#and now im halfway through writing it down and i suddenly want to die

[unyearn]

empty night sky save me

[thedeathdeelers]

I finished my first rewatch of lovely runner🥲 and I'm still not over it heh (and I don't want to be 🫠😂) so I was rewatching the scene where Sunjae and Sol meet right after Sunjae remembers everything (God just the angst of that *chefs kiss) and oh my God the tremble in Sunjae's voice when he asks her if she cried like that everytime she was lonely. Byeon Woo Seok's so good! This drama just keeps on giving 😭

thank you for this because it gave me the chance to rewatch that scene specifically 😌 for science 😌

(but ayy!!! now onto the second rewatch!!) (but yeah i’m halfway through my rewatch but i’ve slowed down so i can avoid reaching the eNd again 🥲)

honestly everything about that moment was SO. WELL. DONE.

the lead up??? a masterpiece. the memories pouring in while sunjae tries to keep up, his eyes his facial expression feeling like it’s all too much but everything suddenly makes SENSE - the heartache the joy the confusion the undERSTANDING the despERATION

lying there on the street not even aware he nearly died- purely cause he’s drowning in everything sol!!! and then!! HE RUNS. HES RUNNING AND HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO!! he just needs to GET TO HER ASAP AND NOT LOSE HER AGAIN HE JUST HAS TO GET TO HER

i can’t even begin to imagine what he must’ve felt when he first lays eyes on her — like she’s not in his memories anymore- not the sol in all those different timelines, not the sol from this timeline when he didn’t recognise her

she’s here. she’s real. and he’s out of breath and his mind is a massive mess and his soul is exhausted but she’s here

and he’s starting to truly realise what she must’ve gone through…::repeatedly. having to see him die having to run around with all that burden on her shoulders

not telling anyone

making the decision to start all over again and keeping her distance from him- all alone. no one to confide in- not even him

his heart breaks - cause he knows what it feels like to live a life without her — both when he knows she exists and when he doesn’t

and he knows how horrible it is — but sol knew him and loved him and lived a life where he loved her too….and yet had to go through 15 years denying herself that joy and love and connection to keep him safe…such a massive selfless act..

all for him.

and now he’s staring at her out of breath with red eyes and tears rolling down her cheeks and he knows why. he finally knows the answer to the question he’s always asking her “why are you crying? did i do something wrong?”

he knows the answer…::and it’s not a happy one

AND NOW HE GETS TO SEE IT LIVE IN ACTION IN FRONT OF HIM- she’s obviously been crying and she’s trying to deny it and he realises this has been her life for the last 15 years….,.,,,…

“did you cry like that all the time? while missing that guy who forgot all about you?” screaming crying throwing up

(we have to give massive props to sol / hye yoon for the way she conveys emotion. it’s wild. insane. soljae wouldn’t exist without her and her incredible acting) (and the way she lets go of all the pain and longing and all those built up emotions that she’s been carrying with her the moment he says “sol-ah” istg)

like. i was fine before i started writing this but now im losing my mind a little sat at my desk in front of my excel sheet….

[cloudycleric]

hi a wip for my fic ive been writing for over a year (we reached 20k words today (im not even halfway done))

Will looked down at the table. What to do, what to do… He had effectively trapped themselves in the café.

Mike looked around as the two sat in silence for a couple of seconds. Finally, he asked, “Do you want to go to the game store with me?”

“Now?” Will asked.

“Yeah,” Mike replied. “It’s just across the street.”

“But it’s still raining,” he pointed out. “We don’t have an umbrella.”

“So?”

“So,” Will continued, “we’ll get drenched.”

Mike thought about this. “Not if we run.”

“But then we’ll slip and fall and eat shit.”

“I’ll catch you.”

“What if you don’t catch me?”

“I will.”

A pause.

“What if we get hit by a car?”

“Then we can sue the shit out of the driver.”

“But what if we die?”

“Then we go to heaven and spend the rest of eternity with each other,” Mike said, “and we can go back to the Estate as ghosts and haunt it till my dad goes crazy.”

Will smiled. He knew it was dumb and illogical, but Mike had refuted all of his points. He sighed. “Okay.”

Mike beamed. “Yes. Yes. Awesome.”

The two boys stood under the awning as they tried to both muster up the courage to run across the street and calculate the perfect moment to sprint. Will looked nervously at Mike, but he was too busy concentrating on the road. Will supposed Mike didn’t get to do things like this very often.

“Okay, I think we’re clear,” Mike said, eyes glued to the street. He held out his hand, expecting Will to take it.

Will hesitantly took his hand.

“I’ll countdown, so you know when to start running,” Mike explained, watching cars pass by, splashing the puddles collecting on the sides of the street.

This really wasn’t that big of a deal, and the longer that Will sat outside and watched the normal cars in this normal town drive normally through rain, the more silly it felt. It’s not even like the cars were going fast, he guessed that maybe they were going thirty-five miles per hour at most. But Mike was too focused, and plus he told Will to hold his hand, and Will would never turn down a Mike Wheeler hand-holding opportunity.

“Okay,” Will said.

“And that way, I’ll catch you if you fall and we can keep running, and if push comes to shove I can drag you across the street.”

“Yeah, like you could drag me—”

“Okay-three-two-one-go!!” Mike said in a blur, and suddenly a strong force was dragging him out from under the awning and into the pouring rain. Mike lept of the curb and into the street, pretty gracefully, which Will found surprising. His feet made a big splash under him that drenched Will’s pants as he struggled behind him. He most definitely was going to eat shit at this rate, his footing still awkward and his other arm wobbling behind him.

“Oh shit,” Will said, trying to catch up.

“A car’s coming!” Mike said like he was three years old playing pretend at a playground.

But the street wasn’t that long, and at this point the pair was at the other end, nearing the sidewalk. That didn’t mean that Will had his balance, however. As Mike reached the gutter, he let go of Will (making him even more unstable). Then he swiftly turned around, grabbing Will’s hand again and his arm as he tried to stabilize him. His catch turned into what was half a hug, half an awkward hold. But it worked—Will didn’t fall.

“See, I told you I would catch you,” Mike said, still holding Will. Neither boy moved.

Will was extremely flustered at this notion, as one would most likely be if they were in this situation with their own crush, but what Will was more focused on finding out was whether or not Mike felt the same static that he did. When Will looked at Mike’s eyes, he didn’t see that feeling on his face. But what he did see was Mike’s big goofy grin, a pure joy. They both laughed, rain still falling around them, making their efforts to run across the street pointless as they both started getting drenched.

Neither one of them cared.

[jennifercheckwannabe]

So this is something I wrote a bit back but it's still pretty accurate. Anyways what triggered me to write this was knowing perhaps if i express what im still going through hopefully someone else wont fall for my ex and make that mistake🤣💀 bc trust me the bitch makes dahmer seem sane:

I sit here thinking I finally have you out of my system, not being under your control anymore

But as I sit I check the blank screen waiting for something more, the unanswered messages I get too overwhelmed to read start to pile up and I notice myself suddenly knee deep in a landslide of how your presence still bears its mark on me.

How I cannot follow a conversation without losing complete train of thought halfway through, the level of anxiety I get when facing a window seat at a restaurant because it reminds me of you, how i all.but avoid every phone call now because all i can see are the nights where you were my only solace... How instead of overflowing with wanting to share and be loved and heard I find myself getting quieter at every impulse to reach out.

Muting myself as if it can take away the soul crushing void I feel inside, feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin at the thought of letting another person touch me because what if they hurt me as you have, in such a deep irreparable way.

Despite needing to scream and burn and make every pain I've gone through because of you ten times worse, I stay silent because inherently I am too much. That is the message I was given, that every thing that used to be wonderful about me was suddenly a nuisance, suddenly I was a burden when you had promised you would always love and want me. The hollow promises that you made still ring in my ears, I've tried to move through my pain and come out on the plus side but all I can see is how I'm going to be hurt again. How deep down no one stays with me because they want me, but instead bc they need what I give them. Unconditional love and acceptance and understanding, letting my hollowed out self give endlessly to others while I slowly die more inside every day.

You haunt me in every damn aspect of my life, there are so many triggers and people I now avoid just because they have some similarity to you, how I have almost entirely lost my life because of you. And that is still a thin line I'm constantly walking, edging between knowing I have to stay for others, and my soul screaming for a quiet release, to finally cease all this pain and horror that my mind replays.

All of the things you ruined for me, even my own body repulses me again in such a deep way that I had finally thought wasn't going to haunt me forever.

All I see in others now is the red flags that I'm going to be hurt again, and so I pull into myself more. As if I tried hard enough I could become invisible, and fade from the scenery of life and finally find a cease to my pain.

There is a rage inside of my that boils so deeply it scares me, so strongly that I know I could do unimaginable things if pushed much farther. So instead of letting it be I try to tame it and mask it into something beautiful instead of yet another thing poisoning me.

My soul is tainted from the murdered love that I had, drowned in the deepest way that makes me know I will not fully trust how I trusted you ever again. How can a human inflict such a heartless death upon one they supposedly loved will never make sense to me.

There is a void inside of me, filled with emptiness and all of the shards of my broken love. Unending and all consuming, I fight it daily and now the battle is being won, but there are no Victor's to this battle, only death awaits it is simply a matter of who can last the longest, fighting tooth and nail for a life that I no longer have the will to fight for. Knowing I'll only be happy once there is nothing left but charred bones of the foundation our love could have made. Despite knowing you deserve a horrible place in hell for what you've done, that broken part of me still screams that I had just wanted us, to be together and to be happy. But what really killed me in the end was my love that you never knew how to hold, so instead you threw me away like every replaceable person in your meaningless life. I don't have the words for the level of evil you are, the pain you spread leeches into everything like poisoned runwater, and I am only surviving trying to stay clean from you.

[roadkillxd]

( im 18+, cis male reader! )

could you write something that’s somewhere along the lines of the reader catching their partner cheating on them with someone else at a party? they storm out angry and upset, order a spree driver which happens to be kurt :)) .

dom!kurt && maybe some overstim (he still has his murderous intent for the reader until he realizes what happened to them. the rest is up to you! twist the prompt up however you’d like!)

Alright, so maybe I got halfway through this and remembered this was a dom!Kurt prompt... he had a moment of clarity, okay?

↪ 2260 words — 18+ / SMUT — tw for panic attacks, mention of infidelity, crying, man-handling, and mild body hair kink.

Content tags — cis male submissive reader / cis male dominant Kurt / car sex, handjobs, blowjobs, penetrative sex, anal sex.

It’s the last way you expected the night to go—two years, just thrown out the window so your partner could get laid. You hadn’t even wanted to come to the party in the first place, but maybe it’s better this way. At least you know, now, that you weren’t good enough for them.

You desperately blink through the tears, vision blurry with the wetness as you fumble to order yourself a Spree ride. You’re trying not to think about it, the fancy LA mansion you’re standing outside of rumbling with bass-heavy music that makes your stomach flip. 

You’re still crying when the Prius pulls up to the curb in front of you, messy and gasping. You probably look like trash, but you don’t care at this point—hastily climbing into the back of the car. 

You shrink into yourself a bit at the number of cameras rigged up all over the car, the LED strips a blinding pink that makes your eyes burn even more, squinting against the harsh light. 

“Hey! Y/N, right? I’m Kurt! And you’re going to—woah… hey, hey—” you glance up at the driver as he swivels in his seat to look at you, his mouth twisted up in a frown, brow furrowed. He must be used to people climbing into his car crying, so you don’t know why he’s suddenly honed in on you, “are you okay? What happened?”

His voice is surprisingly soft, and while his tone is mostly genuine there’s a strange edge to it—like he really doesn’t care if you live or die—like he’s just asking to satisfy his own curiosity. You glance at one of the cameras. Or to maintain some kind of image. 

“Just drive, please,” you murmur, hiccuping on a sob and averting your gaze from his own—wide and peering. He stares for a few seconds longer, giving you one last double take before turning back to the road. He silently messes with the GPS screen to make sure he’s got your location right before pulling back onto the road. You settle in for the thirty-odd minute ride back to your house.

“There’s some water back there, if you want. Crying can dehydrate you, you know?”

You nod absently, making no move for the water. You sniffle as you stare down at your hands tucked snugly against your lap. Your phone buzzes incessantly with texts from your partner, shifting along the curve of the seat before clattering to the floor. You don’t even bother to look at it as it continues its vibrating little journey underneath the passenger seat.

“Uhm, I think you dropped something,” Kurt tries, glancing at you through the rearview.

“I got cheated on,” you blurt out, a desperate attempt to lighten the weight crushing your chest, “at the party. The one I came from. I caught my partner cheating on me.”

You can see Kurt’s face fall in the mirror, a deep frown settling on his face. His eyes are steady on the road, “I’m sorry, th-that really sucks…” he says softly. This time there isn’t any hidden agenda to his voice, no hint of ingenuity, “I had, uhm, a girl… cheat on me once, and it—I know it’s not a good feeling. Like, being lied to, and all the insecurities and stuff with it,” he shrugs absently. 

Another wave of tears streams down your face, your bottom lip wobbling as you try to swallow down the noises attempting to escape, puffing your cheeks out and holding your breath. There’s a million thoughts and memories rushing through your head, crushing you beneath their weight. You close your eyes tight.

“Y/N?” You make out Kurt asking, his voice far off and muffled. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears. You feel light-headed, not even registering how your body slowly sways back and forth, “Y/N!” 

You rock forward as the car suddenly comes to a stop. You open your eyes, your hand unconsciously gripping at your chest as you realize you’re hyperventilating. You press yourself against the seat, trying to catch your breath as Kurt scrambles out of the driver’s side and comes around to the back. 

He throws open the car door, climbing in until he’s essentially straddling you. “Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he rushes out, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. You bring your own up and grip his wrists tight, not pushing or pulling, just attempting to ground yourself, “look at me, t-take a deep breath.”

You keep your eyes shut but inhale long and shaky. He counts out your breaths, his thumbs wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. His touch is surprisingly soothing, his palms cool and soft against your heated skin. Your broken heart longs for more contact, your hands trailing from his wrists to wrap around his torso, pulling him flush to you and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Th-there you go,” he sounds a little surprised, but not uncomfortable, rubbing gently at your back. He doesn’t seem to mind how you pant hot and wet against his throat—your tears and snot staining the hem of his shirt—instead nuzzling further into you like a cat.

Your breathing finally starts to steady and even out, your tears drying up as you sniffle a few more times. Kurt leans back just enough to reach down under one of the seats, pulling a small pack of tissues up and handing a few to you. You take them with a murmured “thank you,” and wipe the mess off of your face. 

“There we—there you go,” Kurt smiles. He’s still pressed to you, his face so close you have to strain your neck a bit to look up at his owlish eyes staring back down at you, “good as new.”

You notice absently his hands are gently placed on either side of your neck, resting tentatively. Your gaze flickers to his slightly parted lips, pink and chapped. He’s cute in his own awkward way and he watches you like he actually sees you. It makes the back of your brain tingle with want. He’s more your type than your partner—your ex-partner.

Fuck it, you decide, reaching up to fist a hand in his damp hair, smashing your lips together. He makes a surprised little noise that has you grinning against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip to coax out another similar whimpering sound. He kisses sloppy and inexperienced, but makes up for it with enthusiasm, breathing heavy through his nose as he angles your head back to deepen the kiss. 

You can already feel him hard against you, grinding the tent of his jeans up and down your stomach as he moans and whines into your mouth. His lips fall slack and you lick past them, swiping your tongue over his teeth just to feel his body shudder. 

