#because being physically held be someone is impossible rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeojaa · 4 years ago

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feed me, fight me.

pairing. boxer!jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!). wc. 3.5k. beta reader. @hobi-gif, always. 💖 author note. i’m really into comfort fics rn so...

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend? (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out. It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut. It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking. It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness. It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space.

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason? When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)? How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more?

“Cut it out,” he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare. A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright. It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension.

“Cut what out?” Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye.

“What’s your problem?” How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure. All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab. He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead.

(You probably are. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth. They wear you, rather than you it. A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.”

“Shut up.” It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand. He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way.

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you? When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion. You’re just mad. Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,” you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward. He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook.

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg.

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment. It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground. By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb.

“Are you serious?” You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable. (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.) “What’s your issue?” He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation. It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love. That you hate. That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst. That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out. That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary? Unbearable? Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.” It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff. It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need. (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.) Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.

You’re tired. Too tired. Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom. It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught). You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room. He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall.

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day. He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine. Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening. Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye.

“I’m sorry.” Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash. “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.” He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom. You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy. I’ve been stressed.” Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly. You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion. “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.” Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you. You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me. A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him. Never has, likely never will. He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away. He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you. Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless. Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first. Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you. It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest. Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on. There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour. He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together. “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too. His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight. Hates it, in fact. It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly. A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you. Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook. Push too hard, he’ll leave.

“Couldn’t sleep without you.” It’s true enough. Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear. (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up. That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light. “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things. What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way. You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up. Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one. He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away. It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground. Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”

“You were pissed earlier.” There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield. You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand. “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt. “But you know I hate going to bed angry.” Of course he knows. He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out.

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing. Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does. Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next.

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain. (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)

“Don’t.”

One blink. Another. Slow and confused - deliberately so. Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move. The ring might be his domain but home is yours; it’s the one place you hold the upper hand. “What?”

“Don’t leave.” It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink. It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.

“I need to shower.”

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win.

“Just wait.” Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love. He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh. The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,” he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away. Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder. “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.” Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does. (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for. You want communication, open and honest. You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering. It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.

“Do you wanna shower?” You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together. You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different. He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream. It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair.

“Babe?”

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes. You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do. When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.

“Can you wash my hair?” An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows. He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you.

It’s a sign if there ever was one.

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands. They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits. He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes.

When was the last time you’d done this? Weeks ago? Months, maybe? You honestly can’t recall. (Not that it matters now. You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night. Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you. You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation.

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands. Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise. He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.

You’d give it every single day if you could. Had, in fact.

That’s what’d brought you here, after all.

“‘m sorry,” he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad.

“For what?”

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with. Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.

You want to be let in. Need it.

“Being out of it, I guess.” It’s a lot for him - admitting this. “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“ The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.

“Forgot about me?” You don’t mean it meanly. It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would. But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller.

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.” Maybe more than some people. Maybe less than others. “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“No, I know.”

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin. He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,” he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his. “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.”

“On us,” you correct, not at all tactful.

“On us,” he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space.

“We’re a team, you know.”

(You know he knows. You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world. That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.”

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that. He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek. “Just give me some time.” For what, you’re not sure. You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair. Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.

“Is this better?” He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own.

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else. No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands. He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven. (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.)

“Yes,” you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort. It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true. Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind.

In all the ways he can, he loves you. And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out. Not if it means more of this.

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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mego42 · 4 years ago

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Hi, since you seem more positive/excited about the triangle possibility than a fair amount of people, can you talk more about why? I fall into "the not thrilled about the possibility, but have a little hope it could result in some good moments" group and would love some more reasons to not dread it. Thanks! And love your writing and love reading your tags :)

hey anon!! i am v sorry you are not thrilled and am always happy to shriek nonsense about why i’m excited (though idk how much it will help bc the tl;dr is more or less i’m hype for a triangle bc i am an incredibly messy bench who lives for drama and if you are not a similarly messy bench, ymmv)

don’t get me wrong, i super understand the trepidation, pop culture is LITTERED with absolute shite examples of love triangles but here is an incomplete list of reasons i personally think beth and rio are the perfect kind of disaster to set up a spectacular love triangle:

the existence of a triangle implies there are FEELINGS at the various points

the use of the descriptor "romantic" applied to said triangle implies ROMANTIC feelings

i am a simple woman and my pulse has already picked up

one of my absolute most favorite things about the toxic stew that is beth and rio is how completely balls to the wall obsessed they are with having and holding each other’s attention and focus

like straight up possessive nightmare people

now imagine wedging an actual rival for one or the other’s attention between the two of them

