#and suddenly my brain went: you should write THIS scene

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

i’m alive i’m here (i’m fulfilling my duties bc damn a bitch went offline for 9 days and is behind on everything 😭) ⬇️

You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.

ugh i miss ur writing sm i love how this scene felt “slow” like u were navigating this lagged moment with her because nothing felt real

As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.

i don’t give a shit the one thing i love more than romance stories is sibling relationships 😭 they’re my heart n soul

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

i fear he won’t do it 😭😃

“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

jj 😭😭😭 leave her alone 😭😭😭

"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."

screaming into my pillow ur dialogues r too good

A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.

okay pause ✋🏼 not the thematic parallel to abusive and neglectful parental figures i cannot handle this

You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it.

THIS LINE EATS SO HARD 😭😭😭

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

my jj would swing at ur jj for the way ur talking to ur sister

“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”

PERIOD!!!!

 “He was good to me.”

girl *I* held my breath

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.

i love ur sarah sm mines a bitchhh 🙂‍↕️✋🏼

“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE HIS PUNK ASS IS GONNA BE LIKE “i don’t know a maybank”

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

YOU PUNK ASS BITCH

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give.

no i didn’t (personally cannot scream LOL)

Six months had passed since that day

what the actual fuck

You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat. 

such good imagery god i love this

Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there. 

my heart is pounding omg

“You had six months.”

YIKES 😬

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”

i’m shaking rn pls give a girl some respite

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”

i’m throwing punches into my pillow rn biting my teeth ohmygod

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

go away demon 👹 @ gigi

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier. 

oh we’re in season 3 now ok

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

i’m literally scraping my fingernails against chalkboards rn pls stop this madness 🛑🛑🛑

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

gonna die ok 🪦

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you. 

You were in love with Rafe Cameron. 

oh my fucking god u did it again

final thoughts — ohmygod. i dont know why i kept putting off reading this? i think a part of me was scared because the literal content warning was “aka angst” and i said no. anyways, first and foremost u done it again gigi. what i was so impressed about this chapter was ur ability to create such flowing, strong and long dialogues. the one between jj and reader i read twice because i can’t believe how naturally-paced this story goes through that u don’t even realized it’s chunks on chunks of dialogues. that’s such an incredible feat and knowing now that ur from europe and english is probably a second language? the way u select the right words at the right time is an talent i strive to have. i’m like re-editing in my head being like “would i come up with that?” and being like “yeah i would’ve ended it there (bc i don’t know how to elongate a scene) but gigi knew how to keep it going.” gigi, when i tell u that’s one of the most impressive skills i’ve ever seen in my life i’m so serious. also, the way you structure and keep a consistent flow of emotions. the beginning of the story is stretched out in a way that i cinematically imagined a lagged moment. yk how in euphoria where it drags a scene from one part to the next? like that. and then the ending, when i said i was shaking, i was truly shaking. u had my heart clutched in ur hand and u just SQUEEZED IT 😭 💔 the way i felt everything and was so scared and panicking and my eyes wanted to read ahead because i wanted to know what happens but i also wanted to enjoy the writing 😭 u got me doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to read 😃 i thoroughly enjoyed this to the very end and ngl, i am so scared to read the next chapter i think imma hold off for a min…

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - five

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

warnings: angst <3333333 for everyone <33; might need some editing bc im too tired to check everything but yeah

word count: 7.7k

The ride back to home was a blur. The plane ride, the ferry.

Everything. 

Every mile that took you further from Rafe felt like a wound being reopened. The police officers tried to engage you in conversation, but your responses were monosyllabic at best. They eventually gave up, letting you stare out the window in silence.

When you finally arrived, the sight of the familiar streets of The Cut did little to comfort you. Your house felt alien, a place you barely recognized. The officers escorted you inside, their presence a reminder of the reality you were returning to. 

“Your brother and your friends were rescued from a remote island a while ago. He was informed of your whereabouts an hour ago, he’ll be here soon.”

Their words barely registered.

You nodded numbly; your mind still stuck between the events that had unfolded just two days ago.

What kind of sister had you turned into? Barely phased over the fact your little brother was thankfully alive and well? You were supposed to protect him. 

Sensing your detachment, they exchanged a look before retreating to the porch, giving you some semblance of privacy.

You wandered through the house, your steps heavy. Each room felt like a snapshot from another life. The couch where you and your brother used to bicker over TV shows when Luke spent days doing God knows what, the kitchen table where meals were shared and stories were told, only between you two– they all seemed like relics of a past you could no longer touch.

Things would never be the same, you knew that.

You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.

That must be your punishment. 

A soft knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. You sat up, heart racing. Your body was still on high alert, every little noise sent shivers down your skin. The blasting of the gunshots was still deeply rooted in your brain. It hadn’t even been three days. 

The old wooden door creaked open, and your brother's face appeared, bright blue eyes wide with concern. He rushed to your side, pulling you into a tight embrace nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “Holy shit.”

You clung to him, the dam breaking as tears streamed down your face. The sobs wracked your body as JJ held you like you used to hold him. It devastated you. It felt so disappointing. He was never supposed to be the one carrying the family burden, you were. After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, wiping your tears. Your brother sat beside you, his eyes searching your face.

“You’re not hurt?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words, but all you managed to blurt out was a small “No. You?”

“No,” JJ nodded, lips pursed into a tight line as if he was figuring out what to say next, “They told me about the shooting.”

Your heart sank further at his words. You had hoped to avoid talking about it, at least for a little while. But he was watching you like he used to when you would act as a human shield for him, you couldn't brush it aside.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You reached out and squeezed his hand. "What about you? How did you get off that island?"

JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It was a mess. We were stuck there for weeks, trying to find a way out. Pope and Kie kept us sane, but it was rough. We finally managed to signal a passing boat, and they rescued us. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You squeezed his hand tighter, guilt and gratitude warring within you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, JJ."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I—I should’ve saved you on that ship, okay? It’s on me, not you.”

You’d cry again if you didn’t feel like your body was about to collapse, “You did everything you could. We both did. It's not your fault."

“The one time we changed places, and I couldn’t do it.”

"Jay—"

"I should have been there for you," He insisted, "I hated it."

It was your fault, not his. You pulled him into another hug, trying to convey with your touch what words couldn't express. The weight of your shared guilt and pain was almost suffocating, but at least you were together. You felt his body shaking, whether, from exhaustion or emotion, you couldn't tell.

When you finally let go, you took a deep breath, hoping to find some semblance of strength.

"We’re gonna be okay.”

JJ nodded, though you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. "I know. It's just... hard."

"I get it. But we're both here, we're alive.”

A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, it was a fragile peace, but it was something. The familiar sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside the window was a reminder that life continued, even when it felt like your world had stopped.

"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" JJ's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

If he only knew. The one time you managed to close your eyes and sleep you were plagued by nightmares of JJ finding out what you’d done. About you and Rafe. It made you want to scratch your skin raw. 

“Yeah.”

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, a mirror of your own fatigue. You knew you both needed rest, but the thought of sleep was daunting. The nightmares felt too close, the darkness too suffocating.

"Let's try to get some sleep," You suggested softly, though you weren't sure you could follow your own advice. "We both need it, ‘kay?”

JJ nodded, but you could see the wariness in his eyes. He laid down next to you, the bed barely accommodating the both of you.

As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.

The minutes ticked by in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic crashing of the waves outside. You focused on that, letting it be your anchor. Slowly, the tension in your body started to ease, the weight of the day’s events beginning to lift, even if just a little.

"Do you remember the first time we went out on the boat alone?" JJ's voice was a whisper in the darkness, a fragile thread connecting the past to the present.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah. You insisted you knew how to steer, and we almost ended up crashing into that sandbank."

He chuckled softly. "We were so scared. But you figured it out. You always did."

The memory was a bittersweet reminder of simpler times, a time when your biggest worry was navigating the boat, not navigating the chaos your lives had become. When you weren’t a complete fuck up.

Exhaustion finally began to overtake you, your eyes growing heavy. JJ's breathing evened out beside you, a comforting rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Not without losing him in the process. 

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. Completely void, much like yourself these days. 

Morning came too soon, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the room.

You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment before the events of the past days came rushing back. JJ was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful in repose.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The officer who comforted you after the shooting promised to call as soon as he got an update on Rafe’s condition. And so far? No call.

You wondered if the hospital or the police had contacted Sarah. She was Rafe’s closest family, aside from Wheezie who was still a kid, and Ward who was a sought-out criminal. It made sense that they would reach out to her.

If you rang the hospital, they wouldn’t disclose a thing, you weren’t family, and it wasn’t like you could ask Sarah. She would know something was wrong the moment you asked about Rafe. It was risky. 

The kitchen felt eerily quiet, the early morning light casting long shadows on the walls. You made yourself a cup of coffee, the warmth a small comfort against the chill that had settled in your bones.

Sitting at the table, you sipped slowly, trying to come up with some sort of tangible plan. You wanted to know if he was okay, needed to know, but every option seemed fraught with risk.

Your new phone buzzed on the table, jolting you from your thoughts.

You picked it up, heart pounding as you saw an unknown number flashing on the screen. You hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hello?”

“This is Officer Thompson. I promised I’d keep you updated on Rafe Cameron’s condition.”

You closed your eyes, thanking God for finally giving you some piece of mind, “Yes, thank you.”

“He’s stable,” Officer Thompson continued. “The surgery went well, and he’s in recovery. It’ll be a while before he’s fully back on his feet, but he’s out of immediate danger.”

The knot in your stomach loosened slightly. “Thank you for letting me know.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“I know this is difficult, but you should focus on your own recovery too. There’s a chance the feds will contact you, they’re building their case on Ward. What happened to you is, unfortunately, considered a minor crime compared to everything he’s done, so maybe you’ll get some peace. If not, you might have to testify against him.”

The idea of having to testify against Ward made you uncomfortable to no end. Reliving those moments in front of a courtroom full of strangers seemed unbearable. 

“And Rafe? What are his charges?”

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

A deal. It was a slim chance, but it was something. You hated yourself for the weight that left your shoulders. He should be locked up, you knew that, back then you prayed for the day he paid for what he did and yet here you were, holding on to any possibility of freedom.

You thanked Officer Thompson again and ended the call, setting your phone down with a shaky hand. The coffee had grown cold, but you didn't have the energy to make another cup. You sat there for a long moment, staring into space, trying to gather your thoughts.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you turned to see JJ standing in the doorway, his hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Who was that?” He asked, his voice still groggy.

“Uh—Officer Thompson. He was at the scene the other day and told me he’d keep me updated.”

JJ tilted his head, his messy bed hair following suit, “Updated on what?”

“Rafe’s condition,” You replied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. It was a half-lie. At least you were giving him something. 

JJ stopped in his tracks, “And you care because…?”

“For closure, I guess.”

JJ’s gaze softened slightly as he walked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting across from you.

“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

You winced inwardly. "JJ, you can't just say stuff like that.”

He leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "Why not? After everything he’s done, he deserves whatever he gets."

You couldn't argue with that, but part of you still felt the need to defend Rafe. He saved your life.

“He’s still a human being, okay?”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. "Barely.”

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so angry, so defensive. But it made its way up your body until your lips were moving again, practically spitting the words out.

“He saved my life.”

Your brother stared at you like you were speaking another language, “Saved your life? Are you serious? It’s his fault you were there in the first place!”

“He chose to help me. And I can't just forget that."

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

"This is insane. One good deed doesn't erase all the bad he's done."

You reached for his back, “I know that.”

He pulled away from your touch, your fingers only brushing against his shirt, “Do you?”

His retreat felt like a knife to your heart. JJ had always been your rock, the one person you could count on. Seeing him look at you with such disbelief and anger made you feel more isolated than ever. He looked at you like you’d imagined in your nightmares, but the real thing felt ten times worse. 

"I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m just saying… it’s complicated."

He paced around the kitchen table.

"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."

"It's not sympathy," You insisted, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay collected. You never raised your voice at him. "It's just... I don't know. I saw a different side of him. Maybe he can change. Or at least help put Ward away."

JJ stopped and spun around to face you, his eyes blazing. "And what if he doesn't? What if this is all part of some twisted game for him? People like Rafe don't just change, okay? They manipulate, they hurt, they destroy."

“JJ—"

“You sound exactly like her.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. Suddenly your entire soul felt like it was being drained out and slashed into pieces.

You spent a lifetime hearing it, from Luke.

A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s exactly the type of bullshit she would spit out about dad, wasn’t it? And look where it got her.”

Memories of your mother flooded back. The excuses, the false hope, and the endless cycle of pain and disappointment. You weren’t her, were you? Holding out for a man who was never going to change, who would only inflict pain upon your life? It couldn’t be. You spent your entire life making sure you were nothing like her.

It wasn’t fair.

You weren’t making excuses for Rafe as your mother did for Luke. You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it. You stood there, feeling the weight of his accusation like a leaden cloak.

How could he think you were blind to Rafe’s faults? You knew them all too well. Standing there in the kitchen, under the harsh morning light, you felt exposed, vulnerable, and fiercely defensive.

“I’m not her,” You finally managed to say, your voice cracking, “I’m not defending him like she did.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “I’m not doing this with you, not right now.” 

