#and then her saying sometimes things do get better and then she plays TEENAGE DREAM

[sapphosclown]

no it’s ok that i’m not going to olivia rodrigo guts tour no it’s literally fine idec

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Runaway I (Platonic)

So, what would it happen if Y/N after a lot of time at the hotel, decides to run off and explore the human world? Just like it happened in Helluva Boss I think. This is lighter than the others, but I really wanted to write this one. This could be interpreted as some AU of the Au or even set in the same series after a lot of time has passed.

I know the Grimoire doesn't really look like that and is in the ownership of someone else, but I was thinking that since Lucifer is the King of Hell, he should have at least a copy.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: Controlling behavior, possessive behavior, Alastor being a very controlling dad.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog, @kiraisastay

Things have gotten much better for you since you first arrived. It had finally gotten inside your thick skull that this experience was for real. As crazed as Charlie's dream seemed to be, you couldn't help but believe in her and her goals, given her optimism and enthusiasm. You could say this place was safer than anywhere else you had been crashing for the last ninety years.

But the safety of a place didn't always come hand in hand with feeling safe. And there was only one person to blame for that: Alastor.

If he had been overprotective as a human, as a demon he was much worse. He didn't give a fuck about subtlety anymore. He knew the kind of people that were out there; in fact, he was one of them! Time had proved over and over again you wouldn't make it out there without his protection! He just wanted what was best for you and he also casually happened to know what it was! He was that smart, hahahaha!

As a minor, there was little you could do in Hell, you couldn't drink, you couldn't smoke, you couldn't have sex. So that just nuked three of the most popular hobbies there. Not that you cared much, but it just really left you with a feeling that you didn't belong among the guests and staff friend group due to your youth. The emotional age gap was quite something. And there were times where you felt like the tag-along-kid more than a part of the team.

It was really embarrassing to pull yourself up to one of Husk's stools, ask for the strongest he had, and get served some pineapple juice. He may get a few laughs out of your antics, but you just wanted to fit in.

Sometimes you played with Nifty, since she seemed to be the closest to you in age. Unfortunately, Nifty didn't seem to know any game that didn't involve cleaning or roach mutilation. (how was she even able to find a murderous point of view to Parchis???)

Charlie and Vaggie were too busy managing the hotel and attracting new customers, but you got a feeling they still wouldn't manage to fill that void you seemed to have.

Angel was like the big brother you wished you had had back when you were alive. He loved to gossip with you and Cherri; even when you didn't understand half of what they were saying, it felt nice having some kind of normal teenage stuff around. He also liked to nudge you towards some potential boyfriends, saying that you were in 'in the age' *wink* *wink*. Your dad did not appreciate that.

Alastor wouldn't consider himself a boyfriend blocking dad, Heaven's, no! Just a humble boyfriend murdering dad. So whatever idea of dating or just hanging out with other people your age was out of the question. As soon as you started talking to someone that was in the same age range as you, his shadowy form started to appear behind you and his eyes changed into dials, that was enough for anyone to start running in the opposite direction (he had scared away so many pontential guests it was unreal)

You couldn't even own a phone. Your dad insisted that 'his hotel, his rules'. Any technology that surpassed the 50s was out of the question. (they still didn't have a working phone). If he caught you with one in your hands, specially a VOXTECH phone, even if it was not yours, the battery suddenly started to heat to unbearable levels and you just had to drop it before it exploded in green flames.

Where was the fun loving dad you grew up with? The one that at least had the decency to be a bit more discreet? 'Dead at the prospect of raising a teenage girl!' He liked to say with a laugh.

You talked to Rosie about it, hoping she would talk some sense into him, and he had the nerve to act all innocent and oblivious! Like you were the one being unreasonable!

Somehow, this safe haven had started to become like a prison. You found yourself feeling suffocated and alienated from the others. When you were out there on your own you had lived in fear and trauma, which you hated with all what remained of your heart; but now that you were in a relatively safe place, you felt isolated and trapped. There was no common ground. You needed to breath, to live (or unlive), to enjoy life! You were not a little girl anymore! (҉Y҉e҉s҉ ҉y҉o҉u҉ ҉w҉e҉r҉e҉!҉)҉

So, one day, while helping Nifty clean and hiding from the Radio Demon That Sees It All, you casually stumbled into something very interesting at Lucifer's workshop. It looked like an ancient book, unlike those at the library which you had read and reread over and over again (One could read one too many times Mr. Waddles Goes to Church before it started to get old).

Something in that book drew you towards it, you knew you shouldn't look. It was probably full of ancient demonic knowledge, but maybe a teensy weensy peek wouldn't hurt, right?

Your face lighted up when you opened the book, (and not only because the light was coming from it). There were no words to describe what you found inside. You could see everything inside of it, it was like it was filled with everyone's dreams and hopes, you wondered how something as beautiful as that had ended up in Hell.

Without thinking, you touched the pages which felt warm to the touch. In response to your delicate caress, the pages started shining even brighter. You were so mesmerized by it that you didn't notice how the room was starting to fill with small orbs of light that started moving around you at impossible speeds, like a tornado.

Crafting materials, toy ducks and gizmos were sent around the room due to the force of the movement. But you didn't pay them any attention. There was something truly magical about the orbs' dance. It was enrapturing.

The door shot wide open, revealing Lucifer, Charlie and Vaggie with an horrified look in their faces. They were shouting something at you, but you could barely hear them, too lost in the orbs and their hypnotic dance. So distracted that you didn't feel the chilling presence that joined them until he spoke.

"Y/N, my dear? ." You felt a shiver run down your spine and your heart filled with the fear of a child who knows they have been caught doing something they shouldn't. You could perfectly hear his radio filtered voice, clear as a day, quiet as the calm before the storm. "Step away from that book, cherie. You could get hurt, and we don't want that, do we? ." He spoke with the kind of condescending tone one would use with a little kid.

A new sudden emotion emerged within you, something you had never felt before and never had any need for it. Anger. Who was he to stop you? Why did he always treat you like you were one of his puppets? Like you were another toy he could dress up and command as he pleased? Why couldn't he let you live?.

Feeling braver, probably due to the book's influence, you looked at his red eyes defiantly, once again touching the pages. Despite his permanent smile, you could tell he was getting angrier by the second.

"Y҉/҉N҉" His body was morphing, growing, eyes already changing to those red radio dials that gave you the chills. "I҉ ҉F҉O҉R҉B҉I҉D҉ ҉Y҉O҉U҉-҉"

"No!" You found yourself surprised at your own voice."I lost my life for you, I got sent here because I tried to protect you, I wasted my life because of you!" That last part came a bit more demonic sounding than intended. "Now. I WANT TO LIVE."

And with that, you were enveloped in a bright light and dissapeared.

For a couple of seconds, nobody dared to make a move. After what felt like hours, reality seemed to kick in and everyone sprung into action; Lucifer desperately searching through the pages of a suddenly very uncooperative book, just in case you had been sucked in, Vaggie was already establishing a perimeter around the hotel and search parties, and Charlie, poor sweet Charlie was franctically looking through every single room on that floor.

The only one who hadn't moved yet was Alastor. Already shrunk back to normal size, he seemed completely relaxed and chill in what could be considered an extremely catastrophic situation to any parent.

"Ah, must be those teenage hormones kicking in." His voice sounded as cheery and joyful as always. Almost like he didn't care. Lucifer shot him a venomous look, silently urging him to show a little care for his MISSING DAUGHTER. But Alastor had already retreated back into the shadows and returned to his radio tower.

If only they knew.

The truth was that Alastor cared. Way too much. He sunk his claws into the table while he fought against the deeply buried instinct in him to let himself loose and destroy everything in his path. The chains in his neck, glowed menacingly, a bitter reminder that he wasn't at full power.

He had lost you. Again.

He had you there, close enough to reach and you had vanished before he was able to do something. You had run away.

The mere thought made his hands shake with anger, antlers already growing twice their normal size. How could you? After everything he did for your sake, for your safety, y҉o҉u҉ ҉d҉i҉s҉o҉b҉e҉y҉ ҉h҉i҉m҉??? His smile looked more like a grimace and his eyes were pools of red hot rage. Oh, you were so grounded when he got you back.

Now you were out there, who knows where. All on your own. Defenseless, at the mercy of his many enemies without anyone, HIM, to protect you.

He sent his shadows into the city, he would leave no stone unturned no crackden untouched until he found you. He didn't care who he had to kill, maul or destroy. You would be coming back with him. Only HE could keep you safe, whetever you wanted it or not.

His desperation only grew when his shadows came back empty handed, the crazed look in his eyes combined with the slasher smile only made him look like the deranged psychopath he actually was.

You weren't in the Pride ring. He was even starting to doubt you were in Hell at all. What was the last thing you had said?

His non beating heart gave a painful twist when your parting words echoed in his mind. The bitterness and resentment in your voice hurt his tainted soul in ways no other person could have. His claws dug even deeper in the wood.

No.

All he wanted was to keep you safe back at the hotel, to ensure no one in this hellish landscape ever laid a finger in your delicate skin. He was just being a good father. You may not understand it, and probably never would. That's irrelevant.

He had found you again after nearly ninety years since that fatidic night when he lost it all, he was not going to allow anybody to take you away from him.

A theory started forming in his twisted mind. You had said that you wanted to live. Alastor was no fool, he knew what the Grimoire could do, in fact he had been dying to take a peek himself. Whatever you had wished, would have probably come true. His grin turned sour.

You had gone where he couldn't follow.

The mortal plane.