(something we have not reeeeeally seen before, 206 withstanding and i’ll come back to that, bc lbr beth doesn’t give a fck about dean and rio’s known that for sure ever since he walked LITERALLY RIGHT PAST THE GUY to rail his wife in a public bathroom at her invitation)

(the 204 proximity point has nothing to do with this list it’s just a source of endless delight and that was enough for me to justify adding it)

where was i

mmmmm feelings, possessive nightmares, OH RIGHT

they are also nightmares in the sense that it appears to be physically impossible for them to use their words with each other unless it’s like, ripped out of them which means they’re sitting on ALL THE BAGGAGE between them and it’s just stewing and boiling and

wait, let me back up

look, i want brio sex as bad as the next person

but even more than brio sex? i want them to fight

i mean like, Fight fight

i want the kind of knockdown drag-out brawl that brings Stuff to the surface and leaves them with a bunch of nasty, ragged, pieces dragged out into the light bc lbr they’ve both done some incredibly awful things to each other

(kind of like what 213 was looking like before it all went to shit tbh)

(i’m just saying, beth saying you put it all on me with that kind of jagged, disbelieving betrayal behind it? my catnip)

(it’s up there with rio at the picnic table in 306 telling her that ship sailed when she put three slugs in him)

i live for them being raw and honest and emotional okay

IF ONLY THEY COULD BOTH DO IT AT THE SAME TIME

bc here’s the thing, for the magnitude of horrifying shit between the two of them? i (personally) think that they like it because they are so! twisted! when it comes to each other and i love that for me, specifically

like no seriously a huge part of what i love about the ship is that whole i see your monster and it looks like mine thing they’ve got going on when they let themselves and i am full on foaming at the mouth feral at the thought of them leaning into that

i’m sorry i’ve lost the thread again

wait no that was the thread

okay so basically they’re both ticking time bombs of smothered angst and rage who are absolutely incapable of being normal about each other but are also keeping all of that locked tf down and the only time we ever really see it come out is when one o them is too emotionally overwhelmed to keep their iron grip

you know what brings emotions to the surface?

TRIANGLES!!!!!!!!!!!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SEETHING MESS OF EMOTION THAT HAS THE POTENTIAL TO BRING TO THE SURFACE??????

AND HOW UTTERLY UNEQUIPPED EITHER ONE OF THEM WOULD BE TO DEAL WITH ANY OF IT????????

AND HOW SIDEWAYS IT COULD EXPLODE???????????

like don’t get me wrong there is absolutely no way it’s gonna be pretty but i didn’t get on this busted ass carnival ride expecting nice things, i am in this to feEl stuFf and nothing makes me feel stuff more than seeing the two of them feel stuff and this is perfect set up for that

you know how they say the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference?

you know what’s not indifference? big messy emotions

but okay okay okay i am icarus and the sun looms large, lets say they don’t fight, that doesn’t mean they’re not gonna feEl stuFf on their own

do you remember beth’s face in the van when rio hugged dylan??? do you?????

and what did she do after that? went out and robbed him blind and held his shit hostage until he caved in what is one of my top 10 of all of their scenes

and god, idk if we’ve really seen rio really get jealous of attention lavished on beth yet but when i think about it i want it so bad my teeth hurt

and i know i’m not alone here bc i have i think 3 jealous!rio prompts in my inbox rn

(i’m not saying i’m working on it but i’m also not not saying it)

god i just

can you imagine how much fun it could be to watch rio seethe over having to watch someone else be into beth

WHAT WOULD HE DO?????????

ESP IF HE COULDNT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT DIRECTLY BC ITS SOMEONE HE CAN’T INTERFERE WITH

oh christ and if beth responded to it??????????

oh gOD thE mESS

idk even if it doesn’t lead to a confrontation (but i feel like??? it would have to????) just the idea of the kinds of feelings they’d have to grapple with and confront within themselves is D E L I C I O U S

also, to jump back to an earlier point: brio sex

i know some people are feeling like the sexy chemistry between beth and rio is lacking this season

you know what’s great for chemistry? fuel

you know what provides great fuel? messy emotional situations that tug at intimate connections and make people feel out of control

you know what’s a messy emotional situation that tugs at intimate connections and make people feel out of control?

you probably guessed it

A TRIANGLE

(and we know that neither of them does well with feeling out of control period at all even without the intimate emotional stuff mixed in so like oh boy)

listen i am just saying given where they’re currently at with each other i cannot think of any situation more ripe for an explosive hook up than one or both of them feeling driven to reassert their claim/mark on the other

would it be nice? no, probably not

would i care? not even a little bit

(don’t you judge like any of y’all are any better than me)

look. to quote marie kondo horrifically out of context: i love mess and the mess potential in a romantic love triangle with beth and rio as two of the three points is stratospherically high.

