#anyway in the end i think the person who was definitely at fault here was the doctor

[traincat]

Wait a minute, you are not one shiny apple on3? Lol, I thought that was you for the longest time. Anyway, I’m so happy that you were still on here and if I could please ask you: what would Johnny and Peter be like as parents if they had kids together? What kind of dynamic would they also have as parents ? Would one be a little more strict than the other or would they typically be on the same page?

OneShinyApple and I are different people! I'm Traincat here and on ao3 and pretty much everywhere else.

I think they would typically be on the same page, but that Johnny would really want to be the fun parent. This isn't hard, generally -- Peter I think leans towards being the stricter parent, just one with a general air of knowing he'll lose the battle but having to make his feelings known anyway. I think Johnny would swing between wanting to provide everything for his kids, both materially and emotionally, especially considering his own childhood, but also he'd worry he was spoiling them, and that any negative personality trait would be directly his fault. But I also think he'd be pretty protective, judging by how the FF attempt to shield Franklin and Val from the negative effects of celebrity life. So Peter's probably expecting Johnny to want to put their kids on the front of Baby Vogue and Johnny meanwhile is secretly researching high security private chalets in the mountains of Switzerland. I think they're both incredibly protective, in pretty much all areas.

We pretty much know what Peter is like as a dad, because there's a whole series featuring it in MC2's Spider-Girl, and it's just. It's so funny. He's the most Dad Man alive.

Have some Dad Peter pic spam:

"Not even once! I was absolutely perfect." lmfao.

Sidenote, absolutely unbelievable choice to let May and Franklin have a short-lived romantic connection (broken off ultimately because, like Peter says, May is 15 and Franklin is Not). And also to have her date Flash's son, who looks identical to him. And her whole will-they-or-won't-they with Normie Osborn. No notes, Marvel.

Please look at this incredible panel of Johnny and Peter glaring at May's date together. Computer, enhance.

Johnny's also definitely in charge of baby fashion. I'm not saying this just because Johnny's the fashionista between the two of them, and Peter still has shirts with mustard stains on them. I'm saying it because of this panel from House of M:

Look at this. Look at that little Ralph Lauren baby polo and white shorts. Look at this little baby Land's End ad. It has Gwen's color coordinated fingers all over it. There is no way in hell Peter picked that out himself. Which means Johnny will be dressing himself and their kid up in matching flame print outfits and there is nothing Peter can do about it.

[evviejo]

STAR TREK: VOYAGER // S4E17 Retrospect I fancied myself a psychologist, a ship's councillor, but I wasn't prepared for the complexities that come with such a responsibility.

[bibluebutterfly]

Seeing a lot of people start hate on Helluva and how it portrays Greed compared to Lust And Gluttony, so let’s get into my 2 cents. This may be controversial, but I do think Helluva portrayed the sins well and here’s why.

Yes, on the outside, Mammon is definitely the most asshole of the sins we’ve seen so far, but this DOESN’T mean that Bee or even Ozzie are angels.

First of all, Bee ONLY stopped Blitz because he was indulging for PRIDE, not for Gluttony. With all of her other guests, she was more than okay with letting them get complete shit faced to a destructive degree.

As for Ozzie, it’s been proven via “Ozzie’s” that he okay with cheating, going so far as to praise Stolas for it. He’s aware Stolas risked everything for the affair, and praised him for doing so. He straight up encourages people to be as kinky and as nasty as they possibly can. Basically for him, if it’s consensual, go wild.

(Not to mention, he’s in a healthy, loving GAY relationship with his jester. While not inherently bad, it’s more than enough to make a deeply traditional Christian faint. Which does kind of seem to be the goal for the show.)

In the end: Ozzie and Bee are just as destructive as Mammon is. HOWEVER, they are so in a way where it’s not as obvious and they’re not as bad because of it.

Because they only fully indulge in Lust and Gluttony 110%, they’re still able to be relatively decent people because completely indulging in those sins doesn’t inherently make you an asshole. It can make you hella harmful, especially mixed with other sins, but on their own they’re somewhat manageable. (I say somewhat because again: cheating and health destruction are a thing).

Also it should be noted that despite being nice people Bee and Ozzie are still HORRIBLE influences. Like if they’re those people who your parents will disapprove of you being friends with.

But besides that, you can be lustful and gluttonous to 110% and still be a nice person to be around. Not a good person, but a nice one.

HOWEVER, you cannot be greedy to the max and be a nice person.

Here’s the thing; Mam, Bee, and Oz don’t have limits to their own sins. All 3 are still destructive as hell, it’s just that Bee and Oz’s sins allow them to have healthy relationships DESPITE that.

Bee, for all her faults, is a wild party girl. However, her gluttonous nature also allows her to completely indulge in love and affection, hence why she can have such an adorable relationship with Tex.

Ozzie is equally as wild but is also horny and kinky as fuck. But it works because Fizz is just as crazy in bed as he is, and arguably even crazier in general. Fizz is a kinky little gremlin who not only makes Ozzie laugh, but more importantly can keep up with him. That’s part of what allows them to be as happy and wholesome as they are.

Mammon however, cannot be at his sin 110% and keep a relationship. It’s just not possible and I honestly don’t think he wants a relationship with someone anyway, as that means he’d have to share something with another person, which he is simply not capable of doing.

In the end, all the sins are destructive. That’s just fact. However, because of their specific sins (and the fact that they don’t mix with the others), some are able to hold up healthier lifestyles and relationships than others.

[floweycidal]

i keep thinking about how flowey had to construct the very concept of cruelty from the ground up.

not from watching anyone else, not by osmosis, but by cobbling it together himself in the garden where he woke up. alone.

this was a child who fell asleep to his mother's stories, who knew every inflection of his father's laugh. who spent endless golden afternoons with his sibling, both of them doubled over with giggles as they filmed their silly videos, messing up on purpose just to hear each other laugh. again. and again. and again.

so warm. so safe. where the gravest offense imaginable was maybe tracking mud on the carpet.

the worst fear, disappointing people who would love you anyway.

where could he even begin?

save. say these words that once meant comfort, but twist them just so. watch their eyes dim as something inside them breaks. load.

save. make a promise—you remember those, how snug they once made you feel—then shatter it. document exactly how hope crumbles. load.

save. try another combination. another betrayal. watch what splinters differently this time. load.

the world's loneliest science experiment.

look at the cruelty he creates, it's all so personal, specific. so devastatingly asriel.

watch how often he comes back to the idea of being replaced. of being forgotten. how he taunts you with the possibility that none of your relationships matter, that everyone will move on without you. that none of your choices mean anything in the end.

your fault. your responsibility.

if only he you hadn't made anyone love him you. If only he you hadn't loved them back.

of course he'd fixate on all that. how could he not? his mother, who used to speak his name like it was sacred, those tender words she reserved for him—for THEM—are now handed out indiscriminately, like candy to anyone who asks.

all he can do is take note: see how easily love transfers? see how simple it is to fade away?

so, he sneers. taunts you with the thought that it's all dust. you're just another passing face in the crowd. nothing lasts. nothing is worth the weight of caring. but even as he pushes that narrative, as his voice drips with contempt, he is still out there. in the ruins. checking on her.

observing from a distance, like maybe if he watches long enough, his past will solidify into something he can hold again.

flowey develops his cruelty like he's trying to solve an equation. if this word plus this action equals pain, then surely there must be some formula that yields not caring anymore.

if he'd just gotten it right. if he'd just kept everyone at a distance. if he could just be flowey. save. load. the answer has to be here somewhere.

but how do you quantify the sting of hearing her say "my child" to someone else? how do you account for the absence left in the places where joy once thrived? how do you document, in clinical terms, why you keep watching over people you swear don't matter anymore?

you don't devote yourself to perfecting devastation unless you remember, with searing clarity, what it felt like to be whole.

you don't give so much of yourself mastering the art of ridiculing attachment unless you're terrified of how much you still have left to give.

unless every attempt to prove love meaningless just confirms how much meaning it still has for you.

...point IS! flowey did an interesting job creating his own idea of a bully. it's all pathological. so crudely stemmed from his own sorrows and fears. he's created his own textbook definition of meanness...but then every chapter's just him screaming in a mirror.

[tweedcola]

I'm very new to posting here but please enjoy 4.1k words of soft Bucky smut!

Do It Properly

You’re not sure what wakes you in the end. Whether it’s a creaky floorboard, a rustling of your sheets or merely the change in the air that another person brings. Whatever the reason, you open bleary eyes and squint into the darkness, reaching for your phone to check the time. You only notice another presence in your bedroom when he clears this throat and steps forward to the end of your bed.

You let out a tiny ‘eep’ of surprise before your mind registers who the shadowy shape belongs to, but you recover quickly enough to ask, “Bucky?”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes; centenarian, former Winter Soldier and current cat-dad stands looking defeated by your feet.

“Hey,” he responds hoarsely, and you scramble for the switch on your lamp, desperate to see him properly.

The light starts low, gradually brightening the room as it warms up, bringing Bucky into visibility. He looks… well. You’ve seen him worse, definitely. He has this issue (you think it’s an issue, he doesn’t see the problem) in which he throws his whole body into fights with reckless abandon, his own well being taking a backseat when you’re not on missions to remind him that he should look after himself. That he needs to look after himself so he can come back home to you.

His right hand is bandaged which means it must have been pretty bad – they generally don’t bother wrapping up the super soldiers as most of their injuries have faded by the following morning, but it’s his face that really makes you gasp.

“Buck!” you whisper, horrified, as he shuffles forward, bashful under your gaze. “What happened?”

He shrugs off his jacket and you’re hit with the scent of gunpowder and smoke as he chucks it unceremoniously on the floor by the desk chair where Alpine is curled up. Al activates with an inquisitive puurp? arching his back in an elongated stretch to greet his daddy. Bucky turns to scritch the feline’s ears, rolling his shoulders at the same time. You take that to mean, don’t ask but you can’t ignore the angry red welts around his neck, the dark purple blooming under both eyes and Bucky’s wince when he huffs a laugh at Alpine when he kicks his back legs against his fingers as he tickles his tummy.

“Bucky…” you try again, shucking back the covers and reaching for his shoulder. You kneel on the bed and run your hand down his back soothingly, pretending that you’re not looking for further injuries. “You get your nose broken honey?”

Bucky ducks his head and looks at you through his eyelashes pitifully.

“Sam set it back already. Took the shield to the face,” he admits slowly, enjoying your touch as you ease the muscles in his shoulder and at the base of his neck with your fingers, searching out the pressure points that make him groan.

“Why, what’d you say?” you tease, gently.

Bucky huffs again, then cringes as it causes him pain, slumping close to lean on you.

“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. His left hand comes up to play with the strap of your tank top and you shiver against the cool metal. “Steve doesn’t enunciate. He only warned me to duck after he threw the damned thing. Jerk didn’t stop laughing the whole way home.”

You press your lips together and stroke the back of his head, making sure he stays buried in your neck so he can’t see how you’re struggling to hide your amusement.

“And this? You get on Sam’s bad side too?” you stroke his neck lightly, brushing against the vicious bruising that decorates the delicate skin there. Bucky stiffens almost imperceptibly, and you realise that he can’t talk about it. Not yet anyway. You know he’ll come to you when he’s ready.

You heave a sigh and push at his shoulder until he straightens, tilting his chin up to look you in the eye. “You just let me know if I need to go kick bird-boy’s ass, yeah?” you grin, peppering kisses over his eyebrow, betting that it’s a pain-free area before pulling him close again.

“Thanks baby,” Bucky answers on a heavy sigh. You continue threading your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, knowing the comfort of your touch is what he needs right now, rather than a dissection of his latest mission. You need the contact too, the physical reminder that he’s safe in your arms for the time being, though you make a mental note to ask the Captain why it looks like someone tried to garrotte your boyfriend. Honestly, what good is Steve if he’s not watching Bucky’s six when you’re not there?

You remain kneeling on the bed, letting Bucky use you as a crutch for as long as you can bare the weight of the 240-pound super soldier but eventually you have to push at his shoulder to get him to draw back. He harrumphs disappointedly but you know he’s not serious when his eyes drop from your face to skim along the length of your body, his right eyebrow raising appreciatively at the thin camisole and itty-bitty lace panties you’re wearing to counter the heat.

“Damn babydoll…” he begins, his hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to tug you along the bedspread, slightly closer to the edge. “You look good enough to eat.” He gives you a wolfish smile that has you admittedly a little weak in the knees and goes to duck towards your tits but you push at his forehead with a scoff.

“Uh-uh Barnes, don’t even think about it. You need a shower.” With your hands on his hips, he allows you to keep him at arm’s length while you slide from the bed and steer him towards your bathroom, his expression shifting from predatory to a dopey pleased grin as he allows you to take care of him.

“You gonna join me, sugar?” he asks, leaning against the sink as you turn the knobs and crank up the heat to a frankly dangerous degree because Bucky really doesn’t like the cold. You turn to catch him stifling a yawn into his fist, still fully dressed and you gesture at him impatiently.

“I don’t know, you gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself Sergeant?” You start unbuckling and tugging at his clothing, fighting with the supple leather that moulds to his arms as Bucky endeavours to stay awake. It’s a testament to how tired he actually is when you drop to your knees to wrestle his trousers down his legs and he doesn’t make a lewd joke, though you do see his half-hard length give a valiant twitch in his boxers before you tug those down too.

You help him into the shower, thankful that you don’t see any other bruising on his body but knowing that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt before you go to gather his clothes up into your arms. You don’t get that far though, as the glass door slides back open behind you and you’re tugged into the near-scalding water still in your sleep clothes.

“Buck!” you squawk, pressing yourself away from the water ineffectually as the spray soaks the front of your vest anyway. He crowds you up against the tiles that are already slick with condensation, effectively ensuring that no part of you has stayed dry.