Who knew the kind of horrors you were facing up there? The kind of fools that would dare to disrespect the child of one of Hell's most powerful overlords?

He couldn't go there, at least not physically. If he could synchronize his radio frequency with the ones on Earth, he may be able to locate you before some fuckwad up there decided to have their way with you.

"We're on air"

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 3

CW: angst, reader is a loner, reader works her ass off every day at the lab, fluff, neteyam being cute towards reader (even tho it still has weird vibes lol), mad jealous neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for depression symptoms (such as being moody n having less appetite than the usual), stalking, obsessive and toxic behavior, also TRIGGER WARNING for reader mentioning the word “suicidal” in an internal monologue (she IS NOT actually suicidal, she just feels really sad and mentions the word. if u read it, you'll know what I mean)

Not proofread. I'll do it as soon as I can ♡ I hope it's a good chapter 🥲 & thank u to everyone who's reading this fanfic, who left a comment in the last chapter and, of course, to everyone who asked to be in the taglist I LOVE Y'ALL 😘💕💕💕

Chapter 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mother looking at me

Tell me, what do you see?

Yes, I've lost my mind

(...)

Will I ever be free?

Have I crossed the line?

All the things she said, running through my head

All the things she said (t.A.T.u)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You woke up feeling like crap that morning.

Your last shift had been so demanding. You had to cook just so much food that you started to wonder if there was anything left in the pantry. You had gone into that room just so many times yesterday to get ingredients and kitchen utensils, your legs felt heavy and sore now, as you stretched them in your small bed.

There were just too many people to eat in that damn laboratory.

Meanwhile you, the cook, barely had any time left to eat. There was always just so much work to do. So many dishes to wash, so many vegetables and meat to cut, bread to prepare from scratch... Your head hurt just thinking about it.

You felt so stressed out that you preferred to unwind a little instead of eating, sometimes. You would find a quiet place, sit somewhere, put your headphones on and press play on one of your many curated playlists or in one of your favorite songs. Listening to music seemed to work like a medicine to your wounds and, going to the cafeteria and having to socialize, to have people all around you felt too much, so, you just tried to avoid it. You even started to lose a little weight because of it. Nothing too much, though. You were only slightly thinner than you used to be. But in the back of your head, there was always a voice saying "Please, take better care of yourself...". Despite knowing that voice was right, you were too tired and apathetic to care.

Ever since you started to Dreamwalk, it was like your whole world had changed. That old life you led did not seem to be enough anymore. It never was, in the first place. It could never compare to the heightened senses you had when you were in your Avatar, helping you smell and hear everything better.

The first time you spent a whole afternoon running alone through the Pandoran forest next to Hell's Gate, you felt alive like you had not felt in years.

But nothing gold can ever stay. Way sooner than you expected, you had to be awakened from that magical dream. Everytime you came out of the technological machine you had to lay inside of to be able to drive your Avatar, you thought "Damn! Why wasn't I born a na'vi? They're so freaking lucky to have such an incredibly beautiful Planet to call their own. If only Earth was still as beautiful as it used to be..."

When you were not in one of your free days, you would always work until you felt exhausted and fed up with everything. It was not a walk in the park to be a cook. Even though you loved cooking since you were a teenager, when you used to always mix different ingredients and spices and create new recipes, this profession forced you to spend most of your time standing up and to have little time to sit and rest your poor fatigued legs. In some days, all you wanted was to sleep for 12 hours straight. And God knows you were capable of actually doing that.

Not a long time ago, you slept so much that, when you eventually woke up, it was 2 pm and you almost got fired from the lab when you finally showed up at the kitchen you were supposed to be in since 6 am.

You promised yourself you would never do that again. You just could not afford to lose that job. And you wanted to cry just thinking about not being able to Dreamwalk anymore. Exploring Pandora was the peak of your life, currently. It was when you felt high as a kite. As funny as it sounded, it was true. You felt euphoria run through your body everytime you got to have blue skin and be over 8 feet tall.

You liked to cook and was good at it, but, you were a smart, intelligent girl who knew much more than people thought you did. Unfortunately, you could not manage to get a higher position at the lab. Your forte was not sciencey stuff. It was subjects like Human History, Languages, Philosophy... At best, you got to use your language learning skills to learn basic na'vi fast and was able to get an Avatar from the lab. At least that was a good thing that your tiring job provided you. God knows that privilege was one of the few things keeping you alive. You goddamn hated you life, your job, everything... All your days seemed to be the same. Same chores, same annoying people... Most scientists did not try to hide that they did not see you as an equal. Even though they were always really polite to you, they would not let you in in their little groups, in their upbeat conversations through the laboratory corridors. You could count in one hand how many of them used to talk to you with genuine interest in hearing what you had to say.

You sat every day next to the less valued lab employees: janitors, cleaning ladies, other cooks just like you and so on. Your race had never been good at realizing the worth that these hardworking people had, anyway. Why would they do it now? You thought it to be so sad...

Those employees were nice regular people. Even thought some of them were idiots and treated you badly, there are people who behave like that anywhere. You were thankful that most of them were polite to you and treated you well enough. You also had a close friendship with one of the female employees, a cute, humble and really kind girl called Crystal. But she was your only actual friend. You did not remember the last time you had made an actual effort to make a friend, to be nice to someone in hopes you could get to know them better and they could become a part of your life. You had to admit you had been really grumpy lately.

You could easily blame such moodiness on your lack of will to keep living that life you currently had. It’s not that you were suicidal, it's just that you wished you could live a better life.

There was also Derek, the tall, cute boy you would make out with every now and then. You did not have a proper name for your relationship with him. He was always lovely towards you and you two would have really interesting conversations together and sneak around to kiss each other and do other types of heated stuff (though you never had sex with him) anytime you both felt like it. But it did not happen that often, anyway. You did not put much thought into it, to be honest. Derek was just a friend you would fool around with. You could not be farther from being in love with him or anything of sorts.

After another tiresome day, you walked fast towards your room. All you could think about was how nice and cozy your bed would feel when you would lay your body on it. Only five minutes after you finally laid down, you fell asleep. Slumber had been bugging you all day. Lately, it had always been like that.

They say you have to be careful what you wish for. That your words and thoughts have power over what happens to you. And you learned it the hard way.

In one of your infamous busy but boring afternoons, something unexpected happened to you.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a na'vi young man appeared outside of your glass window and tapped slightly on it. You almost choked on your own saliva when you saw that huge, blue creature staring at you with wide yellow eyes. A scream got stuck right in the middle of your throat, since you got so startled you could not get your vocal chords to obey the command your brain was sending them. What the hell was that na'vi doing in front of the laboratory? They did not use to come to Hell's Gate. And why was he looking at you through the kitchen window?

The na'vi boy just would not stop staring at you. His gaze was so intense it made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. Suddenly, he pointed to the left. The big, ample door that led to the open area in front of the room you worked in was right at the same direction his four fingered hand was pointing to. You realized he was signaling to you that he wanted to see you outside of the lab.

You started to say, in your own mind: "What kind of weird situation is this?"

"Please?" You heard the alien plead in fluent English (he only had a typical na'vi accent), his voice coming through the narrow gap that existed between the glass and the window frame. His eyes reminded you of the eyes of a small kitten asking for food.

You got surprised by the fact that he was able to speak English. You wondered why he had learned it and who taught him the language.

You tried to reach for the door to try and inform someone that there was a na'vi around and ask if anybody knew who he was when you heard the alien say:

"Don't go, please! I just want to talk to you! I'm not gonna hurt you."

Your back was turned to him. When you turned around, he was smiling.

"It's incredible how you're even prettier up close."

"I'm sorry?!" You answered

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Neteyam. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. It's really nice to meet you." He was still smiling.

That name was familiar, Neteyam te Suli... Oh, of course! Neteyam was the son of the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, Jake Sully. He was very famous between the na'vi and the humans.

Neteyam Suli was one of the most feared na'vi warriors out there. A great archer and very skilled with the knives the Omatikayas made themselves, he fought fearlessly against the recoms, including Colonel Miles Quaritch, an old enemy of his father. Quaritch used to lead the RDA soldiers when he was human, before being "revived" and given an Avatar body. He died in battle against the na'vi. But that did not mean that there was finally peace between humans and the na'vi race.

But why in hell was Neteyam Suli trying to talk to you? It is not like the na'vi liked the humans. On the contrary, they despised your race.

"Uhmm... okay. Nice to meet you..." You tried to be polite and peaceful towards the na'vi boy, like you were advised to be by your teachers, back when you were studying and training to get your Avatar "But I'm sorry, what did you say? That I'm prettier up close?" Your brows were furrowing, your face full of confusion. Despite all, you were calmer now that you knew you could communicate with him in English. Your na'vi was not the best out there.

"Yes." Neteyam's big amber eyes shone when he looked at your face. You were beyond dazed. "I've seen you before. Many times actually. But only from far away. It doesn't compare to seeing you right next to me." His voice had a weird warm feeling in it, like he was already acquainted to you. But how could it be? You did not even know who he was before he revealed his identity to you.

"When did you see me...?" Your mouth was slightly opened, so bewildered you felt

"Don't you wanna come outside so we can talk better?" He said, seeming excited.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm good, thanks." Neteyam looked sad after you declined his offer.

"Why not? I told you, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He smiled faintly. You could tell he was hurt by your blunt answer.