You turned away, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to regain your composure.

He followed you hot on your trail, "Don't walk away from me.”

"I'm not defending him," You insisted, your back still to him, “I’m just trying to understand, okay?”

“Understand what? Jesus, Rafe is who he is.”

"And maybe he can change," You shot back, the words spilling out despite the tightening knot in your chest. "Maybe he saved my life because he wants to change."

"He's manipulating you," JJ retorted, his jaw clenched. "Just like he always does. You went through some traumatic shit together, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything."

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face him again. Your head was tingling, the headache already forming itself, and you felt hot all-over. 

“Some traumatic shit?” You repeated, “Are you fucking serious?”

JJ raised both his hands, tangling them in his hair in frustration, “You almost died, and now you're here defending the guy who put you in that position?"

The accusation stung. You felt the heat rise in your chest. You hated fighting with your brother. You were letting your feelings for Rafe get between the two of you.

He shook his head, disappointment oozing from him in waves, "Good luck with that. Just don't expect me to sit here and act like everything's okay."

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes, "I'm not asking you to. Can't you see that maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem?"

“All I know is what he's done to us, to you."

"And what about what he did for me?" You shot back, the words bitter on your tongue.

“And what did he do exactly?" Your lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from his mouth, “What did you do?”

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. His accusation lingered in the air, challenging you to defend the indefensible. The truth was there, clawing at your mind, but you couldn't bring yourself to voice it. 

Not to JJ, not yet.

"I don't expect you to understand," You finally said, voice strained, "But I’m not turning my back on him.”

JJ's eyes narrowed; frustration etched on his face. "Why?”

“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to evaporate. For a moment, the kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the instant regret that filled your bones.

Finally, JJ spoke, his voice low and strained. "Fine. Do what you want."

You watched as he turned away, his shoulders tense with anger or disappointment – perhaps both. His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet kitchen as he stormed out, leaving you standing there, feeling raw and exposed. It was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him, and the aftermath left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

Alone in the kitchen, you sank into your chair again, your energy completely drained. Part of you wanted to run after him, to explain, to make him understand. But he never would. None of them would.

Because unlike you, they weren’t stupid enough to sympathize with Rafe Cameron.

Sitting there, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd crossed a line, one you might not be able to uncross. You stared at your hands, still trembling from the argument, and let out a long, shaky breath. What was it about Rafe that had such a grip on you? 

You heard the front door open and close, a clear sign that JJ had left the house. Maybe it was for the best, giving you both time to cool down. You got up to pour the coffee down the sink, the sound of the liquid swirling away a tiny comfort.

You spent the entire day locked away in your room, avoiding any kind of social interaction, or the sun. Your phone buzzed again, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it.

You picked it up, expecting another call from Officer Thompson, but the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Sarah.

With a deep breath, you answered. “Hey sweets.”

“Hi,” Sarah’s voice was almost unsure. “JJ and the police called earlier, told us what happened. Are you okay? I’m on the mainland with John B, we’re taking the next ferry back home.” 

You closed your eyes, somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to face them yet.

“Yeah, I’m…Managing. I'm okay.”

“Good, that’s good,” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Have you heard anything about...Rafe?”

Had the hospital not called her? The question hung in the air. You had, but you didn’t know how much to share. 

“He’s stable. The surgery went well.”

Sarah sighed, “Good. That’s good to hear I guess.”

“Sarah,” You began, hesitating. “Did the hospital call you?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she replied, “Yeah. But I…I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew it was coming after the police called. But—Yeah, it’s just, it’s really hard.”

You didn’t know what to say, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re the only one not giving me shit about still…caring? I guess. He’s my brother, you know? And I want to hate him, so bad, but I can’t.”

"I get it, Sarah. He's your brother. It's okay to feel conflicted."

"Yeah," She exhaled heavily, "But I don't know how to deal with it. He's done so much harm, and yet. I keep hoping there's still some good left in him. I know there's no hope for my dad, but Rafe..."

She had seen him before Ward turned him into this. She still carried the guilt of reveling in their father’s approval, the clear favoritism that she never stood against for her brother, even though she could see her father’s fingers printed on Rafe’s cheeks. 

Her words echoed your inner struggle. You understood her—how love and hate could coexist in such a tangled mess when it came to family. 

 “He was good to me.”

There was a long pause.

You expected her to hang up on you, to call you a list of degrading names, all of which you felt you deserved. She had suffered deeply at the hands of her brother— the same brother you had come to care for, despite knowing the full extent of what he’d done. 

But you underestimated her.

Caught between your own anxiety and the dread of truth being exposed, you momentarily forgot just how compassionate and noble Sarah was. She possessed a goodness that mirrored your own—loyal, forgiving, and endlessly understanding.

Both lovers and fighters.

 "I know, the feds told me about the shooting," Sarah finally said, "And I think that's what makes it so hard. Picturing him as the same monster from before was a lot easier.”

You nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling a deep ache in your chest. "Yeah."

"I don't know what to do," She confessed, her vulnerability cutting through the distance between you. "Part of me wants to see him, to talk to him. And part of me wants to never look at him again."

"I think... whatever you decide, it's okay," You offered tentatively, not entirely sure if your words were comforting or just empty platitudes.

“John B disagrees.”

“Yeah, so does JJ.”

"I appreciate you telling me about Rafe," Sarah continued, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing it from anyone else."

You felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry you had to hear it like this, sweetheart. I wish things were different."

"We all do," she replied softly. "Thank you.”

“Of course," You said, "Take care of yourself.”

"You too. We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. See you soon."

The call ended, and you stared at your phone for a long moment, the screen dark and lifeless, much like yourself lately. 

You spent the next few days in a haze, avoiding JJ and the rest of your friends as much as possible. You’d only seen Sarah. Somehow her presence didn’t make you feel as nervous as you thought. It weirdly calmed you down. You’d always been close, ever since she joined the group, but now you felt like she was the only one who understood your point of view. 

You knew Pope and Kie wouldn’t, and you couldn’t blame them.

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.

The small house felt like a prison. It wasn’t until a week later, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore, that your phone buzzed with a message. It was the officer: "Rafe’s awake."

Your heart leaped into your throat. You still hadn’t told anyone the full extent of what had happened between you and him, and you weren’t sure you ever could. They knew he was in the hospital, that you two had gotten caught in a shooting, that he’d somehow saved your life. That was it. But now, with him awake…You didn’t know what to do.

With trembling hands, you dialed the number the officer had provided. After a few rings, someone answered.

"Hello, this is St. Michael Hospital. How can I help you?"

You snap out of your daze, "Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Rafe Cameron. I was told he’s awake."

There was a pause, the sound of keyboard keys clicking. "Yes, Mr. Cameron is awake. Are you a family member?"

“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

“Okay, just a minute please.”

The hold music was the only thing keeping you centered on the moment, each note heightening your anxiety. When the nurse returned, her tone was pitiful, and you knew then that you weren’t going to like her answer.

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

You wanted to hurl the phone into the ocean, plunge your head underwater, and only resurface when the ringing in your ears ceased.

 What the hell? 

You had spent weeks on edge, consumed by thoughts of him, hoping he would survive, praying for him despite not believing in that sort of thing. You didn't have it in you to put up a fight.

"No, that's all. Thank you." You ended the call and stared at your phone. 

Rafe didn’t want to speak with you.

You felt foolish, as if you were just now glimpsing the bigger picture and recognizing that maybe he didn’t care after all. Perhaps, on the island, you were the one thing keeping him grounded, but now? Now you were back to being a nobody, just a pogue.

It felt like everything you had shared was for nothing.

Had you imagined it? No, you knew you hadn’t.

Rafe had kissed you and touched you with the tenderness of a lover, as if you were precious and any rough movement might break you.

The moments you had shared, the way he had saved your life—maybe they didn’t mean as much to him as they did to you. The bond you thought you had formed with Rafe was, perhaps, a desperate attempt to find something good in the chaos.

The waves crashed against the shore, the sound a distant roar as you sat on the sand, a storm brewing inside. You tried to hold it together, to keep the facade of normalcy for a little longer, but it was getting harder with each passing day. This felt like it was the final straw.

Without warning, a scream ripped from your throat, raw and unfiltered. It echoed across the empty beach, a primal release of everything you had been bottling up.

The anger, the confusion, the hurt—it all came pouring out in that one moment. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the salty sea breeze.

You hadn’t cried properly in weeks. 

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give. The sun cast long shadows on the sand, the beach deserted except for you. Collapsing back onto the sand, you let the tears flow freely. 

There was no one to judge you, no one to see you fall apart. You’d spent a lifetime pulling yourself together, it was only fair you finally got to breathe properly. When the tears subsided, you wiped your face with the back of your hand and took a shuddering breath. The tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by a hollow ache.

You were many things, but none of them were weak and yet...It was almost unbearable, the way your mind replayed every interaction, every look, every word, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that would have warned you not to get attached.

The sound of footsteps in the sand pulled you from your thoughts.

You turned to see JJ approaching. Your heart sank; you weren’t ready to face him after the argument. He sat down next to you, silent for a moment as he followed your gaze out to the horizon.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Mom,” he continued, his tone filled with regret. “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That wasn’t fair.”

You swallowed hard, the tension easing slightly from your shoulders. “It’s okay, JJ. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I did, and I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t trust him, and I hate that you’ve been caught up in all this.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“I called the hospital. They said he’s awake, but he doesn’t want to speak with me.”

Your brother frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “That fucking asshole. After everything—”

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. “Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he’s right.”

JJ’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, trying to believe his words. “I just... I thought there was more to it. That maybe he could change.”

“People like Rafe... it’s hard to change.”

“Yeah.”

 “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wanting to see the good in him.”

He spoke with such gentleness and wisdom. You forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore. That he’d also done his fair share of growing up way too fast. 

You leaned into his touch, “I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” JJ said firmly. “Together. You and me, like always.”

 “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the beach, you and JJ sat there in silence. The waves continued to crash against the shore, a reminder that life moved forward, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.

Maybe things would never go back to the way they were, but you had your brother, your friends, and a resilience you hadn’t known you possessed. 

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Six months had passed since that day.

Life had settled into a fragile semblance of normalcy. The days were longer now, summer heat pressing down on The Cut, making the air thick and heavy. You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat. 

You were lost in your book when a loud, insistent banging on the door jolted you from your reverie. Few people would knock with such urgency.

The forceful banging on the door didn’t stop and you jolted upright.

Without thinking, you got up and flung the door open, irritation flaring. "What the f—"

Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there. 

"Rafe?" You blurted out. You immediately tried to close the door in his face, but he was quick. His hand shot out, holding it open, "Are you kidding me?" You hissed, pushing harder against the door.

"Maybank—"

"If you don't get off my property, I swear to fucking God—"

"Wait!" Rafe's voice was strained, his hand trembling as he held the door open. "Just listen for a second."

You glared at him, every instinct telling you to push harder, to shut him out. But something in his eyes—fear, desperation, a flicker of the Rafe you once knew—gave you pause.

The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out and terrifyingly pale.

The last update you had on him was from Sarah, months ago. He had left the hospital and kept sporadic contact, reaching out to her only every few weeks.

You never asked her about his well-being or what he was doing; despite guessing that he was cooperating with the police. At least you hoped he was. 

You were determined not to care anymore.

He leaned his weight against the doorframe, “You look good.”

You were going to slap the lack of common sense out of him. 

You scoffed, not letting your guard down. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down, struggling to find the words as he scratched the back of his head, “I... I needed to see you. To talk.”

“And I need you to crawl back to whatever hole you just creeped out of, have a good day.”

You tried to push the door shut again, but his grip tightened. “Please, just give me a minute.”

“You had six months.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was— It’s messed up, okay? I’m still working with the feds. I was losing it. Still am, probably. But I need to explain. Please, Maybank, just a minute.”

You hesitated the anger and hurt battling against the small, lingering part of you that still cared.

Finally, you stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to enter.

“Talk,” you said, your voice icy.

Rafe stepped inside, looking around your small living room as if seeing it for the first time, which you now realized he'd never been in your house.

He turned to face you, his expression earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. I felt—“, He took a deep breath, cheeks puffing, “Ashamed. I don’t know.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, keeping a safe distance between you.

“Ashamed? You’ve done a lot of things to be ashamed of. You can’t just show up after six months and expect everything to be fine.”

“I know,” He admitted, taking a deliberate small step closer to you, “I wasn’t expecting that. I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I’m in therapy and rehab, trying to get clean. I’ve been going to meetings. It’s been hell, but I’m trying.”

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”

He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to find the right words.

“Because you’re the only person who ever saw anything good in me. And I can’t forget that. I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know that your faith in me wasn’t for nothing.”

The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise. You had expected anger, arrogance, manipulation—but this was different. Genuine. It felt like you were back in that motel room, in his arms.

You let out a scoff, focusing your gaze on the couch you were just resting on, as you shifted your weight on your feet. “Is that all?”

Rafe's eyes darted to the floor, “No, it’s not all. I just—Shit. I need to make things right. With you. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”

You took a deep breath.

Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him another chance, but the other part of you—the part that had been hurt and abandoned—was screaming not to fall for it again.