You fumble with his jeans, popping the button and unzipping them with haste. He gasps as you reach into his briefs and pull out his prick, flushed and sticky with an obscene amount of precum. You stroke his cock, breaking the kiss to watch how his foreskin draws over the cherry-red head only to bunch up again as your hand slides up and down his shaft. 

He has a hand pressed loosely to his mouth, vaguely muffling the whimpering moans he makes as you touch him, his hips rocking back and forth with your movements. His prick dribbles out globs of pre, creating a wet slapping noise with each stroke of your hand.

He looks so pretty, eyes clenched shut, flushed head to toe and dripping with sweat, his free hand gripping tight at your shoulder. You trail your fingers up under his shirt, pushing at it until it’s bunched up above his pecs. You can’t help but nuzzle your cheek against his thick chest hair, tongue peeking out to lap and suckle at his nipple, earning you a shocked gasp.

You feel his cock twitch in your hand and quickly pull away.

“W-why’d you stop?” He whines petulantly, brow furrowed and jaw hanging slack as he stares down at you incredulously. 

“Wanna suck you,” you reply simply, gripping his hips to urge him into laying down along the length of the backseat. 

“Oh,” he breathes as you work his shoes off, followed by his jeans and boxers. He’s hairy all over—in such sharp contrast to his boyish face and lithe frame—and it makes you groan low and appreciative. 

“Oh!” He repeats on a moan as you lean down and enthusiastically lick a stripe up his twitching cock. You trail up to his swollen head and suck him down, enveloping the entirety of his dick in your wet heat with ease, wasting no time in setting a steady pace bobbing up and down the hot, hard flesh. 

Kurt scrabbles for a grip on anything he can reach, pulling at your hair, your arms, the headrest, the seatback.

“Not gonna—I’m, oh shit,” he stammers out, hips bucking. You moan around him as his cockhead bumps the back of your throat, “g-gonna cum!” 

You shuffle to your knees, changing the angle so you can take him to the root, your nose pressed against his dense pubes, lips stretched wide around his cock as he comes with a shout. You can feel the thick stripes of cum shoot down your throat, swallowing around him to milk every last drop. 

His thighs shake with the overstimulation and your lips pull up into a lazy smile around him. You feel a hand grip tight in your hair and it’s like a switch flips. Kurt yanks you off of his cock, eliciting a groan caught between pain and pleasure. He uses his other hand to twist you around, shoving you onto your front. 

You grip the edge of the seat as he yanks your shorts down to your knees, his hands roughly spreading your cheeks before he spits, a hot glob of saliva landing directly on your hole making you moan. He rubs the spit in with his fingers, admiring how your pucker glistens in the pink light of the car. He quickly slides a finger into your hole, setting a fast pace as he thrusts it in and out of you. 

“Y-you’re kinda loose,” he comments offhandedly, slipping a second finger into you, “do you do this a lot?”

You moan whorishly, rising on your knees ever so slightly to rock back onto his hand. He doesn’t seem to know exactly what he’s doing—doesn’t even try crooking his fingers—but just the feeling of having something sliding in and out of you is good, your cock hard and twitching between your legs.

“You really like this, huh?” You can hear the grin in his voice, your head hanging heavy between your shoulders as you pant. A third finger pushing in punches a high-pitched keen out of you.

“Holy fuck, Kurt, please,” you pant, his free hand gripping your hip for leverage as he thrusts the three digits into you hard and quick, “just fuck me already, baby, fill me up with your cock.”

You gasp as he pulls his fingers free, his blunt cockhead replacing them only seconds later, pressing hard and unrelenting against your hole until it pops in. You both groan, Kurt draping himself over you, propped up on his hands as he slides into you. 

It’s a lot to take all at once, and he gives you no time to adjust before he begins to buck into your ass fast and brutal, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own noises while you moan and cry out beneath him. 

The sound of skin on skin and panting fills the air, the car rocking side to side with the force of his thrusts. You reach down to stroke your cock and are silently relieved that he doesn’t try to stop you, too caught up in his own pleasure to even notice. 

He fills your hole so perfectly, the slight curve and swollen head of his dick stimulating your prostate just right as he sloppily shoves in and out of your dripping clutch. You can feel a puddle of drool gathering at the dip of your shoulder blades, his lips spread wide and panting wet against your skin. It drips down the crevice of your back, sending a hot spark of pleasure up your spine. 

You feel your balls draw up tight, twisting your fist over your sensitive cockhead as you clench down around Kurt’s prick. The both of you come almost simultaneously, Kurt filling you up with his cum as he finishes with a nearly silent, squeaking whine. His cock kicks hard inside of you, nudging roughly against your sore and abused prostate, forcing another spurt of cum from your throbbing prick. 

You collapse flat against the seat, grunting when Kurt follows by landing on top of you. The both of you pant, trying to catch your breaths, your skin uncomfortably sticky and wet where it touches. Your hole feels puffy and abused, but your mind tingles with the afterglow, your body lax. 

You nearly drift off before you feel Kurt’s cock give an interested twitch inside of you, slowly starting to fill out within your oversensitive walls as he lazily grinds into you. You whimper pathetically, rolling your head to the side to peer back at him. 

He gives you a dark look, in sharp contrast to his gentle smile as he leans down and presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss just behind your ear.

“We’re not done yet.”

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n, tubbo and jack - we built a boat

requested: yes/no

this is part 10 to the great adventures series

you didn’t actually expect to be filming a vlog with tubbo and jack today, you were spending one of you last days away from home with lani at the beach, not knowing that tubbo and jack would make you join them. you ended up finding several rocks you liked and ran off to pick them up thinking tubbo would like them, so you put them in your pocket. whilst you were collecting rocks, lani was on the phone to tubbo letting him know you were actually at the beach if he wanted you to join him in the vlog.

“wait y/ns there? put them on the phone.”

“they’re in the water.”

“why?”

“ill ask, Y/N WHY ARE YOU IN THE WATER?!”

“I FOUND A ROCK THAT MATCHES RANBOOS BRAND BUT A WAVE TOOK IT AWAY FROM ME AND IM NOT LETTING POSEIDON WIN!”

“yeah they’re fighting Poseidon, where are you going to be? ill bring them to you.”

few minutes later you made your way to lani drenched in water.

“i fell…stop laughing!”

“im not!”

“you’re eyes are literally watering because you’re holding in your laughter, anyway look what i got you!”

you placed a clear quartz crystal and a piece of sea glass in lanis hand.

“thank you y/n!! wait this isn’t like your other rocks?”

“i know!! it’s clear quartz and sea glass. i felt like you should have it! i think it’s because i won the battle with Poseidon!”

“you fell.”

“shut up!”

“are you staying at ours again tonight?”

“think so… wanna turn the crystal into a necklace?”

“definitely!”

lani ended up taking you to where tubbo was, but didn’t tell you what was happening, you only found out when you looked up to see jack recording you and lani.

“hold up, guest appearance.”

“oh hi lani…y/n, guess what?”

you looked down to see the boat.

“oh fuck no!”

you walked away laughing, tubbo followed after you dragging you back to the others.

“they said they can’t wait to go on the boat with us jack!”

“how likely is he to be able to build this?? how likely are me and y/n going to drown??”

“uhm good chances!”

“of what?”

“lani, am i going to live or die?”

you laughed as lani walked away shrugging.

“tubbo how much money did you spend on this…”

“£50.”

“oh great i’m drowning today!”

you stood next to jack tilting your head as tubbo attached the sail to the pole.

“just remember if you two die, i’m in your will.”

“i didn’t write a will.”

“well that was your first mistake y/n did!”

“tubbo gets my rock collection, tommy gets whatever he wants just not the rock collection, ranboo gets whatever tommy doesn’t want, and you get what ranboo doesn’t want.”

a few minutes later you helped tubbo put the sail up whilst jack stood filming you both.

“this looks unsafe..”

“and muddy.”

“it’s unsafe and muddy but we’re trying our best.”

“jack didn’t do anything.”

“rude!”

you stood next to lani trying to convince her to go on the boat so you didn’t have to as tubbo tried to lasso jack. after being told no several times, you stood with jack whilst tubbo began to tie a figure of 8, you watched as tubbo began teaching you how to actually tie a figure of 8 using a really morbid story.

“…heh”

“why was that so morbid?”

“we like death on the tubbo channel!”

“i want to go home!”

“no!”

“okay!”

the three of you began to carry the boat out to the sea, however you crashed into something straight away.

“could be worse…could have hit a member of the public.”

“IM TRYING!”

“i can tell…it’s not good enough but i can tell.”

“…TO HIT SOMEONE!”

“NO!”

“my bad T bo!”

“what the fuck did you call me?”

as you were getting ready to go down the ramp, lani looked directly at you and tubbo who were now trying to push each other into the water.

“try not to hit little people in the water!”

“little people…”

“shall we waterproof up?”

you turned around a minute later only to have tubbo holding his phone up to your face after annoying jack with it .

“say hello.”

“hi there , please send help. i’m going to die!”

“ignore y/n, they’re just dramatic..i wouldn’t let them drown.”

you helped tubbo get the boat into the water as jack filmed the pair of you .

“it’s cold.”

“i’ve been in here before…i fell.”

“how cold was it?”

“very.”

“the weed of the sea is in my feet.”

“ew! what the fuck!”

lani noticed you had all let go of the boat and yelled at you all to grab the boat before it left you all behind, jack, and tubbo got in the boat, however you refused as lani kept yelling that the trailer was on.

“oh we’ve left the trailer on.”

“that’s what lani has been saying.”

tubbo got off to untie the trailer and you stood nervously laughing as the wheel fell off .

“i'm actually going to die!”

“it’s fineee!”

you helped jack get out the boat, so you could all fix the boat.

“he thinks we could be doing better.”

“i think everyone could think that.”

jack got on the boat first, then tubbo, who then helped you get onto the boat.

“off we go!”

for the first five minutes, the three of you sat yelling at each other what you all should be doing to make the boat go forwards.

“i quite like this.”

“we’re not moving!”

“exactly!”

soon enough you had figured it all out and waved goodbye to the others after they gave you a thumbs up.

“TO FRANCE!”

“so now what do we do?”

“pray.”

“heh?”

“to what?”

“god..say your final goodbyes we’re going to die!”

“hey that rhymed, you’re a genius!”

at this point the boat had completely stopped moving, however tubbo didn’t think this was the case, and began trying to turn the boat around as it was apparently going to shore, despite the fact you and jack were telling him you all hadn’t moved.

“so what’s the sail for?”

“i mean jack has a point you are paddling.”

“luck!”

“….HEH?”

“y/n you talk to technoblade too much.”

“i’ve been saying heh before i met tommy, what the fuck?”

“jack go up to the front, so y/n can sit next to me.”

jack moved and you sat next to tubbo.

“so how long does it take to go to france?”

“ahh you know, about 20 minutes.”

“how fast do you think we’re going bud?”

“on a, on a, on a train.”

“how would you get the train?”

“i don’t think the train can go across this..”

rather than answering that question tubbo decided he made a hit list.

“we’re going to just go through here.”

“…through where?”

“between the people.”

“NO!”

“you’re creating unnecessary danger.”

you and tubbo started bickering about why he suddenly decided that he was going to hit a bunch of people with the boat for no reason.

“fine you take control y/n!”

“tubbo you were going to kill them!”

“that’s just part of the sailing life!”

you just stared at tubbo shaking your head slightly, trying to process what just happened, then all of a sudden tubbo got up and put you in charge of controlling the boat. you were surprisingly good at it, which was lucky for tubbo and jack who were now leaning out of the boat claiming that they were hiking. they only stopped when the boat began to go faster and noticed you had no idea what you were doing.

“y/n is going to be the reason we crash!”

“yeah i will!”

“why do you sound happy about that?”

“eta france?”

“any second now.”

you decided to focus on making sure the boat was going where you wanted it to go, whilst the others yelled out to the sea occasionally yelling phrases in french as they claimed they could see the french. well you think tubbo was yelling phrases in french, however halfway through you were convinced he started just yelling things in a french accent as he revealed he didn’t actually know french, resulting in jack asking to go to russia as he knows russian.

“y/n, sail is to russia!”

“you know what i don’t wanna drive here you go jack it’s your turn.”

“I DONT KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!”

“we’re sick of this shit aren’t we y/n, jack take that…you’re on the wrong side switch sides with us.”

you all swapped sides and you and tubbo sat with your arms around each other instructing jack how to sail .

“yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“thats good now turn us and we’ll be in the wind.”

“we’re about to catch the wind.”

“JACK MANIFOLD GET READY!”

you all swapped sides again and tubbo whispered in your ear, as you sat next to him, about making the boat capsize so jack would go into the water, jack ended up doing a lot better than you and tubbo did, and you all actually started going pretty fast. however, there was absolutely no way you’d get to land any time soon. you sat laughing with tubbo whilst jack yelled about how he was a fisherman, and that’s why he was doing so well and how he studied their fins so he could find out how fish swim.

“for a £50 boat it’s done us well, look we’re sailing, the water cleaned the boat.”

“we havent died.”

“im a little wet, but not too bad.”

“must be nice.”

“oh yeah you fell earlier.”

“how?”

“they were fighting Poseidon.”

“huh?”

“they probably found a rock they liked and went to get it but it ended up in water.”

“…yeah.”

you all ended up catching the wind and tubbo decided to make you and jack do reaction images.

“help girl, i don’t know how to sail.”

“okay jack your turn, drive and film.”

“hey look i’m filming and driving!”

“no film me and y/n!”

jack filmed the pair of you, tubbo had his arm around you to prevent you from falling out of the boat as you had a habit of leaning out the boat to touch the water. you had no idea what to do so ended up copying tubbo, the pair of you took off your hats .

“tips fedora…what do you want to name our boat?”

“tubboat!”

“no way..”

“THE TUBBOATS REAL NOW!!”

it was around now you and tubbo claimed you were all drifting out to sea, and to just let the wind take you wherever it wants to, whereas jack claimed the boat wasn’t moving at all. you pointed at a boat which was moving a lot quicker than you were.

“HES GOT WIND!”

“WHERES OUR WIND?”

“he stole our wind.”

“we’re stranded jack,y/n.”

you noticed lani and waved out to her.

“LANI!”

“jacks sailing, hes getting sailing tips from my cousins!”

“great can he take us to land?”

“no.”

“YO WERE ZOOMING!”

“i hope we don’t capsize..”

“why would we?”

tubbo looked at you and you nodded back at him.

“hey jack we’re gonna tip this boat!”

and with that the pair of you stood up and began tipping the boat over whilst laughing.

“SUCKER WERE STILL DRY!”

“tubbo i’m about to fall!”

tubbo grabbed your hand keeping you up on the boat with him, you both even managed to get back in the boat without getting wet.

“no, if i’m in you have to be in too.”

jack pushed tubbo into the water tubbo then went on to pull you into the water with him.

“NO!”

“IM FREEZING!”

tubbo helped you onto the boat first as this was the second time you ended up in the water, and you were quite clearly cold, he got on after you. you sat on the boat as he filmed the outro and jumped back into the water. once jack ended the recording, you reached out your hand to tubbo helping him back onto the boat. the way back to shore was you and tubbo clinging onto each other trying to warm up, and the three of you making shit jokes, and enjoying each other’s company. you even made a few more plans for when ranboos in the uk. few hours later you had said goodbye to jack and went back to tubbos house, tubbo let you shower first while he stayed with lani as she streamed.