It pained you to act like that towards him. You admired the na'vi so much. Damn, you even would choose to be born a na'vi if you somehow could go back in time, before you were inside your mother's womb and you could talk to Eywa herself. But how were you gonna trust him? There were some na'vi out there, his mother, for example, that hated humans with such a boiling passion. What if he took after his mother? You would be in trouble if he tried to kill you. Even though the na'vi were a peaceful by nature race, everyone has a limit, so, you had to be careful when interacting with them. You learned about all the genocide your kind had committed against his kind while simultaneously destroying his Planet slowly, in a cruel, despicable way. You honestly understood the contempt the na'vi felt when it came to humans.

You looked at Neteyam with honesty in your eyes and said:

"Please don't take this the wrong way but I can't really trust you. I know you told me you're not gonna hurt me, but, I'm still human. How can I know you trust me, to begin with?"

"I trust you because you're different. You're nothing like the others from your kind. You're more like my people. And I love that about you." Neteyam said, smiling at you.

"Can you please just tell me how do you know me? Because I've never seen you before. I've only heard about you because you're the Olo'eyktan's eldest son and Olo'eyktan to be. But you talk to me like you somehow... know me. I'm really confused, Neteyam." He felt his heart race when he heard you pronounce his name. Your voice sounded so sweet to his sensitive na'vi ears, making him move them somewhat to the sides. It was the same voice he heard in the forest, when he watched you talk to yourself saying how beautiful you thought some yellow, bioluminescent flower that you saw in the grass was.

"You're a Dreamwalker. I've seen you around. I love how much you seem to appreciate and respect my Planet instead of destroying it like the others from your kind do. That's why I think you're more na'vi than human." He chuckled happily and you got confused by his last sentence.

You had to admit he looked cute when his fangs escaped from under his upper lip whenever he smiled or chuckled. But you felt so weird thinking that.

"I'm more na'vi than human?" You were intrigued "What do you mean?" You laughed a bit and he continued on staring at you in an intense manner.

Neteyam heard footsteps approaching, so, he started to move just so he could hide. He did not want any other human but you seeing him. He knew he could not trust them as he could trust you.

"Wait! Where are you -" before you could finish your words, he was already gone.

The brown wooden door behind you opened and Derek appeared carrying a pile of plates in his arms.

"Hey, cutie." He walked towards the sink, leaving the dirty dishes there to be washed by himself when he would be back in the kitchen.

"Hi, Derek." You smiled faintly. You were still recovering from that odd interaction you had with Neteyam Sully.

Derek came close to your ear and whispered:

"Feel like meeting me tonight? I miss you." You sighed

"I don't know... I'm not really in the mood, sorry." You answered, uninterested

He got a little surprised by your answer and moved his eyebrows up, making wrinkles appear in his forehead but quickly remembered he had much work to do outside, so, he walked towards the door and got out of the room without saying another word to you.

Neteyam was still out there, next to the window, leaning against the wall. He was listening to the conversation the whole time. He had to use all the self control he learned to have with the years to not hiss when he heard that human call you "cutie" and ask if you wanted to meet him tonight. Who was he, anyway? And why was he saying he missed you? Neteyam had never seen you show any sign that he was your mate before. He had to find out what was going on. Neteyam would not let anyone get between the both of you. It would not be a weak human male that would be the obstacle that would make him give up on his future mate. He was used to challenges and was not afraid of another one. That would probably even be fun. Neteyam could imagine that tiny mate of yours shivering in fear when he showed him his big, sharp fangs.

Neteyam decided he was gonna find out who the hell that mate of yours was. He was sure he was not better than him. That human male would never be as strong as he was. That human would never be able to hunt fresh food for you, walking through the forests of Pandora and confronting big, dangerous animals, like Neteyam would. He knew he outbraved that human. He could never be a good mate to you like Neteyam could be. You deserved better than him.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @xxunnie @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri

I tagged some of you that did not ask to be tagged but left really cute comments on the last chapter that made my heart feel warm 💓 if u don't wanna be tagged, just lemme know

Also, if someone wants to be added to the taglist too just leave a comment below saying that 🤍

[xo-zozo]

can you pls make crack tig hcs like make them really random and weird, those are always some of my favs. tysm

yes ofc!! i think that i’ve done some of these before so you can check my master list for the first part (CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW IM PUMPING THESE OUT LIKE)

| tags: @urbanflorals @reminiscentreader @nqds @annamatix @x-liv25-jamieswife @sophiesonlinediary @lyrakanefanatic @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1 @fortunatelyjollybeliever @123letsgobestie @off-to-the-r4ces /

jameson and xander played a big part in the music choice at libby and nash's wedding reception

lets just say that "country girl (shake it for me" by luke bryan was played and it was CHAOTIC

max listens to asmr to fall asleep and the xander found out so now she gets teased about it by the whole family

jameson had a phase as a teenager where he was addicted to energy drinks

jameson and grayson always manage to start a fight about chess and all of the games that they play together (chess yk) and it usually ends with them wrestling on the floor

jameson is obsessed with kraft mac and cheese and it caused avery to also become obsessed with it

they all like to go to amusement parks together (but they always have to have really heavy security which is annoying but yk)

avery and libby made their boyfreinds watch all of the classic shows when they found out that they hadn't seen them yet (friends, gilmore girls, gossip girl, etc)

only nash and jameson though becuase grayson refuses and xander has already seen them obv

they both have VERY strong opinions on the shows that they watch

jameson always tried new sports and stuff when he was a kid so now he's just really good at all of these random things

at their sleepovers avery and max do those random youtube videos that are like, "guess the song by the emoji" and max is a lot better at it for some reason

xander's dream is to go to a sza concert (he gives those vibes if you know what i mean)

grayson pretends not to like max but secretly he thinks that she's funny (even if he'll never admit it )

grayson was the one who first made jameson try alcohol as a dare (IT'S HIS FAULT HE WAS AN ALCOHOLIC)

tiramisu has a lot of energy so she likes running around with xander and jameson in the back yard because we both know that they have the most energy

sometimes jameson will randomly comment on tiktoks about himself and then start a chain of people freaking out

for the short time that nash was an only child he was always scared of walking around the house by himself because he either thought he was gonna get lost or that something was gonna pop out of the shadows

avery makes jameson download grammerly of smth on his phone because she gets tired of all of his spelling mistakes

which he probably just does on purpose at this point to annoy her

[toomanyopinionss]

I want to talk about

Surviving Summer

(nonspoiler/spoiler)

hey y’all, it’s been a minute since i’ve done one of these. let’s get into it…😏

So i genuinely like this show. Just finished watching the second season, in fact.

I feel like it’s the good amount of cheesy and adorable and mind numbing without being too formulaic and basic like some of these Netflix originals tend to be. Now it can be annoying and cringy sometimes, don’t get me wrong. But it’s got some pretty good actors and actresses with enough heartfelt moments and playful scenes to make one feel content. She’s not a top ten, but she never tries to be, you know??

As for the show itself? Surviving Summer is the perfect name for it, because Summer the character? a HOT mess. I cannot stress this enough, the frontal lobes on that one are not fully formed. It’s especially apparent in season 1. Even so, i love her 🥰. I cant help it ok? She has the confidence that i dreamed of having in high school, and now tbh.

I won’t go to deep into every character, but let me just say this: they will ALL annoy you at some point. It’s so obvious that they’re teenagers, cuz they childish. But they all care about each other most of the time, and surfing. It’s a great summer watch! go for it, don’t be shy

7.5/10. Surface level fun with shenanigans galore and annoying teenagers.

SPOILERS

Y’all the second season was gooood. I liked it better than the first tbh. Summer, like i said before was much more serious and focused, but it didn’t change her personality at all, which i loved.

I liked how they got more into Bodhi’s conflicts with surfing and the racism in the industry on her end. If anything, i wish they had time to do even more with it. Because everything else they did with her character this season was just bleh. A half hearted conflict between poppy blown WAY out of proportion and a half assed queer relationship that was cute but barely touched on because hottake Netflix hates their wlws and their black main characters 🤭(oop who said that)

Poppy and marlon were cuteeeee. sidenote, who else forgot that bodhi and marlon had a thing, cuz i sho did 👀. they have such good chemistry and it just warmed my heart. SPEAKING of good chemistry…

✨“summer have you seen yourself?”

summer and baxter are the only mf choice, im SORRY.

immediately side eyeing anyone who says that summer and ari should be together, because i’m not sure you and i watch the same show. another steaming take, but I never bought into summer and ari. they are too sibling for me. i was taken ABACK when they kissed in season one. I genuinely did not see it coming. they play off each other nicely, but in a romantic way? NOPE, i don’t buy it.

but from the first scene with baxter and summer, i knew. it was intense. the casual touches, the instant bind they formed, the way bax looks at her 🤭…

you cannot compete where you don’t compare, Ari is not the one 🤷🏾‍♀️

anyone else? hmmm…

oh, y’all join me in a big FVCK you to Elo and Wren. they both suck actual ass and i hate them both.

it’s the way that they treat everyone like shit equally. even their own brother? like what the fvck is wrong with them?

like especially wren. being jealous and overly competitive is one thing. but they way she handled the bodhi situation, plus the way she outed her old teammate? literally bordering on racist and homophobic like wtffff. maybe a lil psychotic too, cuz why is she literally a threat to summer’s life? don’t take it out on her cuz your boyfriend is an indecisive disaster. at least they didn’t give wren a redemption, i would have been so pissed off like fvck her.

ok this is getting long. tldr, Season 2 was entertaining and fun. poppy and marlon were cute, summer was awesome, ari does not need a girlfriend, justice for baxter, and wren and elo will not be seeing the pearly gates.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Playlist Character Personality Tag!

Let's go with some of the cast from What Lurks In The Hollow for this one!!!