#i hope this helps! or makes sense!#beth x rio #nbc good girls #in defense of love triangles #(a thing i never thought i'd tag tbh)#also while this is probs not a popular stance and debatably helpful #it's worth mentioning that the stakes of this are at the end of the day not very high #it's a tv show #i'm here to enjoy myself and when i stop enjoying myself i'll walk away #i'd be sad sure #but life's too short to put this much energy into something that does not spark joy #so idk remembering that makes it easier to not get that worked up #i lean into what i love and know that i can bounce if it doesn't deliver #shut up meg #anon

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years ago

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I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Four

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships

tumblr edits out my italics when i copy/paste, and its midnight on a school night, so. italics arent in the tumblr version of this chapter cuz im not manually replacing them rn :P

Warnings: Taxidermy, swearing, fights (verbally, not physically), mentions of death, sexual innuedo (thanks remus), sympathetic everyone but there is Conflict.

Word Count: 2,645

Patton had learned, in his many years of emotion-filled life, that every person interacted with others uniquely. An obvious thing to learn, maybe, but in his younger years he felt like it really wasn’t made clear enough.

When it finally hit Patton that other people didn’t feel things in just the same way he did, it came with slow disbelief. Shocked was he to learn that not only were people so vastly different inside, but that he might’ve been one of the most different of all- even with the other sides. After all, each of them had seemed to understand all their differences like it was second nature, while Patton tried to come to terms with the information.

And come to terms with it he had, throughout Thomas’ late teens to early twenties. It was just Patton’s nature to try and learn about his friends, and that didn’t change when the task got harder. If anything, he’d become furiously determined to know how to care for all his family better than anyone, even if it more than once sent him spiralling in thought.

Logan, for example, was at his best when he was around other people; calmly talking, debating, doing work in the same space, anything that amounted to time spent together. So, even when Patton didn’t know what he was going on about, he did his best to at least be someone Logan could talk at. Which must’ve have worked somehow, because Patton couldn’t even count the times anymore he’d realized it had been hours after starting a conversation with his best friend, the both of them grinning and talking and enjoying each other’s company. Color Logan understood!

Roman, an even easier case to crack, didn’t really care what kind of attention he got- as long as it was positive. Which Patton was of course happy to provide! Though Roman became easily suspicious of any signs of friendship, Patton liked to think he’d weaseled his way into being a close companion, if the amount of times Roman dragged him off on adventures was any indication. Roman, too, was a check!

Virgil had been harder to figure out; not enough support and he got nervous, too much and he’d get overwhelmed. Fine balances did not come easily to Patton, so there had been more than a little trial and error. He’d eventually landed on treating him not unlike a wild cat: to just exist in the same space and let Virgil do whatever he wanted in his own time (a method that had found resounding success!). Virgil, much as he wanted to seem mysterious, was also marked off the list of understanding.

Janus was deceptively easy to work out. He just needed someone to challenge him, all in good sport, to be friendly and frustrating at the same time. Call it environmental enrichment, but with people! Patton was more than happy to be one of those people, pushing and pulling in equal parts banter and genuine conversation. Janus, surprisingly, was clear as well.

Patton wondered if it was weird to think about it so much. He thought about all of them, and he wondered if they took time to decode him, too. Or maybe they just knew already- they saw the heart on his sleeve (or chest, as it were) and had him all figured out right then.

He liked to believe they did spend time thinking about it, though. It was nice to think he wasn’t the only one that cared enough to take the time, and he knew that they cared about him already! Even if they didn’t say it as much as he did, even if they showed it all differently, and even if sometimes it felt like they didn’t understand him…

They still cared. The hoodie around his shoulders said so. The card framed on his wall said so. The stray dog dander on his clothes said so. So long as he had that, who needed the luxury of understanding?

Patton shook his head, no, he wasn’t worrying about all them right now. Right now, there was someone else to worry about.

Remus. Remus, who always chatted on and on, but sometimes went dead quiet for no reason at all; whose expression never seemed to match his words, who laughed when he was happy and when he was angry, who yelled when he was bored and when he was overwhelmed. Remus, who threw himself around a corner for a cheap jumpscare every five minutes, limbs broken and wrapped in ragged, punk-style clothes. Who would also drape himself all the way across Patton gently and calmly, wearing something baggy and impossibly soft (but still neon as ever), talking and talking and acting like it was all perfectly normal. Remus, who Patton wasn’t even sure was officially his friend yet.