“chuck your clothes outside the door, i’ll put them in the dryer whilst you shower. you can change into these.”

tubbo gave you a hoodie from his merch collection that would be dropping soon, along with your pyjama pants, 30 minutes later you sat with lani whilst tubbo went off to shower, lani ended up finishing the stream after 15 minutes.

“wanna make the necklaces lani?”

“i’d love to!”

not long later tubbo joined the pair of you.

“oooh tubbo i got you some more rocks, they're over there with your phone.”

you ended up making a couple of them into necklaces for him, so the the three of you had something to help you remember the day.

“y/n, i hope you’re enjoying your stay, youll practically be living here for a few month soon.”

“wait their parents said yes?!”

“what are you all talking about?”

taglist:

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

[sluttyminghao]

testing his patience | j.ww

w.c: ~1.5k genre: hehe smut request - anon:  omg just had a thought... reader wearing a skirt with no panties sitting on wonwoos lap during a movie night with svt pairing: wonwoo x female reader a/n: this request....my god I have no words except I want this,,, also I kinda wanna write a part 2 to this? Let me know if you want me to!!

Every Friday night, you would pull up to the dorm where the seventeen members resided for your weekly movie night. Every week without fail, there was an argument over what kind of movie you guys would be watching, and every single week, the movie ended up being some weird action movie you had never heard of. 

However, you wanted to change that with this weeks movie night. You had had it planned out for the entire week, excitement growing in your stomach as the day grew closer. Your boyfriend Wonwoo, had been pestering you about it all week, texts about what genre the movie was, what you were going to wear etc etc.

What you didn’t tell him however, was that you had a special surprise planned just for him. You smirked as you pulled up to the driveway, pulling your skirt down a little further on your thighs. Wonwoo had never seen this skirt on you before, but you knew it would drive him crazy. 

Upon knocking on the door of the dorm, Jeonghan opened the door and gave you a beaming smile. You smiled back as he let you in, exchanging small talk with him as you walked down the hall towards the room where you would all be situated for the movie night. As you both entered through the doorway, a chorus of ‘hello’s’ and welcomes filled the room, saying your hello’s back to them. 

Your eyes scanned the room for your boyfriend, and when you finally found him, situated in a dark corner and covered with a blanket, he gave you a small wave and beckoned you over. Upon seeing your appearance closer to him, you noticed a darkness glaze over his eyes, before he raked his eyes up and down your body again before opening the blanket up and letting you sit next to him.

Perfect, your plan was starting to take effect.

You and Wonwoo had not been able to have sex much recently, mainly due to him being so busy with his schedules and upcoming promotions with the group. He always managed to make time for you though, texting you when he could through the day, sending photos and seeing you for your weekly movie night. Other than that, everything else had been lacking, and you were finally starting to feel the implications that came along with it.

You were so so needy, to the point of wanting to beg Wonwoo to take you right then and there under the blanket. You knew better then that however, which is why you planned to tease him under the blanket until he caved and fucks you senseless. This was also why you planned to not wear any underwear under your skirt.

You just hoped he was feeling the same way, and luckily for you, he was feeling the exact same.

“I picked the movie for tonight, I hope you guys don’t mind, I’ve wanted to watch this for a while”

Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow at your statement; normally you were just content with watching whatever the other members had picked, and it was unusual for you to be this direct with the group. He watched as you slowly got up, purposefully swaying your hips in his face to get a rise out of him. He sucked in a breath as you did so, his pants were going to start feeling really uncomfortable soon if you kept this up.

As you put the disc into the DVD player and the intro screen started up, you heard lots of groans and whispers, along with every single one of the boys gawking at you when you turned around. A blush had crept across your cheeks at this point, and you knew that Wonwoo was staring at you with a hard gaze that left arousal pooling between your legs and becoming slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh grow up, it’s just 50 Shades of Grey, you wont die from watching it”

Another chorus of moans and someone say “yeah but my dick might” sent you into a fit of laughter, hands grabbing your sides as you walked back to where you had been sitting before with Wonwoo. He eyed the skirt you were wearing again, before licking his lips and sinking his teeth into them, eyes grazing over your body for the nth time that night. 

When you reached your spot with Wonwoo, he all but yanked your arm down so that you were now situated on his lap rather than beside him, an arm snaking around your waist to keep you seated there. Some quizzical looks were seen from some around the room from the members, but you just smirked as you hit play on the movie.

About halfway through the movie, half of the group members had either fallen asleep or were so intrigued with the movie that they were sitting and watching slack-jawed, too interested to pull away. You had noticed that Wonwoo’s grip on your hips had tightened slightly, and could feel a slight bulge growing from underneath you. You turned towards him with a smile and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, him giving you a hard stare before pulling you in and whispering in your ear so no-one else could hear.

“What the fuck kind of game are you playing right now? Did you set this up?”

You just smirk and kiss him once more, giving him the confirmation that he needed. He slowly shifted one of his hands up your thighs, hands ghosting over where you wanted him so badly. You moved a hand down to sit on top of his hand, guiding him towards your naked core, where he hissed slightly at the contact of skin straight away.

“You dirty slut, you planned this all along”

He immediately placed a hand on your pussy, running two fingers through your soaking folds. You slapped a hand over your mouth as he found your clit and rubbed it harshly, trying to elicit a moan from you. His mouth found purchase on your neck, sucking a hickey into it lightly.

He was relentless in his torture, and only made it worse when he entered a finger into your entrance, causing you to let out a small whimper, and the remaining members who were awake turned to look at you curiously. You shot them a smile to let them know you were okay before they turned back to focus their attention on the movie. 

“That was a close one sweetheart, don’t want them to hear your pretty moans while im finger fucking you hm?”

His dirty talk was slowly sending you over the edge, you now rocking back onto his fingers as they continued their ministrations on your clit and in your entrance. He moved his lips back to your neck as he sucked another hickey into your neck, now trying to get you to cum all over his fingers. 

You were so, so close to going over the edge, you just needed one more push and you would be in euphoria. The euphoria finally hit you just as Wonwoo entered a second finger into your entrance as his other hand rubbed your clit, you slapping your hand over your mouth once more as you whimpered lightly, the feeling washing over you and stars dotting your vision.

Wonwoo lightly fingered you through your orgasm as you came down, shaking on his lap. A sigh left your lips as he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his pants, a small smirk present on his lips as he did so.

Suddenly, the lights had turned on and the other 12 members were looking at you both, some gawking and some smirking. Seungcheol was standing near the light, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked at u both.

“If you’re going to do that, can you at least move into a different room? There are still children present!”

He motioned to Seungkwan, Vernon and Chan who were all bright red on the cheeks, and Chan gawking at you. Vernon turned to him and gently pushed his jaw shut, before a flurry of conversations started as the movie had now ended.

“With pleasure”

A whisper in your ear made you shudder as Wonwoo stood up and pulled you after him, pulling your skirt down and grabbing your hand to take you to his room. Whistles and clapping were heard as you left, and Wonwoo just flipped them off before opening the door and practically shoving you inside.

“I think we need to finish what you started in there sweetheart”

His voice had dropped an octave and the lust was raging in his eyes. You knew you were going to be in for a long night ahead.

[kaistarus]

Mistexting Mayhem

Pairing: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 1.6K

Summary: You accidentally send Nishinoya a text that was meant for Yachi and now he’s knows secrets you were hoping he never found out

A/N: If you think this fic is anything but crack you’re wrong lmao I’ve always wanted to write a fic with this style and Noya is great for the chaos i needed. It was fun

Masterlist

[6:40pm] idiot⚡: look y/n without adhd id be too powerful

                         i could beet god himself in handtohand combat

                         god was afraid of my raw fuckin awesomeness wen i bursted from the woom

[6:41pm] y/n: there is so much wrong with what u just said

[6:41pm] idiot⚡: i have absoltly no clue wat

[6:43pm] y/n: put those 3 brain cells to work. I believe in you

[6:43pm] idiot⚡: but theyve reached their daily quota

                          plz there so tired and overworked

You snorted, a dopey smile on your lips as you laid surrounded by textbooks and homework, swinging your feet in the air behind you. You focused intently on the cell phone in your hand doing everything you could to procrastinate the schoolwork around you.

[6:44pm] y/n: noyas so stupid

[6:44pm] yachi❤: i thought you liked him?

[6:45pm] y/n: jeez Yachi. dont come for my throat

                       i cant help that i have bad taste 🙄

[6:46pm] yachi❤: if it helps he tripped over a stray ball today

                               maybe think of that till you don’t like him??

Unfortunately, the image of Nishinoya waving to everyone then biffing it only had you smiling like a dork. How you’d gotten to a point that Nishinoya being an idiot made you swoon, you’ll never know.

You raised your eyebrow suspiciously at the new notification on Snapchat from ‘Tanaka’ and after swiping it open you nearly dropped your phone. Looking back at you was Nishinoya, his head tilted and eyebrow quirked in confusion with a gari-gari kun shoved halfway down his throat. The caption at the bottom reading ‘daaaammn look at your prince charming go 😩’.

You frowned at the picture, letting out a frustrated groan at how your heart accelerated against your ribcage. You quickly tapped out of it and reopened the messenger app.

[6:57pm] y/n: we have to kill Noya

[6:57pm] idiot⚡: we??? what kind of mission is this??? 😤

[6:58pm] y/n: i like him too much. he has to die. its for my own good

You waited impatiently for her response and almost debated doing your homework since it took longer than you felt necessary. You supposed you had suggested murder to Yachi, but still…

When you finally received a response your entire body froze.

[7:11pm] idiot⚡: U LIKE ME?!?!? 😍

                          UR KILLING ME?!?! 😢

                          IM SO CONFUSED......

                          and a lil turned on ngl👀

Your hand covered your mouth in horror as you processed what the hell you had just done. This didn’t happen to people in real life. Mistexting was stuff people made up when they created fake texts for social media to get likes. You didn’t think people actually went through this.

You opened new notifications to escape the hell that stared you straight in the face.

[7:15pm] Tanaka💪: Yo, whatd u do. Whys Noya having a panic attak

[7:16pm] y/n: I accidently texted him instead of Yachi and told him i liked him 😣

[7:16pm] Tanaka💪: O wtf thats hilarious 😂

[7:17pm] y/n: ITS NOT HILArIOUS

[7:18pm] Tanaka💪: Hes askin if its a prank. Wat do i do?

[7:19pm] y/n:I DONT KNOW SDKFHJN IM THE IDIOT WHO STSRTED IT

He stopped responding and you banged your head against your pillow anxiously.

[7:23pm] y/n: YACHI ITOLD NoYA I LKED HIM AND NOU HE NOS WAY DO JI DO!?!????! 😭😭😭

[7:23pm] idiot⚡: THIS ISNT YACHI!!!!

                           HOLY FUKC U DO LIEK ME!!!

You screamed into your pillow. Were you fucking kidding? This could not be happening.

[7:25pm] Tanaka💪: dude, twice? i cant save u now 🤪

[7:25pm] y/n: betraying me in my time of fucking need? i’ll remember this asshole

[7:26pm] Tanaka💪: so vulgar 👀

You growled at Tanaka’s uselessness and bravely peeked through one eye as you went back to your conversation with Nishinoya.

[7:24pm] idiot⚡: STOP IGNORING ME I KNO UR TEXTING RYU

[7:26pm] idiot: IM GONNA KEEP SPAMMING U TILL U ANSWE RME😤

[7:26pm] idiot⚡: 1

                          2

                          3

                          4

                          5

                           6

                           7

                           8

                           9

[7:27pm] y/n: what is this twitch chat? fuck 

[7:28pm] idiot⚡: your heeeeererererreee 🥰

[7:29pm] y/n: soooooo………..

                        clearly there has been a misunderstanding

[7:29pm] idiot⚡: oh nonono. I understand PERFETCLY. u LOVE me

                         its ok. this is a safe space. we can discuss feelings 😌

[7:31pm] y/n: there are zero feelings to discuss

[7:31pm] idiot⚡: then y did u say u like me too much so i have to die?

[7:34pm] y/n: i am filled with rage 🤬

[7:34pm] idiot⚡: rage over how much u liiike me???🥰🥰🥰

[7:36pm] y/n: definitely not

You racked your brain for some kind of reasonable sounding excuse, eventually landing on:

[7:36pm] y/n: It was autocorrect

[7:36pm] idiot⚡: HAH????? FROM?????

[7:38pm] y/n: HAH???

                       ....Nora?

[7:38pm] idiot⚡: Who TF is nora???? 😡

[7:39pm] y/n: someoe i like obviously 😏

[7:40pm] idiot⚡: so u like them but u use my name so much it autocorrected to me? 🤔

[7:44pm] y/n: OK MR DETEcTIVE WHERE TF ARE THES BRAIN CELS COMIN GFROM?

[7:45pm] idiot⚡: i pull them out for special ocasions 😌

[7:45pm] y/n: well how bout you pack those up and put em away

[7:46pm] idiot⚡: how bout two people who LIKE each other SAY something so they can DOOOOOOOO something bout IT 🙄

You began typing a frantic message about how it was none of his business until you processed the message. Then you read it over several times before letting out an audible, “what the fuck.”

[7:50pm] y/n: YOU LIKE ME

[7:50pm] idiot⚡: I FLIRT WITH U ALL THE TIME WAT DO U MEAN yOu LiKe Me!?!

                          FUCKING OBVIOSLY

[7:51pm] y/n: literally when. name one time.

[7:52pm] idiot⚡: I WALK WITH U EVERY MORNING!!!

[7:53pm] y/n: I thought that was a coincidence???

[7:54pm] idiot⚡: I BRNIG U SNACKS DURING LUNCH!!!

[7:54pm] y/n: I thought they were leftovers??

[7:55pm] idiot⚡: …....I call you cute and invite you to my games.

[7:56pm] y/n: you call everyone attractive and i thought there was like a audience quota or something........?

[7:57pm] idiot⚡: ….i cant tell who i should be upset with rn but i think its u 😑

[7:58pm] y/n: WAT WHY!?!

[8:00pm] Idiot⚡: I LIKE U+U LIKE ME=WE LIKE EACH OTHER

[8:01pm] y/n: whoa. slow down. I hate math 😣

[8:02pm] Idiot⚡: ===WE SHUD GO ON A DATE!!!

[8:02pm] y/n: HAH!? i think you started multiplying that addition problem buddy 🤨

Your cheeks were beginning to ache from how wide your dopey grin was. You couldn’t help but tease Nishinoya-it was second nature at this point-even if you now knew your feelings were mutual.

[8:04pm] idiot⚡: i suk at math but thats NOT the point

                         point iiissss i think deep down u want to hang out and cuddle and fall in love

                        maybe even..... 😏 kiiisssss

[8:04pm] y/n: WHOA WHOA WHOA

                        WARN ME BEFORE YOU GET NSFW

                        i would never premarital eye-contact. let alone k🤢ki-🤢🤢kiss🤢🤮🤮

[8:05pm] idiot⚡: well we would have socks on 🙄

[8:06pm] y/n: oh. well if there’s protection

[8:06pm] idiot⚡: Im not a maniac

[8:07pm] y/n: i suppose as long as you dont do something stoopid

                        like faceplant in public

                        that would be humiliating

[8:08pm] idiot⚡: I-

                          who told you that 😠

[8:08pm] y/n: i have spies everywhere noya

                        youre never safe

[8:09pm] Idiot⚡: kinda hot 👀

                         makin me fear for my life like that👀

[8:10pm] y/n: i hate that i like you

                        It kills me inside 

                        i feel braincels leaving with every conversation

[8:12pm] Idiot⚡: fan behavior 😏

                          so am i taking u to eat tomorow or wat?