“You didn’t even want to talk to me when you woke up.”

He looked up, guilt etched across his features. “I didn’t know how to face you after everything that happened. I was a mess.”

“So you shut me out?” You snapped, “You made me feel like I meant nothing.”

“That’s not true,” He snapped back, head whipping up, then immediately softened his tone, taking another step closer. “That’s not true. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I was getting better for you."

“Don’t lie to me.”

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”

“Cameron.”

Another step closer. His eyes pleading with you to understand. 

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

"I never lied to you," He repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared and confused, but I never lied.”

You felt your anger rising again, every muscle in your body tensing as you tried to keep control. “Scared and confused? That’s your excuse?”

Rafe flinched at your words, but he didn't back down. “I know how it sounds. I handled it all wrong. I’m trying to fix it.”

“You think saying sorry and showing up out of the blue makes it better? It doesn't erase the months of silence.”

His hands reached out, his palms open as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. “I’m not asking for forgiveness right away. I just want a chance to make things right.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You spat, your voice trembling with emotion, “How it felt, watching you almost die. I spent days wondering if you were going to be—” 

You stopped yourself, knowing that if you continued your voice would crack and the tears would start pouring down your cheeks.

You already cried enough for him. 

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You took a step back, putting more distance between you, needing the space to think clearly. “I needed you to be sorry six months ago.”

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier. 

Rafe noticed your eyes wandering to his head and ran a hand through his short hair, a hint of a self-conscious smile flickering across his lips. “Yeah, I uh, made some changes. Trying to start over, I guess.”

You nodded slightly, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice steadier now.

“I’m happy for you, but I can’t do this.”

“Pretty—"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you cut him off, “I feel guilty enough as it is around everyone else.”

“I told Sarah.”

His words hit you like a punch to your gut. 

“What?”

“About us.”

You felt your stomach drop and your vision narrow, the world tilting sideways as the reality of what he just said sank in. “You what?”

“I told her.” 

“You absolute fucking—” You hissed, your voice rising without warning, “Are you serious?!”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” His tone faltered to one that could’ve fallen on deaf ears if not attentive enough. “I needed someone to talk to, and she’s…my sister.”

“You thought it was the right thing to do?” You were shouting now, unable to contain your anger. “You think spilling everything to Sarah was the right thing to do? Did you ever consider how that might affect me? Or her?”

Rafe flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Of course you didn’t,” You nearly growled, pacing the small living room. “You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?”

“Listen— “ He opened his mouth undoubtedly to fire back with another half-assed apology - but you barreled forward, letting the months of bottled resentment continue to burst open.

“You’re so selfish.”

“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone,” His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, “It’s okay.”

“You really believe that?” You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “This is too much for her to keep to herself. It’ll eat away at her until she tells someone. And when that happens, my life here is over.”

Rafe looked stricken, his face pale. “I just—I needed someone to understand what I’m going through.”

For the first time, he took the time to explain what was going on in his head instead of letting his frustrations take over and kissing you.

“And what about what I’m going through?” You demanded. “Did you ever stop to think about that? I’ve been trying to move on, to rebuild my life, and you just waltz back in and blow everything up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You spotted his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely before.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Bitterness began to overpower the pit of your heaving chest, “Sorry doesn’t make it go away. You can’t just undo what you’ve done.”

“I know,” One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare., “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear.”

“Make it right? You can’t make this right, Rafe.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying, pretty. I really am.”

You felt a smidge of sympathy despite your anger. You could see the pain and desperation in his eyes, the same pain and desperation you had felt for the past six months. But that didn’t change the fact that he left you hanging for so long.

“I need you to leave,” you said finally, your voice cold and distant.

You expected him to put up a fight, to lash out, hide his emotions with empty threats and petty names. But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to leave. You watched him go in silence.

Part of you wanted to run after him, to give him another chance, to believe that he could change. But another part—the part that had been wounded and left to heal on its own—knew that it wasn’t that simple.

You had to protect yourself, even if it meant shutting him out for good.

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

You blinked, taken aback. "What?"

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the raw honesty in his eyes. "I don’t regret what happened. Between us. I regret how I handled it, how I hurt you, but I don’t regret feeling something real for once."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the suffocating heat seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold clarity. You crossed your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold onto your anger, your resolve. But his words had hit a nerve, bringing back memories you’d tried so hard to bury.

You looked away, unable to look at him, "It doesn’t change anything."

"I know.”

With that, he turned and walked out the door, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you standing there. The room felt emptier than it hand in months as you leaned your forehead against the cool wood over the door.

You pushed away from the door, needing something to distract yourself. 

You picked up your book, but the words blurred on the page. You tossed it aside, your thoughts too chaotic to focus. Instead, you paced the small living room, replaying the conversation in your mind.

You eventually collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. You did the right thing, so why did it hurt so bad? 

You felt like a wound had been reopened, and you hated him for it.

But you hated yourself more for letting him get to you. The hours dragged on, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows through the windows. You tried to lose yourself in anything—TV, reading, cleaning—but nothing could shake the gnawing feeling of unresolved problems that clung to you.

You only saw Rafe's face, his desperate eyes, his trembling hands.

You remembered the feel of his skin, the sound of his voice when he was vulnerable. The memories were too real, too persistent. You couldn't bring yourself to explain it to yourself. Your eyes begin to itch, warning you to think of something else.

Anything else but Rafe.

Was this heartbreak? No—it couldn't be. 

You weren't in love with Rafe Cameron.

 At least, you didn't think you were.

You had never allowed yourself to consider it, to dwell on what you felt for him. But now, in the stillness of your small living room…it was different. You never had a good parental figure to teach you these things.

All you knew was destruction, violence, and heartbreak. And although you’d done pretty well for yourself, all things considered, this was new to you.

The thought hit you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable.

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you. 

You were in love with Rafe Cameron. 

[glmfic]

Oooo sometimes my braaaaain...got some juicy options I could possibly go with for the end of this chapter or add to the next chapter [eyebrow waggle] hmmmmm....

[strniohoeee]

reader is down bad for matt, like she blushes, giggles, goes mute whenever he's around and he kinda enjoys it and one day he finally asks her to go an a date and it ends super fluffy

She’s Got It Bad

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N was out of her mind in love with Matt, but she was shy. Which left her in awkward silent situations until one day Matt puts his foot down! 🌷

Warnings⚠️: None?? Writing kind of sucks also sorry if there’s grammatical errors I never proof read till two days later after I post lolll😭

Song for imagine: This Is How It Feels- D4vd, Laufey

So this is how it feels

To fall in love with you

To always think of you

To always dreams of you

You know when you’re reading or watching a romance book or movie, and one of those super cheesy slow mo scenes happen? Where an 80s love song is queued and the two love interests stare at each other while their hair oh so dainty blows in the wind? And you’re curling your toes as your heart beats for the next scene to happen? Just thinking “I need more! Give me more!” And then it goes back to reality and they end up walking right past one another….

And it wraps you into this hour and a half or 230 page book/movie about the girl wanting the guy….but the guy not really wanting her or simply seeing her as a sister or painfully shoving her in the friend zone? And you’re itching for more. Tired of this back and forth of who will get one another first?

And if you said yes to any of those questions then you are sure looking at my life right now…stuck painfully stuck in the friend zone. Mainly because I put myself there. Let's face it, I'm deeply afraid of rejection. Why ruin something that is virtually perfect.

I had it bad for Matt and I’m not so sure he felt the same way, but I’d never in a million years ever jump at that. I’d rather rip my ears off and tape them to the concrete and then run them over consistently for an hour… okay a bit graphic and a bit over the top but you get the point. He’s off limits and I’ve got it bad for him…

Most of our interactions consisted of short conversations, me blushing like an idiot and even sometimes going silent..offering a nod here and there. It’s even gotten to the point of having to leave the hangout because I was so nervous around him. I mean what if I said something that he found cringey? What if I embarrassed myself which I tend to do a lot might I add? Or even worse…what if he didn’t find me funny?

All these terrible instances bounced off my brain like a bullet ricocheting off of metal walls. As I sat chewing my lip, suddenly my thoughts were interrupted

“Helloooooo” I heard loudly from the other end of the phone call

Blinking out of my trance I soon realized I had been on the phone.

“I’m sorry Nick I got side tracked” I replied gripping the phone again

“Yeah I can tell you went rogue for like 3 minutes there, did you even hear what I asked you?” He asked laughing

“Uhhh yeah and I think you should go with the yellow shirt” I replied praying I wasn’t so far off from what he was talking about

“That was like 10 minutes ago, I asked are you coming or what?” He said huffing

“I’m sorry? Coming? Where?” I asked again as I furrowed my eyebrows

“This is why I don’t call you, you have the attention span of a fly” he said laughing which caused me to laugh

“I’m sorryyyy I was thinking about something” I replied to him

“Aren’t you always… I was asking if you were coming over tonight for movie night?” He said shuffling around

“Ohhh duhh of course I never miss Saturday nights with you” I said getting up to pack my overnight back

“Even though Matt and Chris are joining us this time?” He asked

This is where I hadn’t been listening previously and I almost choked on my saliva trying to form a proper answer.

“Uh.. *ahem* yes of course they can join us” I replied trying to seem chill

“Wow sooo nonchalant about that” he stated sarcastically

“Oh will you shut up” I replied stuffing my duffle bag

Nick opened his mouth to speak but on the other end it sounded like someone walked in his room

“Matt get the fuck out I’m on the phone” Nick said which made me laugh a bit

“Who are you talking to?” I heard Matt ask his brother

“Your girlfriend now fuck off” he said almost hissing at Matt

“NICK STOP” I squeaked over the phone

“I don’t have a girlfriend you sicko” Matt stated sounding annoyed…. I looked up at my imaginary camera (hmm how do I take that response) I thought.

Shaking that feeling off I returned to the call

“Okayyy bye nickkkk see you in a bit” I replied rushing him off the phone

Hanging up the call I sighed deeply… if I wasn’t already nervous to possibly run into Matt then oh boy was I in for a treat

Usually, Saturday nights were for Nick and I and I rarely ever ran into Matt or Chris. Usually it was Chris and him and I had a cool bond. We’d stop to hug and chat for a bit before Chris left to go out. And if I ever ran into Matt it was him leaving with Chris which prompted me to wave slightly and avoid all hugs. Rambling on about Nick needing me for something upstairs each time and not even giving them the chance to respond.

I usually shut my eyes and shook my head when I turned away from them and even muttered a few unkind words about myself to myself….

But tonight…tonight Matt was joining us which meant I couldn’t be awkward around him or else Nick would for sure point it out.

I had gotten to their house with dinner for all of us which we landed on chilis…. Good thing I was 21 I needed a to go drink…preferably strong!

Sitting in their living room as we all began to eat, Nick scrolled through Max as we sat on the floor with our food on the coffee table.

“We should watch Silver Linings Playbook I heard it was good” I said looking over at the tv as Nick had just passed the movie

“I’m down” Chris said shrugging his shoulders

Nick and I usually watched action movies where we’d see a bunch of sweaty hot men fighting bad guys. And most of those movies we’d just yell out if we’d smash the guys or not. I don’t know that Matt and Chris would want to take part in that so a rom-com was for the win!

Max was playing a few ads before the movie and as I was sipping my margarita in a styrofoam to go cup (how niche) Matt had called my name

Looking over at him I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Do you like rom-coms?” He asked me

I felt my ears getting hot and my face too….good thing I’m drinking and I can just blame it on the alcohol.

“I do, I love them actually” I replied nodding at him

“I love them too” he said smiling at me as he ate a fry

“Nice” I said nodding my head and looking over at the tv…why the fuck were their ads still playing? Squinting I turned back around to face him

“Uhh what’s your favorite?” I asked him clearing my throat

“I’d have to say 10 things I hate about you” he replied wiping his hands

“SHUT UP! Me too” I replied getting really excited and loud (blaming it on the alcohol once again)

“No way” he replied laughing

“No! like I swear! I have all the romance movies I’ve ever seen ranked in my notes app and 10 things I hate about you is number one, look see” I replied rambling as I opened up my app and showed him

His brows raised…an impressed look might I add

“Wow Y/N didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic” he said winning at me

This made my heart flutter and my voice disappear? Sinking into my skin I nodded at him before turning to watch the tv

Throughout the whole movie I kept catching Matt looking at me but he’d look away quickly. This made my skin crawl in a good way though

The movie finished and I found myself emotional. I mean it wasn’t a sad movie but rather beautiful. Nick and Chris had gone to lay on the couch at some point in the movie.

So to no surprise Matt and I turned to find them fast asleep. Shaking our heads we cleaned up the living room and headed to the kitchen to place everything in the trash.

