is going to be a nightmare to tell my parents," you whined, laying a head on his shoulder, holding his arm in your hands.

"Oh come on, it can't be too hard," he shrugged.

"Yeah, you're not the only one who lied to your parents," you said with a nervous chuckle.

"Okay now I'm concerned, what did you tell them?"

"They thought I was still on speaking terms with you after everything. I don't know I just think it'll be weird if I say we're back together or whatever this is,"

"Then don't," Reggie shrugged. "Plus then I can have you all to myself,"

"Don't push it," you said again in a sing-song voice.

"(N/N)!" you heard a call from down the street.

"Oh God it's Rose, hide me," you begged, curling into Reggie.

Reggie laughed, "What's the matter with Rose?"

"She's gonna make me label our relationship and I don't wanna,"

Reggie rolled his eyes and instead called Rose over to you.

"Hey Rose what's up?" he asked while you looked at your friend with terrified eyes knowing she could probably kill you at any second.

"Okay, craziest thing happened," she exclaimed, sounding all giddy and happy, waving her hands around.

"Rose are you okay?" you asked.

"I don't know, am I?" she asked, showing off her left hand, adorned with a large diamond studded ring.

You squealed in excitement, taking Rose's hand and bringing it closer to your face. "No way!" you screamed. "Ray proposed? I've been waiting for this day!"

"It happened so quickly!" Rose told you energetically. "One thing led to another and now I'm engaged!"

You wrapped your arms around Rose, hugging her tightly. "I'm so excited for you two!" you exclaimed. "Oh, I'll be counting the days until your wedding day!"

Rose pulled away, her arms still wrapped around you. "Oh, but I have to ask you something," she said, her giddy voice turning serious. "Will you be my maid of honor?"

You screamed once again, practically throwing yourself on top of her. "YES YES YES!" you yelled in her ear. "I promise you, Rose, I will make sure your wedding goes off without a hitch. Just leave all the planning to me."

"(Y/N), I couldn't ask that of you," Rose said, her cheeks red.

You shook your head. "Trust me, I want to do this. Just let me know when you're free, and I'll drop everything, okay? Actually- do you want to plan this now, or-"

"That sounds phenomenal!" Rose cut you off. The girl turned to Reggie. "Maybe you can talk to Ray? I know he definitely needs a hand with his part of the planning."

Reggie beamed at the two of you. "Sure, I'd love to," he replied. "I'll give you guys a lift back to our apartment then head to Ray's if that's okay?"

You walked over to Reggie, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You know I love you, right, Flicka?" you told him giddily. "Like, a lot."

"I love you, too, Cookie," he smiled. "Like, a lot."

—

The drive to your apartment wasn't too long. You had been dragged out of the car by Rose, who was excited beyond belief to start planning her wedding. And although that was a momentous occasion, Reggie couldn't help but be confused. Rose was never the type to plan early, as she was spontaneous and much preferred to "go with the flow." But Reggie didn't think too much into it.

Reggie parked his car in the parking garage before making his way up to Ray's apartment. There, he found all the boys gathered together, celebrating Ray's engagement.

"Reggie!" Bobby exclaimed. "Come on, join us!"

Reggie raised an eyebrow in confusion as Bobby and Luke pulled him down to the couch. "Did you all know before me?" he asked curiously.

The boys shared a look before Alex took the wheel. "He proposed in the studio," he explained smoothly. "We all happened to be there." Reggie pouted before nodding, seemingly buying his lie.

"Oh, hey Reggie!" Ray exclaimed, entering the room. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Congrats Ray! This is amazing, I'm so happy for you and Rose," he smiled, giving Ray a big hug which he accepted wholeheartedly

Ray grinned. "Thank you! To be honest, I can't wait to get married," he confessed. "I just knew Rose was the one, and had to propose to her." Reggie listened intently as Ray continued. "Have you ever gotten that feeling when you're with the one you love, and everything just feels alright? Like you know that when you're with them, everything is going to be okay? Just that balance in your life?"

"No," Bobby answered lamely, making both Alex and Luke subtly smack him behind the head.

"You have a girlfriend man!"

"Not that I don't want it," he quickly corrected. "I, uh- Alex! Answer the question."

"Yeah, I feel that way with Willie," Alex grinned. "I think he's the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. Such a crazy realization to come to,"

Although it was 'for the plan' Alex wasn't lying. Willie was special.

"I've felt that way before," Reggie spoke up softly. His fingers played with his shoelaces as he sat cross legged on Ray's couch.

"Really?" Ray pressed slightly. "I'm guessing it wasn't that short stint you had with Leslie," he joked.

"No," he fought back. "Definitely not Leslie."

Alex leaned playfully against Reggie. "Then maybe it's a certain college student?" he suggested.

"One that, well, I don't know, can plan an entire Christmas party in one hour?" Luke added.

"And doesn't know how to get shit from the top shelf?" Bobby piped up. He ducked before Luke and Alex could hit him again.

Reggie smiled to himself, ignoring the antics of his best friends. "My Cookie," he whispered. "My sunshine, my light...My everything." The boys went silent, leaning close to listen to Reggie. "To be honest, I don't think I'd be here if it weren't for her. She's...absolutely perfect and she doesn't even know it. She just has this ability to make everything okay with just her smile." Reggie opened his eyes to see his friends staring back at him. His cheeks instantly turned red. "Oh, sorry, I was rambling again-"

"No, man," Ray cut him off. "You wanna talk about it? I mean no better time, planning can wait,"

"You guys sure?" he said. "I-I mean (Y/N) and I aren't even labeling anything yet, and I mean you just got engaged Ray, this is about you,"

Luke patted his back supportively. "Yeah, I'm sure (Y/N) and Rose have all that planning covered," he joked.

"Go for it, Reg." Ray confirmed and gave him a nod.

Reggie took a deep breath. "You said that when you're with Rose a-and Alex with Willie, you feel like everything is balanced? When I'm with (N/N), I don't feel any of that. I don't think of anything around me, I just feel complete. Like everything that surrounds us ceases to exist and it's just her and me." Reggie ran his fingers through his hair. "I just want to spend the rest of my life knowing that she'll be by my side every step of the way, you know? Kind of like how Luke is with her, I guess."

Luke shook his head. "The way I care for my daughter is definitely different from the way you care about her, Reggie," he told him. "And just letting you know, you have my blessing."

Reggie laughed. "I'm not proposing to her any time soon, Luke," he told him.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why not? I mean, with the way you talk about her really says it all."

"No way, she's not ready," Reggie sighed. "She doesn't even want to put a label on our relationship."

Luke shrugged his shoulders. "I know my daughter better than anyone else here," he began, making Reggie roll his eyes. "I know that look in her eyes when she looks at you. She's in love, Reggie. All you need to do is give her that extra push."

At that point, Reggie still seemed unsure. Luke gave his friend a supportive smile. "You two are made for each other," he told him. "No matter what happens, you two always find each other in the end. There's no denying that what you have is special, something that no one can compare to."

"Look Reggie, I know all about giving (Y/N) time, and that works up to a certain point, we're not saying go ask her to marry you now, but it wouldn't hurt to start thinking about it," Ray explained. "Plus I think the wedding fever might give you a hand. She might be asking you to marry her," Ray joked and all the boys laughed.

Reggie leaned back against the couch. "Maybe," he finally answered. "Maybe."

—

Something was off. Both you could tell from the thick tension between you two. You and Reggie sat by the lake you two went to when you were kids. Reggie sat stiffly with his legs crossed as you wordlessly picked at the grass.

Every Friday, the two of you promised you'd meet up at this special spot just to let loose and talk. Something was definitely wrong, but the both of you didn't say anything. You two just needed each other's company more than anything in the world.

But how can a person lean on someone who's already crumbling? Already hanging by a loose thread?

"So," you croaked, voice thick with tears. "It seems like the both of us are going down to shit, so who should go first?"

Reggie didn't laugh, which caught you off guard. "You," he murmured.

You took a deep breath, wiping the grass blades off your things.

"You know things were going kind of down hill with the house..." you started. "Well we reached the bottom of the hill," Reggie glanced over at you in confusion until you finally explained further. "My parents lost the house. They-they're going back to Canada."

"W-What?" Reggie's mouth ran dry. "Cookie I-I-,"

"No it's okay," you sniffed, wiping away your tears, trying to push down the sadness. "We all knew it was coming, you don't have to pretend like you're surprised."

"(Y/N) can I... is there anything I can do? A-And what's gonna happen?"

You shook your head firmly, biting down hard on your lip until it drew blood. You didn't want to say it. Saying it would make it real.

Reggie seemed to connect the dots, just from the look on your face. "No," he breathed. "You can't, (Y/N), I-"

"There's nothing that can be done, Reggie," you told him, voice cracking slightly. "I have to go with them. T-they need me."

Reggie took your hands in his. "But I need you, Cookie," he told you desperately. "Dammit, I've been silent all this time. Please, please let me be selfish just this once. Stay for me, Cookie, please stay for me."

Your hands slowly slid out of his. "I leave next month," you said in response. Your voice was dull, not like the lively pep it always had.