[8:14pm] y/n: if I HAVE to 🙄

[8:14pm] Idiot⚡: No u GET to

                          I am a fucking delite 😤

[8:15pm] y/n: whatever helps you sleep at night

[8:15pm] Idiot⚡: nothing helps me sleep at night. this mind never rests

[8:16pm] y/n: thinking 24/7 and still not a smart thing comes out of that mouth 👀

[8:17pm] Idiot⚡: yas, bully me more 😫

[8:19pm] y/n: ok thats as much as i can handle for one day......

                       im gonna pretend to do homework

[8:20pm] idiot⚡: okie... good luck my sweet baby pogchamp 🥰

[8:20pm] y/n: no

[8:20pm] Idiot⚡: 😘😘😘

[8:22pm] y/n: 🙄✋

[8:23pm] Idiot⚡: oh FUCK yas 🥵 shut me UP

[8:25pm] y/n: suddenly all i feel is endless regret

[8:26pm] Idiot⚡: i have that effect on people

                          See you tomorrow 🥰🥰🥰

[8:27pm] y/n: unfortunately 😘

[8:27pm] idiot⚡: 🥵

You flung an arm over your eyes and let a small giggle bubble up from your chest. Nishinoya was probably the biggest idiot you’d ever met, but you couldn’t help that thinking of spending time with him had you kicking your feet with excitement.

You supposed you should actually get started on your homework. You reached forward when a notification popped up from Yachi, asking if her idea worked and you had stopped liking Nishinoya.

...you should probably break the news, huh?

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Here’s the ask to answer for your next try, lol. If only the people knew what we’re doing..

I don’t know what you’ve been planning with this, but I am scared.

Make me cry, Vaunna. Good luck!

we went for the happy kind of cry last time and it did not work SO here’s the soul-destroying kind of angst :3 good luck everybody

btw this is an AU to my fanon. it is in no way canon, it’s just a thing i thought might make Raven cry so :3 (and honestly im super proud of it so im happy whether or not it succeeds LOL)

a/n: bc a lot of my helsmits have the nickname Hels now, i’ve decided not to shorten their name to Hels when i’m writing them so that’s why Helsknight is continually referred to by his full name. sorry if it’s kinda awkward but it’s the way i wanna write it :)

…

Emerging from the forest, Wels takes in a deep breath of fresh air and sits down on a rock, the Yes Wings Club building in sight. After a nice walk out here with his hels counterpart, he needs to rest his legs for a moment.

“What is this?” asks Helsknight, approaching his counterpart with a thin pink object in his hand.

Wels glances up. “Oh, that’s an allium. It’s a flower.”

Helsknight stares at it for a moment. “What’s it for?”

“It looks pretty.”

“It does look pretty,” agrees Helsknight. “But is it functionally useful?”

Wels thinks for a moment. “It helps bees make honey. And you can give it to someone you like to show that you like them. But really, it’s just pretty.”

“Huh. Back in Helscraft, nothing exists just to be pretty.” After a moment, Helsknight sighs. “If I was in Helscraft, I’d just toss this back on the ground. Useless.”

“You’re not in Helscraft anymore,” Wels responds warmly. “You’re in Hermitcraft. If you like the flower, you should keep it. Useless doesn’t necessarily mean worthless.”

“That’s… That’s true.”

After a moment, Helsknight offers the flower to Wels, who gives a pleasantly confused frown. “What are you doing?”

Helsknight coughs awkwardly. “You, uh… You said you can give flowers to someone you like. I like you. Kind of.”

A wide grin appears on Wels’s face as he accepts the allium from his counterpart. “Aww. I think you’re actually starting to fit into Hermitcraft life.”

“How dare you,” Helsknight deadpans.

Wels laughs. “It’s not so bad. You seem a lot happier now than you were a few weeks ago. Maybe sometime soon, we can go ask Xisuma if you can be properly integrated into Hermitcraft.”

Helsknight stares at him hopefully. “Really? Do you think he’ll say yes?”

“If he sees how much you’ve changed and how valuable a member you can be, I think he might!”

“Wow…” Helsknight gazes down at the ground. “I can’t believe it might actually happen. I might never have to go back to Helscraft again.”

“If I have my way, you’ll stay here forever,” says Wels. “Anyway, you said you wanted to spar, right? It’s getting close to sunset; we’ll have to go home soon.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, let’s do it.”

Wels jumps up from his perch and the two start sparring with their swords. Within a minute, Helsknight sweeps Wels’s legs out from under him, causing him to crash to the ground, losing his weapon. “Hey!” Wels yelps. “That’s cheating!”

Helsknight laughs as he points his sword at Wels. “I believe that’s called a checkmate.”

Wels chuckles back and is about to respond when they both hear a voice scream Wels’s name from the direction of the Yes Wings Club building.

“Impulse?!” gasps Wels. “What is he-?!”

“Get away from Wels!” Impulse yells, charging at Helsknight with a sword. As the helsmit was not expecting an attack, Impulse is able to knock the sword out of Helsknight’s hand with no trouble.

“Impulse, don’t!” Wels yelps, struggling to get up. “He’s good now! He’s not evil anymore!”

But Impulse is already attacking Helsknight, who is unable to properly defend himself without a weapon.

Wels scrambles to his feet. “IMPULSE, STOP! HE’S NOT A THREAT ANYMORE!”

As Helsknight stumbles, Impulse lunges, clearly not thinking straight, clearly just trying to defend Wels from what he perceives to be an attack on his friend.

But he’s going to kill Helsknight. Forever.

So Wels shoves Helsknight out the way of Impulse’s attack. Impulse tries to stop his strike but it’s already too late.

Impulse’s blade pierces the centre of Wels’s chest and goes straight through the other side.

Letting go of his sword in shock and horror, Impulse stumbles backwards.

Helsknight quickly catches Wels as the latter’s knees sag and he lowers his counterpart to the ground, pulling out Impulse’s sword and tossing it away. He tries to stop the bleeding but it’s no use; the wound is too severe.

“Wels, I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I’m so sorry!”

Wels grasps weakly at Helsknight’s wrist, causing the latter to lift his torso up onto his lap. “Hels, don’t blame yourself,” Wels whispers. “P-Please. This was m-my choice, okay? Mine.”

“Wels…” Helsknight gazes down at his counterpart with anguished eyes. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“B-Because I like you,” rasps Wels with a weak smile. “Kind of.”

Helsknight squeezes his eyes shut, not trusting himself to speak again.

Finally, he feels Wels’s hand slide off his wrist, and he knows it’s over.

Welsknight was slain by impulseSV

Several seconds go by.

“Wh-Why isn’t he respawning?” Impulse croaks, starting to panic. “Why is his body still here? WHY ISN’T HE RESPAWNING?!”

Helsknight gazes down at Wels’s body with tears in his eyes. “I… Part of me didn’t think it was actually real…”

“WHAT’s real?” demands Impulse, his voice shrill with panic.

“It- It’s called the Hels Curse,” Helsknight explains shakily. “If a helsmit is directly or indirectly responsible for their counterpart’s death, their counterpart won’t respawn. It’s- It’s permadeath. And the curse is extremely specific, so it doesn’t matter that you were the one who killed him. Because you were aiming for me and he pushed me out of the way, I am indirectly responsible for his death.” Helsknight hangs his head and gently touches Wels’s shoulder. “He’s gone. Forever.”

His chest feels so heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that his best friend is dead. Wels loved Helsknight so much that he willingly sacrificed his life for him. That thought alone is enough to make a few tears flow from his eyes.

For the first time in his life, Helsknight is crying.

But after a few seconds, something springs to his mind and he hurriedly wipes his eyes. There IS something he can do. Another mechanism of being a helsmit that he can use here.

“This is your fault!” Impulse screams suddenly, kicking Helsknight away from Wels. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

“Wait wait wait wait!” yelps Helsknight, frantically backing away from the furious hermit. “I can save him! I can save him!”

Impulse freezes in the process of picking up his sword. “What?”

“There’s a thing called the Altruist Failsafe,” Helsknight explains hurriedly. “Helsmits are created from the energy and lifeforce of their hermit counterparts. That’s why the curse exists: when a helsmit kills a hermit, they absorb the rest of their lifeforce, which is why they don’t respawn. But it also means they can give their lifeforce back to their hermit counterpart.”

Impulse stares at him suspiciously. “Are you saying you, an evil hermit, would sacrifice your life for Wels?”

Helsknights nods earnestly. “Wels took the blow you aimed at me. I was meant to die, not him. He deserves to live, not me. I can’t live in this world without him.”

With that, he moves over to Wels’s body and kneels down by his side. Impulse steps back, watching him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Helsknight presses his hands to the centre of his chest and closes his eyes. After counting to three, he slowly moves them away from his chest, drawing out a small glowing red heart.

This is Helsknight’s lifeforce and without it, he can feel his strength already draining away.

So he quickly but carefully moves it down to Wels and pushes it into his chest the same way he had drawn it out of his own.

Immediately, Wels’s body starts to glow.

Helsknight rises unsteadily to his feet and staggers a few blocks away. He kneels beside the rock Wels had been sitting on earlier and props himself up against it, gazing up at the stars one last time.

They’re so beautiful.

Impulse, kneeling at Wels’s side, watches him. He watches Helsknight’s chest stop moving. He watches the light leave Helsknight’s eyes.

And at the same moment, Wels’s eyes open and he takes in an involuntary breath.

“Wels!” Impulse gasps. “You’re alive!”

Wels blinks in confusion, his gaze flickering all over as he tries to register where he is. “Wait, what happened? I-I’m supposed to be dead.”

“Helsknight gave his life for you,” explains Impulse quietly. “Some kind of… altruist thing, he said?”

“Oh-!” Wels’s heart freezes as his gaze lands on the limp body of Helsknight, propped up against the rock. Oh no! Nonononononono!”

He scrambles over to Helsknight and lifts his body onto his lap, trying desperately to awaken his counterpart. “Hels! HELS! NO!”

As it becomes increasingly obvious that Helsknight is dead, Wels hugs his body close to him, fighting back tears. “Why, Hels…?” he croaks. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“I’m sorry, Wels,” Impulse whispers, standing a few blocks behind Wels. “But… But you’re alive now. Isn’t that the best outcome?”

It takes Wels a few seconds to register what Impulse just said. “W-What…?! No!”

“A world where you’re dead and your hels counterpart is alive is not a good world, Wels,” says Impulse gently.

“I don’t care!” Wels’s voice cracks halfway through his sentence. “There’s a reason I jumped in front of your sword!”

Impulse, clearly taken aback by how furious Wels seems to be at him, gives a deep frown. “Wels, I don’t think you understand: you were permadead! You weren’t gonna respawn!”

“I KNOW!” Wels roars. “Hels told me about the curse!”

Impulse’s eyes widen in shock as he realises what his friend is trying to say. “Y-You were really okay with permadying for him?”

Wels carefully lowers Helsknight’s body to the ground and stands up to face his friend. “YES because HE would’ve permadied if you’d killed him! You just don’t LISTEN, do you?! I tried to tell you!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I saw him attacking you and I thought-!”

“I TRIED TO TELL YOU HE WASN’T A THREAT!” bellows Wels, unleashing all his grief and fury. “I TOLD YOU HE WAS GOOD NOW! AND YOU KILLED HIM ANYWAY!”

“I just wanted to protect y-!”

SLASH.

impulseSV was slain by Welsknight

Wels collapses to his hands and knees, his sword falling to the ground surrounded by Impulse’s items. He’s just killed his friend, but he no longer cares. Impulse will respawn. Helsknight will not.

He can’t believe Helsknight is gone. Not just gone but he sacrificed his life for Wels. He remembers Helsknight telling him about both the Hels Curse and the Altruist Failsafe. Part of him always knew he would die to the Hels Curse, but he never expected both of them to come into play within minutes of each other.

After a moment, he picks up Impulse’s shovel and starts to dig a hole in the ground not far from Helsknight’s body. When this is done, he carefully lifts his counterpart’s body into the hole and gently places Impulse’s sword in Helsknight’s hands, arranged so that the blade lies pointing towards the foot of the grave.

He sits back on his heels and takes a deep breath, letting tears fall from his eyes.

“Whenever death may surprise us, let it be welcome if our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear and another hand reaches out to take up our arms,” he says hoarsely, reciting an old soldiers’ prayer that he had learned during his service.

With that, he methodically fills in the hole and sticks his sword in the ground above its head as a makeshift gravestone. And as a final touch, he plants an allium over the site. The allium that Helsknight had given him just half an hour ago. When everything in the world was good and the future felt bright.

As Wels turns to leave, he spots an iron sword lying on the ground a little way off. He realises with a jerk that it’s Helsknight’s sword, lying where its owner had dropped it when he had been attacked by Impulse.

He picks it up and inspects the blade. A memory of Helsknight crafting this sword resurfaces and what he was talking about as he did.

If our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear.

He recalls the way Helsknight spoke about Helscraft back then, how it’s a horrible place because the universe gave the best worlds to Hermitcraft and abandoned Helscraft to fend for itself. How passionately he spoke about wanting to create a better life for his Hels siblings.

And another hand reaches out to take up our arms.

His hand closes around the hilt of the sword and he lifts it aloft, closing his eyes against the rain that has started to fall from the darkening sky, as if the server itself is weeping for Wels’s loss.

“I’ll fight in your name, Hels,” he vows. “I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain.”

[simpsiren]

closer to you

lee jeno x reader

main masterlist

the sequel

description. you’re in a 2 year relationship with jaemin. the two of you know very well that you arent each other’s soulmates but you still felt that jaemin was the right one for you. that is until you are celebrating your 2 year anniversary with jaemin that memories of you being with someone else in your so called “past life” starts coming back to you, as if wanting to make you realise that your soulmate is still out there.

genre. soulmate au, strangers to lovers au, fluff and angst

warnings. none? except for the fact that reader becomes violent in their words when they’re stressed i guess

a/n. literally got this idea from the flashback tiktoks thats been appearing in my fyp. like ive seen it so many times that i just had to write about it HAHA alrighty thats all enjoyy :D

when the idea of soulmates was first represented to humans, humans deeply believed in it, and would follow the idea of it religiously to find the one that they are truly meant to be with. however, now in the modern day, the idea of soulmates is slowly disappearing. people still believe that the number engraved on the side of their right foot is the time and date that they’ll meet their soulmates, but people of this generation start ignoring that fact, marrying someone that isnt even their soulmate. it left their actual soulmate to either die alone, or having to force themselves to love and marry someone else other than their soulmate.

and now here you are, surrounded by your friends with jaemin sitting next to you, your boyfriend of two years who’s number on the side of his foot does not match yours.

“blow out the candles already!” you hear johnny screaming. you and jaemin turn to look at each other at the same time, giving a smile before blowing out the two candles on the red velvet cheesecake that signified your two year relationship with jaemin.

you laugh loudly as everyone claps for the two of you. jaemin quickly places a peck on your cheek, making everyone smile widely. “i love you.” jaemin whispers into your ear.

“i love you too.”

“do you really not care who your actually soulmate is? you know very well jaemin isnt yours.” you purse your lips into a thin line as you find jaehyun leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“does it look like i care? who the hell even cares? ill be with who i wanna be! i aint gonna follow some ‘oh you’re destined to be with this guy’ type bullshit.” you giggle to yourself as you took a sip the whiskey in hand, despite already being in a very drunken state.

jaehyun walks over to you and snatches the glass away from you. you whine and beg for it back, but you know all too well that jaehyun is not going to give you what you want. you let out a huff in response.