Patton wanted him to be. But there was still… something in the way. Some kind of frustrating, tense, unknowable barrier that left him on edge around the trait. If Remus could just tell him something, anything, or give him any hints at all about what Patton was supposed to make of him, then it wouldn’t be so downright impossible. But he was inscrutable, an open book written in a language Patton didn’t know.

Whenever Remus walked into the room, it was almost like nothing had even changed since his acceptance.

Speaking of-

Patton barely had time to dodge out of the way as Remus leapt onto the couch, landing in a sprawl and taking up as much space as possible. He looked out of breath, so he’d probably booked it down the hallway and stairs, too. Just as probable was him having no reason for doing so at all.

“Hello,” Patton said.

Remus, from his laid down position, arched his neck up until he was peering upside-down at Morality. He had a reserved look in his eyes, but it was obvious he was fighting not to grin.

“Guess what I did.”

Patton paused. There were… a lot of ways that could go. Most of them weird.

“Um-”

Remus made a disturbingly accurate buzzer noise, exclaiming, “Took too long!”. He flipped over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his palms, his legs draped over the arm of the couch, and rocked back and forth excitedly. “I made you something!”

The worry slipped out of Patton’s mind, replaced by curiosity. He hummed, smiling, and asked:

“Like a gift?”

Remus beamed.

“Something like that!”

As Patton laughed by response, he ran his thumb compulsively over his bead bracelet (that he hadn’t taken off even once since getting, of course).

“That’s so sweet!” he chirped, “You didn’t have to do that.”

The Duke puffed out a breath, ruffling the white section of his hair. He rolled his eyes and shifted around, pushing up until he sat upright.

“Yeah, I know. Haven’t we done this dance before, Morey?”

“Okay, okay, I know,” Patton shrugged, his expression turning sheepish, “What is it, then?”

Remus’ grin widened in that almost impossibly way of his, and something about the glint of his teeth was distinctly threatening. It probably wasn’t intentional, but Patton could never really tell, when his claws tapped impatiently against his leg and something mischievous wormed into his expression.

“Well, you have to close your eyes, first!” Remus clapped his hands together, and there that glint seemed to get brighter.

“Oh, uh-”

“It’s not gonna be my dick, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Patton yelped, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Well I wasn’t worried before you said that!”

Remus shrieked with laughter. Patton didn’t move his hands from his cheeks, a flush of discomfort starting at his ears and pricking his skin.

“You’re hilarious, but no- not this time, at least,” -Remus winked- “But just close your eyes, okay?”

Patton took a couple deep breaths, glancing up to give Remus his best approximation of a stern glare. He then let his hands drop to his lap, palms up, and squeezed his eyes shut.

There was a soft whoosh, and something small was dropped into Patton’s waiting hands. He ran the pad of his thumb over its surface, tracing something like fur. Soft, short fur, but when he pressed it was far too stiff to be a plush animal.

“Remus,” Patton felt along the object with both hands, jolting when he felt something scaly at the end, “What-”

“You can look now!”

Patton did as told, staring down at his lap.

There laid a rat.

A dead one, to be precise. A dead, taxidermized rat, posed up on its hind legs like some goofy little cartoon character. It’s eyes were impersonal glass orbs, but its skin was perfectly, horribly real.

Patton looked up, his eyes wide with disgust, to see unfiltered excitement shining on Remus’ face.

“I made it myself!” His pride echoed in the words, that grin stretching his lips looking all the more unnatural.

It was then that Patton’s body caught up with his brain, and he realized what exactly he was holding. He dropped it- all but threw it, actually- kicked it and scrambled back and anything to just get away.

The gift fell to the floor with a dull thump, toppling under the coffee table and out of sight. Patton pressed his hand against his mouth, the other one tightly fisted in his lap. He felt sick- sick enough that his brain was leagues away from rationality. Because he’d really touched- held- that corpse, that thing that used to be a cute little critter, what was now a homemade trinket of horror.

He turned his attention back to Remus, and a million thoughts and feelings rushed him. Betrayal, horror, fear- and weirdest of all was surprise.

Remus’ smile twitched, and he tipped his head from side to side.

“You dropped it,” he pointed out, “I thought you liked rats?”

The noise Patton made was something between a gasp and a cry.

“I like alive ones!” He exclaimed, pushing himself back until there was a good cushion’s distance between himself and Remus.

Remus’ smile dipped lower.

“Well, this way you don’t have to take care of it! It’s all of the cute with none of the trouble!”

“You think this is cute?!”