The hallway light illuminating the kitchen as I washed my hands

“I almost feel like Silver Linings Playbook is my number one rom-com” Matt and I both stated at the same time

Laughing I shut the water off and turned towards him

“I guess we really are similar” I said to him as I crossed my arms over my chest

“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t know you’re always running away from me” he said quietly

“Am not!” I replied standing up straight

“You’re always running away from me as fast as possible, you don’t hate me do you” he stated as he wiped down the table

“No” I replied watching his every move

“Then why do you run away? Do I stink?” He asked laughing

“No! You just happen to catch me when I’m busy” I say lying through my teeth

“Right…I suppose so, I do know how to get you at the right time though” he stated throwing the paper out

“Do you?” I asked cocking an eyebrow

“Yeah…when I take you on a date and have all your attention so we can really get to know each other”he says

“Well we’re friends so I do know you” I reply rolling my eyes

“No…know me on a different level that’s not…friends” he says smiling at me sweetly

“Not friends?” Was all I could mutter

“Just say yes to the date you loser” he replied shaking his head

“Yes..sorry yes I will go on a date with you” I replied shaking my head and giggling

“You’ve ever seen Notting Hill?” He suddenly asks me

“I actually haven’t” I stated

“Want to watch it?” He asked me

“But Chris and Nick are sleeping” I replied pointing over my shoulder

“You miss queues don’t you?” He asked cocking an eyebrow

“They don’t call me a ditz for nothing” I replied jokingly

He looked at me with adoration in his eyes for a moment before opening his mouth

“I mean with me…just me” he replied with soft eyes

“Oh....yeah” I replied breathlessly as I shook my head…am I that fucking stupid? I thought to myself

We shut off the tv and the hallway light. Matt led me to his room as I followed behind. It felt so foreign being in a room with a new undertone to it….more than friends

“You can sit closer I won’t bite” he says as he looks over at me

“Right, sorry” I say sitting closer to Matt against the headboard

The air felt awkward as we watched the movie, but Matt slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in

“I’m not a stranger” he replied as he snuggled me closer against him

Smiling against him I melted into his touch as we fell asleep to a romance movie. I guess being shy does work out in the end and I’ve always had it bad for Matt but after today? You’re for sure thinking

She’s got it bad!

The End

I wasn’t sure how to end this…it’s so HARD TO END A STORY WTFFFF. Anywho we’re almost at 2,600 followers🥹🥹. Yall I could cry this means so much to me I remember when I had hit 100 followers and I never thought I’d make it this far. I’m so eternally grateful for you all😩🖤🖤. I know I don’t update three times a day everyday like I used to, but I’m so glad yall are sticking around till this day when I post once to twice a week every two weeks. I don’t deserve you, thank yall so much🥹💕💕💕. Stay tuned for more work baes

-J💅🏽

[nats-revival]

Jealous and possessive abby - not in a toxic or abusive way but maybe you guys went to a party and your ex or some random decided to act up and be crazy and start hitting on you when everyone knows you're hers so she starts getting protective and marking her territory - she never blames you for it but she just wants to remind you who you belong to so she feels better with your consent if course and you find it hot asf

𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

tags: alcohol consumption, mild language, theres a gross man, abby is possessive (per the request), i think that should be everything???, i still stuck at tagging

a/n: was lowkey stuck on this prompt bc i don’t remember the last time i did smth like this but also, i procrastinated like, a lot. tbh i don’t rlly ever proofread anything i write i just post it with a hope and a prayer but wtv! i hope yall enjoy this. 🤍😙😙

bodies filled the house you and abby were currently in. the air smelled like alcohol, sweat, and a mixture of cologne and cheap perfume. this wasn’t particularly your scene, but abby wanted to go since one of her friends were hosting the party. you sorta stood on the wall, nursing a cup of.. something abby mixed for you. she wanted to prepare your drink herself. yknow, cause people are weird and like dropping shit in your drink without your knowledge. the screen of your phone illuminates your features softly under the red and purple LED lights. nobody dared to bother you much because everyone knew you were abbys girl. god, she never shuts up about you! but it’s only because she loves you so much. she also did it because she wanted to make your relationship known, and she’d gladly knock the lights out of anyone who dared to approach you cause she didn’t play that game.

the necklace around your neck had her initial on it. she’d gifted it to you during valentines day last year. it glints a little from the light coming from the screen of your phone. you’d been mid sip when some piss drunk man came stumbling over to you. and suddenly your settings app looked interesting as hell! he stops infront of you with a woozy smile and a flushed face from drinking. lowkey, he was like, really ugly. he’s the kind of guy a girl would only fuck in the dark. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he asked as he looked you up and down with obviously lustful eyes. “ah, im.. actually not alone. im here with someone.” you say as you give him an awkward smile and a chuckle. “i don’t see ‘em. why dontcha come with me? we could go back ‘t my place.. maybe order somethin’ to eat.” you politely decline and give him another awkward smile. while trying to ward this man off, you text abby.

“theres some guy over here flirting w/ me, help!!” you text her while trying as much as possible to ignore the man. he was relentless! he just wouldn’t stop talking and making gross comments. you look up from your phone to find your girlfriend pushing her way to you, through the couples grinding against eachother and making out. she smiles as she approaches you, then wrapping her arm around your shoulders. you lean against her. “so, who’re you?” she asks as she looks at the man, then tossing him an icy glare. “who am i? why should i answer you?” the man had a raised eyebrow and he’d been holding a now empty cup. “well, cause you’re hitting on my girl. so you should probably tell me why you’re doing all this.” her voice was low, raspy and a bit threatening. her possessiveness was dumb attractive, and you surely felt a little hot!!! “hah, this is your girl? she’s outta your league, bro. just give ‘er up. ill treat ‘er soo much better.” the man had become bold. abby didn’t like that. “mm.. nah. she’s fine with me. aren’t you, baby?” she asks as she looks at you. you nod with a small, stupid smile on your face. she presses a kiss on your forehead before she looks back at the man.

her touch had lingered on your skin even when you knew she wasn’t touching you. she sits on one of the chairs with a sigh and you sit next to her. “god, people are so disgusting!” abby said as she lets out an exasperated sigh. she hated when people treated you that way. but you just couldn’t seem to forget that voice she spoke in. the raspiness made this sorta electricity shoot through your veins. she was rambling about something, but you’d began listening when she’d been nearly finished speaking “—that shit wasn’t okay, and nobody should be treating my girl like that. i mean, gosh, some people just really can’t take a hint can they? i was so close to punching him just like id done that other guy but i controlled myself. and, ill just say, it isn’t your fault. i just really don’t like that. you don’t deserve that. not at all.” her voice softens towards the end of her sentence as she places her hand on your thigh gently.

your hand finds itself over hers and you smile at her. “sometimes you gotta punch people for ‘em to understand, yknow?” abby says as she looked at you with the same softened gaze. “abby, no, i will absolutely not be punching anyone… that’s what i have you for. and you hit like, waaaaay harder.” you chuckled. “well, maybe i should show you how to hit real hard.” you shrug, and she smiles at you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “how bout we get outta this shithole?” she suggested with a smile. “oh, yeah. let’s go. im literally starving!” the both of you nod as you begin walking off the porch. as you walk to the sidewalk, the guy from earlier comes running and stumbling out of the house. he was after abby. you noticed and alerted her. “oh shit, we’d better run!” she grabs your hand and the both of you run to her car, giggling and looking back at the man (whos running slow as a snail) and forward at her car.

[fernsnailz]

HI . GET ON THE DISSECTION TABLE. taking your brain RIGHT NOW OH MY GODDDDD. OH MY god ,,, everything in the zine,,,,,

obviously the quality of your work, the art itself is so good ,,,, but OUGHHGGGGHGH i need to bang my head into a wall until im unconscious . like the title itself, starting off . woe mama we are in for a fucked up roboty treat . your comps . your writing . in the most respectful and awestuck tone possible . i need to kill you

my favorite i think is how you draw gemerl ,, all the robots you nail their expressiveness but oughh ,, him in particular makes me kick my feet . 'you are everything i fear becoming' makes me actually tear the fucking floorboards up the themes of autonomy ,,,,,, ,,, and how you storytell through your comic panels,,, the 'what a fool you are to think the doctor is gone' panel set makes me drink 2 Monsters and eat glass

THE . THE IMPOSSIBLE GOAL COMIC RAGHHHHHH. FAV FAV FAV . geninely shaking and trembling looking at it like jesus thats so fucked up ,,, your mind . your writing is so everything !! i would love to get any insight for how you workshop it because it is consistently breathtaking it sticks with me so heavily,,, one time i accidentally stole a line of dialogue word for word from your Never turn back zine comic and had to change it dfhjd,,,,, (wow this line is so cool ! ...a little toooo cool. squint.) but yeah god the last comic wow,, your panel compositions are banger after banger you are so good at consistently writing evocative stuff,,, tragic, rlly funny, hopeful, its so inspirational

thank u so much for putting together such a cool zine, would love to have it physically one day !

GOD. THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS EDIT IS KILLING ME. this is such a rewarding ask to get, i'm so glad you picked up on these things!!

my writing work shopping style is. hm. a bit all over the place. i have a lot of thoughts about it i'll put under a cut if you're interested. there's a lot of little things i've picked up that help me out so so much that i would really love to share!

ok FIRST i should note that it took me so goddamn long to write this thing. like i had the very very VERY first concepts for metal sonic good future like. a year ago. the first scrawlings are literally in a notebook right after some thumbnails i was using for dance in fire and i was editing dialogue up until two days ago. i'm ill

BUT!!! there are a few things i like to keep in mind when i write/edit that have really helped me!

GET OTHER PEOPLE TO READ YOUR STUFF. ESSENTIAL STEP. i get stuck in holes with my work a lot and having beta readers and other eyes on this thing made it like a million times better

sometimes you have to kill your baby. there will be certain lines or moments that you ADORE that simply don't fit into the larger piece, and you gotta just cut it out to make it better sometimes. but usually this gives birth to an even cooler and more epic baby. or sometimes your killed baby is also resurrected later to be used in a different scene. does this make any sense

figuring out what emotion you want a scene to make people feel is very important - with this in mind, i also pay really close attention to how my writing or scene concepts make me feel physically. i think this is the thing that has helped me most with work shopping anything i want to be evocative. does a line make me tense my jaw? make my teeth vibrate? make my chest tight? do i suddenly feel the blood in my hands? if it makes me feel something within my body, i try to draw on that physical sensation when forming the rest of the scene.

ok this last one is. stupid. as i was wrapping up this thing i went through a final edit phase i'd call "Garten of Banban Vision." Garten of Banban is an indie horror game that has uhhh kinda mid dialogue. a lot of it focuses on exposition, and any emotion in it feels a bit hollow. with this in mind, i read through everything one last time and imagined like all of the lines were from a Garten of Banban game and spoken in the character's monotone voices. if the line felt like it could fit a little too well in the Garten of Banban world, i considered editing it. but if i started thinking "oh shit this is pretty good for a Garten of Banban game" i knew it was fine. do you understand what i was alluding to when i said my writing process is a bit all over the place

in conclusion. writing hard

[misc-obeyme]

MC Talks Back

This was another suggestion from @oakley-tree1 for MC being disrespectful/talking back. I was inspired to write this as a scene rather than headcanons. I did my best with the bros, I hope they're not too OOC lol. I felt like it made the most sense for MC to talk back to Lucifer, so that's basically what happens, but all the brothers are present.

Thank you for the request, I hope it's not too far off from what you were thinking!

GN!MC

Warnings: MC getting sassy, but otherwise nothing.

It had been a particularly grueling week in the Devildom. You had so many projects you needed to work on, things you needed to take care of, and a bunch of demons who constantly needed your attention. You weren't even sure how you managed to balance everything.

Not only had you managed to calm down Satan after a particularly intense bout of wrathful destruction, you had also waited in line for hours with Levi so he could get some limited edition merch. Later on in the week, you had given Mammon a bunch of Grimm when he asked, mostly because you didn't care to know what he was going to do with it.

It had been a long week and you were tired. So it was nice to finally be sitting at the dinner table with the brothers at the end of the week. You were eating some kind of weird Devildom cuisine, but it tasted good even if you weren't sure what it was. Didn't Beel say something about shadow hog?

You weren't particularly paying attention to the usual bickering and banter going on around you. At this point, it was comforting background noise.

You did notice when Lucifer put down his fork, mostly because this was usually a signal that he was about to start lecturing someone. The entire table would get to listen as he rambled at length about their image and so on and so forth.

"MC."

You looked up at him, surprised. You weren't expecting him to start lecturing you. You hadn't done anything wrong lately, right? You began wracking your brain, trying to think of what it could be.

"It has come to my attention that you lent quite a lot of money to Mammon," Lucifer said.

You blinked. That wasn't exactly unusual. You glanced at Mammon. He was sitting beside you and while he'd been acting normal all evening, he was now clearly sweating bullets. His eyes kept darting between you and Lucifer, not settling on either of you.

Okay, so this was about something Mammon probably did with the money you gave him. You didn't even know what he wanted it for, but did it really matter?

Although you could feel your irritation rising, you kept your cool as you replied, "I don't see how that's any of your business."

The room went silent. You could sense all the brothers staring at you in shock as you calmly took another bite of your dinner.

You looked over at Lucifer, as if daring him to say anything else. You were sure he was going to look angry, but to your surprise, he smirked.

"Allow me to clear it up for you," Lucifer said. "That money was spent on counterfeit Wersace bags that he has been attempting to sell online."

You shrugged. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

Suddenly you could feel Mammon gripping your leg beneath the table. He was squeezing so hard you could feel his nails through your clothes. You looked back at him for a moment to see that he looked absolutely terrified.