Reggie shook his head repeatedly. "(Y/N) you're the only thing that's keeping me sane. Everything's falling apart, but (Y/N), you're the only constant in my life. I-if you left me, I don't know what I'd do. (Y/N), tell me what to do, please."

"Let me go," you whispered. "Flicka, let me go, but never forget me, okay?"

"Cookie it's not just you," Reggie choked on his words. "Mom and dad," he covered his mouth with his hands to stifle a sob. "They're going through with the divorce, it's all my fault,"

You grabbed Reggie's hands firmly in your own, forcing him to look into your eyes,

"Reggie this is not your fault. Don't you dare think that,"

"But it is! I told them to do it! I didn't have any faith in their relationship, m-maybe they could have fixed things, maybe we could have been normal. I would have them when you leave,"

"Reggie your parents weren't meant to be together," you hushed. "Everyone knows that, no one better than them. Darcy and Diana are good people; they just don't work together, except when you came along of course," you tried to lighten the mood, wiping away a few of Reggie's tears, pressing a kiss to each cheek. "The best thing they could have ever given the world is you Flicka, I don't want you to forget that. Divorce or not. Me moving away or not. Just forget it all for a minute, be with me,"

Reggie nodded and you let him hold you tight in his arms, overlooking the calm and peaceful water by the lake. His arms were snaked around your waist from behind, his face buried in your neck, tears staining the sweatshirt you wore that you had stolen from Alex. You wondered if he might let you keep it, to remember him by.

You wanted something from everyone. To make sure you'd never forget.

The only person who knew so far was Ray; you had a shift right after you spoke with your parents and it was too much trying to keep it all in. He gave you his rosary, without a second thought or question. Placing it in your hands before pulling you into a hug, tighter than he'd ever held you before.

If you could have disappeared in that moment you would. At least things would have been perfect. You could have Reggie by your side, but instead either you or whatever was going on in life pushed him away. It caused so much pain, so much unneeded pain.

"Hey Flicka?" you sniffed.

"Mhmm?"

"You remember that time we came to the lake that summer in third grade and I convinced you there was that monster in there cause I thought it was gonna scare you, but... you just went right in the water and tried to look for it so you could be its friend?"

"Yeah what about it?" he asked, a small smile coming over his face.

A quiet sob escaped your lips. "I just miss when times were easier, you know?" you whispered. "When all our worries consisted of were making friends and Ms. Markson's stupid math assignments."

Reggie's grip around you tightened. "I always thought those take home quizzes were useless," he laughed softly. "But I miss those times, too."

Silence filled the air once more. Your left hand found Reggie's squeezing it tight. Reggie couldn't help but look down at your intertwined hands and feel a mix of emotions bubble in him.

"You know," he said in a hushed tone. "When we were together, last year? I remember bringing you here after you passed your finals exams. I'd never seen you happier, o-or relaxed. I remember..." Reggie choked back his tears. "I remember thinking that day, "I'm going to marry this girl." I-I'm going to marry the girl who can't sleep without a nightlight on, or eat jelly sandwiches without those disgusting gummy worms in them." Reggie closed his eyes, trying to imagine the memory vividly. "I'm going to leave everything behind, all the worries and doubts, and start a family with her. I don't care if she wants one or a dozen, because I'd do anything to see her smile..."

"Reggie," you whispered, turning to cup the side of his face.

"I told myself I was going to make you the happiest girl in the world," he told you with a shaky voice. "Because you've made me the happiest guy in the universe."

You kissed him softly, you kiss bittersweet with the taste of salty tears. "I would have said yes if you asked me," you told him, smiling weakly.

"I would have planned the wedding right there," he let out a broken laugh. "A wedding under the stars, just like you said when we were kids. Something small, with only our friends and parents."

"It would have been the perfect wedding, Flicka," you said, sniffing loudly, "Luke would've forced me to make him co-maid of honour,"

"Ray would've taken our photos," Reggie added on, his chin tucked in your shoulder.

"And Sunset Curve would've played at least one song,"

"Now or Never?" Reggie suggested and you both let out a sad chuckle.

"Maybe we could've sung something together too," you mused, your fingers playing with the back of the collar of Reggie's shirt.

"You would've done that?" he asked, pulling you an arms length away so he could see your eyes. Your beautiful (e/c) eyes he could have looked at for ages.

You shrugged and nodded, "No better time to make it our thing right?"

"Yeah," Reggied said breathlessly. "I just wished we had more time. Or the ability to go back to the past to fix every mistake so that maybe we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now."

You shook your head. "I don't want that," you told him in a quiet voice.

Reggie's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "You don't?"

"I don't," you said simply. You leaned forward so that your forehead was resting against his. "I don't because I have total faith in the universe that we'll be brought together again. Maybe in a couple of months or years, but I know I'll find my way back to you."

Reggie let out a pitiful laugh. "You have so much faith in something that gave you a shitty life," he mumbled.

"You should take a few notes from that, Flicka," you told him. Your phone began to ring. Sighing you glanced down at it. "That's my mom, no doubt. She wants us to start planning to get ready to leave soon."

As you stood up, Reggie grabbed your hand and pulled you back. "Can't you stay a little longer?" he asked. "I don't want you to leave so quickly, not when we're both like this."

You smiled before reaching behind your neck and unclasping the horseshoe necklace he had given you years prior. Placing it in his hand, you kissed his knuckles softly.

"Cookie, I can't take this," Reggie fought. "I-I want you to have it to remember me by. I couldn't take it from you again,"

"Remember what I said about the universe bringing us back together," you told him. "We're going to see each other again, I know it." You kissed his cheek, stepping back after. "I love you, Flicka."

You turned on your heel and walked back to your car. Reggie watched as your figure shrunk as you walked farther, until you disappeared altogether.

"I love you, too, Cookie."

—

"Okay, where do you keep the whiskey?" Bobby asked, looking through Ray and Roses' cupboards for any source of alcohol.

"I thought you would have been happy about this," Alex said sarcastically. "She's going back to Canada,"

"Oh shut up Mercer," Bobby sneered at his friend. "She's actually leaving. She left. For real, just when we get her back. How is that fair?"

"It's not," Rose shook her head and curled into her boyfriend's side. "It's not fair,"

Reggie was sitting alone on the floor, his back to the couch that Alex and Luke were sitting on, staring aimlessly at the wall ahead of him.

"What do you need, Reggie?" Luke asked. "Lady Bunny was our friend, but she was your second half, I can't imagine what you feel like,"

"Pretty shitty Luke, not gonna lie," Reggie pursed his lips. "If I had just said something, maybe a week before, maybe years before, we could have been together now. I-I..." his voice faded into a sigh. "What am I supposed to do?"

Ray, who had been quiet up until that moment, sat up straighter and looked down at the black haired bassist.

"You go after her," Ray said firmly. "Go meet her, spend the summer. Hell stay with her Reggie this is (Y/N) we're talking about. Screw California that doesn't matter if you aren't with her,"

"But the band-,"

"We'll be on tour anyways, you can just come join us, it can't be that hard," Alex encouraged. "But at least you'll be with her. It's not fair to take you away from that. She's your Cookie for crying out loud."

"I have half a mind to come with you," Luke chuckled with a small sniffle.

"Me too," Rose added. "I really thought something was gonna happen and she was gonna stay,"

Bobby finally entered the room, a bottle of white wine in his hands. "Will you all stop moping?" he said to the group. "I get it, we all get it. But sitting on our sorry asses collecting nothing but dust isn't going to bring her back to California."

Alex wiped a stray tear away with his sweatshirt sleeve. "Weren't you sad, like, a second ago?" he asked.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "That's life," he told him. "You're sad for a couple of seconds, then boom, alcohol." Bobby took a swig of wine before cringing. "This shit is horrible. Anyway, Reggie, you have the opportunity. You have the support. Now wipe those damn tears and get your girl."

Reggie pursed his lips and looked down at his hands before slapping them on his thighs,

"Who the hell's gonna take me to the airport then? I've got a flight to catch,"

"Oh no you don't honey," Rose shook her head. "Not like that, let's pack you a bag first, we're not that stupid."

A smile adorned her lips. “When you get your girl, you’re doing it in style.” 

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[alfredosauce50]

Island Escapade [Ex-con! 2p! America x reader x Denmark] 09

Island Escapade - 09 - The Great Escape Wordcount: 3, 370 The reader is referred to as she/her.

The house was quiet save for the voice of a reporter. Mathias wasn't one to watch something as boring as the news, so he was probably dead asleep in front of the TV. If not, about to be. You appeared in the doorway, unable to help the growing smile at the sight of him nodding off. As peaceful as he looked, you couldn't let him pass out on the couch. "Don't sleep like that, or you'll ruin your neck. C'mon. You have a perfectly usable bed at your disposal."

You patted his cheek until his eyes began to flutter. He merely grumbled, unwilling. "But you’re not in the bedroom." Mathias rolled his head away and screwed his eyes shut. "Night." Never bothering to add anything else, he licked his bottom lip before drifting off again.