Rules:  You choose a character that you want to talk about, then from your playlist, or even from the songs you know, you choose a specific song that most relates to your character and explain why you think that this song reminds you of that character by analyzing the song.

WHAT LURKS IN THE HOLLOW

Zach Taylors

"Please Don't Go" - Joel Adams

Nobody ever knows Nobody ever sees I left my soul Back there now I'm too weak Most nights I pray for you to come home Praying to the Lord Praying for my soul

Now please don't go Most nights I hardly sleep when I'm alone Now please don't go, oh no I think of you whenever I'm alone So please don't go

[...]

'Cause I don't ever want to know Don't ever want to see things change 'Cause when I'm living on my own I'll wanna take it back and start again

Dylan Millihan

"Children's Work - Dessa"

I grew up with a book in my bed I got these dark circles before I turned ten Heard my mother with her friends worry it was something she did To get such a serious kid

But I've learned how to paint my face How to earn my keep, how to clean my kill Some nights I still can't sleep The past rolls back, I can see us still

You've learned how to hold your own How to stack your stones But the history's thick Children aren't as simple as we'd like to think

[...] Tried to tell the grown-ups About the storm clouds, the weather in my head Hadn't heard the word for melancholy yet

Amy Millihan

"Seventeen - Heathers The Musical"

Fine! We’re damaged Really damaged But that does not make us wise

We’re not special, we’re not different We don’t choose who lives or dies Let’s be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch TV

We’ll bake brownies or go bowling Don’t you want a life with me?

Can’t we be seventeen? That’s all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you People hurt us

Or they vanish And you’re right, that really blows But we let go Take a deep breath Then go buy some summer clothes We'll go camping

Play some poker And we’ll eat some chili fries Maybe prom night Maybe dancing Don't stop looking in my eyes

Savvanah Hahn

"Complicated - Demi Lovato"

It's time for me to take it I'm the boss right now Not gonna fake it Not when you go down 'Cause this is my game And you better come to play

I used to hold my freak back Now I'm letting go I make my own choice Bitch, I run this show So leave the lights on No, you can't make me behave

Uh, huh, huh So you say I'm complicated That I must be out my mind But you've had me underrated Rated, rated

Uh, huh, huh What's wrong with being What's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident?

Liam Steele

"Cradles - Sub Urban"

I live inside my own world of make-believe Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep

I love everything Fire's spreading all around my room My world's so bright It's hard to breathe but that's alright Hush

Shh

Tape my eyes open to force reality (oh, no no) Why can't you just let me eat my weight in glee I live inside my own world of make-believe Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities Some days I feel skinnier than all the other days Sometimes I can't tell if my body belongs to me

Tasha Strikehart

"brutal - Olivia Rodrigo"

And I'm so sick of 17 Where's my fucking teenage dream? If someone tells me one more time "Enjoy your youth, " I'm gonna cry And I don't stick up for myself I'm anxious and nothing can help And I wish I'd done this before And I wish people liked me more

All I did was try my best This the kind of thanks I get? Unrelentlessly upset (ah, ah, ah) They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear Ego crush is so severe God, it's brutal out here

I feel like no one wants me And I hate the way I'm perceived I only have two real friends And lately, I'm a nervous wreck 'Cause I love people I don't like And I hate every song I write And I'm not cool and I'm not smart And I can't even parallel park

My Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri,

@lyutenw @finickyfelix

@thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives, @differentnighttale @wyked-ao3

@thelovelymachinery @an-indecisive-nerd

@zinabug-writes @dahliaontherun

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[ukuraichu]

i was a teenage exocolonist is so fun so much so infact that i ran to my laptop to post my thoughts because i simply have so much to say and therefore have to type a lot.

ANYWHO. im going to document some things about my current runs. I've played the game twice and have amassed about 18h in the 2 days i've had it (woah.) so the hyperfixation is truly hyperfixationing. anywho x2. RAMBLING TIME. (under the cut)

SO IN MY FIRST RUN, i play as sol (they/them). i LOVE my dad, i love my mum but she's a little tough on me. i know she scolds me because she's worried about me and she just wants me to do well but it still. AHHH. i get frustrated and lash out sometimes. but i still love my mum. my childhood friend is marz, who i think is really cool but also i like to compete with her! she can't be the only coolest person ever. i don't remember what i picked as the augment though. ANYWAY.

i wasn't very close with tammy, but when she passed her presence was heavily felt. especially in the secret funtimes club. she would have loved to make friendship bracelets with us. i was enamoured by the very serious and focused and locked in autistic girl (tangent) who i grew up with. i went to classes mostly as an excuse to spend time with her and so that she would like me and pay attention to me, to think that we were of equal standing. her best friend was marz and i was jealous. i asked anemone to be my best friend and she said yes! but we grew apart over time anyway. I did some exploring, but not a lot of it. not enough to see a lot, but enough to sneak out with Dys. I explored and found a pet Hopeye, affectionately named Fungle (after the among us map LOL). I didn't know Dys very much though. he ran away, or went missing, or maybe blew up the colony when i was growing up. i never saw him again.

there was a famine and my mum died. my dad died soon after because of the shimmer. i never found out why. i just locked into robotics and engineering more and more. i named the little robot Ronaldine.

i don't remember the specifics of everything. the finer details are blurry. i just remember dedicating a lot of time with tang and spending time and time again with her, over, over, over. i didn't save the colony. we fell and died. also i didn't like the helios. but i was an obedient kid for the majority of my life up until my dad died and i started to become less obedient.

i grow old, i think. i made a lot of mistakes, but i still grow up. my partner at the time tang, becomes dejected and apathetic and hyperfocused on what happened to dys. i can't save her and she separates herself.

i start again

i wake up again

run 2!!!!!

this one went better. TLDR i saved tammy, not tonin or mum or dad i didnt know how. i become best friends with dys but also date his sister but also flirt with dys and his alien lover sym who i also flirt with but have to decline his advances because im dating tang and i cant tell her i made out with an alien </3. i also spent A LOT of time in the SFC, and work with marz to campaign to overthrow the government. also marz is one of my best friends in this run. also my nemesis, markedly, because i stole her dream job. but because im so close to sym like wow so close, he takes me to meet his big alien leader and is like. homie. i dont like humans but sym likes you and we could like. collab or something idk. like a peace plan. i accept his peace plan, im thinking so forward. so i bring about peace to the world. my mum and dad would have been so proud. i grow old and tang grows old and we break up but the love we shared was still there.

WAHHHH,...., thinking.

also i did NOT clock that tang was trans in the first run. when she said her body was modified i thought she meant. she literally used to be an actual robot. not genome therapy. my bad. love you tang. also when i become best friends with dys and he said he always knew she was his sister RAHHH it made me RGAHSGGFSDF because WOW. theyre literally SOUL BONDED whether they want to be or not. i want them to reconcile i need to get them to talk. idk how i build rex's bar but i WANT IT RAHHH

[zalrb]

OTH Rewatch Review 3x07

IIIIIII DON'T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYY

Jesus Christ

So, like, here's the thing about this fucking Inception dream sequence. What is happening? Is Nathan dreaming about Haley making out with Brooke after waking up from a nightmare about Lucas and Chris in bed together after Lucas woke up from dreaming about being in bed with Brooke? Because it's a dream within within a dream. I don't know what your subconscious is like Nathan.

Nathan's grin. I mean, technically you've slept with both of them. AND HALEY'S SISTER.

"What is she doing talking to that troll?" "By troll do you mean Peyton?" Oh, Haley. How I love you sometimes.

Because Peyton fucking SUCKS.

"I'm over possessive-best-friends-with-weird-lesbian energy. And Haley!" That was actually a good delivery but if anyone has the lesbian energy here, it's Brooke and Rachel.

"Well, at least somebody wanted me." Oh, preteen Zal was SO frustrated with this ENTIRE storyline.

"HALEY, YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE HERE." lol.

"You look so..." "Overdressed." Good delivery. But also Haley, my girl, the SUN is out, why are you wearing a little black dress?

I mean "little black dress" this is still OTH.

They really felt uncomfortable in the clothes they had to wear??

This is so dumb, she's clearly going out with Nathan and Haley too, Lucas.

YOU ALL HAVE CELL PHONES. CALL HER.

Ugh, Skills.

"I've been on kinky dates before..." with who? I guess s1 Nathan would've done something weird.

Remember how s1 Nathan was like a legit emotionally, verbally abusive villain?

"Let's spring [the senior in the nursing home]! It's just a couple of hours, what harm could it do?" If this was a dark comedy, he'd die.

Chris tipping a random woman on the beach and slapping her ass is just ... ugh. She should've slapped him. Alas, Mark Schwahn.

Haley having a quiet but profound breakdown. Brooke, "It's OK. Let's just go to the mall." And she is being helpful and it is very sweet but that's also hilarious. Uhhh, sorry that your wedding spot is being destroyed, let's just go to the mall instead. You know? Nothing profoundly sad happens at the mall.

"I can't believe she's doing this." IT WAS A GROUP DATE, LUCAS.

"This guy has caused a lot of trouble, Brooke knows that." Lucas, the people that he caused trouble between WERE WITH HER GETTING INTO THE CAR. YOU SAW THEM.

I swear to god Lucas, I would hit you. SHUT UP.

24. Braley are such better friends than Breyton.

25. I REALLY wish we got more Nathan and Brooke scenes because they had a really fun chemistry together and I liked that they were both being courted by Haley and Lucas and they could both understand where the other was coming from

26. Haley's laugh at Chris saying "Maybe he's afraid of me" is hilarious because she stops and continues. But Chris shutting her up with "Maybe he doesn't care anymore" was mean but well-played.