"That's right," Satan said unexpectedly into the following silence. "It really has nothing to do with MC. After all, how could they know how Mammon would spend that money?"

"They should know better by now," Lucifer said, frowning. He folded his arms. "And it was quite a large amount."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter!" Mammon suddenly burst out. "I already stopped tryin' to sell 'em! I got rid of all the merchandise like ya told me to. What difference does it make how I got 'em to begin with?"

You narrowed your eyes a little. This behavior was pretty suspicious.

From across the table, Asmo giggled. "He just doesn't want you guys to find out that he didn't know they were counterfeits."

"Shaddup!" Mammon's grip on your leg somehow got tighter. "I knew exactly what I was lookin' at!"

You pulled at his wrist to get him to let go of you. "If you've already gotten rid of them and everything, why are we even talking about this?"

"I'm concerned about your tendency to give in to my brothers' every whim," Lucifer said. "Especially when it comes to lending money to Mammon."

"Oi!" Mammon protested.

You rolled your eyes. "It isn't like it's a big deal. You just need to chill out."

You could hear the sound of Belphie attempting to hold in his laughter from the other side of you. Satan was also struggling to keep his expression neutral.

Lucifer's frown deepened. "Do you know what it was like for me to explain to Lord Diavolo why my younger brother was selling Wersace knockoffs?"

"I'm sure it was most terrible," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But honestly if Lord Diavolo isn't used to this kind of thing by now, he really needs to get with it."

Belphie was nearly shaking with laughter beside you. Mammon, on the other hand, looked like he was afraid for your life.

"I'm pretty sure Lord Diavolo doesn't care as much as Lucifer does," Levi said absently, his eyes on the video game in his hands. "He always just laughs when you tell him about this kind of thing."

"Anyway, what I choose to do with my money is what I consider to be none of your business. I'll give it to whoever I want," you said. You stood up from the table and pushed your half full plate across it. "You want the rest of my food, Beel?"

"Yes," Beel said seriously before he began demolishing what was left of your dinner.

Mammon caught up to you as you started walking back to your room.

"What was that about?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder as though he expected Lucifer to come after you both any second. "It ain't like ya to talk back like that."

You sighed. "I've just had a long week and I didn't want to listen to a lecture. Did you really not know that you bought fakes?"

Mammon flushed a little. "Course I knew!"

You gave him a look.

He folded his arms and looked away from you. "M-maybe I didn't…"

You laughed a little and bumped into him as you walked. "Maybe next time you'll be more careful about what you buy with my money."

"Sh-shaddup!" Mammon said and you laughed again.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[kozumesphone]

02 ✦ pushing me further, pulling me closer, some sorta chemistry ? ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : hdjwjdjjs this part took a while to post even tho I had all the content ready, sorryyyy 😭🙏 also the fluff in this chapter is so cute, if I do say so myself hehe. look forward to the next chapter too (: ! plus, since this series is only a five-part fic, everything is much more fast paced than I wanted it to be. so i’ll probably end up writing bonus scenes for backstories or the aftermath of the ending (: anywayy, hope you enjoy mls ilysm <3 thanks for reading 🩶

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : oc (jae-won) to add some drama , oc (ae-ri) : y/n’s best friend at her school , fake dating , hyune and reader attend prep school , holding hands , swearing a little bit (‘bitch’) , name-calling (‘loser’) , mention of hyune meeting reader’s parents , unserious talks about marriage and blessings , best friend!hyunjin , non-idol au , high school au , f!reader , best friends who do more-than-best-friends things , fluff , smart!hyune x smart!reader , cutesy hand holding , banter ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 947

DAY #02 . . .

the next day, hyunjin told me he was going on a trip with his family, so he wouldn’t come to prep school. I wondered if I should just attend my classes online since he won’t be there anyway.

I quickly texted him an hour before I left for prep school.

‘so, you aren’t coming today?’

he didn’t read my message even by the time I was leaving for prep school, so I just assumed he had no internet, wherever he was.

I decided to attend my classes offline since the other guys would be there too.

I walked to prep school with my earphones in, playing my ‘anti-romantic’ playlist, wondering how my imaginary boyfriend would walk with me everyday, if I had one.

about 10 minutes after the class settled down, hyunjin ran into class. he looked at me as soon as he entered, and I opened my mouth in a look of betrayal.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna come! I almost didn’t come today because of that!” I whisper-yelled at him, as he unzipped his bag, taking his seat beside me.

“‘course I came. I couldn’t miss seeing your pretty face, now, could I?” he smirked at me, and class continued.

our physics and biology lectures ended soon enough, and all of us walked down the stairs to the ground floor.

we stood outside the building, talking and laughing, like always, as we waited for each of our friends to get picked up by their parents, because they lived farther away.

felix, who lives closer that the others, split ways from us soon, as we began walking home.

hyunjin always drops me home before walking to his house, because he lives just a little farther than I do, and my house was on the way to his.

as we were walking to my house, one of the new kids from our school, jae-won, who my friends thought liked me, was also behind us. he lived in the same apartment as I did, and went to the same prep school too, just for different classes.

he was always kind of weird, though, and definitely did not understand the concept personal space whatsoever. and I did not like him at all. I told hyunjin the same thing, twice, before. he also thought jae-won was creepy.

“you know what we should do?” hyunjin whispered to me.

I had thought about it a few times before and wondered if I should really ask hyunjin the question i’d been meaning to.

“what if we… fake date… just in front of jae-won?” I asked.

“I was literally just thinking the exact same thing,” he grinned at me. I smiled in relief. “I have the practical experience, and you have so much of the theory experience, don’tcha?”

I gasped at his mention of my binge reading era of romance novels with the fake dating tropes. he truly did know me at my weirdest moments, huh.

something also itched in my brain at his mention of ‘practical experience’. I knew he had one bitchy girlfriend before, and I knew what they were up to, but still.

he suddenly held my hand, glancing over his shoulder to make sure jae-won was still watching, and started swinging our hands together. way too much.

“oi! you’re gonna break my ball and socket joint!” I yelled, as he swung our arms in circles.

“oh, smartypants! stop studying so much,” he complained at my use of ‘ball and socket joint’ instead of just ‘shoulder’.

“not my fault we just studied that, like, five minutes ago,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

jae-won caught up with us in a while, and hyunjin whispered to me, smiling, “he probably saw all that.”

I hope he did.

jae-won stepped into the elevator and waited for me.

“oh, she’ll come later, you can go. good night,” hyunjin smiled, and jae-won nodded quietly, letting the automatic door close.

as soon as the doors closed, we both burst out laughing.

the next elevator was taking too long to come down, so we decided to walk up eight floors to my house.

such a bad idea.

“I should never have stopped going for my athletics classes,” I whined.

“how are you already tired? we’re literally still at the 3rd floor!” he laughed.

“shut up!”

he pulled our hands together, lacing his fingers through mine. “you don’t even know how to hold hands,” he rolled his eyes.

“excuse me, I hold hands with ae-ri everyday,” I said. he rolled his eyes again, and continued talking as if I never spoke. loser.

“you know that prank? one day i’d propose to you, and you’d think it was a joke, but i’d be serious? and then you’d say ‘yes’ and we’d end up being legally married?” he said, laughing.

“oh my god! that’s literally the plot of a book I saw on instagram!” I said, and explained a book plot to him.

the whole time our fingers were interlaced, I almost forgot about it.

we reached the eighth floor, and I said, “you should come say hi to my mum. she hasn’t seen you in two weeks. it’s the weekend anyway, come on. you’ll need my parents’ blessings if you wanna get married to me anyway,” I smirked.

“oh, i’m coming, fine, but don’t worry. I know I already have their blessings,” he smirked back at me. I mumbled a ‘whatever’ and rang my door bell.

the next 20 minutes were spent in conversation between my parents and him about how studies were going, and slowly the topic of the conversation shifted to the latest movies being released.

I could get used to this sight forever, I thought.

prev < m.list > next

[aetherdoesthings]

I heard you wanted requests and I came running Aether. I fucking bolted. I cannot tell you how fast I pressed the 'ask' button. Also, if you're still sick make sure to take care of yourself first before doing requests!!!!

Anyways. Robin x gn!reader requested as always :3333 so there's this specific scene in my head thats been playing in my head lately and I crave hurt/comfort.

Either Robin or Reader being insecure about having scars and thinking their body, and the other reassures them that they love them regardless by kissing them/tracing them. And it's a bit suggestive? Like it's not meant to be sexual but one of the two is at least half-naked. I'm not sure if this is okay to request as an anon. If not, totally reject this, but I oust thought it's a cute idea.

And need I remind you that regardless you do it or not ill always love your work and will patiently wait if you do? No, I don't? Great. Anyways, love ya aether my beloved, stop manifesting hanahaki

-Enies Lobby anon (patiently waiting for pt.4 of hanahaki [I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure])

you can tell by that last statement how long this ask was asked 😭

forethoughts: apologies this took a while; this one hit a little too close to home for me :_). there's been a lot happening in my life, including but not limited to a stalking man whom tried to manipulate me :D. regardless, i hope you enjoy this one!! went back to my roots of a nico robin lover for this.

notes: made this one fem!reader because i wanted to write this to my younger self. robin is naked in this. they don't fuck, but robin and reader is like 1 1/2 naked. really soft and fluffy. word count: 2k

“Do you have anything else you have to do tonight, Y/N?” You looked up from the book Robin had gifted you, to find the gifter herself standing in your doorframe, her arms resting on top of one another as she gave you a warm smile. You slipped a piece of paper in the pages of the book, before standing up and facing your girlfriend. 

“Uhm, no, not really. Why’d you ask?” You replied. It wasn’t uncommon for Robin to suddenly pop up in your room ever since you had confessed your feelings to her. Although you slept in her room now, you still used your room as your study to do your work and to hide from everyone else when your social battery went down. 

“I was just wondering if you would like to join me for a bath. We’ve been together for quite a while now, and if you’re alright with it, I’d like it if we could bathe together.” Robin proposed.

Your heart did a backflip, dropping all the way to your stomach. You knew this day would come; you just didn’t know it would come this soon. Ever since you had confessed your feelings to Robin, the day that the two of you would be comfortable enough to bathe together was like a doomsday countdown in your mind. It wasn’t that you did not want to see what Robin looked like underneath two layers of clothing, but something else that had been gnawing at you for years of your life.

“Uhm…” That was the only sound that escaped out of your mouth; the rest were lost in the abyss of your mind. 

“It’s alright if you’re not comfortable; I do not wish to do something that makes you feel uncomfortable for my sake. Still, you should still take a bath soon. It’s getting late.”

“Well…” You sighed, shaking your head. Your fingers twiddled around the hem of your shirt, scrunching it up and releasing it. You could feel Robin’s eyes casted onto the top of your head, encouraging the neurons in your brain to speed up and think of an answer. 

“I… I guess… I should take a bath… we could do it together…” You regurgitated each word, looking at the wooden floorboards. Robin’s eyes analyzed your entire body, nitpicking each detail and examining your facial expressions. She did that everytime you were upset or doing something uncharacteristic. Still, it made you feel like you were under scrutiny by your own girlfriend who had also confessed her love to you. 

“Are you sure?” Robin simply asked.

“Y-Yeah. Totally.” You nodded your head, despite your eyes still downcast. Robin let out a sigh, accepting that you weren’t going to give her any other answer.

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

Everyone had unpredictable showering schedules: Luffy and Zoro could go on for a week, Usopp and Chopper every three days, and everyone else would shower every day. Franky had built bathhouses for each gender, so that you, Nami and Robin wouldn’t have to share the same bathhouse with Sanji. Compared to the boy’s, the bathhouse you shared with Nami and Robin always smelled like tangerines or lavender, depending on who used it last. The water was warm (thankfully), and every amenity you could ever need for person hygiene was available. 

Since Nami had just used the shower, the room was filled with the smell of tangerines. You didn’t mind it; you were used to the smell after being part of the Straw Hats for a while. You walked into the bathhouse behind Robin, your eyes gazing at the woman face a wall, removing her clothes without any problem at all. One second, that navy blue jacket and salmon sarong skirt was on her body. The next, she was fully naked and already heading towards the tub. Your feet were glued to the wooden planks below, eyes glued to the sight in front of you. 

Your contact with her was severed as Robin turned her head to look at you, a quizzical look on her face as she observed your fully clothed body standing feets away from the tub. A phantom flick on your forehead brought you back to reality, your mind racing with thoughts that triumphed over Robin's voice.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” The four words drove into that tiny bottle you kept near your heart, cracks starting to appear. Robin had moved closer to the edge of the tub, a hand resting on the wooden frame. Her brows were furrowed, her lips pursed as her eyes analyzed your body again, reading you like a poneglyph.

In the midst of the bathhouse, you could hear your heartbeat thud over the sound of the water moving around. If you could hear it, Robin could definitely hear it too. There was no point in hiding anything from her; she was Nico Robin. 

In your silence, Robin spoke again. “Is something on your mind that’s bothering you? Would you like to talk about it?”