“Mmm, you said you’d join me…” he mutters into your shoulder, nuzzling against your damp skin as his hands play with the lace covering your backside.

“And you said you’d keep your hands to yourself,” you huff playfully, reaching for the bar of Imperial Leather soap because old habits die hard and for Bucky the saying is doubly true. You lather the soap between your fingers and start moving it along his shoulders and back where you’re able to reach.

“No…” he drawls, slipping his fingers beneath your panties to stroke over the skin of your hips and ass as he presses his now very interested cock against your lower stomach and rocks you against him. “I didn’t answer and you interpreted my silence as agreement,” he murmurs. “I was very careful about that.”

You draw back and are faced with his incredibly pleased smile, almost impish in his glee that he’s managed to wrangle you into the shower with him for him to do as he pleases. You don’t have the heart to shatter his illusion with the truth, that you’d follow him anywhere under any conditions.

He tickles the soft skin between your thigh and hip and you squeal. You love seeing this side of Bucky, almost child-like in his mischief, even if the activity that you’re doing is very adult.

“Hmm, very clever…” you muse, drawing the soap down his right arm before sliding it up the other, ridding his skin and left arm of two days of sweat and gunpowder before starting to work on his chest. Bucky lets you work for a few quiet moments, watching your movements with half lidded eyes. You glance up at him and snort at the expression on his face; he’s hard for you but obviously can’t decide if he’s more sleepy or horny.

“Relax Buck,” you implore, working soap over his hips and kneading the bone there before making your way down his lower back, eliciting a sinful moan when you hit a knot and the muscle releases.

Bucky mumbles something into the skin of your neck between sweet kisses and you use one hand to tilt his head to the side when you ask him to repeat himself.

“Magic hands,” he slurs, rocking himself in time with your ministrations. “Magic, angel hands. Y’so good to me darlin’.” He pulls back and busies himself with playing with the strap of your tank top. “Wanna be good to you too.” Bucky’s hands drift southward to the waistband of your underwear, dipping his fingers in and teasingly raking his nails over the sensitive skin of your pelvis.

You shudder and feel his cock jump in response. Abandoning your task, you let the soap slide from your grip, ignoring the dull clunk as it hits the porcelain of the tub and instead wrapping your hand around his length and giving him one firm stroke from root to tip.

Bucky grunts, his hips jerking forward towards you. His hand slips fully between your thighs and you let out a sigh when his clever fingers part your folds to trace over your clit gently. Your natural slick mixes with the hot water still beating down on you both creating a heavenly slide that Bucky uses to his advantage, his movements becoming slightly rougher as you pant in his ear.

“That’s it baby, that feel good?” his voice is gruff as your desire heightens and he dips his forefinger into your core up to the first knuckle just to feel you clench around him when he strokes over the top of your clit just right. “Mmm, certainly seems like it feels good.”

You just have the wherewithal to register the slightly mocking tone in your boyfriend’s voice and retaliate with another firm tug on his member, the soap suds lingering on your palm making the glide smooth and slick, cutting off the rest of his sentence when it devolves into a whine.

You continue to jerk him slowly, reveling in the stuttering mess that you’re able to reduce him to with such a simple touch.

“Mmm, so sensitive honey,” you coo into his ear, increasing your pace incrementally. Bucky is completely at your mercy, his hand slackening in your panties and the coil in his stomach tightening with your movements. He rocks upwards on a gasp before straightening and grabbing desperately at your wrist.

“Stop – stop,” he pants, squeezing the base of his dick to stave off the orgasm that had crept up unexpectedly. “Fuck, almost made me blow my load in your hand baby, shit.” Your giggle sets him off with a growl and Bucky hoists you up into his arms, shredding your underwear with a wolfish grin.

“Bastard,” you say playfully, nipping at his bottom lip as he steadies you on a convenient shelf that you’ve only needed to replace three times since Bucky moved in with you.

“You gotta learn doll, none of your underwear is safe around me.”

As if to prove his point Bucky grabs a fistful of your top at chest level and you can see the gears turn in his head as he gets ready to yank and separate the body from the straps –

“Wait!” you call, throwing out an arm to catch his. “Just gimme a minute, damn,” you mutter, peeling the offending piece of clothing from your body and letting it drop to the floor with a wet thwack. “Running out of pyjamas thank you very much, some hopped-up super soldier keeps shredding all my clothes.”

There’s no remorse on Bucky’s face as he eyes your tits hungrily and you wonder when you lost your soft, sleepy boyfriend to this sex-starved menace. Deciding to tease him just a little more, you cup your chest, stroking lightly over your nipples and watch as his pupils dilate fully.

Bucky feels barely restrained, watching as you enjoy the delicate grace of your own touch and damn near drooling, desperate to get his mouth on your tits. He’s captivated by your movements.

“You okay there, Sarge?” you question, punctuating your words with a soft gasp as you apply more pressure to the sensitive peaks of your breasts. You arch your back a touch, your chest lifting just an inch or two closer and Bucky is salivating.

“More,” he requests, the whimper in his voice dampening the order. He recognises the tone for what it is – a plea – and he’d give almost anything to have his hands on you but – god – the way you’re writhing and panting before him, the slick folds of your cunt on display when you let your thighs fall open – Bucky can’t help but think you’re a goddess. He watches you for a minute longer, his body so tense that even the slightest touch might shatter him but what’s a goddess for if not to be worshipped? And Bucky will supplicate at your feet for eternity for you to rid him of his wrongs and cleanse the days before you. He’s been the luckiest son of a bitch for over a year now and he knows he’ll find heaven within you, that you lay peace and forgiveness down before him with simple caresses and erase his guilt with your lips.

You gift him a coy smile and let your hands drop, twining your fingers with Bucky’s and drawing him close until he’s stood between the ‘v’ of your legs, sharing your breath and feeling the heat rolling off your skin.

You tilt your head up and slant your lips against his, dragging his hands up your body to replace where yours had been on the mounds of your chest, encouraging him to squeeze and play as he wishes as you hook your calves over his hips and urge him closer still.

You chance a quick glance up at his face to find that he’s completely enraptured with your chest, snorting a laugh even as he feathers his thumbs over your nipples, raising goosebumps up your arms.

A shudder runs through Bucky’s body when he feels the tip of his cock brush against the heat between your legs and he tilts his hips forward to glide his length along you, delighting in your gasp when he grinds down against your clit.

“You want this?” Bucky asks, his expression split between cocky and desperate as he rocks against you, spreading his hands over your lower back and digging his fingertips into the meat of your ass.

“Mmm,” you whine, your head lolling back to rest against the shower tile, waiting for him to start pushing forward, for that first divine stretch that feels like nothing else –

But it’s not forthcoming. You crack your eyes open and lift your head questioningly.

“Please baby,” Bucky whines, pressing his hips into yours again. You reach up to stroke his cheek and just stop yourself from frowning.

“You need me to say it, Buck?” you ask softly, still running the tips of your fingers along his stubbled jaw, enjoying the scruff that pulls at your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah –“ each breathless plea is punctuated by an eager grind against you and you bite your lip against a moan when you feel his cock throb from where it’s trapped between your bodies.

“Okay honey,” your voice is shaky with desire for your man but you fight to keep your tone clear so he knows exactly how much you want him. “Please fuck me Bucky – I want it so bad, needed it the whole time you were gone – ah!”

You’re barely through your sentence when he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt before stopping just as quickly as he’d begun.

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Mmm,” you whine in response. “Need you to move honey.”

He raises his head and shoots you a look. It’s one that you don’t get very often but you cherish the pinched eyebrows and lip trapped between his teeth as he fights to stop himself from coming prematurely.

“Needja to be patient baby,” he gasps out, his hands clutching at your thighs bruisingly as his Brooklyn accent slips into place. You can almost see his thought process as he runs through baseball statistics and multiplication tables in his head. You’re sweating by the time the tension finally drains from Bucky’s shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on him when he gives a couple of gentle test-thrusts.

“You’re not helping,” he grunts, as he gets a better grip on your slippery skin to hoist your legs higher, and you’re honestly not sure if he’s speaking to you or your pussy.

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as Bucky lets you know he’s ready with a sharp snap of his hips and a grunt from deep in his chest when you dig your nails into his shoulders in surprise.

“Careful with the claws, kitten,” Bucky groans before really laying into you.

You cling to one another as his hips snap into yours orchestrating a rhythm of skin hitting skin that is only amplified by the water. The bathroom echoes with your lovemaking, even as you bite at your lip – it’s still the middle of the night and you share walls with two other apartments in this block, not to mention your poor downstairs neighbours.

It only takes a few moments for Bucky’s rough strokes to build your pleasure high enough for you to stumble and a sharp moan of his name escapes you.

“Oh god honey,” Bucky pants, uncurling his left arm from around your waist to reach out and grab the top of the shower door for stability. “That good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you pant, “S’good Buck, it’s good.” Your words escape you in a staccato, hiccoughing rhythm that he punches out of you in time with the movement of his hips. You tip your head back and Bucky takes the opportunity to litter a series of sweet kisses against your neck, whispering words of devotion in between the brushes of his lips, drinking in the ecstatic sounds that you’re making.

“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so good, s’good, don’t wanna leave, never gonna leave ya again, love you so much baby,” Bucky’s inner monologue escapes without direction as your pleasure climbs, his words encouraging your end almost as much as his movement.

“Please – please Bucky,” you stutter out, dropping your hand between the two of you to stroke at your clit, your desperation for an orgasm acute after being without him for too long.

“Me, honey, let me,” Bucky insists, leaning his upper body away from you slightly to find the best angle. His practiced fingers find you easily and you feel yourself clench involuntarily around him when his thumb massages you in just the right pattern. The moan that you let out is quiet but so desperately needy that Bucky hisses when his cock throbs in response but by that time it’s too late for you anyway.

You dive off of the precipice, arching your back and feeling your pussy pulse uncontrollably as you’re ignited from the inside. Bucky pushes in to the hilt one final time before he too lets go, whimpering quietly as he joins your bliss.

You remain entwined beneath the water for a few long moments, relishing in the feel of one another before Bucky tilts his head back to look at you, his eyes still hazy with lingering pleasure. You know he’s not able to get drunk but if you saw him like this at any other time you’d assume he was intoxicated. You snort internally and go to make fun of his pussy-drunk expression when –

“Marry me.”

You slap your hand against the shower wall, groping desperately for the button that will halt the stream of water beating against the glass because you think that you just heard your super soldier boyfriend propose to you while he’s still very much inside you.

“What, Bucky-what?!” you finally locate the off switch and shower ceases, leaving the pitter-pattering of water droplets as the only sound in the room while you and Bucky stare at one another. “Did you just – ”

“No.” His response is short and sharp, cutting over the end of your question, as though he can’t bear to hear the words leave your lips. When you blink at him, he has the gall to look guilty and his shoulders drop in defeat. “I said – I – ” he takes a moment to clear his throat twice before speaking again.

“I said marry me. I’m sorry.”

Silence reigns again while you absorb the shock of his words.

“Bucky…” you begin slowly, wriggling back slightly to bring attention to his cock still buried to the hilt and his hips still fit snuggly between your thighs. “…are you proposing to me while you’re still balls deep?”

Bucky groans and lets his head drop to your shoulder as your laughter rings out but you wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze him as close to you as you possibly can, hooking your ankles one over the other at the small of his back so he can’t escape you.

“I – I had a plan, and a ring –” he starts to explain into your neck but you silence him with a tug to his hair so that you can meet his eyes. The concern etched on his face disappears almost as soon as he sees your joyful expression and he gifts you the softest, sweetest smile in return before taking a deep breath in and you just know what’s going to come next.

So you reach up quickly and place the tops of your fingers over his mouth.

This man – this man who has been through so much more than anyone should have to, who has survived horror and death and the loss of his autonomy only to come through the other side still able to love – deserves to have exactly what he wants. He deserves to have this moment, his proposal, exactly as picture perfect as he’s always imagined. And so although you know you’ll say yes, that you’ll marry him in a heartbeat, you halt Bucky’s next words.

“Wait,” you instruct gently. “Just wait. Do your plan – give me the ring.” You don’t explain further but brush your lips against his once, twice and whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you sweetheart.” Bucky responds just as quietly, and you feel the full force of his devotion and adoration hit you when he rests his forehead against yours briefly.

The moment is ruined when he steps away from you to turn the shower back on to wash away the evidence of your lovemaking with a mumbled; “It’s a good thing you didn’t say yes, Sam woulda never let me live it down if I’d proposed like that.”

You shuffle under the warm spray and wrap your arms around Bucky’s waist to gaze innocently up at him. “Oh – I’ll definitely be telling Sam about this,” you state. “My pussy game is so good that I got a marriage proposal? Bucky, I’m telling everyone.”

Your squeal echoes off the tiles as Bucky growls and digs his fingers into your waist in retaliation, grinning wickedly, and barely able to stop himself from sprinting to his underwear drawer to recover the ring nestled at the back.

He’ll do it properly tomorrow.

[pinkyqily]

IT OKAY,WE'RE OKAY, WE ARE DEFINITELY OKAY

Summary: juju apologize and makes it up to you like the good girlfriend and teammate she is.

Part one

Contains: fluff, snappy lovers, cursing, groveling, not proofread throughly yet

A/n: here is part two as promised with a happy ending, would love to get reactions or feedbacks of what you guys think, if you have any juju requests feel free to send them in anyway happy reading readers 🩷

Next few days between you and JuJu pass by a blur. Having your coaches telling you guys to solve out your shit was definitely a wake-up call for you, you're mind just keeps on replaying those awful words from juju.

Was that how she really saw you as a player? was all your mind could wonder.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop thinking about how she felt even though you were the one that got hurt the most.

Ken, who was your roomie and heard about what happened between you and juju,tried getting you out of your hotel room. But you declined again. the only time you went down was when there was barely anyone down at the lobby side.