You sat beside him with a huff. A week had passed since he recovered, but the exhaustion was there all the same. When you put two and two together, concern washed over you all over again.

If he wasn’t excitable and bounding with energy, he was tired, burnt-out, even. It reflected his mood, which was rarely anything besides a good one. Anger he could manage, but sadness? It drained him like a vampire would suck their victims dry.

"Just because I'm not sharing a room with you." He couldn't seem to handle being alone at all. Not even when he was sleeping. "You're hopeless." Pulling his head onto your lap, he immediately buried his face into your shirt. Despite being unconscious, he took on a relaxed expression as if he knew where he was. It was exactly where he wanted to be. "I can’t keep doing this for you, Mat..."

And yet, here you were. You’d be lying if you said it was just for him.

He was pulling you in again. Getting you to put up with his shit. First, he disappeared, then fell sick. And now, the sad sap didn't need to compete for your attention. Not anymore. It seriously begged the question, what if you never shut him out? Physically, you did. For a while. But emotionally? You didn't want to think about it.

So you were stubborn. So what?

Allen had been filling out his logbook when you wandered off into the living room. Giving all the boxes a brief skim, he left his room to find you. "Looks good to me. Now I gotta get this signed off..."

When he walked out, he saw you on the couch with the dumbass Dane on your lap. He never thought much of you still caring about the guy, especially after being shipped off like that. But watching you comb a hand through his hair made it too jarring. The way you held him, looked at him.

You were still in love with him.

It made his chest ache in the subtlest of ways.

"Am I interrupting something?" He began, the voice making you freeze. The denial was glaring at this point. Allen grinned lazily when you exchanged glances with him and Mathias on your lap. Nervously. "Don't mind me. Just wonderin' if you could spare me a few and sign off my hours." Holding up his booklet at that, he waved it around for emphasis.

"Yeah, of course! Hand it over." He did as told. While you flicked through the pages, he came around to the back to wrap his arms around your neck. There, he watched on. "Let's see... Wow, your hours are coming along nicely. You'll be done with this in no time!"

He bumped his head against yours. "Couldn't do it without ya. Let's say waking up early isn't my strongest suit."

"Oh, yeah?" You ticked everything off with a smile of your own. "I can't believe it's already been three months! I don't think you'll have to stay for the whole sentence. Six months, I mean. Cuz' at this rate, you'll only need..." Your excitement for him faded. "One month." In other words, he already stayed most of his welcome. Three-quarters of it.

Allen seemed to be on the same page as you.

"One month until I'm a free man again, huh?" He took his logbook and set that aside. "And I was beginning to like it here. But nothing lasts forever, I guess." Closing his eyes at that, he joined you on the couch with a soft sigh. He never said anything after that. He didn't need to. The silence was deafening, and both of you shared the same sentiments without opening your mouths.

"I'm gonna miss you, Al." Your gaze saddened. He furrowed his brows. And he was trying to avoid the emotional aspect of it. You, however, jumped straight to it. In your defense, nothing lasts forever didn't seem to apply to you the same way it did to him. What you wanted to stay didn't. What you wanted to go away never budged. Allen and Mathias. Like Yin and Yang, they were the perfect opposites of one another.

Allen reached out to pinch your cheek affectionately.

"What do you mean? I'm still here."

You hardened your stare. "Not in a month, you won't."

He nodded slowly in defeat. Then, he responded with a low chuckle. "Always so serious, aren't you, doll? You didn't have to say it like that. We can't help what we can't change." Pulling out his phone, he directed your attention to what was on the screen. "What we can help is animal trafficking, though. What do you know? What your stupid ex did gave the Interpol good, useable intel."

Who would've thought?

After scanning the article's contents, you sucked in a gasp, completely enraptured by the news. "And you never told me? Allen, this is amazing! Oh my God, we're getting our turtles back!" The said man managed a lopsided grin to reflect your delight. While you shook Mathias awake, violently, the reporter on TV announced the news—'Lucky ferry mix up leads to animal trafficking bust'

"I figured it would find its way to you," Allen said.

Mathias groaned while he was rocked back and forth. "Guh... What... What's happening?" He croaked. An earthquake? No way. When he saw the look on your face, he snapped out of his daze. But nothing could've prepared him for what he was about to hear.

"Mat, you did it! We're getting our turtles back!" You exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. That wasn't enough to express the gratitude and relief surging through your system, however. "I can't believe it! You actually did something right! Not that you don't ever, but what you did was really stupid--" He shook his head in shock. Wait, did he hear you correctly? You climbed onto his lap and squeezed him again.

He must’ve. Otherwise, why would you be sitting on him? "--I'll still be mad at you for it, but at least it wasn't for nothing—!"

He returned the embrace slowly, still unable to fathom what you were saying. "Woah, woah, woah. What are you talking about? What's up?" Nevertheless, he found himself lighting up at your tone of voice. You were overjoyed, and the euphoria seemed to be targeted at him. Combined with the hug you gave him that only grew tighter and tighter, his melancholy was soon no more.

"The eggs, you idiot!" You pulled away to gleam at him. "The police found them! They must've cracked them down when you explained why you were undocumented in America!"

It finally clicked, as evident in his change in expression. "Ha! We did it, we did it!" Mathias's nostrils flared as he stood up with you in his arms. "I told you not to worry! This was always a matter for the police, kæreste," While he spun you around with great enthusiasm, you laughed at his hypocrisy. A matter for the police, he said. His stupidity never failed to amaze you. For once, it was a good kind of amazement.

"You're just lucky, Mat. I don't know why God keeps smiling at you. Just never do that again." In the heat of the moment, you kissed his cheek. Mathias widened his eyes, and after some hesitation, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. Allen looked away. This was so hard to watch. The Dane was back to murmuring something in your ear, something he couldn't pick up, but whatever it was, you didn't like it.

You were set back on the ground again. You had the choice to move away, and yet, you didn't, and instead, stayed put with your face in his chest. He coiled his arms around your form. And he was smiling, wistfully.

Allen had no idea what was going on in Mathias's head. Whether he was really the person you thought he was, he had you wrapped around his finger. He wanted to help you. He really did. But what if this was for the best? If you couldn't stay away from him, there must've been something about the guy that made him so worth forgiving.

Or was it just his insecurity talking?

Seeing you so infatuated got him rethinking what kind of person he was himself. Mathias had his life together. A successful scientist, and now, a hero. That goof was on the right side of the law. He wasn't. He was a nobody. After this sentence, he was back to job-skipping around Ibiza. And if that didn't check out, nothing was stopping him from living up to the name Mathias insisted on him.

A criminal. A bum.

So what the hell was he thinking, trying to save you from something you didn't need saving from? He was the one who needed to get his shit together. Not Mathias, not you.

The night called for celebration. With Allen's speedy progress and Mathias's lucky break, you were getting a taste of the exuberance yourself. Your work was only getting better and better. You've never felt this on track with your responsibilities. The same couldn't be said for other aspects of your life, however.

You had no idea how to act around Mathias anymore. So what did you do? You avoided him at all costs. After spending the first twenty minutes at the back of a rave, you took Allen's hand and pulled him away. When he shot you a weird look, you offered him a sheepish smile. "Just trust me. I know a better place to be!" He could barely hear your shouts over the pandemonium of EDM and a screaming crowd.

While you led him to the inside of the club, which already looked like the aftermath of a wild night, deserted and strewn with trash, he let out a low chuckle. "What's a better place to be than a party like that? This dump?" He grinned, earning a heated glare from you.

"Quit being such a smartass and follow me."

You both appeared in a separate pool room. While he skidded to a stop, he was prepared to object. "Don't have to do that when you're—" Allen trailed off as he took in his surroundings. "—dragging me." His tanned complexion took on a bright blue glow from the heated pool. Next to the huge body of water was a minibar. Behind the counter was a lone bartender, scrubbing away at a glass.

"And I thought I liked to party." He remarked in awe, turning to you with a scoff. "This is one of the coolest spots I've ever been to."

"You'd be surprised. This is the party island, after all." Allen wiped his hand down your smug face as if to smear invisible dirt all over it. "Eugh--I didn't take you to be a bad sport, Al." The man shrugged off your annoyance with a playful smirk of his own. Of course, the animosity was short-lived on your end, and you were back to pulling him around. This time, to the minibar he set his sights on.

"Just didn't think you'd be the type to... You know. Be like me. Self-indulge. I'm good at that." He took a seat on one of the stools while you ordered a round of drinks. Allen blinked. It only felt like yesterday that you chewed him out for trying to get in some beer at the fundraising party. "... But I guess everyone needs an escape."

You flashed him a tight smile. The bartender rocked his mixer back and forth, filling the backdrop with the rattling of ice and booze. "What do you know? I didn't think you'd be one to be so philosophical." He wanted to get hot-headed. But that wasn't quite right—he only thought he would. He always had a bad temperament, a bad attitude, even. Antonio could agree with him on that.

And yet, it was almost as if he didn't have an angry bone in his body. Not here he didn't. Not when you were the one giving him the jabs.