27. It's funny how Chris Keller is a better Damon than Damon. Because he's not a good actor but he doesn't overplay it.

28. Aww, jealous Nathan

29. James Lafferty's shoulders are quite broad this episode.

30. Nathan is vulnerable and you were practically giving the enemy a LAP DANCE. I mean she wasn't Brooke but the exaggeration is very Brooke and also very high school. I remember in high school we were at a school dance and this girl's boyfriend was getting jumped outside while she was dancing with another guy and all of us girls were like WHAT THE FUCK??? [INSERT NAME] IS GETTING JUMPED AND YOU WERE BASICALLY HAVING SEX ON THE DANCE FLOOR! What did we expect her to do? Get jumped with him?? Teenagers.

31. "I didn't do anything!" "Except for kiss Chris and run away with him?" I mean, she's got a point Haley. "What about you messing with Lucas and hiding all those letters you wrote to him under your bed?" I mean, she's got a point Brooke.

32. "I know this is where we made love in the rain." I mean, it wasn't ON the balcony though. It should've been.

33. "I still feel our past just like you do" well especially considering that you were the one who was left.

34. Rachel calling Lucas gay because he's CLEARLY into Brooke and is like please stop getting naked around me because I LOVE BROOKE is hilarious because what?

35. Chris also getting Brooke more and more drunk so they can have sex is incredibly gross.

36. "All of the celebrity..." she had ONE original song and was doing covers and opening for actual celebrities? WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT HERE?

37. We could also talk about the fact that Nathan was the one who encouraged her to sing in front of people etc. etc. and she wouldn't have been a "star" without him in her life at all.

38. Mouth's reveal that Mel is his grandfather is ... OK? I know this is supposed to push Peyton to Ellie but meh.

39. "SHE NOTEBOOKED YOU?" "I totally Notebooked him" lmao these references.

40. Nathan keeping a flower from the beach is Lucas keeping a feather from Brooke's wings.

41. *SIGH* Brooke and Chris. What, it takes like two more episodes for them to be together?

42. I also absolutely do not believe that Brooke wouldn't have kicked Chris out of the house right after sleeping with him. She'd be disgusted.

[soccerpunching]

ermm:33 general opinion on YuuYuu (Yuuka/Yuuichi) plez \(^0^)/,,,

HELLO YUUYUU ARTIST!!!!! <3

Back when i first watched inago (i was maybe 15/16???) I have both a plush and crush on Yuuka and Yuuichi. Idk theyre just so pretty and i love their vibe, I WAS IN AWE

And theyre both so cool to me and they have a lot of similarities... so right off the bat, i'm telling you that i love them sm, i loved them for years, and that i would die for yuuyuu

To take this more seriously, I feel so much for their characters and where they stand in the narrative.

Everybody knows this but i will mention it... they were both made to be the motivation for two similar deuteroganists. They are the motivation, the anchor, and a literary device that reflects the foundation of those main characters. To exist as them automatically means that they are and will always be attached to another character in content importance and would rarely have the screentime alone if at all (yuuka is even abysmal in this respect).

In personality, i think these two are the same way as their purpose in the series.

Yuuka introduces herself as Yuuka in inago. Without the surname. I understand the intent for that scene of course, she was actively avoiding calling herself a Gouenji since her brother's poorly kept secret will be known. But I imagine this is just how she introduces herself even before fifth sector.

She's not doing this because she's timid or anything related to teenage rebellion, Gouenji just have A LOT of weird fans that she would rather not call their attention. There are also some who just wanted to be close to her to get a chance to see Gouenji. She genuinely thinks her brother is cool and supports him and loves him so much but his fans are just... so weird that it's sometimes hard to show her support of him in public. But she sometimes think her brother is living a bigger life purpose than her (she would not help him in inago otherwise and she may also be there to make sure he's taking care of himself).

Anyway, Shuuya is important to Yuuka because in her eyes, he (and Fuku) raised her. I think by the time her middle school graduation came by, she already realized this and asked Shuuya to be there for her instead (tired of hearing that their father is too busy for them) and Shuuya would have been emotional about this for days. That's how I think Yuuka herself put more importance in Shuuya for better or for worse.

In Yuuichi's case, I think he always talks about Kyousuke. Whether you initiated the talk about Kyousuke or not, he will be mentioned. Yuuichi talks a lot about the shared dream he and his brother have and how amazing kyousuke is. Even without his alternate version in CS confirming this, I think Yuuichi believe that Kyousuke plays a greater role in the world than him.

There is something a bit inferior with how both Yuuka and Yuuichi see themselves compared with their brothers but because of the love and support that they get, I think they're dealing with this really well and are going to be fine.

But just with that, i can already say that these two have an incredible potential to have the deepest understanding of each other. They would know each other in a level that no other person could. If there was at least one canon content of them i would have been obsessed with this ship.

Yuuyuu is a crackship that has too many connections to be considered as one

Technically yuuyuu is a crackship because they dont have a single interaction and have not been in the same frame before. But is it really??

Funny thing about yuuyuu is that their roads are meant to cross even if you follow canon. Just the relevance of being both needing a physical therapist for years as a minor (yuuka would need go visit the PT even after she fully recovers at least annually for a few years for check ups and drills) in the same hospital alone is enough to make these two at least have a facial familiarity with each other. Yuuka also would have visited katsuya at least once for something or waited for him around the hospital. And these are around outside canon alone.

They could even meet in the duration of the last parts of inago too when yuuka often called kyousuke over. Or even during or in between cs and galaxy. My point is that these two live in a really small world that it's impossible for them to not meet. Even all the canon information they both have would agree that they know each other even if it's just from their faces.

They have the same hobbies and interests and they both love Gouenji Shuuya

Yuuka would appreciate to meet a non-weird gouenji fan once or someone who genuinely wants to be friends with her that's not because of her brother (she does have friends like these tho, but she appreciates having more). I know yuuichi would be the first fan who doesnt talk about gouenji like he's some badass lord of fire.

Aside this fact (this is hc territory), I'm a strong believer that both yuuka and yuuichi are really interested in humanities, social affairs, and politics. You can't be disabled and not be humanitarian. It comes with how shitty the state and some people treats you, i think their interests align just so sooo well. (Adding also my hyperverbal autistic yuuka headcanon here too)

[thesoulbound]

( starer from @no-imaveronica )

1992 was an odd thing to say. It rolled off of the tongue with a tinge of guilt that Veronica couldn’t avoid. She’d gotten away with the worst of the worst, blood on her hands that stained into a new decade, yet here she was living without a trace of evidence pointing her way for all of those deaths back at Westerburg. For all everyone knew, they’d all been unfortunate losses in an epidemic of teenage depression that had ‘just grazed’ Veronica, according to her parents. Now, she was thriving, yet the memories made her sometimes wake in a cold sweat.

The dreams were pretty vivid, even though Jason Dean was dead. She saw him clawing his way from the loose ground in which he’d likely been interred, if his father cared enough to bury him. Baying for her blood, maybe, or another chance to make things right if only to add her name to the list of victims in red ink later. She had to remind herself it was impossible, taking cautions to avoid waking Wesley in the middle of the night with her frantic nightmares. Guilt is what anyone would call it, but she’d done her best to move forward in a neat little one bedroom outside of Brooklyn with a Wall Street trader. Their life was good, and she had to play it off accordingly.

Days she didn’t have classes at the local community college left her home alone until about six in the evening when Wesley would be lugging in after a trip on the subway across the bridge, but today things were different. Seven came, then eight…

Rather than sit idle, she grabbed her coat and was about to open the door to exit when she came face to face with her nightmare in the flesh. Jason Dean. It had to be a hallucination, at least she hoped.

“No— NO. I’m awake and I have things to do and you’re not real.”

He shouldn’t have been alive after the damage she’d witnessed him take firsthand, but as she hurried out of the apartment, the physical contact with his form that she tried to walk right through made her hands come to her mouth and had her whirling around to face him with a gasp and horror in her eyes.

“How…?”

It had taken a long time to get to where he was today. It was kind of a miracle really considering going under the radar after being rightfully blamed for trying to blame up one of his old schools had been easier said than done. In the beginning at least. He was believed to be dead so that helped a ton.

The problem had been his father. Dealing with him hadn't been easy. Not because he cared, but JD had made an attempt to get as much money out of him as possible before he would put a bullet in him and make it seem like an accident.

Once that was done there were years on the road. Growing up. Growing better... or worse... who knew... At least growing up and moving away made it easier so shred the JD of Sherwood, Ohio. Without the gloomy dark hair and trench coat wearing teen angst look he looked almost approachable.

He hadn't even intentionally looked for Veronica at first until this very year. Surprising her would be mildly hilarious though she surprised him first by appearing out the door before he could even knock. Raising an eyebrow when she seemed to think she could push through him. "Bet I feel pretty real though," he winked.

@no-imaveronica

[amyintherapy]

Darkness, Neglect, Shame, Dissociation

I've been struggling emotionally. The nice thing is that I'm far enough along in therapy that I know it's just part of the cycle that comes with facing trauma in therapy. Sometimes I get far enough with discussing trauma that it just puts me into this dark headspace. I had clinical depression as a teenager, and it's not as bad as that, so I hesitate to call it depression - but it's somewhat along those lines.

I want to sleep way too much, and when I sleep I tend to have a lot of nightmares. Or sometimes I just wake up sad and/or anxious without remembering anything I've dreamed about. Everyday tasks require way more effort than they usually do. Like bricks are tied to my feet and arms. It takes a lot of effort to make myself cook even the simplest of meals, to shower, or to play with the cat even when she brings me the toy she loves to play fetch with. She's so cute it hurts, but it still takes effort to play with her when I'm in a dark phase like this.