You couldn't face your teammates after that embarrassing showdown. It made you feel like a failure.

"Come, you'll still have to face everyone when we leave for the arcade, why do you have to be the one embarrassed juju was basically at fault too". She said trying to shake you up.

"She's literally one of the best players of course, what she said is going to get to me, if it was said in private, okay, but she did that in front of everyone". You told her, feeling a cold wind reach your spine.

"For somebody who always steps up for us you sure love discrediting yourself like you also aren't the best out there, juju saying that was nasty and loud for no reason so please get your ass up". Was all Ken said.

This time you did, because fuck juju who clearly had her head far in her ass to see how great of a player you are. and what you bring to the team all those 3s she be pulling must have blinded her vision or what.

"You know what you're right fuck her from now I'll be standing on business, she can go find another bitch to be pissy on cause I'm not the one".

"That's my girl now let's head down, and when you see her, you keep your head high." She told you, pulling you into a tight hug.

But the universe had other plans by slapping you in the face, because as you opened your room door, there was a juju watkins pacing back and forth in front of your door with a messy looking bun that definitely not her brand.

With only one look, you could tell she wasn't the only one who had a bad night.

Normally, you two would fall asleep on call listening to each other's voices as it helps the other person calm down.

It didn't matter if you were states away one block away down the street or rooms separating you guys would still call.

but after what happened last night, you both couldn't bring yourself to pick up that telephone.

And here you both are staring into each other's eyes unable to speak up until a familiar voice does it for you.

"JuJu, what are you doing here?". Ken asked her, crossing her arms over, letting her disapproval be known.

"I know you guys are mad at me rightfully so, but please give me 5 minutes that all I ask for." She said, fidgeting with her hands.

"Five minutes is all you're getting don't think I'm not timing it." She said as she left you both heading downstairs herself.

You and juju stood in that silence for a good two minutes, avoiding eye contact most ju.

"You have three minutes left, so whatever you want to say now,speak up." You said with a mean tone, not glazing any bullshit.

"I know, I messed up really bad and shouldn't have said what I did, you're an amazing player to our team you pick up the pieces whenever everyone seems lost." She started by saying her voice breaking as she fought back tears so she could speak.

"you put the teams needs before your own, your flow on the ball is way different than anyone else and you're a very unique player who contributes so much to the team"

"You're so important to me way beyond being teammates but girlfriends at the same time not only was I a bad teammate but also a bad girlfriend for saying and treating you like that." She told you this time around, able to meet your eyes after avoiding them.

"I just want to apologize because I know that I'm better than that, you deserve better and I want to be the better person you deserve so would you forgive me you don't have to rush it". She finished of by saying.

You we're definitely shocked to see her being so vulnerable and raw to you.

"You really hurt me by saying all those things in front of everyone I felt so embarrassed standing there looking like a fool ju, but that doesn't mean I hate you I'm just really hurt you had me overthinking like I did something wrong when I wanted was to help you". You told her, feeling a little hesitant as you moved your hands to grab hers.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to forgive you". You told.

"I know, baby, take your time can i hug you, though?" She asked you before doing anything. You pulled her into a hug, forgetting about your whole standings on business cause you missed having your 6'2 social awkward girlfriend in your arms.

And that is how you found yourself standing next to her at one of the arcade games because she said she was going to start by winning you a prize. She didn't lie about that one and won the biggest bear in there for you.

Ken was already looking disappointed but was happy that you guys fixed things.

"Couldn't even stand on business for 24h". You heard a voice say.

"Bruh, she's still not fully forgiven how do you expect me to stay that mad at her?". You told her

"Whatever you guys are ruining my mood with your sappyness."

"You're just mad and single Ken it okay you'll find the one". You told her.

On the way back, you both sat down together in the bus, falling asleep on each other. Everything ended up being okay. ju stil has hella groveling to do, but you guys are okay, and that's all that matters.

[madebysae]

Kiss It Better | K. Saebyeok

♡ pairing: 𝘴𝘢𝘦𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

♡ genre: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 (18+)

♡ warning(s): 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

♡ summary: 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘨-𝘰𝘧-𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘦𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯.

♡ word count: 1.7𝘬

♡ a/n: 𝘐𝘔 𝘉𝘓𝘜𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎. 𝘴𝘢𝘦𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦

After the game of “Red Light, Green Light”, you convinced yourself that it was better to detach yourself from…everything, really. You would not make alliances unless absolutely necessary, and you most definitely wouldn’t form a personal connection with anyone in the game, no matter what.

That is, until you met her. You had first encountered her before the game of Tug-Of-War, when she asked you to join her team.

Your team ended up winning the game, but the traumatizing effect it had on all of you were almost palpable in the air as you rode the elevator down. This time, it wasn’t the guards doing the killing. You had all killed other innocent human beings by your very own hands.

As much as you had fought to remain detached, you couldn’t help but start shaking. Those people… they were just like you. They had a life too-

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t think like that.” she whispered in your ear. She grabbed your chin and tilted it up to meet her eyes, “Hey, look at me. There was nothing you could’ve done. Would you rather have been the one to die up there?”

You shook your head no.

“Exactly. So move on.”

She had a point, but that night, you were kept awake. Tossing and turning in your cold bunk, you couldn’t shake the memory of the blood-curdling screams of the other team as they fell to their deaths.

Finally, you decided to go to the bathroom and see if splashing your face with cold water would help. Once you got there, you were surprised to find the beautiful mystery girl from the Tug-Of-War game already there, leaning against the sinks with her back towards you.

You turned on the faucet of the sink next to hers, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

You splashed cold water on your face and sighed heavily. You were right, it did help. You turned to her, briefly glancing at her perfect jawline before your eyes met hers, who you realized were already looking at you with brimming intensity.

“Listen, if you’re still thinking about that game - I already told you, there’s nothing you could’ve done. I’ve said it once, I don’t mind saying it a hundred times until I finally beat it into your head. It’s not your fault. And all that matters is we’re still alive.”

Her words comforted you more than she’d ever know, and you felt suddenly self-conscious. She was probably feeling some sort of trauma too, yet you had no words whatsoever that could possibly help her as much as she had helped you. So you simply offered her a small smile and whispered, “Thank you.”

Without thinking, you reached out, your hand slightly brushing against hers. When you weren’t met with any resistance, you hesitantly took her hand in yours. You were relieved to see that she didn’t pull away nor did she have any intention to - anytime soon, anyway.

She stepped towards you slowly, her eyes glancing to your lips before darting back up to your eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw an almost unnoticeable, rare hint of nervousness in her usually expressionless eyes as she asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, and you were sure she could hear your heart almost beating out of your chest. You nodded dumbly.

Without breaking eye contact, she leaned in and captured your mouth in a passionate kiss. Your tongues tangled together before you finally gave in and let her dominate you. Your hands found their way into her beautiful hair, pulling her impossibly closer.

She pulled back, panting. Desperate for more of her, you immediately moved down to suck and bite on her neck. Her eyes were glossed over with lust as she breathed out, “Kang Saebyeok.”

You paused, “What?”

“My name. It’s Saebyeok.” her lips twitched upward in a half-smirk, about to pull you back into another kiss, “So you know what to scream out later.”

You couldn’t hold back a choked moan at the implication.

What a beautiful name. How fitting.

Panting, you pulled away and pushed Saebyeok against the sink with a random burst of confidence. You reached down and pulled down her pants, your own need now masking any self-consciousness you felt earlier. After she nodded her permission, you slid two fingers inside her panties, and you sighed in satisfaction at the warmth and wetness that was already waiting for you. Her soft gasps filled the room as your fingers found her clit and gently pressed against it, already swollen with arousal.

You dropped to your knees and peeled off her underwear, exposing the pretty pink folds glistening wet. You moaned at the sight. “I dreamed of tasting you,” you murmured.

Saebyeok’s legs trembled slightly as she used her arms to brace herself against the sink, her eyes dark with lust. “Do it then,” her commanding voice managed to turn you on even more.

You definitely didn’t need any more encouragement. You leaned in, nose brushing against Saebyeok’s inner thigh as you inhaled the sweet scent of her arousal. You proceeded to kiss your way up, teasing her sensitive skin with light touches, until you finally reached her dripping wet cunt. Your tongue swirled around her clit, tasting her addicting sweetness.

Saebyeok’s hands gripped the edges of the sink as she gasped in pleasure, her knuckles turning whiter by the second. Her moans grew louder, echoing off the bathroom walls. You felt a thrill of power surge through you, knowing that you had reduced this beautiful, dominant woman to a moaning mess just by your tongue.

Her taste was so intoxicating that it made you almost dizzy.

“Fuck,” Saebyeok moaned out, her hips bucking against your mouth. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

You placed your hands on the sides of her hips, holding her still as your tongue fucked deeper into her, teeth gently grazing the sensitive flesh around Saebyeok’s clit. You felt a shiver run through Saebyeok’s body, and knew she was close. The taste of her was unbelievably addictive, but you wanted more.

“Say my name,” you stopped your ministrations to whisper out. The vibrations against her pussy made her squirm above you, but you kept her hips steady as you looked up at her, “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, Y/N I’m gonna come,” Saebyeok panted, her voice unusually tight as you continued to lap at her folds. “Oh, fuck, right there!”

All you did was hum in response. She could feel the orgasm building, and knew she couldn’t hold on much longer, not with your skilled tongue fucking her this good.

Saebyeok came with a strangled cry, her body arching into your mouth as she climaxed. You felt the warm, slick liquid fill your mouth and swallowed all of it hungrily, sucking at every last drop until she came down from her high.

She gently pulled you up to her feet, looking at you with lust-filled eyes. “Your turn,” she murmured. Before you could even catch your breath, Saebyeok captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, biting and tugging at your bottom lip.

With unsurprising strength, Saebyeok scooped you up and set you on top of the sink, your legs dangling over the edge. She stepped in between them, then removed your pants and underwear in one go. The sudden coolness sent a jolt through you, making you want to pull Saebyeok closer.

She leaned in to kiss you again, and you easily melted into the kiss, your body responding instinctively to her touch.

Saebyeok slid her hand between your legs, her fingers slipping into the wetness that had pooled there. You moaned into the kiss, hips rocking against her fingers as you wordlessly begged for more. The sound seemed to fuel something in Saebyeok.

“You’re so wet for me,” Saebyeok said against your lips, her voice a low growl.

You could only whimper in response, your hands fisting through her hair as you felt your climax building. The sensation of Saebyeok’s fingers moving inside you, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, was almost too much to bear.

“I’m gonna make you come,” Saebyeok whispered, her eyes never leaving yours. “You’re gonna scream my name.”

You nodded frantically. “Please,” you begged, voice barely above a whisper. “Make me come, Saebyeok.”

Saebyeok smirked, her eyes full of satisfaction, and her thumb began to circle your clit with skillful pressure while her fingers continued to roughly thrust into you. Each stroke sent shivers of pleasure shooting through your body, making your legs tremble.

Your moans grew louder, echoing through the quiet, empty bathroom. You could feel the orgasm rising. “Oh,” you gasped, your head falling back. “Saebyeok, I’m going to…”

“Come for me,” Saebyeok ordered. Her fingers didn’t even slow down as she worked you closer to the edge.

The words were like a dam breaking, and with a loud moan, you came. Your body convulsed, muscles spasming around Saebyeok’s fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. You had never felt so alive, so exposed, so utterly consumed by another person.

Saebyeok didn’t stop her ministrations, fingering you through your high. She watched with a smug smile as your eyes rolled back, your breath coming in ragged pants. “That’s it,” she encouraged, her thumb pressing firmly on your clit.

Once she had wrung every last ounce of ecstasy from you, Saebyeok slowly withdrew her hand, her eyes never leaving yours. She brought her fingers to her mouth, moaning at the taste of you on her tongue. The sight almost made you cum again on the spot.

Legs weak and trembling, you slid off the counter, pulling Saebyeok closer for another kiss. It was softer this time, nothing like what you had been doing just seconds ago.

She pulled away first and rested her forehead on yours.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered, a hint of sadness barely noticeable in your voice.

“Me too,” she replied, grabbing a paper towel and wiping the two of you clean. She pulled her own bottoms back on, then helped you into yours.

The two of you agreed that she would walk out first, then you would go after a few minutes in order not to raise suspicion. When you entered the dormitory, you were glad to see that people were still fast asleep, no one awake to hear yours and Saebyeok’s moans - thankfully, because in hindsight, yours were embarrassingly loud.

You settled comfortably back into your sheets and fell asleep with a small smile, for once not worried about what was to come in this hellhole, as long as you had Saebyeok by your side.

[therealsquiddo]

hello do you have any advice for writing your characters? Lifesteal, ksmp, etc,

For example in a previous post you said how c!Squiddo was misunderstood as a :3 type when they’re more unhinged than that. is there anything that’s similar?

Okay ksmp Squiddo is definitely a :3 type but that's because I was actually playing a character. On lifesteal "c!squiddo" is almost 100% just me, I know some people play characters and think about motives and whatnot but for me I'm just hanging out haha

Umm, here's a bit of advice. c!squiddo is a really bitter and hypocritical person. In real life that's because when I need to make videos on Lifesteal, I can't do PvP so I have to get creative. That makes her (me?) into a conniving character who will stop at literally nothing if it means getting her way

I'm not scared of anything on Lifesteal because I don't care. If I lose a heart, so what? Everything always works out pretty well in the end anyway. But if I die I will still inexplicably get bitter and throw a fit ahaha even though it was my own fault for being so careless in the first place

And lastly I lie a lot about absolutely everything to everyone. If someone says "Squiddo, you must be really low on hearts right!?" I will nervously laugh and say "let's just say it's not looking so good..." if somebody says "Squiddo, you're taking so much damage! How are you still alive!?" I would nervously laugh and say "let's just say I'm not on lifesteal struggle twitter any more..." even if i was at 10 hearts in both scenarios. I don't know why I do that because it causes far more problems than it ever solves

Hopefully that helps!!!!!!! Bye bye!!!!!!