You craned your head to the side thoughtfully. "I was wrong about you, Allen." He froze up. Nevertheless, he darted his wary eyes to your tender expression to watch you speak. In that space in time, the same thought occurred between you both. Why are you looking at me like that? Why he seemed so worried all of a sudden, and why—

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a shake of the head. "Don't." Your tender gaze was no more. It was replaced by dejection. "I'm not doing this with you, doll."

You scoffed at him, defeated. "Do what? I was just trying to say I'm proud of you, Allen. You've changed. You're not so much of a—"

Allen rose a brow. "—a bum?" He cut in. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart. I really am. But you were right about me all along." He took a long sip of whatever you ordered him. While you could only watch him do as he pleased, helplessly, he downed every last drop before slamming down the glass with a wince. "Once this is all over, I'm going back to who I used to be."

"And what's that?" You exasperated, eyes wide with grief. Before the heat blurring your vision could turn into tears, you blinked it away. "A criminal? You aren't a criminal, Al. You aren't the same as you used to be! Why the hell would I even be so close to you if you were? Use your brain, you idiot. You're just as stupid as Mathias, sometimes," His lips separated ajar at that. He was at a loss for words.

Out of all the things you could cry about, you were crying about him.

"Yeah, so my point exactly. He may be stupid, but at least he's got his shit together!" Allen sighed sharply. "And I'm probably just stupid like you said. There's nothing great about me."

Your face fell. His head was turned away, and he was showing a bitter glower. This was why he blew up? The feelings of inadequacy were always there, and it came back to haunt him like a ghost now that his sentence was drawing to an end. No wonder he was so closed off in the afternoon. He wanted to stop thinking about his own life. With you around, he was hard-working, playful, and sensitive.

But by himself, he was nothing. Without this community service, which was more of a getaway than anything, a ruse, even, he had nothing to try for. So he had everything to lose himself in. Drinking, partying, and getting handsy with random chicks, whatever it needed to feel alive.

"If there's nothing great about you, why am I here?" You began in a faint murmur. "I wanted to hang out with you, Al."

Allen hung his head. "Don't start with me. Don't do this to me."

Now, he wasn't exactly a poet, but what he really meant to say was this—don't give me hope. Don't make me try to be a better person. It was so much easier to stay where he was, here at the bottom of the world, all because he couldn't get any lower.

You shook your head stubbornly. "I do what I want. I pick my own friends. If I like you, then that's my business."

"Well, that's the problem, doll. I don't think you just like me." He admitted, fully expecting mortification on your end. Much to his surprise, your steely gaze on him remained unfaltering. Hell, it even looked like you were beckoning him to continue. "If I could, I'd snatch your pretty little ass away from that Danish douchebag the second I had the chance."

Okay, now that got your face lighting up. All until it looked like Christmas at the Vatican. The blush was setting in, and it seemed like you had your ears peeled for what was next. "Then why don't you? I'm right here." It was Allen's turn to get flustered, but the feeling was short-lived when he saw how you looked at him. There was untold sadness behind your eyes. Even tiredness. Dread.

He finally understood why you were so on board with him. Why you liked him so much, and why you wanted him to see himself the way you saw him.

"I can't keep doing this. With Mathias. One of these days, I'm gonna make a mistake I'll really regret." You urged, reaching out to squeeze his wrist. "I need you to help me get him out of my house. I can't think with him around." That was right. He'd been drawing you in again, just like every other time you had an argument and decided to shut him out. But this had to stop, at least for a little while.

"Promise me you'll do that before you leave."

Allen nodded, albeit reluctantly. He didn't know what you were planning, but at least it didn't exactly involve him. "Sure. But what's the plan after that, boss? You're not gonna bootycall me the second he goes, are you? I hope you don't."

You shot him a heated glare. "No, you dingus. I just need some time to think."

He closed his eyes contentedly. This conversation ended on a happier note than he expected. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say." Allen laughed when you slapped his shoulder. He then opened his eyes to stare at you through his eyebrows. "But I'm still not taking it back. I'm a criminal, dollface. It's a mindset, not a state of being. I don't have money. I don't have shit. So one of these days, I could get desperate."

He leaned in forebodingly. "I could steal stuff. Rob a bank. Who the fuck knows. So keep that in mind when you do your thinking. I'm not good enough for you, babe. He is."

You were fuming through your nostrils at this point. Humoring him on his fragile self-esteem was one thing, but once it involved you, the line had to be drawn. Especially when he was talking about Mathias like the Mr. Right he very much wasn't. "Take that back." He turned away to ignore you. "Fuck you, Al. I thought you of all people would know how he can be. But I guess you're not done brooding about yourself."

Reaching out to your untouched glass, you gulped down the contents knowing damn well you couldn't handle your alcohol. You slammed it down when you were done, alerting Allen to spin your way. Well, I'll be damned, he thought. You had some attitude yourself. "You're a better person than you think you are. You're everything I could ask for in someone I could trust."

He couldn't believe it, but he was letting you get to him. Allen swore an oath he'd try everything he could to keep that asshat in check. It was the least he could do as a friend. That determination waxed and waned for a while, but it was finally coming back as he listened to you speak.

"You're everything he isn't."

That also begged the question—why did you hate the idea of getting back with Mathias so much? Besides his persistence, entitlement, and everything in between, something major must've gone down.

And Allen had a feeling he was about to find out what.

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him? 

A/N: Hi! I’m new here and still figuring out tumblr. I have no idea how all this goes! This is the first ever story I’m posting online. I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head and would like to share it with all of you! Quarantine’s finally given me time to get over posting online, lol. Please comment away whatever you think of the story! This is a very angsty fic! hope you enjoy :) 

Warnings: ANGST, CHEATING

She turned in bed flinging her arm out expecting Bucky to be beside her as her groggy mind pulled her back into sleep, only to have her hand bounce back on the empty mattress. Her arm fished farther out, trying to find him in the dark but still, it was empty. Confused, she slowly opened her eyes to blink the sleep away, he wasn’t home. She shot up as the realization hit her and glanced at the clock, its red glaring lights mocking her. 4:25 AM. 

Bucky didn’t come home. 

She swallowed as a lump formed in her throat. The first few nights he kept coming home late, she waited for him, asked how his day was, what took him so long at work and he’d usually dismiss her with a kiss and her favorite crooked smile as he cuddled up to her in bed making her forget all her worries. Even up until now, after five years of being married, he still had that effect on her. One glance her way with his smirk and she’d still feel her heart flip inside her chest. Whenever he hoisted Lizzie up in the air making her giggle, Y/N was sure her heart was shining in her eyes as she watched them. 

And now this. 

She knew the first time he told her not to wait up, something was off. He kept coming home later than usual and when he did come home, he smelled of alcohol and as much as Y/N would like to deny it, perfume. A perfume that distinctly wasn’t hers. Instead of confronting him about it, she denied it to herself, closing herself off to the truth that was becoming more and more obvious as the days went on. Instead, she took extra efforts to please him, waking up early to cook his favorite breakfast, preparing his favorite dishes for dinner even though he barely came home for it, trying to pass by his office at lunch so they could spend time together. All the while hoping he would stay and come back to her, come back to being her Bucky. 

She wiped the tears that started to drip down her eyes. “Where did it all go wrong? What have I done to deserve this?” A sob came out as soon as she allowed herself to accept the truth. She brought her knees up to her chest and buried her face in between, hugging herself, trying to make herself as small as possible as sobs wracked her body. She cried for Bucky, cried for their family, cried for herself because somewhere in the process, she lost her pride and accepted whatever affection he could afford to give her, like a dog trying to please its owner, and never demanding what she deserved. She might have stayed like that for an hour or more but she knew that if she continued on, Lizzie would wake up and find her mother crying her eyes out and that’s the last thing she wanted. Lizzie, oh god, Lizzie what was she going to do with her sweet daughter? She could accept Bucky cheating on her, neglecting her even but for their daughter, it was unacceptable, she was only four, she did not deserve this. Yet, she was the collateral damage to the shambles of their marriage.  The thought made her head hurt, she scrambled out of bed, needing to do something or she’d wallow in self pity and she needed to be strong for her daughter, always for her daughter, even if it meant living in a delusion to keep her family together. She heard footsteps at the stairs of their apartment and quickly grabbed her phone by the bedside table and ran to the bathroom. She leaned against the door, sighing, listening to him shuffling in the bedroom. 

“Y/N, you in there? Sorry, fell asleep on Steve’s couch.” Bucky called from the door, no trace of guilt in his voice. Y/N just closed her eyes and sighed. 

“About to take a bath!” She replied and checked her phone. No messages from him whatsoever that he’d be at Steve’s apartment. She quickly tried to hide her hurt to take on the day. For her sanity, for Lizzie, the mantra kept repeating itself in her head. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Mommy, why can’t I have cereal?” Lizzie whined from her seat at the counter as Y/N poured her orange juice. 

“Yeah, why can’t she have cereal?” Bucky strode in playfully, the scent of his after shave filling Y/N’s senses, making tears prick at her eyes. She quickly turned around and faced the coffee pot, pouring more into her mug. She couldn’t stand to be near him after accepting the truth. She couldn’t face their situation, not yet. 