My mind tosses around childhood memories/trauma on repeat, but it's hard to really put into words. I have to really push myself to open up to my partner about my thoughts and feelings, I usually share with him pretty effortlessly. It's not that I'm trying to block people out, it's just that converting my thoughts and feelings into words others can understand feels extra challenging. Like...I'm not resistant to sharing with him or with a couple of close friends...but I just don't know how. Yet when I have taken the time to figure out how to turn some of those thoughts and feelings into words for him, I feel better. So I've been trying to keep reaching for that. I believe a lot of what I'm experiencing is uncovered shame. I had seen some therapists talk about how trauma is always closely linked with shame, but that we often don't notice it.

I had the realization a couple of weeks back that a lot of my anxiety is rooted in shame. I've also come across content that has talked about having an insecure attachment (aka attachment trauma) is something that tends to leave people with chronic shame because when we failed to develop a secure attachment with our caregivers as infantats, we have to adapt ourselves to try to earn connection. But that means we betray our authentic selves in some way, we put on an act to be what we think we need to be for our caregivers. And that sends us the message that our authentic self is somehow unworthy or not good enough of being connected with, accepted, deeply loved, as-is - which makes us ashamed of who we are. One of the biggest things I'm wrestling with related to my childhood emotional neglect and shame is whether I can trust my own perspective on my childhood. My more logical brain believes that childhood emotional neglect is extremely common. Roughly half of all people have an insecure attachment, and that stems from lacking emotional attunement, which I Think can be considered emotional neglect. But also, common parenting practices completely normalize emotional neglect. Most of the authoritarian parents I know outright expect their children to deny their own beliefs and feelings in favor of obeying the parents' directions or commands. Even among people who I think of as trying to step away from things like demanding obedience and using corporal punishment...many parents still routinely deny their children's feelings and beliefs for the sake of trying to maintain authority. For example, their toddler son snatches a toy from the 5 year old daughter, and the daughter hits her brother in return. The parent yells at the daughter for hitting her brother and she says 'I was so mad he took my toy!' and the parents refuse to validate her anger because they are focused on how her behavior was unacceptable. Which...yes, it's wrong to hit. But you can validate the feeling without validating the behavior, and a lot of even 'gentler' parents don't recognize this, so they routinely invalidate their children - and that's emotional neglect. Extremely normalized, and usually well-intentioned...but emotional neglect when that happens to a child routinely throughout their childhood.

And it makes so much sense when I remember that for young children, their parents are their #1 support person. The way that for most adults, their spouse is. Imagine if the majority of the time that you had big feelings and shared them with your spouse, or your spouse even just witnessed you having big feelings, they disagreed with you about your feelings. Wouldn't you feel so alone and unsupported? Plus you have to factor in that for children, they are born wired to do anything possible to maintain connection with their parents as their little bodies know that they are dependent on their parents for survival. So when they are routinely dismissed and invalidated, they don't think "man, this person is so uncaring! I don't deserve to be dismissed all the time! What a jerk!" they instead think "Man, I am always wrong, I am broken, I can't do anything right." When I think about an example like that in the context of anyone else, it makes sense to me to call that emotional neglect. I know a lot of children who pretty clearly are lacking a sense of safety and closeness with their parents, as they don't go to them when they really need support. For example, they get bullied at school but never tell their parents as they just assume the support won't be there. So many kids feel so alone, and it's due to their needs being neglected so regularly that they don't attempt to keep connections with their parents. Or in worse cases, it's not just that they are lacking support, but that their parents are the source of suffering, so there is no reason to think they could get support if just avoiding being harmed by their parents is the goal. I don't mean to compare or measure traumas, but I don't know how to make the point I need to make without doing so. So please know that I am not at all trying to diminish other people's neglect experiences.

But I think it makes sense to say that a child who regularly had their big feelings invalidated or dismissed was emotionally neglected. Even if they also were given support in some other ways. And my situation goes a lot deeper than that, and yet it's hard for the more emotional side of my brain to accept that it's reasonable to say I was emotionally neglected. For example, even when my mom learned that I was cutting myself, she never asked me what was going on or tried to offer me support. Instead, I was yelled at - and then we pretended nothing was happening for several months. Once a teacher caught on and sent me to the school counselor, they told my mom I needed to see a therapist, and so she set me up with one. But she still never talked to me about my mental health, why I was cutting myself, etc. Even after my therapist pushed me to get on meds for depression, she never paid any attention to whether or not I was taking my meds. She never met with my therapist to find out how I was doing, although she had that right as I was only 14. When she found out about my sexual abuse, she never asked me about it, never offered me any support. To this day I've never discussed it with her. How do you find out that your child was sexually abused and not even talk to them about it? The only time I can recall ever attempting to go to my mom for emotional support or help was when my stepfather was repeatedly making creepy comments about my body. I was 9 and starting to experience very early puberty. I was desperate for him to stop. She had been around when things were said, but had never reacted. I stupidly assumed she must not understand just how upsetting this was for me. And I desperately needed it to stop. So one day while in the car alone with her I worked up the courage to say I was really upset by him always talking about my body. I had a hard time even speaking this to her as I was crying so hard. Her response was that he was "just noticing that I was growing up". He continued to be a creep, she never said anything. I wasn't stupid enough to try to get emotional support from her ever again. The logical side of my brain says that it is beyond reasonable to call my experiences emotional neglect. In one therapy appointment, I mentioned to my therapist that I had realized that I Didn't have a working definition for what emotional neglect meant. Several years back, it had occurred to me that I had working definitions for physical child abuse and emotional child abuse that were very much based on my own experiences. I basically was defining physical abuse in a way that would leave loopholes for my experiences so that I didn't 'qualify' as physically abused. And same for emotional abuse. But I don't even have a definition of emotional neglect, and I think that is because there is no way I could define emotional neglect that wouldn't include me. And yet...the emotional side of my brain is so strong and loud that it somehow feels incorrect to say that. A large, emotional part of me feels like my childhood was quite normal. And I know that 'normal' mostly just means 'common' and that how common something is, has no difference in how traumatic (or not) it was. Logically I know my brain is just grasping at straws, trying to avoid seeing the truth in full detail. Trying to protect me from that pain of accepting the truth. But it's weird because the logical side of me knows already. I don't feel like I am effectively protected from the truth. I just also can't fully accept it, or feel it as true with my whole brain. When I Talk about the neglect, I automatically dissociate and that makes it pretty impossible to FEEL like what I'm thinking is true, as my brain and my body become disconnected. My mind knows the truth, but I don't really FEEL it as true. It still feels false somehow.

In the past, when I've had these days/weeks of feeling 'stuck' in a dark headspace following trauma therapy, it's followed with periods of significant growth and improvement. So, that's my silver lining - that I'm probably in a big phase of growth right now. The whole 'its always darkest before the dawn' concept. But, I am tired of feeling 'dark', and of having so many nightmares. I can tell my partner is missing the regular me, although he's extremely supportive of me and the work I'm doing. I miss the regular me too. And I miss having energy for more than just survival. I have two therapy appointments this week, maybe they'll help me find my way back to regular me.

[alaska386]

F!Bsd anime watcher in the bsd world…

Brief information for the F!bsd anime watcher(I’ll name her Victoria cuz I say so):

-Name: Victoria [last name I’ll just type ‘XXX’ in the introduction time(s)]

-Gender: Female, Pronouns: She/Her

-Age: 14 years old (idk how to write thoughts, behaviour, moods, goals that are ‘mature’ like adults’ ones cuz idk what they think so I set her as a teenager for myself to write this thing easier)

-Ability: Yall are gonna vote on if she’s gonna have an ability from nowhere

-Sexuality: Bisexual

-Nationality: Chinese(I don’t wanna accidentally write some racist stuff if I say American or British or whatsoever)

-Languages she knows/understands/speaks: Chinese/Mandarin/Putonghua(Don’t worry I won’t make her speak Chinese in the story-), fluent English

-Likes: Music(Classical, Relaxing ones are her preferences), Anime and Mangas(not patient enough to read a full series without skipping some chapters, just like me fr), desserts and snacks, nature sceneries, rainy days(the louder the rain the better), knives, comfy clothes

-Dislikes: Dogs, pain, school, homework, studying, bitter pills, loud people and noises

-Hobbies: drawing on a paper and in a drawing app, singing, family stuff, *being read like an open book*

-Appearance: dark brown hair and eyes, around Kenji’s height

-Main bsd kins: Dazai, Ryunosuke, Kyouka, Sigma(always in the middle of some arguments and shits)

-Personality: Has social anxiety, rather quiet, sometimes can’t express herself fluently but tries to and tries to hide the things she thinks she should. Thinks quite negatively, does not fully show it as well, gets nervous easily but doesn’t show it often as well(which Ranpo, Dazai and some other smart/manipulative characters can definitely realise/see through)

Extra: she trusts fate

Btw her character settings some are actually based off mine cuz I figure that it’ll be easier to write this if I imagine her as myself and I’ve imagined myself in the bsd word many times.

Fanfic starts now.

Victoria, who’s a student in a religious school, was sitting on her seat in her classroom during a break before another class started. She was just staring, playing and snapping her fingers while ignoring how loud the classroom was due to how loud her classmates were shouting, yelling and talking to each other. Then, Victoria found herself sitting on a bench instead of the chair in her classroom, she looked up and saw that she was in an unknown but familiar place, she blinked and looked at her surroundings. It looked like the world of an anime she’s currently loving, Bungou stray dogs.