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 3 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which after everything you gave, you're not sure if you're going to keep going. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 3 ! final part for my first two works, I'm proud of how it came out

taglist: @girlidekanymore @sunflower-tia @nicolesainz @chilwellspulisic @anotherfan07

inspired by taylor swift's songs.

The feeling of freshness —the wonderful smells, the damp feel of leaves falling down the trees, the breeze and the rain on your skin. The sound of rain is wonderful: not just between a hard roof and leaves, but you can hear it on different types of trees and hedges.

The flowers, which look like they were painted by Monet himself, have colours so rich that no one can even attempt to imitate them. From the smallest weed to the grandest stalk, they are all beautiful in your eyes.

Around you are your friends; some are talking or enjoying the countryside air. You had decided to take me on a little vacation before returning to the routine of the busy city of London.

No distractions, no disturbances, especially without him. After seeing how Mason smiled at that blonde standing next to him and Debbie's painful look in the boat, you knew all these years were in vain.

The moments when you took care of him after he vomited from all the alcohol he had consumed at the party, when you covered him so he could go on dates with different girls and other things you had done for him.

The last time Mason saw you still burned in the back of your mind, the little stolen glances he gave you while you were wearing a pink t-shirt, the one that you had left back in a drawer in the Mount's house. Stacey had told you the t-shirt drove him crazy.

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t understand why nothing went your way. Was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the gulf?

—Babes, how could you ever think it's your fault? Clearly, he is out of his mind. —Clara talked. You and your friends were sitting on the porch in the extensive field that belonged to your grandparents.

Then Adelaida, who was resting her head on your lap, suddenly stood up, leaning on one elbow and said: —Please don't think it's your fault, you would be lowering yourself to his level.

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you... even your mother. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the heartbreak that felt it was never-ending. 

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling that pulled you to another person, that proved he was the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know he wasn’t. 

Even though you were angry at him, you knew that when you saw him you would act like a little girl, crazy in love.

On the other side, Mason was in the kitchen, picking at the leftover food on the tabletop as everyone else was in the living room. His mother walked into the kitchen as he took a bite of little meatballs that looked delicious and she laughed at the pieces of meat that had fallen onto the kitchen counter.

—That’s definitely not the way to eat —she smirked knowing his son wasn't the type of person to sit down and eat properly.

—But you love me anyways, mom. —Mason flashed his puppy eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. It had been a long year for Mason. He stopped turning to family events when he knew you would be there.

—Mason Tony Mount, I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself-

—Mom. —Mason sighed. —Don't start this whole speech about her, please.

—Dear, I don’t even need to say her name... it will always be her. —She smiled, sadly, as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

—She's happy, from what I heard. —he scoffed again.

—So then you know you’re being an ass, right?

Mason's eyes widened at his mother's question but she just laughed and waved him off. —After all the years she spent after you, dear, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.

That sentence shattered his heart. You weren't the little girl who ran behind him in search of attention anymore, you were a woman with maturity, feelings and beauty.

—But what if I’m not happy? —he asked his mum. Debbie felt her heart clench at his words, it was never good for a mother when they saw their son being at his lowest.

—Do you love her?

There was no answer.

—See, that would be very cruel. Mase... either you love her or you’re jealous. Just remember that she's a second daughter to me and I know her like the palm of my hand. I'm certain that she’s fragile when it comes to you.

After a week in the countryside with your friends, you were back in the city, at a party the english players were throwing in celebration of their team winning the last few games.

Every time he looks at you, it’s making him go mad. It surprises him how much influence you have on his night out. He actually believed he could handle it, seeing you after a while. Normally he’s the one who takes you to the football after-parties because you begged him like crazy. But not this time.

Did you wear a white dress on purpose tonight? He doesn’t know. You look beautiful and he wishes he had the nerve to tell you how great white looks on you. He remembers the time you almost kiss in the box, you in the white sweatshirt with his number. The guy talking to you on your right was Foden. Did you wear it for him? He doesn’t believe that, he doesn’t think he deserves that. 

Mason sighs. This is one of the hardest nights in his life. He shouldn’t have messed it up. If he didn’t follow what Ben said to him, he would probably be the one talking to you. Fucking Ben.

At the same time, you don’t know what’s bothering Mason. You thought he would be coming to the afterparty with Daphne, but his friends confirmed that he forgot her quickly. He didn't even kiss her. Neither touch her.

It surprised you, you were afraid he would show up with that beautiful model. A part of you felt really happy.

You feel his eyes burning into you while you talk to Foden. You quickly take the cocktail out of Phil's hands, while thanking him in the meantime. He shrugs it off. 

—What’s up with you? —He asks you after you take a few sips. 

—What do you mean? —You ask him. Is he noticing your bad mood? You tried hiding it, but maybe you failed.

—You seem distracted. Did something happen? —he goes on. You take a sip of your cocktail, thinking about your response. Could it be a bad plan to tell him about Mase? They’re friends after all. But on the other hand, it would be nice to talk about it to someone. 

—It’s him, isn’t it? —Foden answers his own question. You didn’t even realize you were looking at Mason until Phil spoke. You nod towards him, —Let’s go outside.

Then, you're sitting on a wooden bench outside. The white dress doesn’t give you much warmth, so you embarrassingly start to shiver. Before you can notice it, Phil drapes his jacket around your shoulders. 

—Fuck... —he says, regretting. —I knew it would be a bad plan to invite you. —Mutters softly, —I thought it was a good idea to make you feel better, now I just got Mount to get angry at you.

You laughed, thinking that was very cute. —That’s not true, Phil —you try to comfort him, —you can’t help me being an idiot.

—To be fair, Mason and you are both idiots. —Foden laughs, —Definitely unaware idiots-

But before he can explain to you anything, Mason shows up in front of you. 

While walking back to his car, he notices the sound of people talking outside. He thinks he’s recognizing your voice. He must be going insane, he thinks tiredly to himself. But still, he walks towards the sound. Quickly seeing you and Phil sitting together... fucking hell, why are you wearing his jacket? 

Before he realizes it himself, he stands before you and his teammate Foden. The chattering stops directly, did he interrupt something? He feels awkward with you and Phil looking at him amusingly. How can he fix this awful situation? 

—I uh... I wanted to say bye to you. —Mason said, ignoring the existence of Phil. —I am supposed to bring you home or will Phil...?—He stutters eventually, not wanting to finish his question.

—Wait, Mase, can we talk? —You react before Mason turns around and walks to his car in a rush. He nods.

—Of course.

The silence was sharply awkward.

—Don’t forget your jacket, Foden —Mason quickly says, —she can wear mine while we’re outside.

Phil, who no longer was sitting on the bench, laughed for a bit at his hopeless friend. Then he walks up to you, and takes his own jacket from your shoulders, while Mason quickly takes off his. You give Phil a quick hug to thank him, before getting into Mason's jacket.

—Don’t be an idiot to her —says Phil toward Mason whispering in his ear. You smile shyly, flushing with Phil's comment. 

Mason doesn’t know how to watch the interaction between his friend and you. He doesn't know where to look when you turn your attention to him. The white dress quickly grabs his attention once again.

Silently, both of you walk to the parking lot where his fancy Mercedes-AMG was parked. You had always made fun of him because the car was too posh in your opinion, although every time you needed a ride home you always ended up in his car.

Firstly he took the car keys out of his pocket and then he opened your door for you. He had always been a gentleman. The situation is unexpected, yet influenced by the tension that’s been built between you two through the last couple of months. 

—So, what do you want to talk about? —Mason asks you. You lasted a few seconds thinking about how to answer his question.

—Why were you ignoring me today? Why didn’t you come up to me and Phil to say hi? —You fire multiple questions at him, —did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me? —Your words cut through the thick air inside the car.

—I thought the two of you were busy with each other. —Mason mutters.

You scoff, this was unbelievable. —That’s bullshit Mase, you know I always make time for you.

—God!, I just wasn’t in the mood to see you two. —He said, elevating his tone, trying to sound casual but deep down, jealousy was gnawing at him like a relentless beast.

You don’t know what to say to Mason. You don’t even know what the boy means. He wasn’t in the mood to see you? Since when could that happen? 

—Why? —You barely dare to ask him. You have no choice, so you repeat your last question —why, Mase? —Your eyes start to fill with tears.

Mason sighs, —You won’t get it.

—You don’t know that. Try me.

—I just... I just don’t like seeing you with other boys —he confessed. You doubt for a bit. Should you tell him you were relieved he showed up alone instead of coming with Daphne? You decide not.

—Oh, come on Mason! You can't say that! —You almost shout. Mason's eyes open like plates. You had never raised your voice at him like that, so angry.

—Why not? —He, as well, says almost shouting.

—Because you don't have the right! It's-it's just that you can't say that as if my feelings were so simple... —You tried to calm yourself, you could lost everything now.

—Mason, I've been with you since the beginning and you know that. I'm your biggest supporter and deep inside you know I’ll always cheer for you. I’ve spent my whole girlhood- Fuck. —Tears start scrolling down your delicate face. He looks at you as if you were graceful.

—I wanted to be with you tonight, —you eventually say after a long silence—but you looked at me as if I didn’t matter.

—I know.

You sigh. Can't the boy say anything else? You feel obligated to talk further: —Why aren’t you telling me what’s wrong?

You don't get any answer. Looking at the ceiling of the car, you try to keep your cool.

—You know what? I’m going back to the party. Call me when you can explain at least something. —You want to undo yourself from Mason's warm jacket, but he stops you directly by grabbing your arm.

—I know you deserve to know what’s going on, but I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s a shitty excuse which makes everything even more unclear, but please don’t go back inside. —Mason talks soft and fast —and please keep the jacket on.

—What’s so important about the jacket? —You ask with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit. 

—Your dress distracts me and I don’t want to see you in anyone else’s jacket again. —This time he is direct with his words. Almost harsh. You wonder why your dress distracts him. Does he find it ugly?

 —Don’t you like the dress? —You ask.

 —I fucking love the dress. —Mason says. At that moment you feel something clicking. Despite his short explanation, you wonder if Mason may return your feelings.

—Just give me time. Everything is happening so fast and the fact that I'm just realizing that all these years all I've been doing is hurting you makes me go mad angry at myself. —He says, without breathing. —And... I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for everything I've done, for the countless times I've hurt you. I promise you will have a proper explanation. —He tried to smile, with tears in his eyes.

—That's the Mase I know... —You laugh lightly and Mason just stares at you, sweetly. —Now take me back home, probably my brother is already wasted.

What you didn't know is that that day Mason Mount started falling in love with you.

A few days after you were your house, sat in the cozy familiarity of the your couch while your mother flipped through the pages of a weathered photo album resting on her lap. Each turn of the page revealed a snapshot of your brother's and your past, a journey frozen in time.

—Look! You're wearing my glasses! —Said your mother, with clear emotion in her voice. She turned some pages that had photographs of your childhood: when you were born, your first tooth fell out and many more memories.

Your cheeks flushed with nostalgic warmth, a subtle testament to the innocence and joy captured in each photograph.

Among the sepia-toned memories and faded polaroids, there was a page filled with pictures where Mason and you, both still little children, intertwined in laughter playing in the park.

Your mom pinched your cheek. —Someday you will realize that everything you did was not in vain, on the contrary, it was all worth it. —She stopped to take a breath. —Because golden loves are like that. They stay with you forever.

—How beautiful, mom. —You ironized. She laughed.

—It will, darling... Come here. —And then you hugged her. You hugged her with all your might as you felt her warmth on your face. She giggled, breaking the embrace.

—You'll need a spell to make Mason realize what a fool he is.

—Mom!

A couple days later, you were back at Stamford Bridge once again. As you approach the stadium, you can feel the excitement building. The streets around the stadium eagerly anticipate the game ahead.

Inside the stadium, the dominant colour is blue. The stands are filled with supporters adorned in their team's jerseys, scarves, and signs that say "Pride of London".

—Call her Mason, I’m sure she's in the stands —said Ben, while putting on the new shirt they played in today. Mason held his cell phone, sitting on the bench in the large locker room.

Today was Valentine's Day and Mason had a game. Your brother told Mason he was going out on a date with his girlfriend but you would go in his place, as usual. He didn't know if you were coming, so Mason was nervous, especially with the talk you had in his car.

You had called Debbie in the morning, asking her if you should come to the game, and she told you that Mason would be more than happy to see you there. You wondered if he knew what you were up to if your brother had kept him in the loop.

Pick it up.

Pick it up.

The third tone rang while Ben tried to hold Mason, about to faint from anxiety. In the background, music was blasting from the speakers while the guys on the team began gathering in the locker room for their last talk before the game started.

Reece James leaned closer, curious why his teammate was sitting with his phone in hand, bouncing his leg nervously.

—What has got Mount that nervous? I've never seen him like this —he says to Ben, seated next to Mason, fixing his shoes.

—It's his girlfriend-

—She's not my girlfriend! —Mason interrupted Chilwell, with an expression of fear. You still haven't answered him and the fact that his friends were bothering him added to his anxiety.

—Give me that shit. —Suddenly Kai Havertz appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Mason's phone and putting the call on speaker. Everyone's attention was on the tones ringing, hoping you'll pick up. The team had witnessed your situationship since Mason had joined Chelsea, so they knew you quite well.

—Hi? Mason?

Kai, standing on the bench in the centre of the room, had the phone in his hand so everyone could hear. His eyes widened and his mouth also opened, in surprise. Everyone stood up while Mason's blood pressure went down.

With a jump, Havertz handed the cell phone to his friend so he could answer you. There was a silence between your response and his because his teammates were signalling to him, guiding him in his response.

—Yes? —That was the only thing he could think of at that moment.

—You... you've just called me minutes before your game. Is everything okay? Do you need something? —For you, it was strange that Mason called you, especially right before his game. Mason's teammates melt with your response, you seemed like a worried girlfriend.