“my god, evaline. how drunk can you be?” jaehyun takes a seat on the chair that faces your bed, in which you are currently rolling on and mumbling to yourself about god knows what.

jaehyun sighs as he looks at you. he’s been your friend for almost forever yet he still cant get over the fact that no matter how hard he tries to persuade you that jaemin isnt your soulmate, you give zero fucks about it.

“i really hope he comes in your dreams or something. if i can’t convince you, then why isnt the world doing anything about it?” jaehyun whispers to himself, resting his chin on his palm as his elbow is placed on the arm rest of the chair.

you wake up with a sharp pain in your head. you wince as you slowly tried to sit up straight. you rub your eyes and try looking around your room. everything is normal, except for the fact that jaehyun is sleeping on your chair. you shrug your shoulders as you let out a long sigh and stare at the door in front of you, spacing out for a little. after at least five minutes of you doing nothing and staring off into who knows what, you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed. you stagger your way over to jaehyun.

“jae, wake up already. make me something to sober up- ouch!”

your foot suddenly hurt, making you stumble back and fall onto the floor. you flinched in fear when you realise the number on your foot is glowing. you scream in pain as you feel as though something thin and sharp is constantly stabbing your foot. the spinning in your head only made it worse. jaehyun wakes up from all your screaming and drops down on the floor to assist you quickly.

“evaline? eva! what’s wrong? wait why’s it glowing..” jaehyun eyes travel from your scrunched up face to your leg, noticing the number that’s glowing.

suddenly, your vision became blurry. you lost sight of what’s happening around you. you dont see your room and jaehyun in front of you anymore. you struggled as you try to squint your eyes to get your vision to be clear. it took awhile for your vision to come back. and when it did, something wasnt right.

it was like you were having a flashback. a flashback to a time you were unfamiliar with. you didn’t remember experiencing it at all. but the flasback looked like memories that you feel a sudden strong connection with.

the flashback was vivid. you couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. you saw a guy, estimated to be around your age, who’s smiling widely till his eyes form a thin line and holding up a polaroid camera to your point of view. you heard him laugh as snaps a picture and the camera’s flash shined your view. you soon focused your vision again onto the guy. he’s waiting for the film to develop. and that’s all you saw. a small snippet of a far distant memory which you arent even sure if it happened.

after that, you snapped out of your odd trance. you feel jaehyun shaking your shoulders with the look of extreme concern on your face. you bring your hand up to your head and scratch it slowly as you tilt your head in awe. jaehyun stops his actions as looks at you wierdly.

“what the fuck did i just experience?” you mumble to yourself, trying to process what you just went through. you look up from the floor to see jaehyun blinking his eyes rapidly.

“you saw what?”

you were this close to slapping jaehyun in the face.

“how many times do i have to fucking repeat myself?! i got a flashback of a memory of some random dude that i dont even know about!”

jaehyun’s mouth remains open in shock and confusion. it took him a few seconds to process your words. and when it did, he places both his hands on the table.

“its a sign.” your forehead creases as you look at him weirdly.

“the fuck you just say?” you pick up your fork and stab it into your freshly cooked fried chicken meal.

“is this the first time you experience it?” jaehyun asks you as he takes a sip of water. you took a moment to think about it.

“yeah it is.” you breathe out. jaehyun only nodded his head. he starts thinking about what he wished for that night had something to do with what happened to you.

“you know what? forget it. i need to meet up with jaemin for our date. ill see you around.” you finish what’s left on your plate, waving to jaehyun before leaving the restaurant.

jaehyun watches your back as you slowly disappear into the distance. “it cant be... can it?” jaehyun shakes his head and continues eating.

“hey, babe. how was lunch with jaehyun?” jaemin wraps his arm around your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“it was good. let’s get ice cream.” you give off a wide smile and dragged jaemin to the famous ice cream shop that you were dying to try.

by the time you were halfway to finishing your ice cream, it was already 8pm. you’re weekly ice cream date with jaemin never fails to be extended as your chats with him grow longer and longer with every date.

as jaemin was talking, your mind goes back to the time you had that odd flashback. you wonder what it meant, or whats the significance of it. why did that suddenly happen to you? what can you do to make it go away? because for all you know, you have everything you need right here, in front of you. you had jaemin.

“eva? hello~?” jaemin waves his hand in front of you to snap you back into reality. you shake your head vigorously. “oh shit im sorry jaemin what did you say?” jaemin smiles softly as he repeats over what he say.

it was about 10pm and you decided it was finally time to go home. you would have taken the train alone but jaemin insisted on accompanying you home and going back by himself after. you and jaemin were walking down the street that will lead to your apartment when jaemin sudden opens his mouth to ask you something.

“did you ever believe about the soulmate thing?” you stop walking and turn your body to face jaemin. jaemin does the same, shoving his hands in his pockets.

you shrug your shoulder and placed your weight on one leg. “i used to, but i slowly started to think it was ridiculous and that i should be able to love who i want, not someone im destined to be with.” you reply, slowly reaching your hand out to run your hand through jaemin’s hair. he smiles at your touch and pulls you in with your other arm, hugging you gently.

“im glad to be the one that you love, despite the fact that im not who you’re destined to be with.” jaemin strokes your hair and digs his head into the crook of your neck. you rub his back slowly. “me too.” you kiss jaemin on the cheek and pull away, smiling softly. “come on, we’re almost at my apartment.” your hands trailed down to meet jaemin’s, interlocking your fingers with his and you both continued walking down the long street.

however, for the first time, it felt as though jaemin’s hand didn’t sit right with yours, like his hand didnt belong to fit in yours. you look down at the interlocking hands. you never felt this way before. why did it occur to you only now?

“something on your mind, eva?” you hear jaemin ask. you shot your gaze up from your jaemin’s hand to his eyes, shaking your head as you faked a smile.

weird

a week has passed since that weird encounter of yours. you couldn’t get it out of your head. every hour of the day you’ll spare a few minutes thinking about it. why did you feel so connected to it? you felt eager to know about what i meant. why did a few seconds of experiencing a distant memory would be etched into your mind as you constantly replay what you saw that time?

you found it funny how you were already so deep in your thoughts early in the morning. you lay in bed looking through your social medias for awhile before getting out of bed to head to the living room.

you see jaehyun sitting on the couch, immensely concentrated on whatever’s on the television screen. you take a seat beside jaehyun, looking down, you see him munching on a bowl of popcorn.

“popcorn for breakfast. really?” you raise an eyebrow as jaehyun nods his head and offers the bowl. you take it regardless of your comment and stuffed popcorn in your mouth.

“you didn’t shower yet?” jaehyun asks. you only shrug in reply. jaehyun looks at you with a disguested look.

“i bet you didn’t shower either, now did you?” jaehyun kept quiet as his eyes widened yet still glued onto the screem. you observed his reaction and scoff, rolling your eyes. “idiot.” jaehyun glances at you and chukles, reaching out to take a handful of popcorn.

“what are you even watching?”

“a movie that i didn’t finish last night.” that explains the popcorn then.

you focus your mind on the movie, despite not knowing what it’s about. everything seemed normal until you see a couple suddenly come on screen. they’re apparently at a amusement park.

almost instantly, you lost sight of your surroundings. oh no.. it’s happening again. you shut your eyes tightly as your vision became blurry once again. you opened your eyes widely to find yourself at an amusement park. a flashback is now occuring, this time it was different.

the flashback. it wasnt a memory you’re unfamiliar with. its jaemin. you see jaemin come into view. it looked like you were taken back to your third date where jaemin brought you to an amusement park. you see him running in front of you happily. jaemin was about to turn around, and you remembered that exactly after that he smiled at you. but he doesn’t. you realise that its not even jaemin.

the one you’re seeing now is the guy from your previous flashback. the polaroid guy. he smiled the exact same way he did when he took the picture of you in the flashback. the guy reaches out to take your hand and you’re being pulled towards him. why does it feel like you’ve seen him somewhere? or maybe you haven’t, but feel like you would some time in the future.

“eva? god, evaline! wake up please!” you hear jaehyun’s voice.

“did it happened agai-“

“it happened again.”

you look around. everything was back to normal. you look at jaehyun. but his eyes were fixated on your foot, he looks shocked. you slowly tilt your head down to look at the number on your right foot. it changed. the number.. reshuffled themselves?

“you’re seeing that too right..?”

you nod your head slowly. its getting more weird. the number on your foot said that you’ll meet your “soulmate” on february 12th, 2020 at 7:06pm. but now, it changed itself to become december 6th, 2020 at 2:19am.

basically it went from 12.02.2020 19:06 to 06.12.2020 02:19

“did i space out again?” you look up at jaehyun as he nod slowly, still looking at your foot in shock. you couldn’t blame him. what happen? did it somehow extended the time you’re about to meet your soulmate? why did it happen? what does it mean?

you told jaehyun what happen. and he almost fainted. you let out a long sigh.

“im telling you its a sign. probably the guy you’re seeing is your soulmate.” jaehyun says lazily and he muched on some strawberry pocky.

“then why was jaemin in the flashback too? isnt it weird?” jaehyun nods his head quickly. he puts down the pack of pocky on his lap and blinks a couple of times. you see the gears turning in his head as you assume that he’s trying to come up with an explanation.

“maybe jaemin’s tied to the guy? like maybe jaemin knows him. or the dude’s from your past life and somehow jaemin is representing the guy in your present life.” jaehyun looks down to see his pocky was stolen from you. you nod your head and you continuously stuffed each stick into your mouth and eating them. “urgh i dont fucking know what to do about this!” you groan in frustration. suddenly, something hits you.

“wait. what’s today’s date?”

jaehyun lifts his phone up to check. “30th november. why?” jaehyun asks. “oh wait.”

“you’re telling me i have a full week until i meet my so called soulmate that i dont even know where ill meet him?!”

you scoff in disbelief. jaehyun doesnt respond, only staring at your face like he’s seen a ghost.

“can i somehow break someone’s neck and slam it on the wall for like i dont know, 5 hours?!”

no reply from jaehyun once again.

“oh for fuck’s sake i cant do this! im heading to johnny’s tea shop for my depression tea. meet me there if you want, i’ll probably be there the whole day as my head constantly spins.”

you quickly got up from the couch and get ready. jaehyun sees you coming out of your room with a hoodie and plain wide legged jeans. you only grab your phone and keys and waved jaehyun goodbye before leaving the apartment. jaehyun sighs.

“i might have set her temper circuit short.” jaehyun whispers to himself and sighs, getting off the couch as well to head over to johnny’s tea shop. “literally could have drove her there but oh well.”

when you enter the shop, johnny face lit up with a huge smile. he runs over to hug you but his smile soon fades away and into a confused look when he sees how pissed you look.

“that’s very... interesting.” johnny comments. you sigh and nod, fiddling with the teaspoon in your drink. “yeah well its not going to be fun once jaemin knows.” johnny stops in his actions and looks up at you. your eyes glanced at johnny before tilting your head up from the drink that wrapped around your hands.

“yes i haven’t told jaemin. i didn’t think it meant anything at first but now...”

“you have to tell him! soon! its a sign!” johnny exclaims. you smacked your hand onto your forehead lightly. “i’ve heard that phrase countless of times by jaehyun and now you too? can you please explain?” you whine, scratching your head vigorously as you argrily take a sip of tea.

you were stressed, very stressed. life was going so well until this happened. you dont know who the mystery guy is. you dont know why he’s “memories” with you suddenly come back, especially when you’re in a really intimate relationship with jaemin. the same question keeps repeating in your head over and over each day and it gets more stressful when you try to think of an answer for them.

“no no listen. it happened to my relative. she was 3 months away from marrying her boyfriend who’s number doesnt match hers. and then she started getting weird flashbacks and she said that the number on her foot changed so that she wouldn’t miss a chance to meet her soulmate in the future instead of the past. and the so called memories? they’re memories that you’ll make with your soulmate once you meet them. the world is trying to make you realise that the guy in your flashbacks is your soulmate and not jaemin.”

you kept silent. so what jaehyun said was right. it was a sign to encourage you to find your real soulmate instead of settling for the one you arent meant to be with. you let out a sigh of relief as you finally know the background information to your whole situation.

“that’s a lot to take in.. how am i suppose to tell jaemin?” you frown as you look out the window. you love jaemin, very much. but to be honest, for the whole 2 years of your relationship with him, everything felt perfect, yet something was off. you never managed to pin point what, until now.

“oh i texted him just now when you were talking to me and he’s coming since he wants to see you.” great. you arent mentally prepared to tell jaemin yet and he’s going to arrive here in 15 minutes.

“evaline! johnny texted me saying you were here and i immediately rushed over.” jaemin comes up from behind and kisses your cheek. you purse your lips into a thin line and you look to johnny leaving his seat. he nods his head, in a way to give you confidence to tell jaemin about the whole ordeal.

“jaemin.. i have to tell you something.” when jaemin takes the seat where johnny sat, you reach your hand out to grab his, slowly soothing your thumb over his skin. “mhm yeah what?” you look up from his hand to his face.

“ive been getting um.. signs lately. flashbacks. jaehyun told me that the guy, who’s always the main subject of my flashbacks could be my soulmate. and i might be meeting him soon, on 6th december.” you whisper to him, biting your lip.

jaemin swallows his own saliva, blinking at you a few times as he tries to process what you said. he lets out a long sigh and painfully puts on a soft smile.

“i knew it was going to happen to one of us sooner. ive heard about the flashbacks. its bound to happen sooner or later.” you nod your head in response.

“im sorry, jaemin. i love you very much-“

“its fine. i understand. im glad the world made you realise that you’re soulmate is still wondering around somewhere, and that it isnt me. im happy i got to spend 2 years loving you.. it made me feel good.” you interlocked your fingers with his, smiling softly before letting go.

you could tell jaemin was hurt. like a knife was stabbed into his heart. you see it behind his smile, his eyes. you knew him all too well.

“we’ll still be friends. and i hope you’re soulmate will come to you.”

jaemin only nods. you lean in and give one last passionate kiss on the cheek before hearing the bell above the door ringing, and noticing that jaehyun has arrived.

december 3rd, 2020. you’re three days away to meeting your soulmate. where? you werent sure.

“good morning, evaline.” you hear jaehyun say. you just got out of bed and you were walking to the kitchen when you see what jaehyun was doing. he’s reading a book. your vision went blank.

its another flashback. you start to mentally prepare yourself as yoh want to absorb as much information as possible on your soulmate in the small portion of the memories.

“the book’s is interesting.” you’re hearing your soulmates voice. you try to figure out if you’ve heard it or not, but shake it out of your head when yoh remember your goal of gathering information. you registered the tone of his voice.

he’s sitting on a bed with round gold glasses on, in his pajamas.

your soulmate laughs. the same way he did the first time. he turns the book to you and it showed his phone betweem the pages of the book, resting there. “just joking!” you hear him say. you take a look at the wallpaper of your soulmate’s lockscreen. it was a picture of him kissing your cheek. it looked oddly the same as the picture you and jaemin once took together. however, there was a text above the picture. evaline heather and lee jeno

lee jeno. that’s the name of your soulmate.

december 5th, 2020. you’re starting to mentally prepare yourself. you dont know where you’re about to meet him. you tried coming up with all possibilities. to be frank, you were more excited about whether the places you thought of might be the place you meet your soulmate rather than being nervous.

the three flashbacks you had. it felt all too familiar. like you’ve known this lee jeno person forever. you feel the connection each time.

when the clock strikes 12am, your mind unknowingly decides to go to the park. the park where you and jaemin first met. you dont know why. it felt like your body was urging you to go there. you lazily got ready and headed out the door, of course you told jaehyun about your outing before leaving the apartment.

you had your hands shoved into your pockets with your hoodie on as you yawned. you breathed in the night air, admiring it dearly. when you reached the park, a quick glance at your phone told you that its 2am. you sigh and took a seat on the bench mindlessly after walking around the park.

you sat there for a few minutes, looking up into the sky and staring off into the distance. suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. you turn your head over to see a guy.