Victoria pov

This… If I’m correct it’s one of the scenes in bsd. Am I in a dream? No. People in their dreams cannot understand the term of dreams.(personal experience has never experienced understanding what a dream is in a dream)

I swear to god if someone(like Fyodor, Nikolai, some stalker) was watching me since I got teleported here— Oh shit. I need to fucking act normally, like how a normal person would act like… When… uh- they suddenly appeared in a place they didn’t know? I’m gonna make that as my case right now because I’m thinking for too long… Okay but if someone’s been watching me(Gurl, your anxiety is so-) it’s not like it’s gonna do anything anymore but, I still need to understand the situation… but to in exchange of their observations to my acts…

I’m thinking too slow! Too slow… ..Am I just fucking excited to be here? In the anime? Ok quit it, I need to understand my situation right now as quick as possible.

The moment I hesitated to move and started to think for minutes already caused some issues and effects, definitely, who knows where did Dostoevsky the rat king put his cameras and spies in? So… I can just act like myself, right? Who knows what’ll happen just because of my thoughts…

Whatever, the best place to go to right now is the ada, the agency. I can’t get distracted by my thoughts now, it’s not like Ranpo’s not gonna read my thoughts and expressions immediately later on. So it’s practically useless thinking further, I need to know how I got here, is this world some sort of au and what I should do, was it an ability(is bsd true) and what timeline is it right now.

I just hope I won’t walk into someone like Elise and Mori, Q, Nikolai disguises as a police(low possibility), Ryunosuke which is because it’ll definitely go wrong due to how I suck I’m at communicating, so on…

No one’s pov

Victoria checks if there’s anything in her pocket which there isn’t and stands up from the bench and starts walking around while looking around. As she continues walking with a blank face(she puts that on as much as she can while calming herself down), she keeps thinking about her situation and what she should do to be the safest for herself.

Victoria pov

Since I do not have a phone so I don’t have a translation, going to the ada cafe and find Lucy to help with my communication will be my best option right now I think.. If she’s working in there right now. But Ranpo’ll definitely understand most of the things like my actions and thoughts, guess I’ll go find him no matter how much I don’t want to.(She doesn’t like being read but she knows Ranpo’s not that kind of person that tells everyone what he found out, so, it’s still fine? She’ll be in danger if she doesn’t do anything after-all.)

Ah…! The agency building… what luck and fate is this…

No one’s pov(extra information if you don’t understand why she’s not acting as if she’s scared or shocked, she sucks at acting and she knows that police can’t help her anything, lack of communication is also one of her problems right now, as much as she doesn’t like getting herself into chaos and troubles, the only option for her was, the ada. She still hopes that Ranpo’s not gonna find out everything about her though.)

Victoria looks up at the agency building then walks in it, (sry just pretend her somehow got to the agency door), she knocks on the agency’s door.

Hope you guys like it! I enjoyed writing this :))

Once again I’ve not had much writing fanfics experience so it might not be in your expectations. Also I need a name for this fanfic!!! Thank you for reading all the way till here!(Victoria’s not quite a normal person but who’s normal if they watch bsd lol)

[lifebefore30]

A recurring memory

My mind is constantly fast-playing thoughts, dreams, and memories.

For some reason, sometimes my BRAIN is like:

"Hey, if you died right now, this is what you would see: "life flashing before your eyes."

The same memories pop up every time. And it's the only time I even think about that memory.

I honestly can't think of what the other are right now. But there is one I remember.

I think I was about 3 or 4 years old. My maternal grandmother took me shopping with her at KMART. I remember the smell of the cafe there. Soft pretzels and blue raspberry slushies. YUMM.

Anyway...

I'm sitting in the front of the cart. I know I said something bratty (don't know what) because I remember my grandmother having this tone in her voice. Like she had enough of my shit. She then started to tell me that I had an older sister but my parents gave her away, and that they would do the same to me if I didn't behave.

I remember doubting what she said but didn't want to take the chance. I did realize later in life that it wasn't true obviously.

But again, when I was super young, like maybe 5, I also remember sitting in the back of the car with my parents in the front. We're driving home from somewhere and I randomly sit up and lean over in between the front seats. (because I don't remember ever using a booster seat back then lol that wasn't a thing. I rode in the back end of a pickup if the weather was nice.)

And I just had this compulsion to blurt out:

"You know, I wish I had different parents."

And I said it with a smile on my face, like matter of factly. Not realizing or thinking of how they would feel. I just had to get that out.

Of course, my parents were stunned. They scolded me of course, telling me how mean I was.

Looking back, I feel bad. Especially with being a parent myself now. I would be heartbroken if my son said that to me.

But those two are some of the first memories for me that I was scolded for saying something I shouldn't have but I couldn't help saying it. It wasn't always "bad" things I would want to say. It was my ideas and opinions on things I heard family members talking about.

And I know it seems that kids say ridiculous stuff all the time. Usually brutely honest.

But eventually, in my early years, I learned the hard way to just keep my mouth shut when adults were around. I didn't want to get screamed at or hit. And not just by family members. It sounds bad, but I really wasn't physically abused much. It was more emotional and neglect than anything, to be honest.

When I hit my teenage years, my family wondered why I was so shy and quiet and stayed in my room as much as possible or not even be home.

Granted one wish, I would talk to my younger self and give advice on how to be happy and safe.

Did not hear either parent say "I love you" or hug me until my first Grippy Sock Vacation at age 19. It felt forced. Like they just wanted to make themselves feel better about their parenting skills.

[jodilinbio]

In 1978, we moved from the newer side of Longmeadow to the older section. Although the house was much older, it was bigger and I liked it a lot better. It didn’t have much of a back or front yard, but that was okay since I was well past the days of playing outside on swings and in makeshift forts and tents. Besides, there weren’t any woods nearby anyway. All there was in the back was a hedge separating a small patch of grass from a small brick terrace. The front yard was similarly sparse. My dad could ditch his sit-down mower for a push-mower and leave the mowing to me. I didn’t mind; it was pretty much all I ever had for chores besides laundry, and keeping my own space neat and clean. I didn’t do any cooking—my only kitchen tasks were to set the table, clear it off afterward, load the dishwasher, and then empty it.

I received a weekly allowance of $10, which I’d spend on cigarettes. A carton of cigarettes cost around $5 when I started smoking and ended up being over $20 when I finally quit eighteen years later.

Unlike our first house, which was on a dead-end road, this house was on the corner of a busier street. It was also a two-story house with four bedrooms. My stereo and guinea pigs were set up in one part of the cellar where I’d hang out a lot.

When Nana Bella first came to live with us at the first house, she’d snitch on me for every little thing. But once she saw how my mom could be at times, she started feeling sorry for me, and we became closer. She even kept her mouth shut when I’d smoke. “Just don’t burn the house down,” she’d tell me.

She passed away when I was away from home as a ward of the state at seventeen. Both of my maternal grandparents died two years later.

As of 2002, if I had to pick a time in my life that was the worst, I’d say my teenage years were definitely it. This was when my mother began running out of patience with me, and her sending me off to other places escalated. Sometimes those places were even worse than being with her. I truly believe my mother never wanted kids in the first place; she only had them because it was expected in those days.

As a hyper child with wild dreams of becoming a rich and famous singer, I was more than getting on my parents’ nerves. They started ignoring me more, becoming increasingly engrossed in TV and outings with friends. I felt neglected, and my mother’s control and ridicule increased. It seemed I could do nothing right, and as my optimism and confidence faded, my early teens were when I first had thoughts of suicide.

I took an overdose of sleeping pills, but it only made me drowsy. I began cutting myself regularly. I wasn’t doing it to die; I was channeling and venting my frustrations, depression, and growing anger. No one influenced me to do this. I never saw it on TV or heard anyone talk about it. In fact, I didn’t know anyone else in the world had ever cut themselves at this time.

Although I was raised Jewish, we rarely went to the temple. Religion wasn’t a regular part of our lives, which was fine with me since I found religion too structured and often bigoted.

Between the ages of twelve and fourteen, I was walking down the street next to ours on a crisp fall day when a middle-aged woman raking leaves in her front yard said, “Oh, what a cute sweatshirt.”

I looked down at my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and said, “Thanks.”

Noticing my ear, she asked about it. After I told her about it, she mentioned that she had a deaf son and invited me to meet him. So I did.

Jeff was a dark, lanky boy a year older than me with the same birthday. He knew sign language well. At the time, I only knew how to fingerspell the alphabet. Jeff taught me many words. I’d write down the words I wanted to know and he’d show me the signs for them.

I also began teaching myself Spanish using books and records as I knew no Hispanic people to help me. There were no Hispanics I knew of in Longmeadow at the time. The only Hispanic people I had met were a family from Venezuela at Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital when I had one of my ear surgeries.

I had never even seen a Black person until I was around ten or a little older. I called the Black section of the city “Dark Land” whenever we drove through it.

I also dabbled in French and shorthand.

Although Jeff and I spent a lot of time together, neither of us was interested in each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. For him, it could have been for any reason. For me, it was because I was mostly attracted to women, though I didn’t understand that yet. I was simply attracted to women more than men; I didn’t question it, whether it was my attraction to someone I’d seen or to singer Linda Ronstadt, one of my favorites, or actress Kate Jackson.

The summer of 1980, when I was fourteen, was not very enjoyable. Instead of being at the beach, my parents were traveling daily to sell eyeglass frames to optometrists. Having just been kicked out of camp, my mother, not ready for me to come home and disrupt her peace, dropped me off in Connecticut at the campground where Uncle Marty and Aunt Ruth spent their summers.