Robin was always aware of how you felt at any given moment, and she was always willing to give you space and let you decide how you wanted to proceed with anything. Robin was the buoy you desperately clinged onto in the middle of a raging storm in the seas. The rope was never weathered down by the heavy downpour. Everytime Robin did something, said something, you could feel your body moving along with the rope, dragging you ever so close to the place you knew you were safe in.

Safe. Safe. That was what Robin was. Safe. With her around, you always felt safe. She always listened and paid attention to all your needs and made sure you were alright. She always went out of the way to make sure you were healthy and well. She was the one that was there to remind you you were loved when you yourself forgot to. Safe.

“Uhm…” Your voice cracked; even with just one word you could feel the corners of your eyes beginning to burn and body shaking alongside the ship. “T-There’s something that is on my mind, and i-is bothering me.”

You were actually doing this. Every part of your body was screaming at you, protesting and shutting down. Despite what you thought and believed, your body rebelled. You couldn’t blame your body; of course they would try and protect you from harm or stepping into unknown territories.

Robin stayed quiet, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. It was her way of telling you that you were welcome to say whatever you wanted, and she would be there to listen.

“I…” You bit your dry and cracked lips, looking down at your feet. “Remember that fight we had with the marines a few weeks ago?”

“Yes. I recall you were injured.” Robin’s stoic expression broke as she remembered your injury that left you immobile. However, she does not interject, letting you continue.

“It’s better; Chopper says I’m okay now, but…” You sighed. “Ever since then… I’ve become scared. I’ve become terrified to look in the mirror without my clothes on, let alone have anything that exposes… you know.”

A steady stream of air exits out of Robin’s mouth. When no words could roll off your tongue, Robin stood up from the tub, drying herself with the help of her multitude of hands. She walked over to you, causing your heartbeat to feign a heart attack. “May I?”

“S-Sure.” You didn’t know what Robin was going for, but you weren’t too disappointed with the results. Robin set the back of her fingers alongside your cheek, before cupping your face with both of her hands, tilting your head to face her.

“My darling…” Robin whispered, her hands moving down to your shoulders. “Can I see? Please.”

“Why do you want to see something… horrendous?”

Robin frowned at your choice of words, shaking her head. “Y/N, nothing about you is horrendous. Your mind, your body, your heart, none of that. You are perfect. You are who you are, no matter what. Please don’t call yourself horrendous when all I can see is goodness and kindness. I don’t want you to be terrified of the shell that protects that loving and caring heart of yours. I don’t want to see you be ashamed and afraid of your own skin.”

The corners of your eyes begin to burn. With just one blink, the floodgates burst open. You stood there in front of Robin, your shoulders rising and falling, choked and garbled sobs exiting your mouth as tears rolled down your face. Your heart churned, fighting off that foreign feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time. A paradox of emotions. You felt so wrong for breaking down in front of the person you called home, but so… good for breaking down in front of the person you called home.

“Shh… Sh… it’s alright. You’re safe. You’re safe, Y/N. You’re alright.” Robin’s arms wrapped around your head, pulling you closer to her chest. Her still nude chest. In any other circumstances you’d be thrilled at the situation you were in. But vulnerability overpowered lust, and you let out a choked sob, burying your head in between Robin’s supple breasts, allowing yourself to melt into your touch and allowing yourself to be comforted. Drunk on overwhelming comfort and love, you didn’t even notice Robin’s duplicate hands lift your shirt up. You reluctantly removed your hands around Robin’s neck, moving away from your lifeline as your armor was stripped away. A choked protest exited your mouth as Robin placed her hands on your bare shoulders, not allowing you to run to her like a child to her mother. The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing, running faster than your heart was. When that familiar feeling of her hand removed, you stopped breathing, the deafening silence filling the room. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. She’s mad. She’s disgusted. She’s repulsed. She’s-

Soft lips were planted on one of the many scars littered on your body, then again, trailing downwards. Robin’s tongue flicked against your bruises, kissing it and swirling around the area. Her hands were around your waist, head making its way towards every scar you bore. Every kiss, every little touch or lick sent spiders up your spine, a shocked gasp involuntarily leaving your mouth. 

“My beautiful. My beautiful Y/N.” Robin murmured, her breath against the most vulnerable and hidden spots of your body. You stifled a gasp, your hand shooting up to your mouth as Robin continued to kiss every single abnormality from your skin. “My beautiful. My strong Y/N. I am so proud of you. I am so proud of you for being so brave. I love you so much. My love, in this vast world, you alone are the epitome of grace, the prettiest in the world. How could I ever be repulsed by the sight I see?”

Robin stood up, her hands slithering from your waist to your cheeks, as she wiped your tears away. She looked at you with a smile, kissing your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. When you couldn’t breathe and choked on your breath, she was there, giving you the oxygen in her lungs to breathe, to stabilize yourself. When your legs couldn’t hold your body, she was there, holding you up with her arms. 

When you couldn’t speak, when all you could make was choked sobs and unintelligible rambles like a baby, Robin was there. She was always there. “My love, never be ashamed of the scars on you. They are a testimony to the challenges you face. They tell the story of a battle you fought, and won. Do not deny them, for your scars do not make you weak. They make you strong. My strong beautiful Y/N. My love.”

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

And now i need ...

to shout and write about this wonderful fanfic

The last Angel by @bellisima-writes

What it is about:

Crowley's been Hell's Grand Inquisitor for millennia now. Ever since the Apocalypse, he's managed to carve out a relatively cushy life for himself. Hell won the War, Angels were essentially eradicated and all human souls were Satan's. Everything was fine.

Until one day he hears a rumor that the Last Angel in the universe was finally captured. Until Beelzebub is suddenly ordering him to get information from said Angel, information that's critical for Hell's survival. Until the moment he first locks eyes with the last Angel, and everything he's ever known starts to crumble around him.

OR

An AU where we see what would have happened had Aziraphale and Crowley not been assigned to Earth.

What i liked most:

🩷 this story takes you on a ride. There might be times when you are dizzy (in a good way) and not sure if you understood the plot correctly or if you got lost along the way. Trust me, stay with the story and keep on reading. It will all play out.

🤓 there is not one armageddon and not two, there are (kind of) three. The storyline is incredibly sophisticated and thought through. Not only in itself but also often picking up on scenes in S1 or S2 and offering thoughts and points of view that show just how much care and love and brain-wax (is that even a word in english?) went into this story. I had several moments thinking "wow, this is really SO so clever!"

💪 bamf Aziraphale !!! Sorry, i am a sucker for him 😁

👌 again the actionscenes in the grand finale are like a movie in your head and really gripped my pulse.

🌶 only hints to smut inside, but tenderness and the undeniable bond between our ineffables. I was outsmutted before and was glad to have a break (Uh, i cant believe i said that. 😂)

🩷 the parting words to the readers had me crying. I have read so many fics but this one was the first to really say goodbye to me/us/the readers. Such a nice gesture!

Most beloved quote:

Aziraphale cried at the awareness that this was not a kiss that was the beginning of everything he had never let himself dare to openly want. This was a kiss that marked the end of the thing he had denied himself for his entire existence, and the one thing he desperately needed.

So if you want a long story to really dive-in to, with surprising plot-twists and lots of brains, love and action, you really should give this wonderful fic a try! 😇

Reading is not a hobby, its life-giving.

[nadianova]

How much time do you spend planning some of your visual novels? At least going by some of them being jam submissions, it feels like you go from pre-production to a finished build very quickly, and it's amazing how you can manage that while still having an awesome story and so many assets.

Also, what is like, the process of planning a story out for you, if there's any vague or concrete similarities that you've noticed?

i think the important context here is that if i get bored/have nothing to do i jhust immediately get really suicidal its like ridiculous how bad it gets(ITS FINE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT IVE HAD 5 YEARS OF THERAPY). so i hate being bored and want to occupy my time wit something fun whatever that is. if i have a project to focus on but especially if I'm working for a game jam i have a deadline and i just decide to myself okay i will release a game now.

because ive made a decent amount of games i roughly have an idea on my capabilities, i can estimate how long it takes for me to write a story so and so long and how long it takes for me to draw stuff i need and how long it takes for me to throw stuff in renpy. these are estimates like as in I'm not accurate with it but still enough that i generally know where to start cutting ideas since the most important part is just having something to submit. i also know to plan around my brain wanting to slam my head into a wall an my hands suddenly giving up on being able to draw.

i think thats the beauty of game jams it forces you to just go for it and release something. releasing a 'bad' game is better than no game at all. experience only comes over time and i think just going for it is the best approach there is. like its literally 2 weeks 1 month whatever of your life. if you have the time and motivation go for it. make it work or fuck it up it wont matter in the grand scheme of things

im not sure what is the motivation behind the question but i do want to point out that this is just my method (if you can even call it a method) and the only way to figure out what works for you is to just try until you find something that actually works for you

idk not everyone will find it doable/fun to plan around spending two weeks gamedev 10 hours a day just cause i wanted to fit in 100 cgs for a jam game but apparently i can do that when i cheat my stupid adhd brain into hyperfocus with adhd meds

READMORE BECAUSE I CANT STOP RAMBLING

as for planning tho i think ideas on their own are worthless and its always about execution in the end. a great idea or a meh idea are the same for me but i do still enjoy the planning process so i keep notes

like i see a great tumblr post or i see some art or visual novel has some scene that inspires me: i save that shit for myself

having a big collection of random floating ideas like that helps me easily pick from especially during a jam type duration. right now i have like 4-5 half-baked project skeletons, some are literally like 3 pictures and some like naomida are a hundred hours worth of me writing world building about how the toilets work in a city with no plumbing cause its -30celcius(i love bringing this up)=

i dont normally plan that much, i tend to just wing it. like for malmaid i seriously just had some rough ideas and just went along as i wrote

same thing for dddeviance i had a handful of scenes that i really wanted to make and knew what kind of start and end it was meant to have and just figured out how to fill the in between. a lot of plot points changed vastly like halfway through i realised my devil + angel combination was stupid and i should just go for fallen angel + angel.

i think there really is no simple answer tho (as evident from the long as hell post) i don't really have a 'process' because every single game has been worked on has come with different type of planning since I'm always trying new stuff to try and distract me from boredom. like I've been using obsidian for naomida while previously I've just used a empty discord serve as my notes app for malmaid and dddeviance

and tbh with naomida I'm running to a new problem where I'm definitely planning too much. like I'm spending too much time fidgeting with details in chapter 4 even when i haven't finished writing chapter 1 just cause its so easy to get in the loop of "oh ill just change this one line" and boom 20 mins spent playing with my notes that didn't really progress my game since by the time i reach this point the whole scene might have shifted to something else

.

but if i had to squeeze an answer itd be something like everything related to my art or writing or games is just like "oooooo that seems fun i should remember this for later" and then i just string 10-100 of those into a story

i tend to write my stories in a format of

character A does this and that

this happens here

puppy play ryona piss orgasm

new day and then this happens here

sad thing happens

more piss orgasm

the end

and just like start filling in more details and working on my story in a nonlinear fashion until i feel like i have a strong enough skeleton that i can start writing my scenes. i hop around a lot, often preferring to write the fun scenes first like ero stuff or the ones I'm the most interested in and then the rest is just filling the blanks and stringing the cool scenes together

[sillybucket]

“I’m here” { Johnathan Ohnn/Spot x g/n reader }

Dude - this guy conquered my heart ever since the first scene of him stealing the ATM machine got released !

I can’t get enough of how chaotic and adorable the Spot is , so I thought it would’ve been fun to write a little fanfic for him :D

As always I apologize for eventual ooc moments , and if someone already wrote something similar to this know it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : some depictions of the Alchemax accident are present at the start , nothing too graphic but still look out if that’s something that could make you uncomfortable !

This story features Johnathan waking up from a bad dream about his transformation with the reader comforting him … I just really wanna give him a hug :,( ❣️

⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . … a sudden bright light …

… the deafening noise of the Collider exploding …

… the rumbling of the building falling apart …

Johnathan’s heart was pounding in his chest , his breathing sharp and frightened as he held on to his experiment with shaky hands while desperately trying to make his way outside the room , constantly tripping onto the pieces of the collapsing lab …

… why … ?

… why was this happening … ?!

Suddenly , the sound of glass shattering pierced through his ears , and as he looked down he realized …

“No … ! NO !!”

The capsule had broke , and when the dark matter contained inside it surrounded him and entered his body he couldn’t help but let out a terrified scream :

… the pain …

It felt like holes were forming on his skin , making parts of it disappear into nothingness …

And his face …

Johnathan could clearly feel his features vanishing , from his eyes , to his nose , to his mouth and even his ears …

All gone in an instant .

The man fell to his knees in agony , his body shaking as he tried looking at his hands …

They looked … bigger … unfamiliar … they didn’t feel like they were his at all , they didn’t even look like a part of him anymore .

“No … no no … nono no no no plea- no … nono …”

Johnathan sobbed uncontrollably , covering his now empty face with his arms , and everything around him seemed to become blurry and faded …

…

…

“Johnny … ?”

…

“Johnny , love …”

That voice … he knew that voice …

Slowly Johnathan woke up and got up in a sitting position on the bed , looking around the room while taking a few shaky breaths :

he was home … he was safe in (y/n)’s apartment , and they were right there next to him … that thought immediately managed to comfort him .