“you seemed pretty lonely so i brought ice cream-“

that voice.

“what’s your name?” you interrupt

the guy pauses and smiles. his face, his smile. its just like the one in your flashback.

“lee jeno. you?”

you didn’t reply. its him. he’s your soulmate, he’s here.

“why does it feel like ive known you for a very long time..?” you slowly started to ask as your eyes looked at him up and down.

jeno chuckles. “maybe..” you see jeno taking off his slipper on his right foot and lifting up his foot. you see the exact number that’s engraved on your foot.

“im your soulmate.”

[luci-four]

hello! would it be alright to request some mammon fluff? i read thru all your posts and im in love with your writing 💕

A/N: Thank you!! You didn’t give me anything really specific so I hope this is good enough for you ♥ thank you for being so patient!! ★

Hide N Seek. {Mammon x Reader/MC}

Mammon knew better.

Call him stupid, dumb, an idiot, a dumbass, a--

Too many, too many.

Call him what you want, but when it came down to the wire, Mammon was not unintelligent. He was creative, and smart in the street sort of sense—he could get by and there definitely were times where he let his knowledge shine.

Mammon new better, but he just couldn’t stop himself from pissing off Lucifer.

He didn’t even remember what he did this time. All that mattered was the heavy—frightening—presence of Lucifer’s anger, condensed to a very... vivid aura that suddenly filled the room. Before the second half of his name could pass by his brother’s lips, the second brother was on the run.

Bounding through hallways, skipping a stair or two at a time going up, jumping back down over the railing just to make his movements confusing; Mammon bolted. He was fast—he was pretty certain he wouldn’t get away from Lucifer, but ‘a man’s gotta try’, or so he told himself. If he could just get out of Lucifer’s line of sight just long enough to hide, he’d be golden! He’d strive for that, that was his favourite colour, after all. Taking several turns, ducking under furniture and hopping over others; Mammon had to bite his tongue and hold his smile until he was completely in the clear—but he was almost there! So close! If he could round the corner to the hallways fast enough, he’d be out of the line of sight to his impeding murder--

His saviour—yes! His MC! His sun! His light! His... cushion? His partner in crime? Whatever their title may have been now, he could hear their voice complaining to themselves; he slammed against them the second they stepped around the corner, covering their mouth to keep them silent. The both of them tumbled back into the small closet MC had left open when looking... for whatever it was they were looking for. Mammon didn’t know, and didn’t care.  He pulled the door shut, held his finger to his lips to try and quiet MC’s muffled words, and grimaced hard when he heard his brother’s footstep pass by. He leaned his head against the door, listening as closely as he could for the fading sounds and sighed out of relief for a moment before it was cut off by a strangled cry.

“Y’owch!” he had to fight himself to stay quiet and pushed on MC’s forehead to try and pull his hand back, “Get your damn teeth out of me!”

“Stop suffocating me and I wouldn’t bite you!”  

“Hey, shush it, will ya?” He hissed, “We’re tryin’ to stay hidden here!”

“You mean you’re trying to stay hidden!” MC emphasized their words with a particularly hard poke to Mammon’s chest, “Why was I dragged into your mess—again!”

“Not my fault you were right there!”

“Now I’m stuck in this small ass closet with you!”

“Yeah yeah, but please! Please be quiet!” he gave a hushed shout, “I’m beggin' ya!”

MC’s face screamed irritation. Mammon gave his best puppy dog eyes, pleading for them to help him out. After they sighed, they turned their head away from him, reluctantly agreeing though they were quick to give him a death glare when he tried to hug them. They both stood in silence for a while, Mammon growing more and more awkward by the minute. His eyes adjusted to the darkness he found himself in, and caught glimpses of MC while they paid no attention to the demon in front of them.

They were close—Mammon could feel it before ever needing to see it; the heat bouncing off of one another, the overall sense of closeness—chest to chest and face to face should they turn back toward him, he was going to die. His heart raced, his pulse knocking heavy in his veins and his breath growing ragged while his knees fought to keep him up; he was dying, that was it, he was dying and was kind of, maybe, sort of, afraid of Lucifer catching him—that's it! Nothing to do with MC...

Nothing to do with the sliver of light from the crack of the door and how it catches their eye and illuminates it like the stars. Nothing to do with how sweet and comforting they smelt. Nothing to do with the soft sound of their breathing or the curve of their face or--

No, nothing to do with them. He’s obviously just getting claustrophobic.  

“So...” he started in his whisper, “come here often?”

“Do you want me to punch you right now?”

“Double dare ya.”

They clenched their fist and shifted to aim it towards his stomach before he quickly deflected them.  

“Hey, knock it off will ya? I was just jokin’.”

“Oh, scared, are you?”

“Scared? No way!”

“Your body says otherwise.”

“My body is a temple and is as sturdy as ever!”

“Is that what we call it now?”

“Watch it!”

Mammon’s mind moved on its own, as did his mouth. Without realizing it, the awkward aura around him dissipated; he felt so calm and collected, he actually felt pretty confident—it had to be because he got away from Lucifer, of course—he could do anything, he could say anything. Despite MC’s teasing tone, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but tug up to a playful smirk; his tongue sharper than ever as he threw the teasing right back at them. The words that passed his lips brought such a delectable heat to their face, a pout to their lips, a huff to their breath and a slight lean towards him that he just couldn’t get enough of. The bold way they gave it right back to him, however, was enough to make him equally as heated; he shied away from them, angrily denied all allegations, turned his head and bit his lip the more they leaned against his chest and close to his face to eat up his reactions with a wicked smirk. What the hell were they doing to him?

“Back it up, will ya?”

“Where am I supposed to back up to!” they leaned even closer to his face, “You shoved us into a closet!”

Mammon grunted and attempted to lean away from them, only to catch a glimpse of the sliver of light in their eye once more. The way they looked at him seemed... questionable. Well, he was certainly questioning it. Their eyes seemed... unfocused, though they definitely were resting on something; their bottom lip had their teeth just barely sunken into it and he could just barely make out that their skin seemed flushed. They looked... soft, like they were waiting for something they really wanted but just couldn’t reach out and take themselves. They looked... they looked...

They looked like he did whenever they weren’t paying attention.

He didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was because he felt like he was looking into a mirror? Or maybe because this all felt like a dream? Whatever it was, Mammon was ecstatic! He could almost jump for joy! Cheer! He was so happy! He was nervous! He was scared! Wait, those emotions didn’t mix—or did they? The perfect blend of nerves and bliss danced around like butterflies in his stomach and drums in his heart; Mammon was almost ready to thank God for bringing the two of them together in this closet. Almost. Wait, why were they in here again?

It didn’t matter! Mammon didn’t care! With eyes as wide as the moon and a smile just as bright, he grabbed their hands and interlaced their fingers, getting a shot of confidence and the need to tease to help him get the words out of his mouth.

“So,” his eyebrows gave a little smug wiggle, “we gonna kiss, or what?”

MC’s eyes went wide as though they just snapped back to reality, giving him a bewildered look for a split second before such a sweet laugh bubbled out of them. They hunched over a moment, leaning their head on his chest and trying to catch their breath as their laugh only grew louder. Mammon couldn’t help but laugh too, moving their still intertwined hands to wipe the tears off their face with the back of their own hands.

“Well?”

Mammon’s body language screamed just one big ‘please’ that he knew MC could read—he didn’t care. The way they smiled back at him made his stomach flip, watching them slowly get closer to his face made it feel like his heart was leaping square out of his throat. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, excited and partially in disbelief.  

“Will you calm down for a second?” MC laughed again, only to keep their smile and laugh once more as Mammon eagerly closed the gap between them.

Oh, he was ready to just die, then and there, in that closet with them.

It was everything—no, more—than he could have ever imagined. It was pure bliss; soft on MC’s end but a little rougher on his as he moved like an excited puppy. Feeling their smile against his lips only egged him on; a little desperate for more—and a little unmanly to whine a bit as he had, he was lucky his eyes were closed so he didn’t see the almost sinful look they shot him—he felt them move back for a moment to untangle their hands. Once their lips made their way back to his, they gently held his face where he instantly became putty.

His limbs felt heavy, and he just wanted to lean everything he had against MC—but in a way they’d never have to let their lips leave his. Was there such a way? Could he find it? The slight tease as they grazed their teeth over his bottom lip as they pulled away caused him to let out another (embarrassing) whine. Letting his head fall heavy into their hands, he simmered in the moment a while longer before lifting his equally heavy eyelids halfway just to let those pool into theirs as well. The way they smiled at him was innocent, adoring, and... happy. Mammon knew his lazy smirk gave them the same feeling as well.

Mammon didn’t think he’d find himself stuck in a closet today—he especially didn’t expect to kiss MC—but he was thankful nonetheless. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind, however, but he just couldn’t find the strength to address it when such an amazing, adorable, teasing little brat stood in front of him; he wanted more—more kisses, more time alone, more of them, more--

The room flooded with light, the force which the door was opened caused a heavy wind against Mammon’s back. Judging by the sheepish look on MC’s face, it wasn’t a good sign in the slightest. In an instant, the warmth that cradled his face—and the rest of him—had been stripped away as he was lifted by the back of his shirt and pulled away from MC and dragged out of the closet.

“Dammit Lucifer, ya couldn’t’ve waited a few more minutes!”

“Be thankful I found you when I did, thanks to MC’s laugh. Any longer and your punishment would have been tripled.”

Hearing that it was their fault, Mammon watched MC give him an embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of their head regretfully before blowing him an apologetic kiss that made him cry out.

“Aw, come on!”

[red-sterling]

me: im depression i dont have energy to write anything for ReGuri’s anniversary of being announced in alola games hgjfkdgdgfdgd

my big dumb brain: hey.

Green likes to talk and Red likes to listen.

"Yeah, yeah - well, that's the thing with Mega Evolution, right? It takes so much energy that using your sync move a few times in a row only works if your Pokémon stays Mega-Evolved. Otherwise you're more or less toast."

Green is talking to either Leaf or Kris on the phone, Red isn't sure. Maybe Kris, she's more interested in Green's ramblings anyway. It's the warmth of Green's voice that keeps Red enraptured, though, this vibrance, sunlight in the form of words. It reminds Red of how Green used to talk about becoming a Pokémon trainer, aiming for the top, Charmander and I are gonna be the best you've ever seen, this passion that hardly ever dies.

"Yeah, and like..." Pause. Green's expression lights up suddenly. "That's exactly it, right?! 'cause like - he's how Pidgeot works, right? Like - "

Red doesn't always hear words but he always hears Green. He hears excitement, vigor, some kind of liveliness that Red doesn't feel he still has in his own heart anymore. The only time Green ever seemed to die was when Red beat him at the Indigo League, and it was messy and ugly and they didn't talk for awhile after that and it hurt, but when Green came to apologize for ignoring him his words were still scaldingly hot, and Red had frozen over, and that heat was something he desperately needed, even if Daisy told him to be more polite.

Red forgave Green and a couple of decades later, they got married. Red had feared Green would never look at him again after he left the Indigo Plateau that night.

"So it's more aerodynamic, but - but, and here's exactly why Pidgeot's my main Mega Evolver right now - those feathers get razor sharp when he Mega Evolves, that's part of why he hits so much harder. Did I ever tell you about the first time I got him to Mega Evolve?"

Green's voice bounces when he speaks, flutters in the wind, a feather twirling halfway down to earth and gliding down the other half, beautiful roller coaster between warm and hot, the difference between a campfire and an inferno. Green describes Red as a crimson flame but fails to realize Red's flame only burns because of him.

I'm gonna be a Pokémon trainer, and that means I'm gonna go exploring the world.

Green said that when they were kids and Red had felt Green slipping away.

...I want a Pokémon too.

That makes us rivals, then!

Anything to stay with Green. Anything.

They traveled all across Kanto, fought Team Rocket, wove their way through labyrinthian caves and haunted towers and wide open grasslands, they battled each other and kept tabs on one another because that's what rivals do but that's what friends do, rivalry is an intimate bond between burning passion and competition but when all is said and done, when Green left his gym and Red left his mountain, when they both left Kanto for Unova or Pasio or Alola, at the end of every day the passion was all that remained.

Green likes to talk and Red likes to listen. Green's wedding vows had been more of a monologue than vows and Red, Red who has always maintained that words are unnecessary, Red had whispered his vows to Green, and it wasn't nearly as long or poetic and yet Green had still been moved to tears.

I love your voice, he'd murmured with a tremor to his own words, and Red had the words love yours on his lips and then love you and then they were married.

"God, but if we ever get to Galar, I can absolutely promise you Vivi's gonna gigantamax at some point. Have you seen gigantamax'd Eevee? They're literally, literally the softest things in the world, I wanna drown in that fur, like, that'd be fine by me."

Loves his voice. Red wanders over to the couch where Green is sitting and lays his head in Green's lap.

"Yeah, and - hang on a sec..." Green covers the receiver. "What are you doing?"

"Listening."

"Do you want something, hun?"

"No."

Green looks a bit incredulous. "You sure?"

"Just wanna hear you talk. I like your voice."

There's a bit of shock on his face, a bit of a flush, no matter how many years they spend together Green is still taken aback whenever Red says that, but the nerves easily settle into a summertime kind of smile. "You're a dork."

"You're the one who's been talking about special battle techniques for almost an hour."

"Shush. You know you like to hear it."

And he does, truly, Red does.

"I'm back." Pause. "Yes, it was Red. He just wants to be close."

And he does, truly, every day Red just wants to be close and he is and it's all he could ever ask for. Green returns to his original tangent with his hands coming through Red's hair. The Alolan sun sets early in October, glowing bright through the sheer curtains of their home. The breeze brings the smell of sea salt and hibiscus flowers and wavering rays of sun over the pair.

Red closes his eyes. The last rays of light over his face aren't as warm as Green's voice.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 2: Accept The Fucking Offer]

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​

The floor is quiet. Your patients—all except one—are sound asleep and mercifully keeping their call buttons at a distance. Patricia is camped out in the nurses’ station at the other end of the hall, chomping noisily on sunflower seeds and wailing along to Tammy Wynette on her portable radio. Queen is enjoying their fourth late-night picnic of the week. You close the door and check your watch; you have seven minutes left before your break ends.

“Let’s kill her,” Freddie suggests casually, hanging his smoldering cigarette out of the open window.

“You know that’s extremely bad for you.”

“What? Committing felonies?”

“I don’t think you’d do well in prison, Fred,” Roger says, popping a Cheeto into his mouth. “No sequined leotards. No cats.”

“Smoking,” you correct. “Smoking is extremely bad for you.”

Freddie takes a drag, exhales a fog of smoke, and grins at you beneath gleaming sunglasses. “Possibly. But darling, the aesthetic is divine. And you’ll take care of me if I get sick, won’t you? Ensure I get all the best drugs, procure new lungs for me on the black market?”