Although I could take my guitar and new guinea pig with me, I was not a “happy camper.” My only good memories from that time were going water-skiing on the lake and diving from a cliff that was fifteen to twenty feet high. It was scary at first, but a lot of fun once I took the plunge.

Marty and Ruth stayed in a trailer while I stayed in a small outdoor tent. I didn’t mind the tent, but I did mind my uncle and my spineless aunt, who went along with his domineering ways. Even so, she was the one who hit me that summer, not him. She slapped me across the face. I’m not sure if it was for bumming smokes off others or for the boy who came into my tent, whom they thought I invited.

This boy entered the tent one early evening when I least expected it. He sat on my cot next to me as I held my guinea pig on my lap.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him.

Saying nothing, he pulled my mouth toward his. Before his lips could touch mine, I heard, “Jodi, who’s in the tent?”

It was Aunt Ruth. Both of us emerged from the tent, but before I could explain, she had already made up her mind about what had happened.

“Get in the trailer!” she demanded, where I spent the night.

Shortly after this incident, my father came to get me. Before we left, he, Marty, and Ruth openly discussed my “problems” as if I weren’t even there.

[knngseulgi]

Seven minutes in heaven

pairing: Eddie Munson x oc (Cecilia Henderson)

note: sorry if this isn’t perfect (it’s literally the first time i post) - also excuse any typos english is not my first language. I just don’t actually like using reader/ y/n so i made an oc for this one. Hope you have fun reading!

second note: this sh1tty tumblr editor probably ate some paragraphs so it’s possible i’ll edit this but yeah - also idk why the spacing in this sucks so bad but anyways. Maybe I’ll post other prompts for the same oc when i write.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none (it’s basically just fluff and some making out yeah so :)

“Why this face, dolly?” Eddie said, closing the door behind him and looking at his bestfriend’s surprised face.

“It’s just that you’re definitely not who I was expecting to be playing 7 minutes in heaven with”

“Sorry to break your heart” Eddie leaned into the wall and made a pouty face.

“Nah, it’s okay. Better be you than some idiot trying to get in my pants. Sorry to ruin some hookup for you, though”

“You really think something would happen if some girl entered here?”

“Why not?”

“Cece, you’re my only female friend. Maybe you should wonder why”

“What? So you don’t think you can pull a cheerleader or something?”

“Definitely not.”

“Yeah, I just thought about what I said right now, never mind” She giggled a little and leaned against the door, crossing her arms. And looked at his glassy eyes smiling softly at her. What kind of idiotic girl wouldn’t kiss his pretty mouth, she dared to think. But since Hawkins are basically 98% made of idiots, and his beautiful smile was usually hidden beneath leather and metal, it would be of expectancy that no one actually cared. In fact, it was better they didn’t care. Because then his smile would be hers and hers truly - that’s what she thought. Even though she didn’t want to show. Even though Eddie was her bestfriend. Even though she sometimes wished he was something else.

“You know it’s every hawkins teenage boy’s dream to be in here, right? Even Jason and Andy from the team. The smart shy girl in cheerleading that just happens to be so stunning it’s bewitching.” Eddie leaned in to get close to her face to see her better. “And yet here you are huh, locked with your bestfriend that already spends too much time alone with you”. Her eyes wandered his details, searching for any weaknesses that she could grab to tease him. That’s how it worked between them, she thought. Lots of tease, no actual doing. Maybe he should do something this time - she thought.

“Though you could’ve easily refused to come. That must mean something, hm, sweetie? Or you thought you were going to meet Narnia when you opened the door?” She grabbed Eddie by the belt and pulled him closer, putting her hands ever so slightly on his shoulders.

“Sometimes this pretty mouth of yours just needs to know when to shut up”

“Oh, so you think I have a pretty mouth, huh?” She leaned in so close to his face she could feel his breath.

“I’d say it’s kissable even.”

“Well then maybe you should make a move. You probably have - what now - 4 minutes, maybe? Doesn’t leave much for a good kiss, I suspect.” She looked at an imaginary watch in her wrist and giggled. She always giggled.

“Cece, I’m not kidding.” He looked through her eyes and made that face that looked like he dissected her brain and found out about all of her dirty thoughts behind it. She didn’t even realize she frowned her face at him. And for a moment they just stood there in silence.

Eddie thought that was already heaven. To see her so close and yet so distant. Seemed like a prize from the gods. Like his own little taste of sugar syrup, before the medicine hits and she makes an incite to say she’s kidding again. And then he falls from heaven - hitting the ground one more time. But just for one flimsy moment - one tiny little moment - he actually thought about it. About how things would be if closets and cheerleading and Hawkins and popularity were so so distant she would actually accept being a part of his heaven - he didn’t even care if it was just for seven minutes. His childhood bestfriend, that just so happened to be the girl of his dreams, right there, two inches from him. And still just so far he could try forever and not even once meet what he thought she deserved. That’s how it was for him. But then she laughed again - and made that pretty face she always had on - a way to tell him to come back to reality. He didn’t know what to say this time.

“…”

“What now?” She pouted at him.

“Don’t look at me like that - Jesus Christ woman - am I that bad?” Eddie turned his head in a childish way and touched his heart with his right hand. She laughed at his statement.

“We are conspicuously close for me to even lie and say I wouldn’t kiss you right now”

“I don’t even know what conspicuously means”

“It’s like when something is like very visible- y’know? Like it attracts attention?” He got closer, trying to meet her unattentive eyes that wandered everywhere but his face. “My shy girl” - Eddie thought - his own very personal poison.

“So you are conspicuous, I get it”

“I guess that’s sorta correct?” She giggled and smiled. Like a dart in his heart.

“Good. How many minutes, pretty girl?”

“Maybe three. But you can just lock the door, y’know.” She finally had the guts to look at him. Jesus Christ those godamn three inches between their faces never looked so fucking far.

“I don’t think closets lock from inside”

“The one at my house does.“ She touched his cheek gently.

“That’s ‘cause your mom thinks the world is gonna end three times a week” Eddie brought the hand that was deposited in his cheek to his lips and kissed it affectionately.

“Or maybe she’s in favour of best friends making out inside them.”

“…”

“Are you in favour of best friends making out inside very tiny closets that smell like naphthalene?”

“In some situations it may seem fair enough” She shrugged and grinned at him “Like if they were to play seven minutes in heaven, I suppose”.

“Why d’ya always act like a menace and then shrug if off - I can never know if it’s serious or not”

“I’m not a menace.” She frowned at him again using those doe eyes that he endeared so much “You’ll never know if you don’t try”.

“Please, please, please don’t hate me” He got so very close to her lips and looked into her eyes. Those pretty fucking eyes that sunk inside his head and took his soul out.

“I’d never hate you, silly.” She gave Eddie a quick pluck in the lips and wandered through his eyes.

And then he kissed her. The seared lips vibrating together in a way that felt like butterflies hammering his stomach and made his body tingle. And she sighed like it was the first time she was breathing pure air. His gentle hands on both sides of her face, killing softly any type of insecurity that aired inside her. Her fingers ever so slightly touching his curls - god she loved those curls so much. These tiny strands of hair that looked so random and yet so very carefully placed. She loved them. She loved him.

Eddie’s lips quickly turned into a grin - deepening the kiss until his tongue grazed over her plush bottom lip - a soft plea for more. Then the hand that rested on her face eased down to her waist so he could pull himself closer. She just wanted to sink into him. Eddie darted his tongue and flickered it on hers - “God could kill me right now so I’d die happy” he thought.

Her hands that rested on his shoulders brushed over his chest to rest on the button of his jeans vest and play with it and they both opened their eyes - making the air feel so solid you could cut it with a knife. She gazed over her own hands - playing with the hem of his vest. Eddie looked over her again - smiling so softly she felt a rush of blood to every single cell of her body.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re shy now - i can see the redness in ur cheeks from here”

“The light is too dim for you to see it - stop lying, Munson”

“I’m Munson now, huh? No Eddie, no sweetie?” He looks tall from over her and grins - “so fucking cocky”, she thinks. He pecks her lips repeatedly, like if he’s trying to stop her from talking.

“Like if you don’t call me Henderson” She says when he moves to her jaw and brushes his lips there so fucking taunting.

“I’ll change your name then” He grazed his lips downwards, pressing them towards her neck, and kissed her- “maybe i’ll call you a witch - cause you threw a spell on me” and kissed her again “or a siren - because you lured me” and again “or maybe even Arwen - though I would be the one to leave any type of paradise if you weren’t with me” and kissed her neck on that sweet spot just near her ear so that he could whisper for only her to hear:

“I love you Cece. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much my heart feels like it’s sinking. And my hands sweat and my body tingles. I don’t care - I don’t care if you don’t love me back - because loving you is already the closest i’ve ever been to heaven.” Eddie breathed out. And then there it was - the mortifying silence between them as they looked right into each other. Just two stupid kids doing stupid kids stuff inside an unbearably tiny closet.

“I think we’re in here for way over seven minutes”

“Jesus fucking Christ after everything I said that’s the first think you think off I-“

“I love you too, Munson.” She gave him a peck on the lips back, like if returning a favor. She touched her forehead on his shoulder and grazed her hand on his arm. “I love you too”.

“Cece I-“

And then the infamous knock on the door. “Hey you love birds it’s been a long time is everything okay in there?” A familiar voice asked. Eddie held her head with his hand gently so that he could whisper on a raspy tone that made her feel like the only one in the world - “Never been better”.

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.