He couldn’t believe this was happening, after everything- he hadn’t gotten through to Remus even a little? It was all still a game for him to terrorize Patton? To shove dead things into his lap and laugh about it?

But Remus wasn’t laughing, strangely. In fact, he was very still.

“You don’t like it?”

In hindsight, Patton would look back on what he said with remorse so strong it gave him headaches. He had scores of memories like that, of course, but this one’s sting would never fade, not even long after they’d moved on from it. But in that moment of fear, of revile, he could not think about anything else but the feeling of being tricked by his almost-friend laying heavy in his stomach.

“Like it? Is this- are you joking? Remus, you made me touch a dead animal! I thought we were starting to be friends, but- oh my God, what is wrong with you?!”

Patton was sure he stopped breathing right after he said that, his voice choking out. In the silence that followed, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

Remus stood up, and everything about the way he moved showed a woundedness that didn’t suit him. He looked at Patton with an awful intensity, his ruby-red eyes practically glowing. There was nothing vulnerable about him when he was hurt, nothing at all like how Patton would respond to something like an argument. There was only anger and tension.

He didn’t smile, but his voice stayed pitchy. Gleeful.

“Everything,” Remus hissed, “I thought you’d catch on before now, but.”

Remus spun on his heel, and the floor beneath him bubbled with oil and acid and plague as he sank into the ground and out of the living room. The carpet shriveled, sick-green, in his wake.

That was when the understanding hit him. A lot like a train.

“Oh, no,” whispered Patton, “Oh, no.”

Patton struggled to his feet, as if on autopilot. Was he going to go after Remus? No, no, that definitely wouldn’t go over well. He was probably halfway into the Imagination by then, anyway, ready to take his anger out on his creations and not do any talking at all.

Patton tore his eyes away from the spot where Remus had sunk out, stumbling over to the coffee table instead. He crouched, reached his hand under it, and let his fingers touch the fur of his discarded present. He grabbed it, looked down at it. The wave of nausea when he saw the little rat was now less disgust, and much more regret.

He cradled the preserved creature in his hands with all the gentleness he could. There was a slip of thick, yellowish paper attached to it, that in all the upset had gone completely unnoticed. It was folded in half, tied with twine to the rat’s neck.

Patton looked into the rat’s shiny, empty eyes for far too long, watching his reflection be distorted by the spheres. He took a shuddering breath, then, and thumbed the edge of the paper, felt its grain, and flipped it open.

“This is Jenner. You can have him, because even if you’re a priss, if you can handle me you can handle having cool shit like this. Plus, you’re weirdly nice to me, so I guess I don’t mind being nicely weird to you.

-R (the funnier one <3)”

Patton read the note once. Twice. Three, four, maybe six times the words ran over each other in his head.

The paper slipped from his fingers. He held his rat in both hands and stared down its coffee-brown snout. Patton couldn’t help bringing the figurine to his chest and hugging it tightly, like it was the thing he’d hurt so badly, serving as surrogate. Its sharp fingers and tail poked through his shirt like needles, but he ignored it, holding the irrational hope that the inanimate object could forgive him somehow.

Jenner was creepy, that was probably intentional; his proportions and pose were so uncanny it couldn’t have been an accident. And it was so, so very Remus of a thing that Patton couldn’t stand to hate it. His shift in view was so sudden, and in some sad way he realized that the conflict had been the final piece he’d needed. What let that understanding crash into Patton’s mind, painting the picture of somebody layered.

The picture of Remus, who he was, had finally clicked into place- and at the exact worst time for it to do so.

Patton had fucked up. Massively.

He didn’t react how he thought he would when he realized it. He didn’t grow weary and exhausted, desperate to apologize and then collapse into unthinking sleep for days. Gone was the emptiness of making promises that he hoped he could hold true on, just wanting to have gotten it right the first time. No, Patton felt something burning under his skin, something itching him to take action because he’d learned from a mistake. He knew exactly what he’d done, and he was ready to do better right damn now.

Patton breathed in deep and exhaled sharp, because first…

He sunk out to his room, Jenner tucked into the crook of his elbow. He rose up at his bedside and shoved a handful of knickknacks off the nightstand. With enough space cleared, Patton set his rat down on the table and stood it up on his alarm clock, facing the bed. And then, as just a final touch, he smoothed back the fur of its head and gave it a peck on the forehead.

Now, he had some planning to do.