“(Y/n) … ?”

, he whispered , moving one hand towards their face to caress their cheek , almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure if what he was seeing was real .

“Yeah I’m here , I’m right here …”

They gave him a sweet , tired smile while holding his hand in theirs , suppressing a yawn .

“Did you have the dream again ?”

Johnathan nodded in response , the vivid memory of his transformation sending a shiver down his spine …

The man just didn’t seem to be able to escape it , no matter how much time had passed … he had even found himself a loving partner who accepted and cared for him despite his … unusual looks , and yet the events of that day were still haunting him , tattooed in his brain and following him wherever he went .

“It’s okay though , I’m good now . You should get back to sleep while you still can , I know you have work tomorrow …”

(Y/n) shook their head , moving closer to hold him in their arms while gently caressing his back .

“I’m gonna stay awake with you until you fall asleep , Johnny … I’ll be okay tomorrow , don’t worry .”

, they replied , burying their face in his chest .

Johnathan remained silent for a moment before hugging them back , slowly laying down with them on the bed once more . Their warmth immediately calmed him down , and as he placed his forehead against theirs he couldn’t help but smile to himself …

“Thank you (y/n) …”

After a while , they both fell asleep in each other’s arms , and no more bad dreams came to bother their peaceful slumber .

⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ .

Thank you so much for reading this little fanfic until the end ! :D

I’ll definitely be writing more for the Spot , I just really enjoy coming up with cute , fluffy scenarios with him :,) ❤️ Feel free to leave some feedback if you feel like it !

[fic-heaven]

The three fools

Random trope: You break up with them

Unedited/ mentions of homophobia/ cheating/ angst/ violence/ family drama

🐥I've watched too many reddit stories and needed to write sum succulent angst~😩

.

Gustavo Rodríguez (Gus)

-You broke up with Gustavo because he was more in love with his ambitions than he ever was with you.

-You had loved and supported him through everything his entire life, his passion for surf, his unbreakable love for his family, his silliness, his slight awkwardness on the first few dates you two had...

-But the day an eighteen year old Gus told you about this retired US Marine he met while giving surfing classes to some tourists, your whole relationship changed.

-You loved him and he loved you. But suddenly the idea of protecting Costa Rica at it's entirety from cartel and to later protecting the whole world... Made Gustavo's love for you lessen as his heart focused mainly on his new dream of saving lives. Or at least that's how you felt it...

-Seeing him daily on the beach turned into three days a week, later one single day a week and soon it became a miracle. Oh but that was only when he was a cop... Once he got the chance to become more, a higher ranked officer with more responsibilies in another city?

-Gus went home that day (you two lived together then because of an ugly fight about him barely being in your life anymore) he was eager to tell you all about this new job and the excitement he radiated brought a weak smile on your face. You loved his passionate spirit, but you dreaded his absence...

-He said you guys had to move cities for this job and you straight up said "no." After a very heated argument about his job, about the life and family you were leaving behind because of HIS ambitions... You told him he should feel free to leave.

-"There's no one I love more than you." You said.

-"Then come. Support me like you've always done! If I'm so important to you, mi amor... Why don't you please, PLEASE, come with me!? Cómo diablos is this going to work if I don't have you by my side!?"

- "I stopped being important to you the moment that American planted the seed of a new dream inside your brain, Gus... Now answer me. Would you chose your dream over our future together?"

-That wasn't fair. He went silent, his lower lip quivering under his moustache. He tried blinking the tears away, big hands flexing on the rails of your porch.

-The way Gus looks at you with betrayal and heartbreak written all over his glossy amber eyes will haunt you forever. And yet... You spent so many nights grieving his absence that breaking up with him now felt... Inevitable..."

-"I'll pack your stuff and send it to your mom's. Good luck on this new job, osito... I knew you could make it... I always have faith in you and I know you will do better for this country and wherever you go."

-"Pero yo te amo, princesa-" He choked out in a sob, he was trembling, legs giving up under his weight until he fell on his knees not caring if any neighbors saw you and the scene unfolding on your porch.

-"I want to marry you... I want to see the world with you... Have children..." Gus cried, voice cracking constantly in pain, his long lashes wet as fat tears ran across his face. It was such a heartbreaking sight you felt like you were dying.

-"Don't make this more difficult than it already is Gus..."

-And with that, you closed the door behind you leaving a broken man on your doorstep.

-Soon his father and sister came to collect Gustavo's things without saying a word to you, his dad did look at you in sorrow clearly saddened by how things had turned. And his sister? After collecting everything and before leaving she slapped you across the face and that was the last interaction you had with his family.

Enzo Reyes (Reyes)

-You left Reyes because he betrayed your heart.

-You two met when you were transfered from KorTac to SpecGru.

-You couldn't stand each other but eventually with much help from your two mutual friends and coworkers, Reyes relented on being an asshole and you actually started to enjoy his annoying self.

-A few months passed being friends until you confessed and to your surprise he voiced his reciprocation. Though you never felt like it was sincere enough.

-One year together and the fights you used to have at the beginning returned. It came as a surprise, how irritable this man had become from one day to the other... The mood swings worried you.

-So you did what you tried to avoid doing ever since the pointless fights begun. You gave Reyes an ultimatum, and he laughed like it was the funniest joke, like he didn't believe you had the courage to leave him over how irritable he had gotten.

-You felt like someone had kicked you in the gut, it suddenly hit you that perhaps you truly were at fault here. That perhaps he was right, that you were seeing too much Into things and were being unfair, that you had to accept how your lover was.

-Enzo didn't seem as tense after seeing you less reactive to his sudden bursts of anger and weeks later, the Canadian could feel nothing but pity for you and shame on himself.

-He told you this while being drunk as a Dane. Though he never really explained why, you thought he felt ashamed for treating you wrongly and that wasn't far from the truth.

-The reality was, Enzo started feeling bad about the affair he was hiding behind your back.

-Half a year into your relationship he had met this beautiful civilian girl who worked on a mall near the base and lived closer to his apartment. At first they just shared small talk as he was a regular at the coffee shop she ran, but soon he invited her to his apartment and many outings together (while you were off on missions too far to know what was happening) they begun having intercourse. It wasn't serious, just a quick fuck and she'd be gone.

-What Reyes realized when you celebrated your one year anniversary was that he had started craving her touch so often while you guys were working or at base together it made him lash out to you for the stupidest of reasons. That's why he felt shame. Not because he was cheating on you, but because he couldn't keep his composure.

-The fool thought he actually had enough reasons to cheat on you and promised himself that if you were to find out he'd straight up admit it and excuse himself. Because you'd understand, right?

-So one day you two sat on the old couch of the base, his arm wrapped around you while you scrolled through his gallery reminiscing in old memories Reyes had captured and held on lovingly on multiple albums on his phone. But something picked your attention.

-There was an album called "her". He didn't name it after you, that's weird...

-But when you pressed to open it he was too late to make you unsee what you saw. There were tons of nudes and videos of himself and some other woman you have never seen. You were silent thinking at first that perhaps this was his ex and these were old pictures he had forgotten to delete... But looking at Reyes... He was already explaining the cheating like he was talking about his gym routine.

-You stood up then and he took his phone from your hands with a quick snatch and a carefully put neutral expression.

-Enzo rolled his eyes thinking he'd have to endure your temper tantrum but thought it was fair since you always seemed to endure his.

-Instead, you whispered with a constricting throat: "I'm sure she's worth it, Reyes." You never called him by his last name and he didn't like this broken side of you one bit. "Good luck."

-"Sure. Call me when you stop crying so we can talk this like real adults, we could even go on dates the three of us together. Wouldn't that be nice?" He smirked and you were gone chosing to spare yourself from suffering more of this...

-Reyes though you'd be okay by the end of the week but he never saw you again.

-It's like the weight of the world got on his shoulders when one of the other operators casually mentioned that you had gotten transfered once more.

-After, he had broken things off with the civilian girl and begun his incessant search for you, eager to find where exactly you had been transfered to. He wasn't going to let you go that easily.

Nila Brown (Nova)

- You left Nova because of her family.

-Your relationship with Nova was perfect, she was sincere, loving, caring and protective of you.

-But her family never took your relationship seriously, often calling you her "little friend" and her "Rebellious phase." That was when you two were teenagers. But she was a thirty year old woman now and they kept calling you that.

-You two had a little apartment near her base, you worked in a flower shop while she was dealing with cartel, terrorists of any kind and any danger imaginable around the world. It was a very contrasting match but you two were just like jelly and butter.

-Due to her work, to say you were worried about your girlfriend was an understatement.

-You often spent most Fridays on her brother's house, her little nieces and nephews always loved to see you and spend time with you when her brother and his wife went out. Of course you did it for free, they never fully treated you like family but you'd get there! You were sure of it! Still, it stung that... Almost twelve years had passed and there wasn't even a picture of you on the wall of any of her relative's houses. But you weren't going to give up.

-You couldn't fathom on how many more years you had to spend with your loving girlfriend to call her your wife and be part of the family. Often thinking that perhaps when she proposes to you then her family will start looking at you with different eyes.

-You two had briefly talked about marriage before but it seemed a topic she wasn't comfortable on approaching. You were sure it was because of the "light" homophobic mentality of Nila's parents but wasn't your love worth fighting for?

-Then an idea popped up.

-Maybe you had to show her how truly in love with her you were, how after eleven years formally together you were more than ready and willing to step up and marry her.

-You had your mother's ring your father had given you years after her passing because he was convinced (and very right) that you'd love to propose to Nova with it.

-You knew it had to be now or never. So you spent weeks preparing a wonderful surprise for your girlfriend.

-When she came back from a long mission you had planned a beautiful dinner at your father's restaurant. He had placed a table on the garden you arranged yourself while the rest of the family hid behind some bushes.

-Nova was crying overjoyed by the beautiful date you had surprised her with totally clueless that her family had picked on your intentions of proposing when your father messaged them to come and support your union. They went bananas.

-When you finished dinner you had given Nova a beautiful speech of how lucky you felt for getting to spend so many years by her side and how you wished to make it official before you took your mother's ring and got on one knee in front of her.

-Her beautiful milky cheeks went red, eyes teary with so many emotions she struggled to keep her sobs low. She was nodding eagerly, her trembling hands reaching out your way so you'd slide the ring on her finger.

-Your family cheered you two, your father and aunt going so emotional they couldn't keep their cameras still so they could film the moment perfectly. Your father actually was a little upset that Nova's family was arriving late but he didn't voice it out as he thought they'd be on time for the celebration. Your family was clueless of how cruel and disgusting your girlfriend's family behaved around you two because you didn't have the gal to tell them.

-They found out pretty quickly though. Because as soon as your family approached you two, Nova's mother rushed with this crazed look on her eyes and snatched the ring off of her daughters finger, Nova was horrified, her father soon following after along with her brother picking up a fight with your confused father who tried to calm everyone down even though he was clueless of what the issue was.

-You were stupefied as Nova's family had the balls to put up a fight with anyone on their way because they couldn't stand her daughter saying yes to you. A woman. Her childhood best friend. Her "little secret" and her "personified rebellious stage."

-You cried as your supposed to be mother in law smacked you, scratched you and cursed you out in front of your family and girlfriend while you tried to take back the ring of your mother she had firmly tried to steal from you.

-Nova did absolutely nothing seemingly torn between her family's approval and the wellbeing of her fiance. The sight of you bloodied and in tears as you were attacked by the woman who raised her had broken something inside her, her heart beating so fast she could barely hear your pleas and cries for her to intervene. Nova knew then that any field of battle was far more preferred than the beautiful garden where your proposal had taken place filled with your families fighting for and against your union.

-Your aunt had pushed the old woman off of you and had taken you inside while Nova did nothing but feel guilty as her parents scolded her instead of following behind you. She was in shock, she couldn't react and that'd be a regret she'll carry for the rest of her life.

-As it turns out, your father had kicked Nova's family from the restaurant and promised to file a report to the police if they were to come back or try to touch you in any way.

- Nova's mother had stepped on your mother's ring before your aunt could help you, breaking the beautiful gemstone to pieces... You then decided to spend some time at your father's.

-You didn't hear a word from Nova until two weeks later. She tried to call you many times during those weeks but you didn't pick up until you decided to meet with her at your workplace with your aunt because you were afraid she'd show up with any of her relatives.

-Nova was a wreck, she had bags under her eyes, she looked more tired than usual, more tired than when she came back from any long mission. She teared up when she saw you arranging the cash register. You couldn't even look at her.

-When she begun talking to you, pleading to fix things and begging for your forgiveness you sighed still looking downwards.

-"I've known you for more than a decade. I had loved you unconditionally even when your family verbally attacked and humiliated me and you did nothing to stop them only making excuses after excuses." You were perplexed you could even say this without breaking down. Your girlfriend cried biting down her lip to contain her sobs. "But that night changed everything..."

-You were a husk. A shell of the woman she loves, like what happened had robbed you of your kind, cheerful spirit, like you were dead in life.

-"And I'm afraid... You can't do nothing to repair my broken heart."