Brian rolls his eyes and nibbles a violet plum, then gestures for John to pass him a napkin as juice dribbles down his stubbled chin. John flaps the napkin just outside of Brian’s reach, yanking it away each time Brian swipes. Roger snickers, observing their exchange from his place on the floor, before eventually advising John to have mercy. Brian snatches the napkin and promptly whips John across the face with it.

“So now you have me committing felonies,” you tell Freddie with a smile.

“Keeps things spicy.” Freddie peers over at you, brow crinkled, studying you like an abstract painting. “Do you like your job, dear?”

Brian groans. “Fred, please, don’t interrogate her—”

“I’m not interrogating, I’m inquiring—!”

“It’s fine, seriously, Bri, it’s fine,” you say. Brian raises his hands in surrender. His coloring has improved, he’s gained five pounds, he’s being discharged tomorrow. Then Queen will be whisked across the Atlantic back to London...and that’s a truth you’re struggling to grasp. “I love what I do. Just not necessarily where I do it.”

Freddie nods, puffing on his cigarette. “Because of Nurse Queen of the Underworld.”

“Not just her.” You can remember being a child and worshiping at the altar of familiarity: your home, that old maroon Queen Anne-style house at the intersection of Apple Avenue and Arcadia Street; inhaling New England autumns; burying yourself in your mother’s soft, cream-colored knit sweaters that were dusted with the scents of homemade pies and Chanel No. 5; the creaks of that uneven, tobacco-stained wood floor of your father’s study beneath your bare feet. Whatever existed outside of your comfortable, commonplace universe—whatever monsters or treasures or undiscovered ringed planets dwelled there—held no interest for you at all. You wanted to live here, die here, raise your own family here, take your children to play under the same weeping willows in the Public Green that your grandparents had met beneath. And then one day, in the purging heat of the summer after your sophomore year of college...you woke up and realized that all those comforting things suddenly felt like a cage, that your fingers were threading bars made of your family and your friends and every grain of soil in Boston. Patricia is dreadful, of course, and has been since you arrived at Massachusetts General nine months ago; but she’s not what you’re running from. “It’s this hospital, it’s this city, it’s Boston. I was born here and I cherish it, don’t get me wrong, but I want to see the world. Mountains and lakes and cathedrals and castles and...and...you know. All the rest.”

“That’s how I felt about Cornwall when I was a kid,” Roger confesses. “I’d take my little acoustic guitar out into the backyard and look up at the sky as I played and think, ‘Is this really it? Am I ever going to get beyond all this to something more?’”

“Yes, yes, well no one asked for your autobiography, blondie,” Freddie quips. Roger chuckles, entirely unoffended. “Continue, dear.”

You think before you respond. When you do speak, it comes out heavier than you mean it to, more serious, more pained, whispered, your voice splintering. “I guess I just don’t want to die without really living first.”

The boys watch you for a while: Brian poised and pondering, Freddie seeking, Roger empathetic, John very quiet. John has spoken—at the absolute most—five words to you since you’ve met him; but you know he can get chatty with Freddie or Rog on occasion, and so you’ve held out hope that you can still win him over. Now you’re almost out of time.

At last, Roger raises his beer, smiling, showing the tiny points of his canine teeth. “Cheers to that.” And it sends something through you like a one-way ticket into a brand new world.

You laugh nervously. “Okay. Wow. Enough of all that, I have to go save lives now.” You wash your hands in the sink and pull on a new pair of gloves, dodging Roger’s large, affecting eyes.

“Do you have a boyfriend, lovely Clara Barton?” Freddie asks. They know your actual name, they’ve known it since night one, but they’ve taken to referring to you as whatever famous nurses they can recall from high school.

“Freddie,” Brian admonishes.

“What, I’m just asking—”

“No, actually, I don’t,” you tell Fred. “Why, do you want a Green Card?”

“Darling, no offense, but if I was going to marry for strategic purposes I would aim for someone far older and astronomically richer. With life insurance.”

“Thanks, Freddie.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“Are you single? Since we’re all sharing our life stories.”

“I’m not,” he replies, somewhat cagily. “None of us are. Well, Brian certainly isn’t, and Deaky wasn’t last I checked, although he’s tricksy and awfully quiet about the whole affair, so I ought to confirm that at some point...how about you, Rog?”

Roger chokes on his beer and wipes his dripping nose with one fuchsia sleeve. “Uh, I, uh, yeah, yeah, uh, I’m single. Yes.”

“Oh?” Brian says, eyebrows raised. “Someone should probably inform Josephine.”

“That’s a casual thing. Super casual. Not exclusive.”

Freddie and Brian exchange a glance: an amused, smirking, what else can you expect from Roger? glance. You try to smirk at Roger too; but he shrugs guiltily, endearingly, with some mesmerizing spell of danger and innocence and wildness and beauty, angels and demons that you didn’t know could coexist without clubbing each other to death. And you mean to file this away as a warning, a reminder to keep your distance; but it feels more like blowing on embers until they leap into flames.

Bad idea, lady. Really, really, really, exorbitantly bad idea.

“Alright, I’m out. Brian, you have the call button if you need it. There’re extra cups and napkins in the cabinet and—”

You open the door. Patricia is halfway down the hallway and approaching quickly, glinting-eyed, stone-faced, keys grasped in her hand. A glimpse at your watch informs you that your break ended two minutes ago. You swing the door shut.

“Get out!” you whisper urgently, and Roger bolts for the window. He pitches his beer outside and helps John climb through the opening and drop safely to the ground below.

“Fred!” Roger hisses, waving, and he lowers Freddie out of the window next as you kick snack wrappers and empty bottles beneath Brian’s hospital bed. Bri smooths his blankets, turns off his lamp, shakes the peanuts out of his hair that John lobbed there. You rush to Roger as you hear keys rattling against the door.

“Here, I’ll help you...” Without thinking, you take his hands as he hesitates in the open window and steady him as he crawls out. You can see Freddie and John down in the darkness, reaching up to catch Roger when he falls. A sudden wave of mourning grips you. I’m never going to see them again. “Bye,” you say, without any cleverness at all. But Roger smiles like it’s the best thing he’s heard in weeks, maybe months, maybe ever. He glances to where your hands hold his.

“Bye,” he replies in that raspy, radiant voice. And then he’s gone.

You sigh shakily. You turn around. Patricia stands in the open doorway.

“Oh,” she says, grinning like a shark, almost gloating. “You are so fired.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re sorry, we’re so sorry, you have no idea how—”

“It’s fine, Roger.”

You’re standing under a lamppost just beyond hospital property at 7:15 a.m. Your shift is over, your very last shift at Massachusetts General; Roger waited outside to meet you all night. There are swollen shadows beneath his eyes, his cheeks are flushed with fury and mortification, he’s edgy and pacing and chain smoking. The sun is bright and already hot, the Arctic terns cawing and swooping overhead.

“It’s not fucking fine,” he flares. “We got you fired—”

“Roger, I was miserable there. I was jaded and complacent and I felt trapped, I felt like I was standing in cement, I felt like I was suffocating and I didn’t know how to bail myself out of it or how to explain any of this to my parents. But now...thanks to Queen...I’m free. I got the shock I needed. I can move on.”

“You didn’t deserve to leave like that,” he insists menacingly. “That bitch isn’t going to write you recommendations. You were good at what you did, you were really fucking good, Brian was despondent before you took over. You deserved better.”

You shrug. “Life’s not fair, Rog.”

“That’s the truth.” He takes a drag off his cigarette and you hold out your hand. He stares at you, perplexed, but passes the cigarette. You smoke a few puffs, then give it back. Roger smiles. “I thought that was extremely bad for you.”

“Most of the best things are.”

“Well.” He shuffles his feet anxiously. “I have a proposition.”

“Yeah?”

“Since you’ve successfully untethered yourself from all your unfulfilling earthly obligations...come to London with us.”

You feel your jaw fall open, feel all the tension in your muscles unravel as the numb shock rolls through you. “Uh. I was thinking maybe the Peace Corps or joining a travel nursing agency or something.”

Roger winks and nudges your shoulder with his. “Transatlantic flights to London count as travel.”

“That’s...accurate...”

“No, seriously!” Rog presses. “Look, every time a band tours, the company hires a medic or a nurse to go with them. They stitch up busted faces, sanitize infected tattoos, prevent us from dying of alcohol poisoning, ice knocked-out teeth until we can get to a dentist, the works. We’re going to be recording as much as possible in London, but Brian will be on bed rest for most of the next few months. You can take care of him. Keep his spirits up. You’re good at that. We’ll all chip in to pay you if the company won’t, Freddie and John have already agreed to it and I know Brian will as soon as I ask. Then, when we inevitably go on tour again...you can be our travel nurse.” He grins confidently, electrifyingly, like he’s figured out all of life’s thorniest questions.

“Rog, I really appreciate the offer, but...uh...this is really too much, and I have no travel nurse experience whatsoever, and...and...look, you are all really talented, I mean that, but you have some seriously chaotic energy and I’m not sure global fame is in the cards for Queen—”

Roger interrupts you brusquely. “You said you love what you do. So you like taking care of people, right?”

“I do, yeah.”

“And you want to see the world.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you think we’re fun, don’t you? Exciting? Audacious? Reckless enough to keep you busy with the fallout of frequent near-death experiences?”

“That sounds about right.”

“So...” He waggles his blond eyebrows. “Come with us.”

You look up into the mid-June sky, as blue and churning as the Boston Harbor, and try to imagine it: packing your suitcase (you really don’t need to bring all that much), digging your passport out of your jewelry box (you know exactly where it is), telling your parents that you’re jetting off to Europe the next day (they would accept it, maybe they’d even be proud; you’d finally be striking out on your own), renting some cheap little apartment in London (you have enough savings to get you started).

“Accept the offer,” Roger says.

“I really don’t think—”

“Accept the offer.”

“—I just couldn’t impose like that, I mean you’re not making any money yet and—”

“Accept the offer.”

“—You guys shouldn’t feel like you owe me this just because I happened to—”

Roger cradles your face with rough hands, gazes fixedly into your eyes, and smiles blindingly. “Love,” he says. “Accept. The fucking. Offer.”

Bad idea, terrible idea, literally the worst idea in the history of human civilization.

“Okay,” you reply softly.

“Okay, like, for real okay?”

“Yeah.” And entirely against your will, you break into a grin. This is the start of the rest of my life. This is the graveyard of familiarity.

“Yes!” Roger cheers. He takes your left hand, raises it to his lips, bites you lightly across the knuckles: some feral, ludicrously on-brand vision of Roger as a Disney hero. I’m the Lady and he’s the Tramp. I’m Sleeping Beauty and he’s the Prince who’s going to finally wake me up, even if it means slaughtering a dragon or two.

“Cute,” you say sarcastically. But, actually, it sort of is.

“Can I walk you home?” Roger asks. “You live around the corner, right? I can help you pack. Oh, wait, maybe I should shower first, I don’t want your parents to see me like this...I am a literal ashtray...my hair is ridiculous...I think I still have some eyeliner on...is the fuchsia jacket too much...?”

You watch Roger as he scrutinizes himself fretfully, his words fading out of the picture, the world becoming a silent film. You can’t look away. If Brian’s a willow tree and Freddie’s a lightning storm, what is Roger? Wildfire, you decide.

He follows you through breezy, shaded Boston streets to the house at the intersection of Apple and Arcadia, with the solemn promise that he can borrow your shower and an old pair of gym shorts. You know he’ll charm your parents instantly, that they’ll fall in love with him. Everyone does.

When you look down at your left hand, there’s a vanishing silhouette of a bruise where he bit you; and if you really think about it you can feel that it still burns.

[shookmione]

Alright homies I love art comparisons with progression over the years but I'm shit at art but thought hey I DO Like writing though, so maybe a could do a comparison, but like,,,, with the writing?

Here's an excerpt from when I was eleven (I know it's ATROTIOUS bare with me I was just starting out)

2016

I wake up in cold sweat, with a worried Annabeth right next to be. "Seaweed brain, calm down. It was just a dream" I must of been screaming in my sleep. The image of my past tormenter lingers in my brain, as I look outside. It's looks around 11 In the afternoon. Did I sleep for that long?

"I'm sorry, wise girl. What time is it?"

"It's around 11:32, why?"

"Because I was planning on swimming with the rest of the seven!" I jump out of bed, and do my hair quickly. Well, try at least.

"Hey Percy, can I ask you a question?"

"Yea" I say trying to find clean clothes somewhere. I know I have a clean shirt somewhere...

"Who's Gabe?" She says, and I almost drop what I'm holding. Did I say something in my sleep?! No, no,no,no! I hope to the gods, i didn't say anything. I don't know what she will think of me. Say I'm a coward? Say I'm weak? Break up with me?!

"Percy...?" I let the silence stretch to far naturally, and finally respond. "Don't worry about it. He's no one." I put on a playful grin, and look at her. She has a suspicious look on her face, like she knows something. Please tell me she doesn't.

"Come on Wise Girl. I wouldn't lie to you. You would know if I was anyways" I stated, and I continued trying to find my clothes with fake goofy smile. I find them and walk to the bathroom. I meet her eyes, now filled with worry still starring at me like she can simply figure out what I'm hiding if she looks hard enough. I pretend like I don't notice, and shut  the bathroom behind me.

Only when I hear the door click shut, is when I let me real emotions kick it. My eyes tear up with just the mention of Gabe, let along have a flashback.

I take off my shirt to change, when I catch a glimpse of my body in the mirror. It's covered in cuts, scars and bruises. Very few of them i gained in battle, which says a lot about how many there is. Most of them are from him. The person who made my life hell for the longest time. Who hit without no thought. Who taunted me day in and day out. The person I kept a secret. The person I want no one to find out about.

I pull myself out of my depressing thoughts and look at the shower. I need to take one now that I think an about it. I poke my head out the door, and see Annabeth sitting right were not I left her.

"Hey Annabeth, I'm going to take a  shower. Alright? It's going to a little bit" with that, I shut the door not waiting for a response.

I walk back to the shower, and turn the handle halfway, making it perfect warm. I finish undressing and jump it, and immediately feel better. The water clears my mind and I'm able to think.

I can't even read that anymore I'll die of embarrassment

Anyways, I rewrote the scene for comparison a few months ago. This is now, at fifteen.

2020

The hands in his hair startled Percy out of his abysmal nightmare. His cheeks were wet and his body was bathed in a cold sweat. The sheets were twisted around his limbs, probably because he was thrashing in his sleep. His heart pounded against his chest. He was trembling.

"Percy, wake up. Wake up. It's not real. It's not real. You're okay."

It takes him a moment but he starts to take notice of his surroundings. He wasn't trapped in that small apartment trapped underneath a man intent on making him bleed, nor was he in any danger at all. As he came to he realized the hands in hair were actually incredibly gentle and smoothing, a large barrier that separated his then and now.

"Annabeth..."

"Shh, It's okay." His head was pulled into her lap where she caressed his headache away and bent down to give him a kiss on the forehead, not caring if it was sweaty. One of her hands went down and grabbed his to steady him. "It's over."

He opened his eyes slowly. The light was violent and made him wince. Noticing this, Annabeth reached over and shut the curtains quickly. Percy wanted to thank her but all that came out was a groan.

"Do you want me to get you some nectar? I'll help your headache."

He shakes his head, then it one sudden motion, pulls her down on top of him. He sniffs heavily into her hair, taking in the magnificent smell of lemon soap.

"Do you want to talk about it then?" She whispers and he digs his head into her shoulder and wraps his arms around her. Percy shakes his head again. Annabeth had no idea of his life before camp and he wanted to keep it that way. Besides, there was no reason to worry her. He was here now and that was what mattered.