“Daddy!” Lizzie chirped, already lifting her arms for a hug from her self-proclaimed superhero dad. 

“How’s my little girl this morning?” He said lifting her up and kissing her cheek which only made her giggle. 

“Eat your vegetables, squirt.” Bucky reminded her a little more seriously but with a charming smile nonetheless, and Lizzie, who worships the ground he walks on, eagerly nibbled on the beans from her plate trying to please him. Just like her mother, Y/N thought sarcastically. 

She was still turned away from the counter when she felt Bucky sidling up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, pulling her in to kiss her hair. 

“Morning, babe,” 

“Morning Buck,” She cleared her throat and moved away from him, standing in front of her daughter who was eating her breakfast far more enthusiastically than when her dad wasn’t around. God, this was a mess, what was she going to do? Lizzie clearly adored her father and if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t know how to live without Bucky. 

Bucky saw the glassy look in Y/N’s eyes as she stared at their daughter, her hands fiddling in front of her and he instantly knew it was on him. He brought that look on her face, guilt and remorse punched him in the gut. 

“Hey,” he said soothingly putting his hand on her back as he was about to apologize about last night. 

“Lizzie, drink your juice, daddy will bring you to school,” Y/N flinched away from him, starting to flee the room. 

“I gotta go,” She told him, grabbing her bag from the counter, and kissing their daughter on the cheek before heading out. She didn’t glance at him or give him his kiss goodbye like she usually did and instead, avoided looking at him. He froze, feeling the fear creep up on him. She didn’t know, did she? 

“Bye Mommy!” Lizzie waved from her chair as Y/N got to the door. She turned around with a genuine smile on her face. God, she was beautiful when she smiled like that, and he missed it, he missed her and he hadn’t even realized it. 

“Bye baby,” she said as she blew her a kiss. She cleared her throat and her expression blanked when she turned to him. 

“Buck, don’t forget to pick her up today,”

“Today?” She usually picked Lizzie up from school, being the owner of a quaint little cafe, Winter Bakery, giving her the flexibility in schedule to do so. He had work to do and he was gonna meet up with Celeste around that time. The immediate thought of the woman he was seeing brought shame and guilt to his conscience, making him lash out at her. 

“I can’t, you know I have work,” he said a little too accusingly. 

Y/N just closed her eyes and exhaled harshly, trying to reign in her control. 

“Daddy, don’t you want to pick me up?” Lizzie asked sadly and Bucky felt all his anger vanish as he saw his little girl’s fallen face.

“Of course not, sweetie, I just--” 

“Bucky, we’ve been through this, I’m trying to land this catering gig for Stark, remember?” Y/N’s defeated voice rose above his and he immediately felt sorry, god, he was the worst husband. 

Sure, it was just a little get together for the birthday of Tony Stark’s daughter but it was a big deal to Y/N. She had met Pepper in Lizzie’s school as they waited for their pre-schoolers to be dismissed and instantly became friends. At first, Y/N was starstruck with Pepper especially when she discovered that she was a hands-on mom, while running Stark Industries at the same time but she was such a down-to-earth woman matched with a witty sense of humor that it was hard to lose any topic of conversation with her. Of course, it helped that Lizzie and Morgan had become the best of friends even on just the first day of school. Next thing they knew, they were spending play dates at the bakery when the girls insisted on hanging out. That’s when Pepper discovered Y/N’s cupcakes and raved to Tony that, “they were absolutely the best she’s ever had”. Of course with Tony being Tony, wanting only the best for his daughter, set up a taste test meeting for his daughter’s birthday, insisting on trying every single flavor of cake and cupcake she could make, and not just a take-out of the best sellers, like Pepper had suggested. They weren’t just going to settle for the best sellers like some sheep following the herd. “His words, not mine” Pepper had said and having the Tony Stark to be Y/N’s first customer for her first ever catering gig would mean a lot for her business. Only recently has she decided to expand it and she felt like she’s talked Bucky’s ears off with her plans and here he was, seemingly having forgotten the day she’s most talked about. She wasn’t even angry with him, she was just disappointed and not even a little bit surprised. 

“Oh shit, babe, I’m sorry I forgot,” Bucky immediately went to her and enveloped her in a hug and she hated herself for loving the feel of his arms around her.

“Promise, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered but she didn’t believe him, she was over his empty promises.

“Just pick Lizzie up,” She said before she left the door with not a glance back.

Part 2

[peaches-writes]

there’s nine days left until christmas

skz of christmas day 1: early morning mass with jisung

member: jisung wc: 1.6k genre: fluff, comedy, childhood friends to lovers au (but the lovers part is so tiny), neighbour au warning: explicit language note: this the one time im making church boys skz happen bc it’s kinda funny + i made a rlly corny joke somewhere there but u hav to squint rlly rlly hard

Having to live in the city for almost 350 out of 365 days a year in order to study at university, you’ve naturally come to appreciate the peace and quiet of the countryside you would spend long stretches of holidays at. From the screeching but natural sound of roosters replacing your phone’s alarm clock to the gentle breeze that doesn’t need you to run around in circles a few times to brush past your open arms, you’re always looking forward to staying with your grandparents in a small mountainside village just an hour away from the main road because of all the healing it has to offer.

Well, maybe except small but constant inconvenience in your visits in the form of your neighbor, Han Jisung.

“Ji, I swear I will drag you out of your bed and take you to church in your pajamas if you don’t get up right now.” You threaten the still snoring boy on the bed you’ve been crouching next to for the past five minutes. Slapping his cheek once more, you frantically try and wake him up again by adding, “Han Jisung, get up now! We’re going to be late!”

Like you, Jisung only visits on Christmases and a few weeks at the beginning of each summer. He stays with his own grandparents who live next door to yours which, in hindsight, sounds like it doesn’t give you much reason to be hovering over him at 3:55 AM on a Thursday if not for the fact that when there’s 9 days left before Christmas Day (aka today), your grandparents want to attend the early morning mass in the town proper but the only means of transportation is the shuttle that only comes at 4 AM.

Jisung’s clearly not a morning person, either, so you can see where your problems currently lie.

“Jisung...” You call his name again between gritted teeth now. You’ve pulled the covers, took his extra pillows away, and switched off the electric fan across the room but to no avail—the boy just groaned, whined, and curled up into a ball on his sleeping bag. “Deadass the only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because your grandma promised me rice cakes again if I got you dressed before the shuttle arrives so wake up, you dumbass, or I’ll turn you into the rice cake.”

In front of you, Jisung only rubs his closed eyes and whines even more. “Five more minutes, baby.” He mumbles under his breath, lazily bringing his bare arm up to his face to cover his eyes from the harsh light flickering on the ceiling.

The nickname has you rolling your eyes and smacking his head. In frustration, you then stand up from your position and walk over to his closet, throwing him his clothes. “I’m going to count down to five and if you still haven’t opened your eyes and started changing, I’m calling Minho in from next do—“

The mere mention of your other childhood friend across the street immediately has the boy opening his eyes and throwing the random shirt over his head.

-

“You have drool on your face, dumbass.” You point to Jisung with your index finger, chuckling when he aggressively wipes on the area right next to his bottom lip. “The whole church would smell the morning breath through the speakers.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, sinking into his seat with his acoustic guitar hugged to his chest and a yawn. “What’s taking so long, anyway?”

“The priest who’s supposed to preside had something come up last minute, apparently,” You shrug, flipping through the song book and practicing on the old piano in the mean time. Nearby, both of your grandmas are conversing animatedly with the rest of the choir while your grandfathers have both wandered off somewhere—most likely to the small vendors outside the building. “I’ll give it ten minutes until they get the priest from the next village.”

Jisung groans, finally placing his guitar back on its stand and sitting up properly only to scoot closer to you and rest his head on your shoulder. “I could’ve gotten more sleep at home.”

You immediately shrug him off in response but to no avail. “And who said you can sleep on my shoulder?”

“You woke me up so you take responsibility.” He pouts, linking your arms to hold you in place and adjusting his head on the crook of your neck. “Wake me up when we’re about to start, okay? Goodnight!”

“Ya, Han Jisu—ya!” You tilt your head down to meet his gaze to find his eyes already closed forcibly shut. When you flick his forehead and complain even more, he simply cusses at you and swats your hand away with his free hand. “So that’s how it is...”

“Don’t you dare...”

Moving your hands as close to the piano keys as you can, you then surprise the sleeping boy by practicing on the piano as loudly as you can. Great Amen echoes throughout the entire church, amplified further by the speakers set up near every pew and, naturally, veryone in vicinity jumps in surprise, including your own grandma who drops her fan, Jisung’s grandma who almost topples over in her seat, and even Seungmin who’s supposed to help sacristans this morning with the candles. 

“I hate you so much.” Jisung mumbles with furrowed brows. 

“Then get off my shoulder.” 

“No.” 