Chapter Five

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

#sanders sides #ts #intruality #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #platonic intruality #qpr intruality #patton #remus #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

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xlady-saya · 5 years ago

Text

I want this touch to be familiar [Ch. 2]

Relationships: andrew/neil, side aaron/katelyn

Summary: Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It’s not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil’s hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he’s forced to acknowledge how much he’s allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

Tags: first time fic, p*rn with feelings, relationship study, fluff and communication, multichapter

Read on ao3!

Andrew is a planner.

This is one thing he's not afraid to admit about himself; most events in his life have been unplanned, disastrous things which he can only try to wrangle in the moment they make themselves known. However, if he has the time and foresight, he's much more inclined to plot out every move, making sure there are no slip-ups. Minimal error.

Thinking about and minimizing the damage to himself is new, since beforehand he wouldn't bother to care. In this case, his own reactions are things he'll have to deal with in the moment, since his limit here is unknown. He's never done this with anyone.

For now, his sole focus becomes Neil.

Of course, he knows with something like this it's impossible to get it perfect. He's more experienced than Neil, despite the fact he's never been intimate with someone on his own terms; he knows how it works, knows what to expect and all the ways it can go wrong.

He knows it most likely will be uncomfortable the first time, but can he make the good outweigh that?

At the thought, Andrew grumbles to himself, shaking his head over his cup of coffee. It's been a few weeks since that initial conversation, and his head has been a balancing act of sexual tension and precaution. He's planning as if he's made up his mind, though it's the farthest thing from the truth.

But, necessary. He needs to treat this like it's real, or it'll never sink in.

And well, the sexual part of it feels very real. His overactive mind has made sure to spin the fantasy at him almost daily, and he's been powerless against it. The thought of Neil splayed out in front of him is not something he'll ever be adverse to. Lately, Andrew's libido has spiked, doubling from what is normal. If Neil knows the reason, he hasn't chosen to comment on it, and just seems happy to satisfy Andrew in whatever way he can.

A curl of warmth unfurls in his chest, and he slides his gaze over to where Neil sits on the floor, legs kicked up as he runs through his calculus homework. The gym shorts he has on slip a little, revealing odd patterns of discoloration. Andrew can only assume they're burns.

He's real, so painfully real Andrew feels the need to shield him from a threat that's not even there. Neil isn't scared of him, Andrew isn't scared of Neil. For all their hostility, they fit.

They prepare for the worst, gentleness often escapes them, and they've never minded each other's harshness.

Even still...

Silently, he pours Neil a cup of coffee into the god awful fox mug Nicky made him at Color Me Mine, the eyes sagging and crossed, and sets it beside him on the floor.

Neil’s head tilts up just enough to smile sleepily at him, and Andrew's insides twist painfully. Harshly, he pushes Neil's head down, back to his homework, and tries not to let the soft laugh cloud his thoughts anymore.

For all his severity, none of which Andrew is ashamed of, he finds himself itching to give Neil the opposite. And he does, when he thinks about it. Andrew tries his best not to roll his eyes; Neil ends up being right at the most annoying times.

Andrew wouldn't mean to hurt him, it's true. Andrew would never willingly hurt Neil these days, he simply doesn't have the capability. But intention is seldom enough for him. He'll do this right; it's the reason he's set up a plan in the first place.

Yet, plans are hard to keep together. Steps should be easy to follow, checked off.

1. Talk to Bee

2. Talk to Roland

3. Do his own research

Simple, direct; that's what Andrew thought when he put the plan into action. Bee would be able to reveal the things Andrew could not yet see, pick his brain until the maze had a map. Roland would have experience with this, he'd be able to tell Andrew what it's like when it's consensual, the do's and don'ts. From then on, Andrew should've been able to piece the puzzle together and fill in the gaps with cold, hard information. There's only so much he can do to prepare, but he'll cover all his bases.

The plan was supposed to do all that, but hiccups forever plagued Andrew's life. Bee's words were weights, necessary, still sitting with him even now. And Roland, well, that had almost gone well.

At the memory, Andrew glares. The night before, he'd gone to talk with Roland alone, no stress or obligation to keep an eye on his family while he tried to sort this out. He told Neil, wrapped around him in bed, because it's not something he felt ashamed sharing. The reasoning was another story.

And Neil, stupid, understanding Neil, hadn't even questioned it, blindly trusting Andrew to tell him later. It would be agonizing, but Andrew would do it.

Keeping things from Neil nowadays is almost like an allergy, irritating.

It should've been uneventful. At most, he expected Roland to be obnoxious about it, which he was...

"Ohoho, it's about time indeed," the bartender crowed above the loud music of the club, spilled alcohol sticking to Andrew's boot soles. He grit his teeth. Andrew tried his best not to give too much away when he asked Roland to follow him to the backrooms, but Roland's shocked face when he brought it up forced Andrew’s hand.