"Are you sure? You were crying and thrashing around. You said some stuff. Who's Gabe?"

His arms tighten around her. It wasn't the first time he'd talked in his sleep he just wished it wasn't something so incriminating as a name. There was no way he was going to get around her answer with lies. She was smart and could always detect one before it ever left his mouth.

"What time is it?" He asks, changing the conversation. She seemed to get the hint he wasn't about to open up. He usually did when it came to Tartarus, but she was there with him for that and this was something he was completely alone to suffer in.

"It's nearing eleven. I just finished the plans for the temple and wanted to check in on you. Why?"

Percy pulls himself away and off the bed. She wasn't going to tell him alright but he knew he stank. "I was planning on going swimming with everyone. The lake is always busy and I figured we could go to the beach."

"Nico and Will too?"

"Hazel wouldn't allow it any other way. I'm going to take a shower, okay?"

She nods as she pushes herself up on her elbows. Her usual pulled back blonde hair was a mess and fell down her face in frizzy ringlets. He smiled stupidly at her then shut the bathroom door behind him. His shoulders immediately sag when he spots his own appearance in the mirror.

His shirt is the first thing off as always. There were always too many scars there, many of which weren't from any battles. The ruined, pink flesh stuck out against his chest like a sore thumb. It was worse there than anywhere else. His legs had a couple of nasty ones as well but he was able to pass them off easily as ones from monsters.

The thought left pitiful irony bubbling at his lips. He'd gone through hell and his bastard of a stepfather still held a tighter rein on him than it ever would. Wasn't that pathetic?

He pulled at his hair as he stared at himself in the mirror. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the hot alcohol-infused breath hitting his face.

The shower to the right to him suddenly turned on full power. The sound startled him out of his daze wide-eyed. Unconsciously his shoulder had hunched themselves over and thrown himself towards the closest wall.

He'd lost control of his power before after nightmares. He once woke up to find the fountain had burst and was overflowing when he was thirteen.

It usually only happened when he had nightmares of Gabe, but those were slowly decreasing now that he was seventeen. It was just recently that they had been getting increasingly worse and he had no idea why. Gabe had been gone from his left for five years now, so why was it suddenly taking so much toll on him again? He could feel himself slipping back into that old, dark pit in his head again and despite what he tried to tell himself he was terrified. He could hardly confide in anyone about it either. The only one who had the slightest bit of a clue of what really happened was Grover and he was across the country now.

He touched the water with an outreached hand and immediately the weight from his shoulders turned to dust. It was probably one of the one things that calmed him down anymore besides maybe Annabeth.

[starrysence]

the thunderstorm fic

heyooo i am back kind of with a lil ralbert piece to get back into the writing spirit! hope u enjoy! the fic will be under the keep reading link :D word count is somewhere around 1k and i didnt proofread this bc we die like men. also its a modern au cause i can 

tw for astraphobia (fear of thunderstorms) bc thats what this fic is centered around. 

the searing white flash of lightning that makes the rapidly falling raindrops visible is enough to alert race as to what will come next; he’ll never admit it, but he immediately begins to tremble, using every ounce of his energy not to move his hands up to cover his ears and muffle the rumble of thunder. albert, who’s been sitting beside him for the better part of four hours to work on a project they’re partners for, takes notice of race’s sudden shaking and frowns.

“you alright, racer?”

race looks at him; albert, albie, al, his best friend, the guy he’s in love with (even though he’s still a little hesitant about admitting that part), and even though the answer to the question is initially no, looking at him does make race feel a little alright. just a little. he thinks about how this - his fear of thunder - is the only thing he’s never told albert about. it’s the one thing he feels too ashamed of to share with albert, but he’s always figured it’s not a big deal; albert wouldn’t ever have to know, right?

well, considering their current circumstances… maybe race has to rethink that one.

“yeah,” he croaks, almost flinching at how small his voice sounds. “yeah, al, i’m good.”

albert raises an eyebrow, and race knows he’s already lost this one.

“you sure? you don’t sound too sure of yourself an’ you’re, like, shaking right now.”

“dammit, albie.” race chuckles, attempting to downplay just how scared he really feels. the attempt fails as his voice quivers about halfway through the first word, and he wants to cry. but he doesn’t. “why d’you have to be so observant?”

“i’m not observant, tonio,” albert responds with a soft smile. “you’re my best friend, of course i’ll know when something’s up with you. i’ve known you long enough to notice when you’re not bein’ totally honest with me about somethin’. now, what’s the matter?”

race falls silent. he knows there’s no escaping this conversation, but he wants to try and avoid it for as long as he can. 

"race."

he sighs in defeat. he managed to successfully avoid it for a total of less than two minutes.

"promise you won't make fun of me," race says; he tries his hardest to make his voice firm and steady, but it comes out as a shaky, scared whisper. he feels weak. vulnerable. afraid. he doesn't think his shaking can get any worse but in that moment it does and it makes him feel so pathetic and helpless and suddenly he's trying to make sure his breathing is steady and his vision is clear.

in a second albert is by his side, gripping his hand and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, holding him close. he knows race likes the touch, and race is so glad he just knows because he thinks that if he had to speak another word he would start crying. 

"of course i promise not to make fun of you… whatever's got you scared this bad ain't somethin' i'll ever make fun of you for, tonio. you know, i'm sorry for pushing in the first place… you don't have to tell me if it's too hard for you." albert's voice is soft, his tone sincere, and race wonders how he got lucky enough to have a best friend like this.

"i wanna tell you, it's just… hard." race's voice softens more and more as he speaks, ending up as a whisper. 

albert nods. "i get that, racer. just… tell me when you're ready."

"yeah… yeah. thanks, al."

a silence falls among the rather small bedroom, but neither of them really mind; it’s that same, familiar comfortable silence that occurs in the few moments when they don’t have anything to talk about.

“do you remember when we met for the first time?”

race looks up at albert, surprised, and blinks. “i guess, yeah… what about it?”

“i just think it’s crazy, you know...” a small smile starts to form on albert’s face, and race can’t help thinking about how much he wants to see that smile all the time every day, how much he wants to kiss those lips. “how it all began, i mean, and then there’s where we are now. when you sat down next to me on the first day of school in second grade and started rambling on and on about how cool you thought stars were, i immediately wanted you to be one of my friends forever. you were the first person to talk to me that year, which was huge to me ‘cause-”

“you’d just moved into the area,” race interrupts softly. the storm is still going on outside, and it shows no signs of quieting down any time soon, and race still feels himself trembling, but this helps; talking helps. touch helps. he helps. albert helps. 

“yeah.” there’s a full smile on albert’s face now, and it makes race want to smile, too, but all he can manage is a small upturn of his lips. “and now we’re here, and i love how it is and i love you and i wouldn’t trade this for- for anything in the world.”

the world seems to still in that moment. time stops, noise quiets, everything fades away until it’s just the two of them. race is aware of how cheesy this all sounds in his head, but he can’t bring himself to care.

it was those three words, he knows it was. they've been saying those words to each other for so long; in quick, fleeting moments, in long, heartfelt talks. 

"can you stay the night?" race whispers. 

"'course i can," albert responds in a soft tone. 

“thank you, albie. i love you.”

“and i love you, tonio. always.”

---

i wanted to fit race telling al abt why he’s scared into this but i couldnt find a way to do that without rewriting basically the whole thing, and i love what i have so i didnt want to do that.

long story short… anyone want a lil part 2? :)

-sanj <3

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[turtle-steverogers]

I can’t write for shit but I know you are really talented ,so what about an angst about Spot going to war and he doesn’t make it back and Race and their 1 year old son go to visit his grave and talk to him? Idk you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to but I thought it was a really cool idea

hi! so this is a pretty on brand prompt (especially for a certain upcoming Thing, but...,,.,) but anyway yeah here’s a fic. hope i did your idea some justice!

warnings: lots of talk of death, but nothing graphic.  my shitty, caffeine muddled writing (truly, not my best work, sorry)

ship: sprace

word count: 1529

editing: nein

Just Out of Reach

“Aye, Sergeant, need some water up there?”

“Yeah, thanks man.”

A water bottle is passed up to Spot, and he takes it, taking one hand off the M2 machine gun that’s deadbolted down in front of him and using his teeth to unscrew the cap.  He hadn’t realized how goddamn thirsty he’d been, but it’s fairly easy and not at all uncommon to lose touch with yourself during the methodical cycle of a mission.  

Really, it’s just reconnaissance.  Mapping out the desolate land that surrounds base- cataloguing the unknowns and the possible threats.  It’s the simple stuff.  The required bits that make the more strategic missions possible.  But they still take long as hell and Spot’s willing to bet that he’s sweat through his fatigues by now as he bakes in the desert sun.  His helmet is scratchy and the army-issued goggles are digging into his skull, squeezing his brain and making his head throb.  The water helps a bit.

His vehicle is at the front of the convoy, and somehow, he found himself perched in the turret, calculating gaze scanning around for anything amiss.  They near an Iraqi village, vacated looking buildings lining either side of the sandy, dirt road.

Spot thinks he sees a few windows shutter closed and when he looks to his left, there’s a little girl (she can’t be more than five.  Christ)  sitting on her stoop, knees pulled up to her chest.  She’s staring at the convoy, eyes wide and fearful and fingers plugged into her ears.  Spot feels a pang of...of something.  Guilt, maybe.  Sympathy.

Really, none of these people asked for this.  They never wanted big, scary men in big, scary vehicles shouting out foreign remarks and invading their space- their homes.  

Spot forces his gaze back to the front, willing himself to focus back on the task at hand.  But he can’t help his mind wandering back to that little girl.  There was something about her.  The innocence, maybe.  The simplistic look of discernable fear in the face of something scary.

He thinks of Teddy.

His son’s own wide, brown eyes and chubby, five year old cheeks.  Really, they’re not so different- that girl and Teddy.  They’re lives are so drastically diverse from one another, but they share that same, innate naivete.  The all prevailing look of curiosity that only kids can convey.

Spot misses Teddy.

Granted, he always misses him and Race.  The feeling isn’t mutually exclusive to any one moment, but sometimes the ache will grow into more of a pain, gripping his chest with longing to kiss his husband and hug his son.  Maybe dig his fingers into Teddy’s sides as he picks him up and swings him, planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek.  It’s a foolproof way to make him laugh.  And if Race is there, he’ll laugh too.  There are some things in life he can count on to be constant, and his family is one of them.

He comes back to himself as he nears a stoplight and suddenly, something in the world seems wrong.  He’s just about to secure himself around the gun when there’s a shout from down below and then the humvee is jerkily rolling to a stop and that’s when Spot sees the wire and that can only mean someone’s going to die if they don’t fucking stop right fucking now and--

Nothing.

-

“Papa, can we go see Daddy today?”

Race freezes halfway through screwing the cap off a carton of milk.  He turns to look at his son and finds him staring at him in all his six and a half year old glory.  His hair is a mess of bedhead and sleep and even though Race had gotten him up and dressed in a decent amount of time for a Saturday, he still looks rumpled.  But that’s just how kids are, Race guesses.

It had been a year since Race’s life took a tumble into the realm of his worst nightmare.  A year since Lieutenant Kelly and Sergeant Jacobs had shown up on his doorstep, clad in Army Service Uniforms and wearing twin, somber looks. 

It hadn’t taken long for Race to piece together why they were there.

That day was still hazy, a jumbled mix of numb shock and things like, “we regret to inform you” and “killed in action” and then there was Teddy pulling at his pant leg and asking him with those wide goddamn eyes why “guys dressed like Daddy” were there and Race didn’t know how to tell him that Daddy’s gone, because how the hell do you explain that to a five year old and he wasn’t equipped to deal with something like this and he still isn’t and-

Yeah.  A nightmare.

Race still isn’t sure if Teddy knows exactly what happened.  He seems to understand that Spot is gone and that fundamentally, he isn’t coming back, but he doesn’t think Teddy understands death yet.  The finality of it- the weight behind the concept.  

It was inexplicably haunting to see Teddy not crying at Spot’s funeral.  Race was crying.  Hell, Race was a mess.  It was so bad that Albert had to take over his eulogy and Jojo had to watch Teddy for a few minutes while he lost his shit in the bathroom.

But Teddy hadn’t cried.  He’d just clung to Race with a tight grip and wide, bewildered eyes, not saying a word.  

“Sure, bud,” Race says, shaking himself and pouring the milk into Teddy’s bowl of Lucky Charms, “we can go see Daddy.”

He takes Teddy along to Spot’s grave fairly often, but he never really knows how much of it he processes.  Like at the funeral, he’s always quiet and subdued when they go, never really saying anything.  Just sitting in Race’s lap, head bent into the crook of his neck as he stares at the headstone.  

“Yay!” Teddy bounces a little in his seat, grinning as Race sets his breakfast in front of him, “I want to tell him about my dance recital!”

Something in Race’s chest cracks open, making him feel simultaneously warm and cold and entirely overwhelmed. 

On their way to the cemetery later, they pass a man selling custom bouquets on the street.  Brilliant mixes of orchids and roses, gardenias and anemones, bleeding color into the cold grey of winter, and when Teddy sees them and turns that pleading look on Race, well, who is he to say no?

-

“Hi, Daddy!”

For once, Race stays a little off to the side, watching his son sit cross legged in front of Spot’s grave.  He’s talking, words spilling out at about a mile a minute, but Race tunes them out.  This is their private moment and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that.  

“I kinda wish you coulda seen it, but…” Teddy shrugs, mouth grimacing in a way that’s so strikingly Spot that Race has to close his eyes for a moment, “That’s okay.  I know you woulda come if you coulda.”

And, well, ouch.

“Anyway, I brought my scarf for you, Daddy,” Race opens his eyes to see Teddy carefully wrapping his little Thomas the Tank Engine scarf around the headstone, just over where he’d placed the flowers they picked up earlier, “‘Cause it’s getting cold and Papa always tells me that scarves help make you super warm.”

Race has to bite his lip to keep from crying or doing something stupid to ruin his son’s moment and, like, breakdown in front of him.

“Anyway, I’ll let you talk to Papa now, ‘cause I know he always likes to talk to you a little,” He smacks a kiss onto his palm and presses it to Spot’s engraved name, “Bye bye, Daddy, I love you.”

When he turns to look at Race, he’s smiling.  It’s big and unyielding and Race fucking melts, because this is all he really wants.  Sure, when Teddy gets older, Spot’s absence will ring loud and daunting, but hell, if he can have any ounce of peace with it then, well, Race...Race is fucking ecstatic.  He can handle this. 

“Your turn, Papa!” Teddy says, beckoning Race to sit down and climbing into his lap when he does.

“Thanks, little man,” Race hugs Teddy close, “Did you have a good time talking to Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” Teddy says, squirming a little in Race’s tight hold, “I know he was listening super good, I could feel it.”

Race swallows, “Oh yeah?” Teddy nods, “I’m super glad, Teds.”

And maybe, really, that’s what this is about.  Spot’s death was a curveball thrown with the wrong hand, jarring a perceived reality and shifting everything Race had known a little too far to the left.  And no, it isn’t okay.  Maybe it’ll never be okay, but it doesn’t have to be.  Spot’s still there, lingering somewhere in their hearts and made real by his memory- their memories of him.  He’s still palpable, still reachable, and if Teddy can feel it, maybe Race can too.

Race takes a breath, fortifying and fond, then smiles.  It doesn’t feel so strained and Race feels just that much lighter when he clears his throat.

“Hey, Spottie…”

-

it wasn’t very good don’t clown me please my brain said ‘sorry bud’ today

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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