- 

“Why are you playing a Bb6? It’s a Gm7.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

You and Jisung squint your eyes at each other as you continue playing through the song anyway. Fortunately, the people sitting in for choir haven’t noticed the small mistakes yet and you’re already halfway through the mass.

“It was a Gm7.” Jisung insists anyway, leaning forward on your piano to look at the handwritten music score properly as he strums his guitar. “Whoever wrote this needs to get their ears checked.”

“You wrote this in last year with Changbin.” You point out, biting down a chuckle. The song then finally finishes and the two of you lean back in your shared seat to wait for the next one. When you look over at the choir where your grandmas have been for the past forty minutes, you see them paying attention to the mass and not at all caring about the two of you arguing. “I’m trying to follow you, dumbass.”

Stubbornly, Jisung scrunches up his nose in denial. “No, I don’t think so? I’d remember if we did.” He defends himself, earning him an eyeroll from you as he then picks up a nearby pencil and writes the ‘correct’ chord on the paper. “Anyway, it’s only the first mass.” 

You’d erase the correction on any other day had your grandma cued you again for another song. Sitting up properly (and making sure you elbow Jisung enough for him to scoot away and give you space to play on the lower keys), you then deadpa, “You don’t even remember anything else you write.” 

“Yes I d—!” Before his tone of voice could rise up higher and disrupt the entire mass, you make sure to push him back from the microphone nearest to his mouth by placing a hand over his face. “Ya!”

- 

Speaking of your other other childhood friend, you and Jisung immediately trail after Changbin once the mass concludes. Stifling your giggles as you try and blend in with the crowd of aunties who are now talking about where they could eat breakfast together and children who’ve just woken up from napping throughout the entire ceremony, you find your target by the rice cake vendors at the church entrance with the same (almost annual) look of distress on his face. 

“Third year in a row.” You whisper to Jisung as the two of you hid in the mini garden right in front of the church. Just a few meters ahead, Changbin is still contemplating on buying the rice cakes. “Do you think he’ll do it this year?”

Next to you, Jisung is quick to shake his head. “Sorry to break it to you, baby, but did you see him back there? He couldn’t even hold the other person’s hand!” He laughs, a hand hovering over his lips to muffle the sound. “I’m pretty sure the rice cakes are gonna take another two years.”

“I did, I saw him! He looked nervous as fuck I felt really bad for him!” You topple over in laughter at this, clasping your hands together. “Ah, Changbin shouldn’t always be hanging out at the rice cake vendors after every mass if he’s not going to buy. He keeps giving them—and us—false hope!”

“Can you believe this guy ditched us to flirt? He can’t even do it properly.” Jisung dramatically scoffs, breaking into another fit of laughs when Changbin walks away from the rice cake vendor at seeing his crush already walking home. “We should ambush him later when we play basketball, ‘no?”

“And you think you can do better?” You quirk an eyebrow teasingly, elbowing Jisung by his side. “Flirt, I mean?” 

“Yeah, totally!” Jisung nods with so much conviction and exaggerated determination in his expression that it makes you laugh again. “Stop doubting my skills, Y/N!” 

“Of course I’d doubt it, you’re all bark and no bite most of the time.” You scrunch up your nose, making his eyes widen and a string of protests to come out of his lips. “What? It’s true!”

“That’s not fair, you only see me on Christmas and summer!” 

“Exactly.” You cross your arms smugly which he squints his eyes at. “So, think you can do better than Seo Changbin, Ji? Prove it!” 

Taking your hand in his, Jisung then pulls you up to a stand and starts dragging you over to the rice cake vendors. “Oh, I will prove it.” He rolls his eyes, even going as far as intertwining your fingers before you could even fully comprehend what’s happening so suddenly. “What color of rice cake do you want, baby? Also, you like cheese on the rice cake, right?” 

-

december 17 (lee felix)

skz of christmas (masterlist)

m.list

@skzwriternet 

[krabmeat]

𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Wilbur Soot

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: he/him

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: physical pain descriptions, paranoia, overdose, hospitalization, alarms, descriptions of hallucinations

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎:

this is the 2nd part to my 7 part series of making all of the songs from YCGMA into short stories! this one is for saline solution, hope ya like it! :]

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

One, two, three and four

The seconds tick by on the clock in my workroom. The sound sensitive LED border of the clock lights up whenever I cough. I find it hard to breathe, the wheezes between breaths are loud, so I take a puff of my inhaler sitting on my desk next to my pc. It’s been difficult to walk lately, I’ve made a steady recovery but my legs sometimes feel like the pores are being replaced with lead- heavy and cold. Despite this though, I make my way over to my bedroom. My roommate isn’t home yet, despite how late it is. The walls of the hallway echo my footsteps, the pain I’m in not reflecting with the sounds. ‘I need to take my meds…’ My room, surprisingly not as messy as I thought. Clothes here and there, an undone bed, but overall everything is where it should be. My legs shuffle into the bathroom connected to my room, locating my paracetamol and prozac.  Click, click!

I think this time I'm dying

I open the paracetamol with ease, it hypnotizes me. Quickly opening the prozac, my breath becomes jagged- confused. Water flows after the pills, hindering the struggle it would have been, but I feel the same. Panicked and afraid. What's wrong with me? Do I need more? Is there something else? I'm scared, pissed off and lonely- ‘I'm overthinking this.’  But am I? Nonetheless, nothings happening. My legs still feel like hell, and the cold invisible hand is pinching the skin behind my neck, but when I claw at it nothings there. My eyes distantly shift to the pill bottles on the counter. I can feel myself trying to look elsewhere, but my general focus is on the pills. I need more.

I'm not melodramatic

Just 1 more of each should do. Just to be safe. I'm just being safe! 

I'm just pragmatic beyond any reasoning 

Better safe than sorry, right? I take another drink of water and wait for the relief to set in, but it never does. My legs are aching even more and the fact that there's no effects is just making me panic more. What's wrong with me? Why isn't it setting in fast enough-?!

For thinking I've got f*cking rabies or something.

More. I need more. Maybe that's the problem, I'm just not taking a high enough dosage! I look down at each of the bottles, reading the label for the prescription. “Take 2 per day when symptoms arise. Contact your psychiatrist if a higher dosage is needed” ‘I know what I'm doing.’  There's something wrong with me, I can't bother contacting anyone. I need relief now. Out of impulse, I down both of the bottles and drink more water to allow the pills to travel with ease. Then, I just wait. 

I think this time I'm dying

Pain shoots up from my stomach and sprouts to my head like a sapling. The room morphs and shifts and scrunches up like clay. Am I in a dream? I look down at my hands to pinch myself, shaking, blurry and full of vibrant colors.   

I think this time I'm dying.

F*ck. 

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

I think I've lost my mind. 

The world morphs and moves without my eyes permission. My stomach hurts more than my legs do. The reflection in the mirror, a pale, sad and confused blur. The pain isn't going away, it's growing worse and worse. Pins and needles pricking and scraping along the inside of my abdomen, there's millions of them. Every deep breath I take is a dulled stab into my chest. Was the original concern as big as I've made it now?

Blurring the fact and the fictions

Everything is so unreal. Why did I do this again? Where am I? My memory becomes a flickering bulb, dying out from being strained of its power. My concept of time and object permanence is foggy, but that's how I know something is wrong. But what? Am I blowing things out of proportion or is this bigger than a prescription?

While simultaneously fixing myself up with a girl named panadol.

I looked down at the empty paracetamol bottle, I did the right thing- right? My intentions feel like they've been beaten and whipped with a fork, scrambled and confused with each other. But I did what I did, it still hurts though. A pang of regret stabs at my throat for a second, but the desire for relief overrides it.

Bite the tablet, elixir

The elixir! My hands swiftly open the cabinet again, desperate for elixir. I quickly find, it- half a bottle of elixir should do. As quickly as I found the bottle, I downed half of it and quickly drank more freezing cold water from the sink.

Disintegrate, mouths a mixer

That's 3 different types of pills. 3 different remedies! I'll be alright now, right? I should be, but I can't stand steadily anymore. My arms are violently shaking and my legs are about to drop. The sight is horrifying, everything is flickering from absolute darkness to furniture and walls melting like an ice cube. Am I blinking? I can't tell.

I think I've lost my mind

I can't handle this. Am I in mild pain or are things dire? I want the pain I had before, less overwhelming. I have no control anymore. The front door opening and closing shut was barely audible for my ears. “Wil? Sorry I came home so late, I had a client come further into the day.”  My legs give in, and a loud THUMP rumbles through the house as I fall onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. I feel the satisfaction of my eyes rolling into my head as my eyelids stay confused on whether or not to close or to stick open to stay alert. “Wil?! Wilbur are you alright?!”  Her footsteps rush to my room and into the bathroom to see my frail and hurt body on the ground with the pill bottles strewn on the counter.

I think I've lost my mind.

“WILBUR!!”  She rushes to my side and drops to her knees. Her shout was so loud, it made me snap back into the present. After checking my pulse and checking if I'm still breathing, she frantically digs through her coat pocket and dials 999. 