It wasn't like that, it wouldn't ever be like that again and Roland knew it, was probably worried something had happened with Neil to make Andrew seek out something physical.

So naturally, Andrew told him the gist of his situation, his intentions to go all the way with Neil, and Roland had run away with it in triumph. The bartender's smirk made Andrew want to turn around and walk right out of there immediately. As if sensing Andrew's need to retreat, Roland leaned closer into his personal space, never a fast learner.

Andrew doesn't know what he ever saw in him.

"Shut up and let's go," Andrew growled in the small space between them, and Roland laughed at his expense without care. Andrew had to remind himself Roland was his only direct resource, unless he wanted to ask Nicky, which he would never do.

Whatever, Andrew would not have this conversation in public.

"Alright, alright lover boy," Roland sighed, raising his hands with a wink. Andrew employed Neil's tactic for a moment, counting to ten in German. "I'm just happy for you. C'mon."

Andrew didn't bother to respond to that.

The relief that took root in Andrew's chest was short lived, so short lived he didn't even have to shove it down himself. He pushed off the counter to follow Roland through the throngs of drunk college students, the itch in his head gearing towards the information he was about to be given, when he saw her.

The one and only, Ms. I doodle my last name as Minyard in my notebooks--Katelyn.

Andrew froze; and saw the exact moment she knew she'd been caught. She was midstep, legs locked in an awkward position, but she didn't seem to be aware. It would've been satisfying, seeing Aaron's cheerleader so thrown off if it weren't for the look on her face. Andrew could see the assumptions swimming there before the idiot was probably even aware of them, her eyes, so close in color to Neil's but not the same at all, glancing between him and Roland.

For a brief moment, cruelty sparked in Andrew's veins at being read in such a way; it was foreign, this particular anger. He never cared before what people thought of him, least of all Aaron's perfect girlfriend. Andrew knew people thought he was a monster, it never mattered, because Neil didn't.

Yet, the whole reason he was there at all was to avoid hurting Neil as much as possible, so the suspicion on Katelyn's face made him want to commit murder. He might've, but then the idiot rolled her ankle, preserving the progress he'd made with Aaron over the past year and a half.

He couldn't kill her, he couldn't leave her there either.

Aaron's words echoed in his skull; 'Our feelings are the same.'

So inconvenient, so annoying, but so impossible to avoid.

Andrew remembers glancing back at Roland, knowing they wouldn't be having that talk after all, not right then. He remembers his skin crawling as he hauled Katelyn into his car, her words setting him on edge but reminding him that some people still had the capacity to surprise him.

The word 'love' tossed into the mix of mayhem.

Katelyn had put a lot of unnecessary thoughts in his head, but Andrew came back from that night clear headed, not necessarily about the sex situation, but about how he had been handling it.

Guess she isn't totally useless.

Speaking of...

"Good morning!" Katelyn sing-songs into the living area, and Neil flinches from the abruptness. The old instinct to run is hard to bury, and Andrew watches reality settle in as his muscles go slack again. Andrew misses the peace already, but he's the one who left the door open for Aaron in the first place.

Katelyn waves at Neil sheepishly for having spooked him, hopping along on her better ankle to lean against the small counter. Andrew rolls his eyes internally from how Aaron hovers, always there in case Katelyn decides to do another swan dive to the floor.

There's a pause then, one which isn't usually there. Katelyn's eyes land on Andrew and stay there, which in itself is odd. Up until this point, their understanding has been clear. Normally, Katelyn would ignore him, keep her distance. She still does, staying out of his immediate bubble. Yet, this time she offers him a genuine smile, and Andrew hopes last night hasn't given her any ideas about how things are going to be from now on. "Hi Andrew."

Ah, but looks like it has. Great.

Despite the twitch this realization causes, Andrew only hesitates momentarily before he offers her a nod, and ignores the way his brother blanches. Katelyn, thankfully, doesn't treat it as more than what it is, and carries on with whatever breakfast concoction she has in mind. A cook, she is not, and Andrew has no intention of eating it.

He feels Neil's smug smile in the corner of his eye, and dutifully ignores it in favor of watching his brother move seamlessly around his girlfriend. They touch purposefully, and often, like a dance with added steps just for the sake of staying close.

Aaron's arm slides against Katelyn's lower back, and she bites her lip, a blush rising to the tops of her ears. It's not subtle, but it's also not something anyone would bat an eye at.

Why Andrew can see the difference, he isn't sure, but it's there. There's a clinginess between them, more than usual, a product of Aaron's protectiveness and something else.