-The moment your trembling fingers placed the broken ring of your mother on the counter Nila covered her mouth with her hand horrified at the sight letting out a soft "B-baby..." Falling from her quivering lips. She felt nauseous, like she was about to throw up and you actually had to rush to lay her on the floor because she was loosing balance.

-Your aunt had rushed in when she saw what was happening and your now ex lay passed out on the ground.

-You two drove to the apartment you two used to share, placed her on your bed and called her brother. Your aunt told you to leave, willing to put up with the uncomfortable encounter but you refused.

-To your surprise her brother showed up with a somber look. Almost like his sister's. He sat on the couch when Nova had woken up and tried to drink some water. He couldn't look at you and you couldn't look at none of them.

-"I'm sorry." He said. But you stayed silent.

-"I love you..." Nova blurted as soon as she spot you. You were standing up then, you gave her a short glance, took your aunt's hand and went to your door. "Goodbye Nils. I'll grab my things tomorrow."

[bumblequinn]

Hi! Medium time listener (I followed after slarpg altered my brain chemistry), first timer asker! What is your process when it comes to composing for games? Is it any different when the subject changes (personal, commission, etc)?

hehehe, well i hope that alteration was a positive one! 😋

so i think there's kind of two sides to this: there's the creative process, and the collaborative process.

The Creative Process

my creative process is actually pretty similar whether i'm working on contract or for personal enjoyment.

first, i consider:

the needs of the prompt in front of me (is it a save menu or a boss battle? is it a tense scene is or a tender one?)

how it should fit into the bigger picture of the whole project (mood/tone, genre, leitmotifs, instrumentation, production style, etc)

what tools i will need to use (subtractive synth or sampler or soundfont or live recording?)

then, i typically write what i call a "skeleton:" just the barest bones of a piece of music. i almost always do this on piano, dividing the bass, harmony, and melody into very distinct registers. i do it this way for several reasons learned the hard way:

first, by dividing parts into clearly delineated registers, i'm saving myself a whole lot of trouble down the line. i have long had a bad habit of over-crowded arrangements, which besides being weaker from a composition standpoint, are also notoriously difficult to mix. and mixing is already hard enough as it is! so writing a strong and well balanced composition from the outset is the best way to go.

second: when you jump into arranging or mixing before the whole piece is written, it's much easier to get stuck. where should i take this track next? i dunno, guess i'll fiddle with the mix. suddenly a week's gone by and i'm still working on a half-written track. if i require myself to write the whole piece out first, then this bottleneck is almost always eliminated.

sometimes you can get really excited about an idea, get carried away with arranging and producing a whole track, get to feeling really attached to it—only for your collaborator to say it's just not the right direction. by limiting myself to one instrument, i don't put in a disproportionate amount of work before confirming whether or not the piece is actually a good fit. and bonus, if it's not a good fit then i have a piece of music written that can serve another project later (or another part of the current project, if i'm lucky)!

of course, i'm not always perfect about this. even very recently, i got really stoked about a track i was cooking up for susan taxpayer and went BANANAS with it—only for punkitt to say she loved it but it wasn't at all the right vibe. a hard but necessary reminder of why i try not to get carried away prematurely!

(don't worry, the one i made to replace it fit like a glove, and the first attempt is gonna be used elsewhere. love wins 😌)

once i do have confirmation that i'm headed in the right direction with an idea though, that's where i really get into it with choosing instruments, designing synths, figuring out the production style, etc. and there's where the real back-and-forth with my collaborator begins, to make sure things are staying on track every step of the way. that leads us to:

The Collaborative Process

for starters, and probably most obviously, different people are different to work with. everyone has different strengths and challenges both creatively and interpersonally, so i try to meet my collaborator where they're at and tune in to their specific needs, vision, and communication style. within reason, i try not to look at these things as being "better" or "worse" with one person versus another, just different!

i think the biggest differences for me as far as how much time and energy i invest into a project are A) whether it's paid or pro bono, and B) my own level of personal excitement about the project.

if i'm doing something purely for fun, it's pretty exclusively because i'm really hyped about the project. because, well, it wouldn't be fun if i weren't, right? and in that situation, i enjoy giving it my all! susan taxpayer falls firmly into this category, and i'm having a blast with it.

SLARPG started out pretty similarly, but as the scope of the project grew, it evolved into more of a pro bono arrangement; bobby and i drafted up a contract and negotiated on how we would split earnings from the game once it released, and that's where i've gotten the vast majority of my income this year. it remained a passion project til the end, but i could not in good conscience put that much of my life into a project of that size unpaid, no matter how much i loved it! (maybe one day, if we collectively defeat capitalism and i no longer have to worry about such things... 🥲)

things get a bit different when you get into strictly contract work, though. when it's something i'm doing for a client who's paying from the start and it's not for my own enrichment, i have more hard and fast boundaries on how much of myself i put into the project. i have specific rates, and offer only so many free revisions before charging additional fees. sure, i can be horribly particular and will revise something a bazillion times to get it "just right" if i'm working on a passion project, but i'm not about to do that for like. a corporate commercial or whatever lol

whether it's for fun or all business, though, i always try to make something i'm proud of. because i want whomever i collaborate with to have something they're happy with in the end, of course! plus i'm kind of allergic to phoning it in, i'm too extra for that 😜

________________

i'm sure i could go on, but i think i'll leave it at that! pardon the slow response, it took me some time to formulate my thoughts for this one. thanks for the question, and take care ^^ 🎵

[starlightkun]

dr_magic2303 ❧ teaser [renjun]

❧ teaser word count: 960 | full fic: 18.3k ❧ warnings: just cursing for the teaser ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but spoilers renjun and reader r both crazy (academically) and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix each other. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too <33

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[feeisamarshmallow]

I've seen a lot of talk since Liam died about the comfort of multiple dimensions. About how Stephen Hawking, in the wake of Zayn leaving the band, talked about how there may well be a dimension in which Zayn stayed and was happy. About how, then, there may well be dimensions where Liam is still alive, where the trajectory of the band went a different way, where the boys were better taken care of.

Strangely, or maybe not, in this time I've turned to my own fic, which explored the idea of multiple dimensions for One Direction. It seems a bit weird to find solace in a fic that is very much about a fictional representation of Liam Payne, while the very real Liam Payne has died and that has had very real impacts on the people who loved him. But on the other hand, my relationship to One Direction has always been that of a fan, mediated and understood through fan creation. So maybe it makes sense that I'm processing his death through my own art as well.

The penultimate scene in my fic, Don't Forget Where You Belong, features of meeting of the two dimensions explored in the story--one where One Direction exists and another where it doesn't. I chose to write that section from Liam's perspective, so when their other-dimension selves appear to them during their last concert, it's Liam who we see have an interaction with his other-self, with the self who was from the world where One Direction existed, and who presumably has been sent to the world where it didn't in the mix-up. (Like how Liam found himself dropped into a new dimension where On Direction existed, plucked from the one where it didn't).

When I wrote that scene in 2022, I didn't know that Liam would die two years later. And yet it seems so fitting that I got to write him making peace with his decisions and with the paths life took him down, through the vessel of this fic. It's something I've really been holding onto lately <3

The audience has taken out their cellphones, dotting the arena with pinpricks of light. They look like stars, swaying slowly against a black sky. None of the audience knows the lyrics, and so they're much quieter than usual. As Liam starts singing the second verse, the atmosphere grows even quieter. Too quiet for it to be real. His voice takes on an ethereal quality, like he's singing in a tunnel or a stairwell. The stars are growing bigger now, raising themselves up until they're sprinkled all across the sky. He cranes his head up to take it all in. Maybe it should feel scary, but instead Liam feels at peace. He's still singing, and as he gets to the chorus, he can hear his bandmates join in with him. When he looks back beside him, his bandmates are there, but something seems different about them. He turns to the other side, and realizes with a start he's looking into his own eyes. His doppleganger is standing beside him. And suddenly, Liam knows that he's seeing some sort of hologram of the real Liam. The one who belongs in this dimension. And he's sure that each of his band members are having a similar experience. He wishes he could talk to the other Liam, but he has to keep singing their song. Above them, the stars keep circling and twinkling. As they approach the final choruses, the other Liam makes eye contact with him and smiles kindly. It's not nearly as creepy as it should be. Then, the other Liam joins in with singing. This is not the end, they sing in unison. Thank you, Liam hears his own voice reverberate through his brain, although he knows it's not him who's saying it. Welcome home, Liam replies without speaking. The other Liam reaches out to embrace him as they sing the final line of the song. As his fingertips touch Liam's shoulders, he breaks apart into a million bits of light. Slowly, the sound returns. A roar of applause and cheering. When Liam looks out off the stage again, it's returned to normal. He can make out the faces of some of the nearby fans again . He stands there, looking out into the audience, trying to commit it to memory. This thing he'll never do again. Louis comes over to him then, puts his hand around his shoulder and guides him to the rest of the group. They all embrace in a tight group hug. Liam can feel Harry's hand around the small of his back and Niall's around his neck, with Zayn's head resting on his shoulder. It's not the end. But it is, all the same.

[jamiesfootball]

🌹🌹!!!!

What if my brain continued spinning the wheels about the mess I left in that other prompt fic, and instead of letting me work on anything else I had to write more Sam-hugs? What then?

And then what if I just. released them piecemeal.

Part one here

Other small scene here

What if there was now a chapter count-?

Sam had a smile that could light up the room on the best of days, but the way he beamed when he opened the door could brighten up the whole of Britain through a long winter. Jamie’s heart flopped uselessly in his chest, unable to muster up the same back. “‘Ey, twenty-four. Not too late for you, am I?” “Not at all,” Sam reassured, and then he was stepping forward to wrap Jamie in another hug. Two Obisanya hugs in a day. Not that Jamie minded. Most of the time it was Jamie cadging for scraps, but he supposed even Sam had moments where he needed help minding the gaps where the ugly stuff bled through. A nasty voice in the back of his head reminded him that he hadn’t earned it, hadn’t even scored any goals during their last match on account of the- But he didn’t want to think about that with Sam tucked up against his chest. That could wait 'til he got home. For now, all he had to do was help Sam. When Sam pulled away, having had his fill, he clapped Jamie’s on the shoulder. Jamie bit down the yelp on his tongue. “Although you should have called,” Sam admonished, wagging his finger with an air of disappointment that was transparently fake. “Seriously. I was worried. Any longer and I would have had to call Roy.”

Jamie snorted. “Ain’t you feeling cheeky? Nah, man, traffic was a nightmare,” he lied. “Brought this for us though?”

At the offered chardonnay, Sam cooed. It was his favorite brand too - something he described as buttery, which Jamie figured meant dry and cloying. He'd made himself late by having to swing by the shops, but he was working apology on top of apology here. Besides, it was worth it to have Sam waving him inside, quickly, we have just enough time to let it chill before dinner.

Jamie stepped inside, quickly. The whole house smelled amazing. Sam had something cooking on the stove, and the aroma of it set his mouth watering. All the lights were dimmed, but the space felt bright. He had pictures everywhere, and big paintings on the wall that were probably from all those local art shows he attended, and every piece of furniture had it's own blanket thrown over it like surviving the winter was going to be a team effort. This, despite Sam keeping the place a little warmer than most people liked it in London. Nice and toasty -- Jamie didn't think twice of sliding off his coat. He slung it on the hook by the door, right next to Sam's new bomber jacket.

Then he went to slide off his shoes and his knees buckled out from under him. A shocked noise escaped as he caught himself against the side table.

"Did you say something?" asked Sam, leaning out of the kitchen with a corkscrew wielded in one hand and the bottle in the other.

"Slipped," Jamie answered.

Sam disappeared back into the kitchen. Jamie shook his head at himself.

He wasn't dehydrated. Sure, his stomach was growling all of the sudden, but it wasn't like he'd skipped his smoothie that morning. Could barely exercise until he was cleared by the physios, could he, and the handful of injuries-

Well. None of them were on his knees, were they?

Fucking weird.

The weirdness didn't end there. Soon as he sat down at the table - Sam, feeling himself an extra cheeky lad that evening, pulled his chair out for him - it slapped Jamie in the face.

He was tired.

Scratch that, he was exhausted.

Surrounded by soothing kitchen music, the smell of baked bread ("We won't tell, Coach."), and half a glass of chilled wine ("We will tell, Coach."), every scrap of tension holding him upright had suddenly vanished. All he wanted to do was lie down under the table and take a nap.

His breath hitched.

Mortified, he glanced over his shoulder, certain that Sam had heard it. A wave of dizziness crashed into him as he realised he hoped Sam had heard it. Because Sam would have something nice to say about it, wouldn't he? Sam with his endless patience for Jamie's unending string of messes and his endless tolerance until Jamie had done whatever he had done. That Sam would take one look at Jamie -- and look at the mess he'd made; no way his face was hiding anything right now -- and his head would tilt and his face would soften into something that looked like pity and he would tell Jamie something nice because Jamie needed it. He needed it more than water and protein shakes and bread and cold wine and the painkillers that wore off hours ago except he couldn't have them in the house any more.

Sam had something nice to say about everything under the sun.

More than anything right now, Jamie could use a little sun.

Instead, Sam ladled a bowl of something that smelled- fuck, delicious, and said with low hint of regret in his voice, "I think we should discuss what happened at the match."