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

If I could just break one more night

I can hear my roommate crying distantly after hanging up and putting away her phone. I don't understand...why do I need an ambulance? I was helping myself, wasn't I? 

Maybe I could wake up and feel alright.

I could have gotten past on my own if she hadn't found me. I would have been just fine. I'm tired, just in general. 

I optimistically set my alarm clock time

I had something to do today? I forgot. I can hear my alarm clock from my bedside table blaring at me, screaming at me to get up. There was a subtle jolt of excitement that shot up my neck, or was it anxiety? Fear? Adrenaline? Denial?

Serves only to mock me with flashing lights.

The sound seems to go on for longer, despite my roommate rushing to turn it off. Its turned off, but I can still hear the sound of it echoing through the room, bouncing into my ears. My hands raise to cover my ears, but the sound just gets louder and louder. I haven't gotten up yet.

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

I think I've made my choice

Everything is jumping around slightly, the paramedics in the ambulance looming over me, reaching for tubes and clear pouches. I feel something warm on my right hand, my roommate is sitting there with my hand in hers while trying to keep herself together.  “Don’t worry Wil, they're gonna fix you up and you'll be just fine...!”  She says it like she’s trying to reassure herself more than me- she's more worried about me then I am for myself. One of the paramedics sitting next to her speak up with a clipboard in hand. “You said he overdosed?” “Yes, I came home from work and there was a loud thud from his bathroom. I ran over and he was barely conscious on the floor with pill bottles all around…”

I’m a deceased playing victim

I...I overdosed?  How did I not notice? No no, there was something wrong with me, that's why I took so many! But...was I wrong? I was just scared! I didn’t know that this would happen, its not my fault!

Slip the face, slip the victory.

I can't run away from myself, I’m my own shadow. I was scared. I am scared. This is all my fault. I took the pills, no one forced me to. It was me who did this. But, I’m not too angry with myself. Despite my impulsive actions, I don't hate the situation I've thrown myself into. 

I think I’ve made my choice

If I don't make it out of this, I won't be disappointed. If I do, then that's alright too. I dug myself into this, so don't I deserve to suffer the consequences?

Sit secluded in hatred

I’m such a bother to her, this is the second time she's had to deal with me like this. The hospital probably hates me, but I won't bother to apologize. I meant what I did both this and the last time I was sent there, they shouldn't be helping me. But I’m not suicidal, I insist.

Void the plans friends are making.

I shouldn't have set my alarm. I would have stayed asleep, made things less stressful. Why did I even set my alarm? Nothing special was happening today, I don't have plans with anyone and the only thing I was supposed to do today is work, and that's later in the day. Most of my friends don't even like me that much, they don't invite me to places or acknowledge me so can I even consider them friends? The only person who even tries to pay attention to me is…is…

I think I've found my voice

“I...I’m..-” My roommate quickly looks down at me when she hears me speak. Her eyes show it all, shocked and relieved. Her skin is still puffy and red around her eyes, but she doesn't bother to hide it. “Thank the lord your alright...what were you thinking?!”  She speaks in a hushed tone, intending to not startle or overwhelm me more than I already am. She doesn't deserve this, my paranoia and issues aren't hers. “I’m...I’m sorry..” I hear my voice for the first time in a while, it's gravely and dry. She looks down at me and her features seem to have softened.  “We're almost at the hospital, you're gonna be alright.”

I'm a leech sucking blood bags

I've been living off of her this entire time. My hardships were always nonexistent, weren't they? All of my tolls were never mine to begin with, her generosity is what she replaced it with. And this is what I'm giving her, more and more to deal with. But she doesn't have to, right? It's her choice, it's her fault. I'm not guilty.

Taste defeat, it's a sandbag

As soon as the vehicle stopped, I was urgently rolled out the back and rushed into a hospital room. I can hear the doctors and nurses arguing back and forth rapidly, one after the other.

Saline solution

I hear from the wad of voices.  Hm, so they're desperate as well it seems… My mind decides not to bother with their procedures, instead I just leave it all to them. It won't be on my hands if they fail after all, right? 

Saline solutions to all your

A set of doctors rush into my hospital room while a nurse rolls in a cart filled with who knows what for me. IV tubes are hooked up to a hanging pouch and attached to my arms.

Saline solution to all your

My eyes are squinted from the obnoxiously bright lights scattered in the hospital, the white walls making me develop more of a headache. My head flops to the left, seeing my roommate outside the window in the hallway. She's pacing around frantically with her phone up to her ear. I then turn my head to the right to see a slightly foggy pouch of saline hanging above me, the IV tubes connecting the liquid to my internal damage.

Saline solution to all your…

One of the doctors helps me drink a small amount of the saline solution and then hands me a small trash can. My stomach is crying and screaming in pain and mercy. Tears prick the corners of my eyes from the guttural pain, but it'll be out of my system soon.

Problems. 

[seizethecarpe]

Appetite || Dave and Griffin

Timing: Current Summary: Dave is hungry. Griffin knows the feeling. One is definitely coping better than the other with this.  Content: Animal death

His stomach was bloated. Blubber smeared his hands like oil slick, the breast of his shirt bloodied. His whole body trembled with a growing revulsion as he looked at the carcass laid strewn on the rocks, evidence of a messy meal. Seal fur was caught between his teeth. Less control than a starving dog. He swallowed uneasily, turning and wading into the water so that he might wash off the mess and sin. Jesus christ, there was so much blood all over him, covering his clothes like a coat he couldn’t take off. His stomach felt distended, filled like a stuffed chicken, but still, his mind whispered for more. At this point, it was sheer arrogance that kept Dave  in denial, but it suited him to pretend nothing was wrong. For some reason, he lurched towards land the second he saw a figure moving along the beachside hungrily, long before he realised why he was moving. 

 It was thankless work, looking for floaters, but someone had to do it. As far as Griffin saw it, it was a waste of good brains. Someone had to clean up what with the way the White Crest mortality rate went. Or it was a nice, rose-tinted glasses thought to see it that way. Truthfully, he was just hungry. That’s all it was. Death on White Crest’s shoreline wasn’t unheard of and he wasn’t against sifting through wet sand. The zombie could feel it, the way it tugged at his gut like a rope, and he wandered closer to the water. Something was nearby. Something dead. His teeth ground together. How was its head? Focused on the craving, it took him a moment for the rest of his senses to catch up. Such as noticing that he wasn’t alone and Jesus Christ, the guy looked fucking rough. His eyes flitted from the carcass--was that a seal?--on the rock and the guy coming towards him. Water edged close to his feet. There was something familiar about the movement. The zombie unlocked his jaw but didn’t move himself. “You alright there, guy?”

 Dave strode out of the water without pause, uninterested in whatever the man had to say, knowing only that the feeling drawing him towards the man was insistent and pressing. Maybe he’d be able to help whatever the hell was going on. All he knew was that his instincts were as demanding as a current, dragging him forward by his stomach. Perhaps he could even get a sna-

 Dave inhaled and lurched to a stop, six feet away from the man, who did not smell so appealing at all. His stomach twisted at the thought, still ravenous but repulsed at… at what? He hadn’t been considering eating the man. No one sane would do that, it wouldn’t even cross their mind. But this one… this one smelled like week old road kill preserved by a january freeze. In short: he smelled dead. “Don’t know,” Dave replied honestly, when his jaw started working. “Are you?”

 Griffin’s eyes fixed on the other man in a dead stare. The shuffle, the gait. The way the body moved after something it needed. Mix in a hint of restraint, shake in some desperation, strain it over some ice…The zombie’s head tipped back by a slim margin. He didn’t blink. “Don’t know either,” he retorted. He glanced back to the seal on the rock. Not his first choice but little really was. “...You’re hungry.” It wasn’t a question. It had already been answered when the man stopped dead in his tracks before he could make it to Griffin. Dead meat didn’t taste so good. He lazily gestured to what remained of the seal. “That yours?”

 Dave dragged his mind back from the brink of starvation, sick with how full he was and how much more he still wanted to eat. Under the scrutiny of the man, unflinching and hard, Dave began to feel the first creepings of shame. He didn’t want to eat that kid, nor the woman in the lake, nor anyone else, but it was a need deeper than anything he;d ever felt. Even his hunger for revenge had never been so loud. Even now… would it really be so bad to eat a corpse? It’d taste a little bland, but that human flesh would taste so much better than a seal ever would. For some part of him, it’d still be a step too damn far, and the indecision threatened to tear him apart. Dave staggered, saliva dripping from his lips. “Something’s wrong,” Dave admitted, finally. “Never been like this. Never… not like this. I ain’t some beast.”

 Except now, blood stained, clothes torn, with a seal corpse behind him, he wasn’t so sure. His hesitation wavered in his stoic voice. He looked back at the carcass behind him, his body shaking. “Shouldn’t have done that. She had pups.” His first thought was how delicious those would be too.

 Griffin had never seen someone hunger for seal before. It was an interesting choice, to say the least. He wondered why that was. There were easier things to grab. Rats, the neighborhood dog, a raccoon or two. But it wouldn’t be the same. It never was. Even after he got his fill of Homeward Bound, there would always be that...emptiness. The zombie fixed the other man with a calm look as he dug into the pocket of his jacket to grab a handkerchief. Old habits, he thought to himself, before he tossed it over. “Yeah, ‘course you’re not,” he said honestly. “You’re just hungry.” 