—N-no, I was calling to know if you're on Stamford Bridge. —He stuttered, nervous about your answer. You smiled a bit, already seated between the blue tide of fans.

—Of course! I wouldn't miss a game for anything Mase. —And that was the end of him. He said goodbye saying that he had to go out and play and hoped you liked the game, while all his friends were shouting acknowledging that probably by the end of the year, they would have a new addition on their team.

The match ended with Chelsea winning by two goals and the assistance of Mason. You couldn't be more proud of him and after the exhilarating victory at Stamford Bridge, you made your way to the cooldown room, where players and staff often gather to unwind after the match.

As you entered, you spotted Mason, the hero of the game with his crucial assist. A sense of pride swelled within you as you approached him. He was putting something in his backpack, distracted.

—Incredible game out there, —you said, startling Mason. He turned with a smile, recognizing your voice without seeing your face.

—Thanks, this means a lot to me... —Mason replied, his face beaming with satisfaction. You both exchanged a few more words about the match, sharing our favourite moments and the atmosphere at the stadium. Then, out of the blue, Mason's tone turned slightly more serious.

—You know... —he said, pausing for a moment. —I've been thinking. We've been through so much together, your support has meant a lot to me.

You nodded, feeling a sense of tenderness with him. Mason took a deep breath before continuing. —Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner later. Just to say thanks for always being there, you know?

Surprised by the unexpected invitation, you couldn't help but smile. —I'd be honoured to join you. —You said, laughing out of nervousness.

A couple hours later, Mason kept his hand on your lower back as he led you through the restaurant, your body settled into his side. His hand slid around your waist while opening the door, a shiver already wracking your body. You gasped at the white snow starting to lay outside, thick flakes slowly falling from the sky.

—Look there! Mase, it's snowing! —You tugged a little on Mason's hand on your waist, the heat replacing the cold feeling on your fingers. There was already a pretty thick layer on the ground and you wondered briefly how long it had been snowing. —It's so pretty.

Mason watched your smile widen when he was paying the bill, as you tilted your head back, eyes squinting as the flakes cascaded down. He'd never seen anyone get so excited over snow.

You looked so good under the twinkling lights, the candle in the middle of the table illuminating half of your face. He was having an amazing time, already realizing he mad in love with you.

From the way you keep your hair in a messy ponytail to the way you are surprised by the snow. Everything about you was perfect for him.

—Do you want to go for a walk before I take you home? —He slid his hand over your jaw, his thumb stroking away the little flake on your cheek. You gave a small nod, flushed since all of this was new for you. He grinned before stepping back and holding his hand out to you.

—M'lady?

You looped your arm through his and the two of you started off down the street, his gaze darting between you and the falling snow. You snuggle as close as possible to him to steal some of his natural body heat.

Snow was falling and settling into Mason’s hair, individual flakes dropping onto his eyelashes and you were certain he’d never looked prettier.

—Remember the time I tried to sneak out and you caught me? That time I was actually grounded for fighting with my brother and I wanted to buy the new console game you were so interested in. —You said, recalling those silly things.

He didn't know if his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold or from what you'd just said.

—But that game was so expensive!

—I know! I just wanted to give you something for your birthday. That's why I didn't have any presents for you at your birthday party.

Mason caught your gaze, head cocking curiously at the sudden shy look that had taken over your features. You let your eyes wander from him to the snow-filled street around you. You slowed to a stop, right against the barriers of the little lake and you leant against it, the two of you facing each other, your hand still clasped in his.

All you wanted was to grab him and kiss him, you didn’t care who saw or if you got a cold, you just wanted to kiss him in the snow.

After a silence, he said: —You know I want you, right?

You looked at him. Surprised. Self-conscious Scared. But above all, in love.

—I've been thinking and I can't help falling for you now. I’m not jealous because you have other people in your life, I’m not a fucking kid. That time with Phil, at the party, made me realize that I want you with me... By my side. I want to be the one you say 'I love you' to, I want to be the one that cuddles you, that-

You interrupted him. —Mase, I… I don’t know how to say this… —Voice uncertain as you watched for his reaction, for any flicker of emotion that stated he didn't want that.

His face fell, and he retracted his hands from the barriers that before were trapping you between his body and the barriers. Ready for rejection, he looked into your eyes.

—I… I like you too. —You looked down, feigning sadness. When you looked up, he was squinting at you. —I don't know how are you convincing my brother you're good enough for me...

—I'd probably invite him to one of my games and we could go for dinner after the game? I'll book somewhere for us. —You matched his smile with a nod, shoulders relaxing slightly after the confession as you pulled your hand from his so you could settle your arms around his neck instead.

—Sounds amazing. Deep inside he's a West Ham fan, y'know. — Mason's face contorted a little when he bumped his nose against yours, lips lightly brushing together.

—Oh shut up, —he muttered into your lips, —let me kiss you.

And you obeyed, your hands resting nervously at his neck as he ravished you, his tongue begging for entrance. You allowed it, moaning into his lips as they intertwined perfectly. His hands travelled from your hair to your waist where he pushed you closer to him.

You indeed had waited your whole life for this.

[arttsuka]

have Jedidiah and Octavius watch brokeback mountain on Larry’s phone

Sorry anon, but my headcanon is that Jedediah watches it alone for some reason (maybe Octavius was busy that night with something else) and he starts questioning his whole existence.

Internalized homophobia am I right? (Also Jed is definitely the kind of person who thinks like 'this isn't all that bad except from when I'm doing it, then it's the worst thing ever). Anyway, I think it's way more difficult to actually think about your feelings than just have them. It can be scary too, putting a proper name on a situation.

Then he just kinda dissappears for a few weeks, no one knows where he is. He doesn't say anything to anyone but even when he gets back he kinda avoids everyone.

He vents to Larry without giving him any context.

Octavius just blames Larry. It was something on the phone that made Jedediah upset, so naturally it must be Larry's fault.

They make up in the end but I don't know if they talk about what actually happened. Maybe Octavius watches brokeback mountain too and he understands idk

A little sequel to this here

[yanderederee]

hi hii, just saw your new event and- wow✨

wanted to ask if i may join in with ran and rindou :3

Thank you so so much for participating and requesting for this event lovelies!!♡ (sorry if my inbox status is hard to read;-;) ! I really hope you enjoy my headcanons!!♡

yandere mbti event page : here!

Ran Haitani - CAML

Cruel:Aware:Manipulative:Lenient

Ran can sometimes teeter between being reverent and Cruel, but more times than not, I believe Ran is often harsh.

Loves to praise his darling and spoil them rotten, but Ran is sadistic, his heart just pounds watching his dalring cry♡

Not cruel like Hanma; Ran is Cruel in the way that he likes when things make you mad or teasing you too far. He tries not to be the reviving end of your wrath for sake of wanting to be on your good side… but it does turn him on a little.

You’re just so cute when you scream at him for flipping your skirt up to “check what his lucky color for the day is”. (Any other oho asa horoscope followers?)

Always makes up with you for his cruel deeds by doing more kind acts. Again, he teeters reverent in the way he praises everything about you, has your back in every decision you make and fulfills your every wish no matter who what’s at stake.

Ran’s hyper-aware of little changes that go on behind your expressions. Ran can read you like a preschool book. There’s no point in hiding anything from him; because he will point out your lies and force you into telling him everything anyway.

Also isn’t one who likes to falsify who you are, or how you feel about him. He’s quite charismatic anyway, so as long as long as he’s careful, he doesn’t need to worry too much. He’s confident in being able to make you fall in love with him with personality and looks alone.

Ran has never considered his actions as wrong. Or, he does, but doesn’t care. He hurts people everyday for any minor fault he deems worthy.

So when he reasons that he will do anything to protect you? Hurting, killing, dismembering, or mutilating—nothing is beyond unreasonable, for your sake.

Ran is manipulative as hell.

To circle back, Ran would rather stay on your good side, if possible. He’s not beyond being honest with you about his delinquencies, but Ran likes lying about the truth.

Ran likes to lie and tease you. “You saw someone outside your window last night? It was probably just a shadow playing a trick on you~.” It Definitely wasn’t him. “You’re so cute when you’re delirious~ maybe I should come over and watch you sleep, just in case… fufu, I’m kidding doll.”

Similarly to how he wants to be on your good side, Ran will be choosingly Lenient with you.

Loves the idea of you ribboned and cuffed to his room with only a cute piece of lingerie on at all times—- but he decides that can wait for worse case scenario. He’d rather you live youthful and fully, experiencing days challenges with him by your side.

* If you start getting too close to realizing his obsessive craze for you, he gets pretty harsh with his gaslighting. So what if you caught some guy with braids in an ally beating your coworker to death after your shift? You couldn’t prove it was him, because it wasn’t him. You understand how mean it is to blame someone for murder right? So stop looking at him like he was some damn ghost.

* But if the cat’s out of the bag, it’s out. If he ever becomes discovered, I can see him changing into CAHS personality type. Forced to become honest, and restricting you into become more akin to a pet than a person. He would like to delay this change as far as he can, but that’s entirely dependent on you.

Rindou Haitani - RAHS

Reverent:Aware:Honest:Strict

Rindou HATES being mean to his darling!! When Rindou falls in love, his whole heart is in it. When you make an appearance in his life and inevitably change his way of thinking, Rindou is absorbed with being loved by you.

Similar to Baji in the way his Reverence is less like worshipping and more like protecting. Rindou thinks you’re perfect; that you can do no wrong, and redeemable in all things, including hurting him.

Rindou may have a few daydream-delusions of his darling falling for him like a princess would to her knight in shining armor, wishing you would look at him like he hung the stars, and crave him the same way he craves you.

But he acknowledges reality, and realizes he has to be genuinely careful in approaching you in order for that to happen. Rindou is perceptive and aware of your genuine emotions and thoughts of him.

With a reputation like his, he knows you might have some concerns with being around him. So, he actively makes an effort in showing you who he is.

Rindou likes being genuine with you. As his darling, he feels you may be able to truly understand him, if you’re given the chance…

So, Rindou finds being manipulative rather difficult. He’ll honestly own up to his poor behaviors, and ask for your forgiveness. Now, this can obviously depend on the behavior in question, but Rindou is careful enough to hold himself back while in your company, or with what behaviors reach your ears.

Also likes to keep the image you see of him in a positive light. He might not be perfect, but he was real with you and made you feel genuinely safe.

Now.. hear me out. Rindou is most Strict than he likes to believe. He’s not overbearing like locking you up and keeping you to himself.

But he does gift you cute pieces of jewelry often. They’re always so cute, you end up always wearing at least one or multiple of the Tracking Device imbedded accessories.

He knows your every move. Your every calorie intake. Your every breath is being recorded. It’s all for your safety, of course.

Is very particular with who you spend your time with or who you speak to. Is the type to secretly beat the shit out of Anyone he doesn’t recognize who talks to you too long, takes up too much of your time, or acts remotely unpleasant towards you.

Rindou is less thrilled by the idea of locking you away, if only because he knows the action will make you dislike him. And all Rindou ever wants is to feel loved by you…

[dapperapple]

Mike's crush on El does not necessarily contradict him being gay rather than bi

I wanna start off by clarifying that if you see Mike Wheeler as bisexual rather than gay, THAT'S 1000% VALID don't let anyone take that from you babe

this is just my perspective as a lesbian who thought she was definitely straight until the end of 10th grade (age 16, a bit older than Mike and Will are in canon)

I was rewatching a lot of scenes from the show, mainly s2 and s3, to see if I thought that Mike's feelings for El came across as weird/forced or if their relationship felt off

and honestly it left me (a Byler shipper) pretty confused at first

because YES there are a lot of odd things about his feelings and their relationship

BUT ALSO

there are a few moments that are so cute and feel so genuine I didn't know what to do with them for a sec

mainly all the scenes where they're together at the Snowball dance

because that shit seems real to me, it's cute as fuck, that is a Mileven win right there if there ever was one

and honestly, the forehead touch when she and the Byers are about to leave, and again when they reunite in s4

dude that shit is so sweet okay

(Mileven shippers are valid even if I disagree with it for the narrative)

ANYWAYS here's where my personal experience comes in to help out with my confusion over this

Mike in s1 feels the most obviously comp-het to me

because I had a big crush on a boy in kindergarten, another in gr2/3

I didn't even know what gay people were, I knew girls liked boys, so if a boy was my friendly, and nice to me instead of mean, I probably would've liked him or thought I liked him

Mike in seasons 2-4 reminds me of myself in gr7/8

the most intense crush I had on a guy was in gr7/8

I was more used to being friendly with guys at this point but this guy was becoming a close friend of mine

a cute confident guy who was nice, funny, and taking an active interest in me as a person was like wooaahh

I really do believe that Mike unintenionally idolized El, putting her up on this pedestal, with his self esteem all wrapped up in her liking him back

but I also don't think that's his fault, when you're young you don't know any better

the pressure to date starts to increase a bit, and low self esteem is kicking your ass

I did the exact same thing with the guy I liked, I had this whole other version of him in my head and I started liking him less and less the more he didn't act like that ideal

(insert Mike's behavior towards El after she assaulted Angela)

even after I figured out that the kind of person and the kind of connection I wanted in a relationship was something I was far more likely to find with a girl, I still thought I was straight, so it just made me kind of sad

like- I had resigned myself to the fact that I would struggle to find a guy that I TRULY liked

maybe it was lingering internalized homophobia, idk, I had lots of gay friends, but I just hadn't felt that way about any girl at all before, I didn't think I was capable of being attracted to girls

and then there was her

we became very close friends, she was such a kind person, so fucking funny, an incredibly skilled artist, and absolutely gorgeous

and it finally clicked

finally my mind registered the fact that I COULD be attracted to girls

I still consider her my first love

and then there was no turning back

WHICH IS WHY

I wouldn't be surprised AT ALL if it takes Will coming out to Mike/the party in order for him to consider Will romantically

not because he isn't already in love with him subconsciously

but because I don't think he has registered it as a possibility for EITHER of them

moral of the story:

COMPULSIVE HETEROSEXUALITY IS REAL GUYS AND IT CAN FEEL MORE REAL THAN YOU'D EXPECT

especially since when you're young, the differences between boys and girls (both physically and how we're socialized) are much less apparent

MIKE WHEELER I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE (because me too!!)