 He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he thought, eyes on the seal’s corpse. 

 “Did you…” What was a good way to ask if someone had died? He hadn’t quite learned that one. “What happened to you?”

 Dave Dave caught the handkerchief out of instinct, and looked down at the crumpled material with something approaching shame. It already picked up blood stains from his fingers. He wiped the corners of his mouth, and a fatty strong of blubber smeared into the cloth along with all the blood and spit.

  "I don’t know," Dave admitted hoarsely. I don’t know. I woke up hungry a few days ago, and I keep eating, but it keeps getting worse. Like… like I’ve got some sort of parasite. I'm full, damn near bloated, but I'm still hungry." Ravenous. Ready to eat decaying meat even as it offered him a tissue. Dave could barely fit another thought in his mind other than the crushing command to eat. Like if he didn't, the very thought might consume him surer than a mermaid's bite.

 "You're dead," he stated after a long moment. "I'm not… I'm not going to eat you. I… it's fucked, I want to. I won't." Probably. He took a step back into the water. "We're not… we're not like that."

 “I am, yeah,” Griffin muttered, pale brow creased. “Seems like you’ve still got a pulse. Probably. Did anything...bite you?” He understood having the hangups, even if this man wasn’t...dead. Like him. There was a little confusion brewing in him at that. It took time to break down the mental barriers in place to prevent, or strongly discourage, people from eating one another. Like the whole idea of you could bite through your finger like a carrot if you really wanted to. Griffin wasn’t sure on that one. He and carrots hadn’t seen each other in awhile. He huffed a laugh, an odd sound in the quiet they shared marked by death and famine.

 “Thanks. I’m not gonna eat you either,” he said with a wry smile, then a slight rise and fall of his hand. “It was like this at the start for me too. Just a diner and...more people.” He gestured around him, a fanned out motion, before he glanced down and worked his jaw. “It gets easier,” he said. “The, uh, eating. You don’t think about it as much. It’s always there but it’s not...you always, you know?”

 Dave nodded slowly, as if he was briefly unconvinced by the assertion about his own pulse. At the question about whether he’d been bitten, Dave frowned, looking at the unravelling bandage on his arm that he wasn’t supposed to get wet, that he should have changed earlier in the day. It was increasingly hard to remember he had a body that needed caring for. Right now, he was more hunger than man. “A werewolf. It should make me sick, not anything like this,” Dave said, lowering his arm again, licking his lips as he looked at Griffin again. “Shouldn’t eat people. Shouldn’t eat seals, not like this.”

 “How does it get easier? I’m getting hungrier every day. My stomach’s fit to burst, but it’s like I haven’t eaten in weeks.” Dave insisted still, not realising how intently rude he was. “I’m not like you. The hunger- it’s not supposed to be like this. Not for me. We don’t… We don’t lose control.” He looked at the carcass behind him, entrails bobbing in the waves. They weren’t the signs of someone in control. He shuddered, dropping to his knees on the hard rocks, rubbing his face like he might snap himself out of it “I have to get away from here.”

 Griffin eyed the bandage. He wasn’t an authority on much, if anything at all, but he knew hunger. The death that followed it. It usually started with teeth and it ended, whenever it ended, the same way too. A werewolf. Right. Those were around too. It was becoming apparent that his knowledge of strange and unusual was frustratingly limited. A byproduct of avoidance. He frowned to himself before he echoed what the man said. “A werewolf? How do you know that it’ll just make you sick? I’m not...familiar with ‘em.” The question came from his own curiosity and the strange, sympathetic notion that maybe if the man talked about it, it might help. Wasn’t that what people said? Fuck if he knew what people said. The man seemed really hung up on the seal. “You shouldn’t eat seals like this?”

 “Maybe easier isn’t the right word,” Griffin admitted. “It gets more manageable. It’s all just... meat in the end. That’s all it needs to be.” All it has to be. The zombie held the man with pale eyes, his own pallor sickly and drained. Not the flash fever that this man seemed to be going through. As the man stumbled some, Griffin took a confident step forward and held out a hand. “You haven’t tried to eat me yet so...control.” He lifted and dropped a hand with a shrug. The step made the carrion call in his gut a touch louder. “Whatever this is, it’s different. I’ve never gone for seal before but...” He stopped himself. “There somewhere you can go?”

 Dave turned his head to look at the man looking over him, squinting at the sunlight shining in his eyes. Griffin’d never had a craving for seal, but Dave would bet his home that Griffin had died a human, before. Dave… well, Dave’d never been human. Maybe the werewolf had been a werewolf zombie, it’d explain the strange healing and the surviving being shot to a face. Dave panicked and touched his wrist,k but his heart was still beating loud and strong. For now. “Control. Feel like I’m holding on to that with a thread.”

 “Got my van,” Dave said quietly. Picked up a pebble worn smooth by the Sea. She didn’t do that to folks, she wore wrinkled into their faces and callouses into their skin. The quiet texture grounded him. “Too many towns nearby. Too many humans.” Dave rubbed his face. “Too much temptation. I need to get away away. Maybe on a boat. Ride this out. It shouldn’t work like this.” Because if he waited long enough, right, it had to go away. Washed away like the hard edges of his rock.

 “You’ve still got your mind,” Griffin said as he tapped a finger against his temple. “That’s something. Use both hands to hold onto that one.” A sardonic smile came and went. A funny thing for a zombie to say, he figured. The pull of the dead was strong. Had been ever since he moved closer to the man. A few more steps, water up his shins, and he was on the seal carcass. Crouched beside it and fingers prepped to peel the meat. At the mention of too many humans, Griffin picked his eyes up from the meat and cocked a brow. His tongue pressed against his bottom lip before he nodded in understanding. 

 “No humans here,” Griffin said with a puff of needless breath through his nose. “Haven’t been that for awhile.” The meat was slick in his fingers and when he swallowed it down, there was just a hint of salt. It wasn’t bad but he kept that thought to himself. He almost felt bad for the seal but it was dead now. It couldn’t feel anything. All it had left to do was rot and feed. It might take time for the man to understand that. If what he was going through lasted that long. “Do you think a boat’s a good idea? Where more...seals are?” He wiped the gore against his bent knees. “It’s your call but…” He paused and scrutinized the carcass, then looked at the man again. “This...hunger. It’s, ah, hell. But if you…” He hadn’t done this in awhile. “You’re not like me, we established that, but I get it. This.” A loose gesture was made between the carcass and the man standing. “If you need help...somehow, I don’t fuckin’ know, I’ll try my best.” More dead meat was torn between his teeth. “...That’s all.”

 “Barely,” Dave replied gruffly. “For a while, huh?” It was like the hunger had filled every inch of him, and now with nowhere else to fill, it had begun to squeeze him out like putty through a sieve. If it pushed hard enough, Dave wasn’t sure there’d be much left of him. He frowned as Griffin leant in to eat the carcass too, nearly tearing the zombie away. He wasn’t allowed. But then neither was Dave, and at the very least like this nothing would go to waste. Her body would be used whole, the way it was meant to be. “Out in the open water’s away from most things. Seals included. Better than this, it’s got to be.” Better than calling out a hunter. Better than admitting something was wrong that he couldn’t fix.

 “S’a kind offer. More than I deserve.” Dave grabbed Griffin’s arm sharply, squeezing tightly. There was hunger on his mind, thick as soup. Every second it mattered less that Griffin was less fresh than the carcass on the beach, that he was being kind and fucking understanding. There was a desperation to Dave’s hunger, stuffed full of flesh as he was. Nothing was hitting the spot, not fish nor squid nor seals. He needed to try something new, something better. “I think. One of us oughta go.” Before he tore out Griffin’s throat. His nose wrinkled, he looked back in disgust at the thought of wanting to eat anything, anyone, but mostly at the thought of eating anything so rotten.

 But his stomach gurgled loud of enough for even him to hear. He couldn’t quite get himself to let go. 

 “Yeah,” Griffin said. “A while.” He didn’t want to further elaborate and he was sure that Dave got the gist of it. One nearly empty cup of half-and-half, that’s what he was. He continued eating until the man grabbed his arm and he stopped. The grip was tight, desperate. There was a war happening behind the man’s eyes, the kind that cracked ribs and split flesh. Griffin nodded again. “You go where you have to go,” he said. “Wherever is...comfortable. To figure this out and shit.” And then tell me what that’s like, when you find this Shangri-La, he thought bitterly to himself. Such places didn’t exist. Wouldn’t ever. Not with things the way they were.

 As delicately as he could, Griffin unfurled Dave’s hand from around his bicep and stepped away from the seal carcass. Before he walked away fully, he pocketed his dirtied hands and glanced back. “I’ll see you around. Don’t forget my offer, huh?” Or yourself. The hunger had a way of eating at the self too. With a slim smile and a faint wave, the dead man was gone.