[wordsarelife]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: mistakes can happen but this one might cost them a record deal, so they definitely needs some help from you

warnings: cursing, unsafe driving, someone gets hurt, let me know if i missed any!

notes: mattheo and enzo are brothers in this story, i just decided hehe. (they both keep their respective name, they’re step brothers, since childhood so they are practically real brothers anyway lol)

let me know if you’ve enjoyed this part :))

previous part | masterlist | next part

"you're so funny, enz" april was laying belly down on your bed, while she was busy giggling into her phone. enzo had asked her if she still had the same number she had in middle school and promptly followed her confirmation with the question if she would be free to call after school.

april had agreed before she remembered that she was going to your place. but, because you were a good friend, you had told her that it was no problem.

now she was laying on your bed talking to enzo, who, you were pretty sure, was at theo's.

you now regreted telling her that it wouldn't be a problem, considering they had been talking for the last hour or so.

you sighed, deeply, before you decided that there was only one way to get your friend back. you took the blog from your desk and scribbled the words down, before you hung it in your window.

as if he had waited for you to write something, theo stood in front of the window and read your message.

do something you had written, featuring at least 7 exclamation marks.

theo looked at you as if you had gone crazy. why should i do anything to help you?

because i bet enzo is just as annoying, isn't he?

theo only spotted a face that made an answer from him unnecessary. he just nodded and walked away.

"oh, already?" you could hear april ask behind you "no, it's fine. i get it, i'll be waiting" and with that she ended the call.

"i'll be waiting?" you asked, with a quirked brow.

"that was embarrassing wasn't it? i should've just said bye like a normal person"

"well, you're not a normal person" you smiled "and i don't think that you could do anything to make him leave you alone at this point"

"you really think so?"

"of course i do, april" you sat down beside her "why did he have to leave so suddenly?" you tried to not sound suspicious, but you were really curious what theo had done to get enzo off his very important call. luckily, april hadn't even noticed what you had been doing.

"band practice" she shrugged "theo is a strict boss"

"i bet" you mumbled while your eyes were still fixated on the piece of paper in his window. why should i do anything to help you? catapulting you right back to the night a year ago. you shuddered at the thought of it and tried to ban it from your head as fast as possible. theo was a constant reminder of your mistakes and maybe it wasn't him you hated but the realization of fault that hit you anytime your eyes fell on him.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

the garage was filled with thick air that had been warmed all day as the sun beamed down tremendously. theo rubbed the sweat off his forehead as he sat his bag down inside.

enzo walked to the couch to open his guitar case. he halted in his motion and the rest of his friends perked up at his lack of movement.

"no, enzo" blaise muttered "not again, come on"

"it did not do it on purpose" enzo turned around to face his friends and theo looked around his body to confirm what he basically already knew.

"where's your head at?" draco's tone matched the annoyance that was bubbling in theo's chest.

"is that a serious question?" matt laughed "it's deep under april's skirt"

"matt" enzo sighed as he rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

"april hart?" blaise asked "the one you've had a crush on since she moved here in first grade?" enzo nodded and blaise laughed "that's what i call consistancy, mate"

enzo would've probably laughed if it weren't for the bitter look the bands' leader was still spotting. "are you angry?"

theo sighed. "it's the third time you forgot it, enz"

"i know, i'm sorry, theo" enzo brushed a hand through his hair, before he turned in draco's direction “can i lend your car and get it, please? i won't take long"

"are you kidding me?" draco asked humourless "my mother is gonna kill me if something happens to that car. i'll drive"

"i'll come with ya" mattheo stood up from the couch.

"why don't we just all go?" theo asked sarcastically.

"yeah, why not?" blaise smiled, not catching that theo was just making a joke.

"no, i meant-" the group was already walking out to the car and theo just accepted his fate. "why not" he mumbled before he got in the back seat.

enzo was sitting in the middle of him and blaise, while mattheo had been able to plant his arse on the passenger seat next to draco, who was already setting the car back.

"it's so silent" mattheo mumbled "why don't we listen to some good music" he grabbed a cd from his pocket and just a second after, the loud drums and guitar of blood//water, the first song on cursed legacy's debut album floated through the car.

the boys broke into cheering. "you made a cd?" draco asked smiling, while mattheo nodded proudly.

"old school" enzo grinned, but clapped mattheo's shoulder nonetheless.

"hey" draco said harshly "you stay back there" he pushed enzo back into his seat. "i told you guys to hold him" he looked into the mirror and found theo's eyes, who looked not entirely happy, but did as he was told.

the seatbelt of the middle seat in draco's mums car had been broken for a while. she had originally forbidden them from riding in the car with five people, but draco tended to ignore her rule, even if he normally was quite fussy about anything happening to the car, banning drinks and food completely. but theo's car was still getting fixed by his uncle, so it was their only option.

"while we're on the topic of the band" blaise said "did you call that guy back? the one from the record label?" he asked theo.

theo smiled "i did, yeah. thats what i originally wanted to talk to you all about, but enzo was busy talking to the demon's bestie"

"demon is a rather harsh word" draco muttered.

"aren't you guys a bit too old to upkeep that childish feud?" mattheo asked. "you used to tell her everything and now you're not even saying a word about the record label thing"

"i really thought you guys would go back to normal after everything with leo" enzo added and all heads turned to him.

"i told you not to mention him" theo said angrily and enzo slumped down in his seat.

"it's been a year, mate" draco’s eyes found theo's in the mirror.

"it doesn't matter" theo shook his head, before he abruptly changed the topic. "he wants to see us, as the preact of some band in six weeks"

"the record guy? really?" mattheo perked up "thats like super soon"

"he seemed really excited" theo shrugged "this could be our chance guys. we get that deal and in less than a year we're off to america or tokyo and probably recording our second album, while already writing the third"

"as long as our little shakespeare keeps working that won't be a problem" blaise ruffled theo's hair, his hands letting go of enzo, while theo was busy slapping his friends hands away, hence why he also let go of the younger boy in the middle.

"hey! what did i tell you?" draco full on turned around in his seat.

the next three seconds happened all at once. mattheo was the first who screamed. it had taken draco less than a second of not looking to effectively drive off the street and in the direction of the nearest tree. draco turned around alarmed, swerving the car to the side, luckily not driving frontal into the tree. he stopped the car at the same time, what would've been fine, if blaise and theo had held on to enzo again, or if his seatbelt had simply been working.

he went flying trough the car, mattheo's arm darting to the side, to stop enzo flying through the car's windshield. sadly, his force wasn't enough and enzo still hit the dashboard quite hard, but at least he stayed inside the car.

"ow" enzo cried, holding his arm.

"shit, shit, shit" draco muttered under his breath. "is anyone hurt? are you all fine?" his voice broke.

"blaise and i are fine" theo said quickly to calm his friend "but enzo.." all eyes turned to enzo who was laying in the middle of the car, between mattheo and draco, who was staring down at him wide-eyed.

mattheo excused himself to call an ambulance.

"this is all my fault" draco brushed a few tears away from his cheeks "i should've just given him the car, or gotten the guitar on my own, i should've never-" he was interrupted by theo.

"it isn't your fault, draco" he assured "blaise and i let go of enzo in the first place, it was our job to keep him safe and we got distracted"

"i shouldn't have screamed at you like that" draco put his head on the steering wheel, trying to hide the stress on his face.

"theo is right, mate" blaise added "it's on us"

it seemed like draco wasn't even hearing him. "i will probably lose my license"

"you won't" enzo muttered through clenched teeth "we'll say there was a deer"

"i'm so sorry, enz" draco excused, it seemed like he only remembered now that enzo was still laying in the middle, holding his arm. "does it hurt badly? i actually don't care about the license, they can take it, as long as you're fine"

"i think my arm is broken" enzo held up his right arm, which was bloody and looked like it wasn't supposed to be formed the way it was right now.

"shit, enz" draco rubbed a hand through his face, before he quickly opened the door and threw up on the floor.

"the ambulence will be here in ten minutes" mattheo said, as he poked his head through the door. "what is he doing?" he wondered once his eyes fell on draco, who was still hanging half out of the car.

"puking" enzo, blaise and theo chorused.

"gross" mattheo shuddered, before he opened the backdoor of the car. "you guys should come outside, so the medical team can assist enzo better. we shouldn't move him"

"yeah" theo nodded, while he pushed blaise out of the car.

“why did i have to come with you again?” you were walking from the parking spot to the entry of the hospital.

“because someone had to drive the car” april pointed to the phone in her hand, which she had used to try and call enzo the entire way here. her hadn’t picked up so she insisted on visiting him, but not without a few different sorts of chocolate (she wasn’t sure which he liked) and flowers.

“yeah i get that, totally” you rolled your eyes, so that she wouldn’t see “but do i really have to come inside?”

“i need moral support”

“you’re not the one who broke his arm”

“enzo might be happy to see more than one friendly face”

“it’s not like he’s laying on his death bed, april” you nudged her arm “i’m sure he comes home today, we could’ve just gone to his house tomorrow”

“i want to see him”

“okay, fine” you groaned, but followed her inside, where she was already leaning half over the receptionists desk.

“how can i help you?” the lady was rather unimpressed by april’s eagerness.

“we’re here to see enzo, ehh lorenzo berkshire” she quickly corrected.

the woman raised her eyebrows, before she started tapping words into her computer.

“pixie?” a voice called and your head turned to the side. you tried many times not to react to the name, but you sometimes couldn’t help it. theo had been consistent for the last ten years so it was in your nature.

“mattheo” you greeted.

the dark haired boy was holding two cups of what looked like coffee. “they belong to me” he told the lady at the reception. “i’m lorenzo’s brother, i came with the ambulance, you remember?” he waited for some kind of confirmation, but she was already busy with something else, easily going back to ignoring you.

mattheo made a gesture for you to follow him down the hall. “pretty unfortunate, heh?” he grinned awkwardly.

“it’s horrible” april declared “i mean how is he supposed to play? he told me something about a record deal that you guys might get”

“yeah” mattheo looked to the ground, before he changed the topic. “he will be so happy to see you” he smiled at april and april mirrored his expression.

mattheo halted in front of a door. “could one of you..?” he trailed off, as he looked down at the cups in his hands.

“oh of course” april said quickly.

“i should maybe stay outside” you held the flowers and the chocolate in april’s direction, who raised her eyebrows.

“are you kidding?” mattheo laughed unimpressed “of course you’re coming inside. enzo will be ecstatic to see you both”

“her? sure, but me?” you asked unsurely “also, theo is probably in there, so i don’t-“

“he will behave himself” mattheo promised “come on, pixie”

you send him a look. mattheo knew about the nickname as long as it existed and he would only call you that sometimes. theo used it to make fun of you, but when mattheo said it, he meant it in a friendly way. you all had grown up together, naturally as you lived so close and in a small town. for mattheo, pixie was not in insult, but the last bit of proof that you had been friends once. after theo and you had fallen out, you had automatically fallen out with all the boys.

sometimes it hurt you to remember. remember how you and mattheo had spent hours listening to sherlock holmes and climbing trees. or how you had helped draco to read as he was having problems, days when you were washing gum out of blaise’s hair and taught enzo to tie his shoelaces. and theo, theo had always been where you were, he was never far. and everything had slipped away in a single night.

but it was too late to make amends. mattheo knew that as good as you. maybe you all could stop fighting, but go back to normal? probably never.

“hey” enzo raised both his arms when he noticed april and you walk in behind mattheo. “ow” he muttered.

blaise and draco were sitting on chairs on either side of enzo’s bed. theo was standing a bit away from the rest of his friends, leaning against the window.

“what is she doing here?” theo stepped forward when his eyes fell on you.

“hey, don’t talk to my guest that way” enzo pushed theo back, so he was leaning against the window again.

“april needed some help carrying all this” you opened your arms, displaying the different sorts of chocolate and flowers.

“how are you feeling?” april asked, slowly touching enzo’s cheek. “does it still hurt?”

you could practically see the flip switch in enzo’s head, as he realized how much she cared.

“a bit” he said dramatically and his voice dropped a whole octave. “but i think i’ll live”

you exchanged a look with mattheo, who raised his eyebrows at his little brothers dramatics.

“how long do you have to wear the cast?” you asked, while you put the chocolate down on the night stand. blaise immediately took one of them.

“hey that’s for me!” enzo protested.

“we need emotional leverage” blaise rolled his eyes, before he unpacked the chocolate and bit a whole piece off. he then held it in draco’s direction, who took it and started nibbling on it like a mouse.

enzo sighed before he looked back at you “between four and twelve weeks”

“shit” april deadpanned “what about the record deal?”

“okay, are you guys really getting one or are all of you in on a bit i don’t know about?” you wondered. there had been a few too many mentions of a possible record deal.

“no” mattheo shook his head smiling “there’s this guy from the label and he wanted to see us at the preact for a band who plays in the concert hall outside the town in six weeks”

“we can forget about that now” draco whined.

“that’s shit” you looked down “i’m sorry, that’s really awful”

“don’t act like you’re not making internal jumps of joy” theo spoke for the first time since you had entered. “you hated the band from the minute we..” he paused and cleared his throat, before he added “continued”

“you really think i’m that big of an asshole?”

“come on, theo” blaise added “don’t be like this now”

“it must be the first point on that little to do list of yours, huh? what do you want to hear? you were right? we’ll never get famous”

“shut up” you shook your head at him.

“stop fucking lying about the way you feel about my band”

“mate” draco tried to push theo back, who was walking closer to you.

april and enzo were exchanging worried glances as they noticed the tears building up in your eyes.

“theo” mattheo stepped next to his friend, laying a hand on his chest, to hopefully calm him down.

“why did you even come here?”

“i’m only here because of april and enzo” you said between clenched teeth “now stop acting like i’m here to laugh about your misery”

“the band could’ve made it big”

“i know” you simply said.

the others were following the discussion between you attentively, turning their heads, like a tennis match, from side to side, whenever one of you spoke.

“my band could’ve made it big”

you looked up at theo with teary eyes, before you nodded, once, finally. then you turned to look at april. “i’ll walk home” you turned to enzo “get well soon, enzo”

“thank you” enzo replied breathless.

you send one last look in theo’s direction, who gulped as he saw the tears flowing over your cheeks, before you left the room.

“what?” theo asked as he turned around and noticed the angry looks of his friends.

“was that really necessary?” mattheo sighed. “she came here because of enzo, knowing well that you would be here. she wanted to wait outside and i convinced and even told her that you would behave this time”

“you really are mentally seven aren’t you?” blaise asked and theo felt bad that he made your visit to enzo all about himself.

“you know how i feel about seeing her”

“how could we not?” draco muttered “you make it clear over and over again”

“it doesn’t matter anyway, the record deal is through and we can just stop being a band now” theo sank to his knees.

april and enzo exchanged a look, before enzo cleared his throat. “technically you just need a stand in for me”

“what?” theo looked up.

“it’s not over, theo” enzo said “you just need to find someone who can play the parts, or at least learn them in six weeks and after my arm is alright i can come back”

“he’s not wrong” blaise nodded “we just need to bag that deal and the rest is not important right now”

“okay, who?” theo deadpanned “you’re incredible on the guitar, who could we possibly find to be just as good?”

“you know that there is someone who was better” enzo looked down in his lap. the rest of the group grew silent too.

“what has that to do with anything?” theo asked defensively.

april turned her head to look at the dark haired boy. “he taught her” she said. “everything”

“what?” theo asked, not believing what he was hearing right now. “what are you saying?”

“we’re saying that you should ask y/n” draco put it simply.

“absolutely not” theo shook his head “i’m sure we can find someone else”

“you just said that there was no one good enough to stand in for me” enzo noted “she might be our best option”

“even if he taught her” theo added “that was over a year ago, who says that she even still plays anymore?”

“she does” april muttered “she’s good, really good”

theo sighed.

“just ask her, mate” mattheo, who had mostly stayed silent, clapped a hand on his best friends shoulder. “we need this record deal”

“i know” theo sighed.

“she’s a slow walker” april pointed to the door and theo raised his eyebrows.

“go!” his friends all chorused when he did not move. he left the room.

“beg her on your knees if you have to!” mattheo called behind theo, before the door fell closed.

“do you really think she’ll help us?”

“i honestly don’t know” april shrugged “but i’m sure theo has to find a way to go even lower than just his knees if he really wants to beg her”

taglist:

@7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101

(i have problems tagging some of you, maybe check your setting and make sure you’ve allowed people to tag you!!)

leave a comment if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist!

[theamarischapter]

He's Not My Boyfriend!

CHAPTER 04; avoidance

new here? chapter 1 - previous: chapter 3

pairing: beomgyu x f!reader

w/c: 2.9k

genre: strangers to frenemies to lovers, high school au, slow burn…ish (?), fake dating (for a day)

warnings: ummm not proofread lols! idk why i even keep this here tbh i never have warnings

summary: beomgyu is inexplicably frustrated. at first he thought maybe he was crazy, but no, you're avoiding him! why? he decides to confront you.

fic below the cut! enjoy <3

You want to bash your head into the wall. The teasing has been especially bad this week; random people keep asking if you’re dating! Or, your friends will say something dumb and then someone turns their head in surprise, assuming you have a boyfriend—which you don’t. This must be some sick prank, seriously. You walk to class, shoving through the people who walk with no awareness of the people behind them. You sigh, bringing a hand to your temple to soothe the dull ache between your eyes. You scan the crowd, gaze involuntarily settling on him. Great. The last person you want to see right now—though, you’re unsure why, really. It’s not his fault that everyone’s been bugging you recently. Your ears isolate his voice, amplifying it through the loud conversation echoing throughout the halls. You blast your music, drowning out the sound. It’s always Beomgyu this, Beomgyu that, Beomgyu—

Oh god. He’s looking at you. 

Will you be late for class if you go the other way? Most definitely. Does that mean you’re going to turn back around and face him? Absolutely not. One tardy won’t kill you. Neither will a few extra steps… right? A few minutes late isn’t that bad. You ignore the smile he casts you, which turns into a frown. His wide eyes follow you as you disappear, shoulders sagging just a little before he looks away.

Maybe you’re being dramatic. It’s not like being around him will kill you—you were literally at the movies together a few days ago. Yet, somehow, your feet always move the other way before you can give it much thought. It’s only because of the gossip, though! You don’t need everyone seeing you around him. You don’t need more people to think you’re dating. Plus, you don’t want Yeji to get the wrong idea—if she wants Beomgyu, she can have him! It’d end the shipping and Beomgyu obviously likes her, anyway. He practically forgot you existed the second she came around. You have no other reason to avoid him. None at all. 

That tight, suffocating feeling in your chest means nothing. 

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

Did he do something…? Every time he sees you, you look away and walk in the other direction. When he enters a space, you’re suddenly leaving it. You got along so well a few days ago, so what the hell happened!? He was making you laugh, conversing regularly, and spending time with you willingly. And now, well, you’re back to normal…technically. You two were never friends, but still, is he wrong for thinking things would change? You even gave him your number. 

It’s not like it matters anyway. You were probably just being nice. He’s stupid for even caring so much. Things are normal. Nothing has changed—but that is exactly the problem! They should’ve changed. Or, maybe he’s misinterpreting things? God, his head hurts. Somehow, you always have a way of making him feel guilty, even when he’s done nothing. He’s gone through every minute of last weekend over and over again, and he still can’t figure out what changed between the time you got ice cream to the time you left. 

Maybe you aren’t upset at all. You could just be shy, even if that is…completely unlike you. You were fine talking to him—you’re also known for being quite outgoing. Uh, well, he can dwell on that more later! The point is, maybe you’re waiting for him to do something first. That must be it, right? You gave him your number for a reason. He might as well send a message. Just to…see what’s up.

He finds the time—or, rather, the courage—to send a message on his walk home. The leaves rustle in the breeze, sparse sunlight reflecting against his phone screen. He sighs, eyes trained on the blinking cursor, urging him to fill in the empty text box. His fingers hover over the keys. Just be casual, Beomgyu. No need to overthink this. 

‘hi’

It’s not bad. It’s just…lacking.

‘hey, u good?’

Um. That makes it sound like he did something. But also, why would he assume you’re not?

‘hey! had fun the other day. hope ur good’

Ew. Cringe. When did texting get this hard?

‘hey, how r u?’

Yeah, no. That sounds stupid in text form. 

‘did i do something’

Too direct? Yeah. Definitely.

‘hey’

Welp, whatever. He’ll be here for ages if he doesn’t just send the stupid message. So he presses send and shuts off his phone. 

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

He’s checked his phone at least ten times in the last fifteen minutes. He’s met with the same thing every time—delivered. You must be busy, or something. Or, your phone could be dead—or maybe you just forgot to respond! His stomach twists. It’s no big deal. At least, not until he sees you at school the next day. On your phone. He feels a dull pang in his chest. The message is still left on delivered, the word taunting him. 

He sits at his desk, mind far away from the world. His phone buzzes—finally. He unlocks it so fast he nearly drops it. A YouTube notification stares back at him. His eyes linger on the flashy title, grip tightening on the phone. Why does he even still have notifications on for this stupid app? He sighs, placing it back on the desk, face down this time. He’s supposed to be taking notes. Though, at this point, he’s missed half of the lecture already. He’s too busy thinking about you. 

It’s obvious now. All the little things adding up, all of the almosts. Nothing is coincidental. You didn’t miss him waving at you. You didn’t just happen to be going in the complete opposite direction to class. You didn’t just suddenly have somewhere to go when he came up to you and Kai. You didn’t suddenly change your mind about wanting a drink from the vending machine right before he walked over to use it—he heard you complaining about being thirsty during P.E. 

And, unless he somehow texted the wrong number… your phone works just fine.

Why are you avoiding him? All that awkward tension dissipated a few days ago. He felt comfortable, and you seemed to feel the same way. But, maybe the shipping is getting to you? It’s kinda annoying, yeah. But…annoying enough to ghost him? Maybe this doesn’t really count as ghosting—you have to actually have some sort of relationship for that to happen. Either way, it’s gone on long enough. If you don’t want to be his friend, just say that! He won’t be hurt—at least, he’ll pretend not to be. It’s not like you can wound his pride more than you already have, knowingly or not. He refuses to chase any longer. Especially someone he just wants to be friends with! 

He’s made up his mind. He’s never been more grateful to share a class with Yunjin, one of your closest friends. He catches her as she’s packing up her things.

“Hey, Yunjin.” He mumbles, clearing his throat. God, this is a terrible idea. Here’s one way to show the world how much you totally don’t like the girl you get shipped with! Kai will never let him hear the end of it if he finds out what he’s doing right now. She casts him a warm smile, bright eyes glimmering with curiosity as she tilts her head.

“Hey. Need something?” She zips up her bag, looking expectantly into his eyes. This is so dumb. Why’d he convince himself this was a good idea? He barely knows Yunjin, as nice as she’s being right now—she’s probably weirded out. “...Beomgyu?”

Crap. He parts his lips, floundering for some way to make his request sound less…incriminating. Ergo, he already knows she’s going to tease to no end. “Uh, it’s, well…It’s y/n.” 

The sides of his face are burning. He’s definitely giving Yunjin all of the wrong ideas. He can tell by the overly pleased smile on her face, the way she’s suddenly more interested than ever in what he has to say. “Really? What about her?”

“It’s not like that! I–I just need to talk to her.” He shifts his weight, gaze wandering through the emptying classroom as though considering an escape. He hates this. 

“Mm…so what do you need my help for? Can’t you talk to her yourself?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s enjoying this way too much. 

“Yeah, but… um. I think she’s avoiding me.” He mumbles, face getting even hotter. Especially when he glances up, only to find her smile widening. Trying to make a friend shouldn’t be this humiliating…

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” She teases, maintaining the same, wide smile. She laughs a little when Beomgyu huffs, frowning. His hands grip the hem of his sleeves.

“I don’t know, can you just—help me? Please.” He replies, exasperated. Yunjin sighs, finally taking him seriously. She throws her bag over her shoulder, shrugging.

“Okay, fine. What d’you need me to do?” She ushers him to walk, so he does, following her out of class.

“Um…just tell her to meet you after school. I’ll, uh, handle the rest.” He looks away. Yunjin is already pulling out her phone, typing out a message. Well damn, that was fast. 

“Alright, I can do that. Meet where?” She glances up, waiting for his reply. He blinks, mind blanking for a moment. He, honestly, hadn’t even thought that far. He clears his throat, going with the first thing to pop into his mind.

“Just out front. Um, and then I’ll show up, so. You don’t have to actually meet her.” He mumbles, watching as she types some more. His heart lurches. Shit. He’s really doing this.

“M’kay, done. Good luck! I hope she says yes.” She smiles teasingly, and Beomgyu doesn’t have the energy to correct whatever assumptions she’s made.

“Yeah. Thanks…” He nods, watching her disappear into the crowd of students. Well, no going back now. The hallways feel smaller, the air heavier, as he makes his way to class. He barely hears the chatter around him as he walks. What the hell is doing?

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

There you are, leaning against the wall, gaze focused on your phone. Your eyes connect with his, and for a moment it feels like all the air is being sucked from his lungs. Maybe he should’ve just taken the hint—left you alone. Would that have been better? Yeah. But he shouldn’t have to guess what you want. He shouldn’t have to read between the lines to figure out if he’s done something wrong. He’s already committed to this, and he doesn’t plan on letting you escape this time. You push off the wall, feet moving faster than your brain. Yunjin was taking forever, anyway, so you’ll just have to hope that whatever she wanted to meet you for wasn’t too important. 

He takes long strides, fingers wrapping gently around your wrist to stop you. 

“Y/N, wait—” He huffs, clearing his throat. You stare at him wide-eyed, cheeks a faint shade of pink. Well, this is great. Somehow, you hadn’t anticipated that he’d approach you so directly. His heart pounds against his ribcage, words wobbly. “Hey, um. Did you get my text? I’m worried I got the wrong number…”

His careful eyes observe you, searching for any hint of anything. Anger, disgust, hurt… You look away, pulling your wrist from his grasp. Well, this is awkward. You did, in fact, get the text message. Yesterday. You muster a smile and a painfully forced laugh. 

"Oh!" You hesitate, fingers tightening around the strap of your backpack. "Yeah. I saw it, I just…I don’t know. I guess I forgot to reply. Sorry."

“No, it’s okay!” It’s really not. You just ‘forgot,” meanwhile he was checking his phone every five minutes for a reply. He straightens, hesitating for just a moment before forcing himself to speak.  “Um—well, I was…I was just wondering if we could hang out.”

“Oh.” You hesitate. “I don’t know if—”

“There’s a cafe nearby. It’s really good!” He cuts you off, sensing the oncoming rejection through your tone of voice alone. His head perks up, eyes looking into yours. He’s grasping at straws, trying to think up something to get your attention for more than a minute. “I’ll pay.”

“Beomgyu—” You start, chest tight. There’s no real excuse to reject his offer. God, you wish he’d stop looking at you like that—wide, pleading eyes, brows pulled together like you’re important. Like you matter. You wonder how anyone could ever say no to him. Uh, wait, no—not him specifically, just…a gaze like that. 

“Please?” He asks, voice a little softer. Wow. You should probably feel embarrassed by how quickly one simple word can change your mind. Suddenly, you’re more than happy to go! Only because he’s making you feel bad…

“...Okay.” You relent, nodding with a small sigh.

The walk there is silent, but Beomgyu doesn’t dare risk scaring you off somehow. It took a lot to even convince you to come along…he doesn’t need to give you a reason to scurry away again. As for Yunjin, you felt relieved to know that she didn’t need to meet you, after all. A dainty bell jingles overhead as you enter the cafe. The space is lit with warm lights, the scent of coffee wafting through the air. Quiet music plays overhead, the sound of subdued chatter floating through the warm space. You follow him to a small table tucked in the corner, taking a seat across from him. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s staring, but you certainly do. Your heart jumps before you clear your throat, shifting in your seat and adjusting your sweater. His words itch at the back of his throat, fingers tapping against the wooden table.

“Did I do something?” He blurts out, voice cutting through the tension. Fuck. That was way too blunt. His face goes red, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I mean, like, it feels like you’re avoiding me?” 

God. He hates how pathetic he sounds. So much for trying to not scare you away.

“Um…no?” You reply, frowning a little bit. Did you make it that obvious?

“No what?” He asks, head tilting.

“Well, you didn’t do anything.” You mumble. His expression manages to make you feel guilty for withholding information. His wide, dejected gaze staring into yours. Your heart softens, and so does your voice. “But, uh…I guess—I didn’t want to fuel the rumors, y’know? So…”

So yeah, you did avoid him.

“I see.” He slumps in his seat, gaze moving down to his hands. His fingers clasp together, like he’s bracing himself. He swallows, jaw flexing.

“I mean, I didn’t think you’d…care.” You add on, hoping to see some shift in his sullen expression. Instead, it just hardens, his face going blank. Your heart aches, lips pursing. You messed up.

“I don’t.” He replies, his voice detached. He doesn’t care. Why would he?

The server finally comes by to interrupt the excruciatingly suffocating tension. One more second and you might’ve tried to merge with the chair you’re sitting in. Beomgyu keeps his eyes steady on the menu in front of him, hating the way his voice shakes as he places his order. The server walks away with a cheerful smile, a small bounce in her step as she maneuvers through the small cafe. He sighs, finding his voice again. 

“So…it’s just because of the rumors?” He asks, risking a glance up to you again. You're staring at him, a small crease between your eyebrows. You look away when his gaze meets yours, fingers pulling at your sleeves.

“I guess.” You shrug. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to lie. Not completely. Deep down, you know it’s not just the rumors. There’s something else there, too. An unfamiliar, bitter feeling brewing beneath the surface.

“You guess.” He repeats, nodding with pursed lips. You’ve managed to make things worse. Congrats!

“Well—” You attempt to backtrack, but he stops you.

“You can just tell me if you don’t want to be friends. I’m not made of glass.” His voice is cold, but you can sense the vague hurt lingering beneath the surface. It’s in his eyes. He grips the edge of the table a little too tight, his breaths uneven.

“I do, it’s just–” You try again. Still, he wants none of it.

“Y/n.” Your heart jumps at his sudden use of your name. He says it so softly, yet so firmly that it destroys all your walls at once. Your face heats up a little, gaze connecting with his.

“Yeah?” You whisper.

“I really like you—as a person.” He looks away, lips parted silently as he takes a short breath. “And, I guess…I just- I want to be friends. Am I so wrong for that? Who cares about some dumb ship name?” 

His gaze is intense, eyes shimmering, pleading with you to understand. He’s right. At the end of the day, it’s all just a stupid joke. You’re letting something so irrelevant control your life and your decision-making, when really…

“I like you too. As a person.” You finally reply, smiling softly. But even as you say it, something twists in your chest. It’s the truth—at least, part of it. The words settle awkwardly on your tongue, like they don’t quite fit.

“Then…let’s be friends. Who cares what anyone says? They’ll tease, anyway. Whether we’re friends or not.” He smiles, leaning over the table, offering his hand to you. You stare at it for a moment, briefly admiring how soft it looks—that’s not important right now.

“...Yeah. Okay.” You nod, taking his hand in yours and shaking it gently. His warmth lingers after the fact, your hand tingling as you suppress the warmth threatening to overtake your body. 

You shouldn’t be so happy over something so small. But you are. And that scares you.

taglist: @whatblop, @innies-goth-gf, @woncheecks, @ewsnup <3

a/n: she's finally here!!! i finally escaped the procrastination demons...anyways. after some revisions to my original plan for the fic and combining some chapters, im estimating about 4 more left! we'll see though. i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! thx for your patience! (>_0) ♡

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next chapter

[braindeathaoe]

Brain Death - An Oracle's End

“Welcome back, Oracle.”

Upcoming content will include but is not limited to: - Descriptions of extreme violence, gore & death - Substance Abuse (mainly consisting of alcohol)  - Parental Abuse/Neglect - Bullying/Ableism - Suicidal/Homicidal thoughts & tendencies  - Complete loss of self  - Brain Death This IF is rated 18+ and not suited for the faint of heart. The above content isn't condoned/glorified in any sense. Proceed at your own discretion.

~In continuing, I hereby acknowledge any exposure to that which I cannot handle is to the fault of none other than my own.~

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Synopsis

It is the year 2099.

Encapsulating the very definition of Utopia, the city of Paradise is revered as a shining example of North Amerikas. And in 2 hours, it'll be destroyed—alongside every soul living within its walls. For anyone else, this would've been the ending to a pretty meaningless story.

Unfortunately for you, it's only the beginning.

The universe must hold a heavy grudge, as it's decided to trap you in a never-ending loop. Reduced to an unwilling observer, all you can do is watch helplessly as everything you care about is destroyed over, and over, and over. No matter what you do. In spite of what you say.

~Regardless of what I think...~

Forever.

You are an Oracle; a cursed soul doomed to live, perish and repeat your miserable existence in an eternal limbo. Alone, forgotten, disregarded. You've witnessed the carnage countless times, explored as many avenues as humanly possible... The outcome never changes.

~It'll only get worse from here...~

Your end is fast approaching, and it doesn't look pleasant. Time is no longer on your side. Being trapped in this vacuum for as long as you have, you've started experiencing some horrifying side-effects. How many years of memories can the brain truly store?

That question may be answered soon.

S̴u̸c̵h̸ ̴a̷ ̴s̶h̴a̷m̷e̴ ̵t̶h̸a̵t̵ ̴n̷o̸b̷o̵d̵y̶ ̷w̵i̴l̴l̷ ̶b̷e̷ ̷a̷r̶o̶u̶n̷d̶ ̴t̵o̶ ̷h̷e̸a̷r̴ ̴i̷t̵.̷

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Features

Create and customize your Oracle, developing their personality through dozens of choices!

Be AFAB or AMAB—decide your gender, appearance and pronouns!

Spend your 2 hours wisely by exploring the city of Paradise, meeting new people and utilizing your knowledge of past lives.

Eat a burger! (or multiple, who cares?)

Attend a cool festival and win mediocre prizes!

Uncover lost memories, and discover their relation to the present.

Solve the mystery keeping you trapped in this loop, or try to enjoy what little time is left.

Succumb to Brain Death.

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Demo Release: Sometime 2025 (I FUCKIN HOPE)

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Author's Note

Hello!

My name is Ricey! I'm the one writing this thing.

This is a passion project that I started out of discontent. In my personal opinion, there are a lot of interactive fictions out there that share similar problems.

Whether it be deciding for you how your character feels, what they say and do, or punishing players for not having the correct stats... It all feels so hollow and sometimes even immersion breaking.

(Don't get me wrong, sometimes there are plenty of upsides to a story to justify these "flaws". But the execution can be lacking, and unsatisfying. No hate!)

The goal of this IF is to give you, my dear reader, full creative control on how your character reacts, what they do with the information provided, and MOST IMPORTANTLY! To not tell you how they're feeling. That should be up to you to decide.

Of course, there will be exceptions to this rule. Some choices will trigger what I'm calling "Emotional States". And for narration purposes there may also be times that your Oracle feels frustration over something. But I will do my best to limit that.

Anyways, I'm done yapping for now. Stay hydrated! And stay tuned!

[shutupineedtothink]

[Theory] Agatha All Along title meaning + character arc for Agatha

Back on the theory train — here’s another thing that’s bugging me. Why is the show called Agatha All Along, besides the cute allusion to the song. I know for a fact Jac Schaeffer is too clever and too good of a writer to not make it mean something more.

I’m feeling like it must tie into Agatha’s character arc for the show, so let me take you on a little hypothetical journey here.

Spoilers below the cut!

Now that I’ve rewatched those last few episodes of WandaVision, I can’t get Agatha’s flashback out of my head. Particularly her saying, practically pleading, “I can be good” and her mother replying “no, you cannot.” Like holy shit. That’s a condemnation if I ever heard one. A different kind of curse passed down by a different kind of mother.

I’m starting to wonder… what if Agatha was always this powerful, even without the Darkhold. What if she was so innately powerful, her own mother and her entire coven was afraid of her? Maybe they even suspected her of being the Scarlet Witch, and therefore capable of ending the world itself? And because she was so powerful, and every other witch around her didn’t even want to touch her much less teach her, what if she went looking for resources herself? And whether that was the actual Darkhold or something else “above her station” (… I’m not convinced she had the Darkhold yet at the time of this WV flashback scene) that only served as the indictment the other witches needed to finally attack her?

Basically where I’m going with this is… what if Agatha was raised to believe she was bad? If she was always told she was basically evil incarnate, always feared for her power, too powerful for her own good, too powerful to be good, to anyone… her own coven, her sisters, and her mother were afraid of her and shunned her… what would that core belief do to her?

Let’s also assume her coven were the first (maybe only) people she intentionally killed (and even then, in self defense). The way she looks when she takes the amulet from her mother’s body — she’s angry, but how much of that anger is directed at herself? How much of her thought, well, look, they were right. I am bad. I am evil. And there’s no turning back now. And I hate myself for it.

Except maybe, she tries. She’s constantly trying to escape this fate, this identity that was forced on her. She never joins another coven in the centuries after, not only because no one wants her and she has serious trust issues but because she doesn’t want to hurt them, intentionally or not. She doesn’t need their power, she’s already more powerful than just about any other witch. So she studies. She learns the craft. She controls her power. And she leans into the persona of Agatha the powerful evil witch, because why not? That’s what they all think of her anyway. Let her control the narrative then. She wears her reputation like armor, so that no one can betray her ever again. As Rio says, “you’re vulnerable.” And she replies, “only physically.”

Then at some point, the unthinkable happens. She meets Rio, falls in love with her, figures out who she is (not necessarily in that order) and maybe she thinks, what kind of person falls in love with death? Surely that must be even more confirmation that she’s horrible (despite the fact that Rio is not horrible, not really, and certainly not to her). But she tries not to care, and mostly she doesn’t because she’s in love.

And then she has Nicky, however that happens, and she’s absolutely terrified but he is hers, and she loves him like she never loved anyone before. And she’s determined — he will be powerful but he will never think he’s anything less than because of it. He is finally, finally something good that came from her.

And then he too, is ripped away from her, by her own lover Death, and however it happened (even though it definitely wasn’t intentional on her part), she knows it’s her fault. Because she is evil, she is horrible, and this is her fate. She is betrayed by the people she loves, and she is left behind.

But still! She can’t give him up. She can’t stop trying. And she feels the absolutely insane surge of power in Westview and inserts herself into the Scarlet Witch’s hex, when no other witch would even dare get close, because maybe with enough power, with Wanda’s power, she can remake Nicky. (“And you wanted him back.”) She can create somewhere he’ll be safe and everyone else will be safe, and she won’t cause any more damage, to anyone. Death will never find them. She can raise her son in peace. She never wanted Wanda’s power just for power’s sake, she wanted what Wanda created, but better. Her version.

And then that too, was gone. And once again, she was painted the villain.

And now? Now it seems like all the pieces of her past are coming back to haunt her all at once. A new coven of witches who seem impossible to get along with, her lover Death who she tried to escape for so long, and a boy who looks like he might be the version of her son she was trying to recreate, who seems to adore her despite everything she is and wants to learn magic more than anything else. It’s all come back around.

So maybe, through reasons and events currently unfolding, Agatha’s journey on The Road (and the show) is to realize, or at least begin to maybe believe slightly, that she’s not inherently evil. She’s not an inherently bad person, or bad luck, or horrible. It wasn’t all her fault. Nicky’s death wasn’t her fault, even if she couldn’t save him. Death is part of her journey, as it is for us all, and maybe she can learn to accept that, maybe even love the woman who carries that name again, or at least forgive her.

Maybe this boy isn’t hers, but she can care for him and teach him the magic she never got to teach her own son. There can be a coven who actually has her back, who even sees her as their leader, who knows her and accepts her for what she truly is. Extremely flawed, powerful as all fuck, snarky and sarcastic, but the real her.

Not Agatha the evil witch. Not Agatha the villain (because she never was one). Not Agatha the hero either. Just Agatha. All Along.

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Eh?? 🤷‍♀️

Now maybe in the show it’s not quite as angsty as all this, but Jac Schaeffer is writing this character too complexly and Kathryn Hahn is playing her too complexly for at least some of this not to be true. Agatha’s not just a villain. She’s not true evil. It’s only episode 4 and we basically know for a fact based on her reactions alone that Agatha did NOT sacrifice her own child for the book of the damned. And I just can’t get over the way Kathryn Hahn almost seems to be playing two characters with Agatha, the (evil) witch and the vulnerable Agatha underneath that only seems to surface for Teen and Rio, so far.

It’s fascinating, and I just want to see her get the depth of story she deserves. And we deserve, tbh.