Looks like after Matt and Dan had fallen asleep, someone else in that dorm had decided to get handsy.

Andrew stuffs down his disgust at the thought; he seldom agrees with Nicky, but thinking of Aaron having any kind of sex is abhorrent, worse when it's straight.

His brother makes it seem so simple though, doesn't he?

He and his twin spent so many years being on the opposite ends of everything that their recent developments make Andrew even more painfully aware of how they're different. They're learning to share things in common without so much teeth pulling, but Andrew knows this is one area Aaron could not understand.

Andrew isn't jealous or resentful, he's just not like Aaron in that way. He's sure his brother and Katelyn had sex soon after meeting, long before it turned into something he'd risk Andrew's wrath over. He's also sure it's not something that keeps Aaron up at night, or wracks him with guilt afterwards. Watching them interact now, post intimacy, makes that clear enough. Aaron wants her and he's happy to want her, there's nothing else to it. Aaron's own insecurities are a monster, that much he knows, but they're not always in line with Andrew's.

Aaron is not afraid to want, and he trusts himself not to hurt.

This observation, coupled with his conversation with Katelyn, leaves Andrew with little room to avoid the real reason for his plan.

Realistically, Andrew knows he's been setting up roadblocks intentionally. Talk to Bee, setback, another setback, step two, back to step one, and so forth. With this process, there's essentially no way for this to not be dragged out to hell and back.

Annoyingly, he hears Renee's voice in his head, "be patient with yourself," but that's not it at all. The steps are more than just precautionary measures or even speedbumps. No, he can't try to convince himself that he put them there to pace himself, to make sure it's what he really wants.

To want, to want, to want.

That's the thing. He knows what he wants, but part of him thought that with enough time, enough pause, he wouldn't anymore. Then, he could fall back on an old habit, push it away and pretend he doesn't care about the fallout.

He'd been giving his brain ample time to ruin this for him too. To remember that wanting is dangerous, disappointing, not worth the consideration or effort. That maybe, impossibly, if he gave himself room to fortify a new wall, he'd no longer crave Neil's everything. Then, hurting him wouldn't have to be a worry at all, because he simply wouldn't care.

But alas, he's caught himself at the end of his rope, and he should know better. He's known better since Baltimore. Because even now, his head buzzing with conflict, one fact stands out as sturdy as before.

He wants Neil. In every way, every part, all the ugly, spiked edges and harsh temper. Nothing has ever sounded better and he hates it. He hates to feel like this, but he won't try to stop.

Why?

"Andrew, what you feel is normal," Bee's saccharine voice trickles through his head, words from the last two sessions when she helped him piece through all this. Or, maybe he should say she gave him the reins. Bee knows him by now, knows Andrew prefers to do most of the work once pointed in the right direction, even if it's something he hates to admit.

What I feel is normal? Yes, yes, I know Bee.

Pleasure, joy, contentment. The lack of exposure to them all for so long means he doesn't know how to process them, according to Bee. In fact, the feelings become almost intolerable.

"As such, your instinct is to lash out at or banish these feelings. They're uncomfortable, maybe even upsetting for you."

He thinks of so many repeats of 'I hate you' and 'this is nothing.' Thing is, those weren't lies. He needed Neil to be nothing, even when he knew it was impossible. He'd crossed the line into dangerous territory again, and Neil had happily jogged over next to him.

Neil's the only one who's ever followed without question.

He means it though; he hates to want. He wonders if it's because it all feels too good to be true, that if he doesn't tell himself he hates it, he'll have to finally acknowledge how good it feels.

How Neil makes him feel.

He can't accept that, not yet. But he will take a different step forward.

Katelyn prattles on about her schedule for the week, and Andrew can't hold her ramblings against her in this case. Labs and practice will keep her and Aaron apart for most of the week; Andrew used to crave the alone time, now...

With the sounds of pots and pans joining the chorus of Katelyn's chatter, Andrew walks over to Neil with intent clear. Funny, how he expected this revelation to be a lot less anticlimactic. But here they are, on a Sunday morning, the smell of burnt toast wafting through the air.

Neil looks up when Andrew sits beside him, catching whatever must be on Andrew's face and tilting his head. He's not sure how Neil does it, doesn't think to ask. Neil won't stop anyways if Andrew tells him too.

Because...

"What you value is understanding."

Yes, this is something Andrew will not be rid of anytime soon, Neil Josten will not go away. The little thrill which runs through him at the thought is not something he'd ever think he'd feel this much again. It intensifies as the days go, and everyday he loses more of the energy to stop it.

He can feel Bee smiling that damn smile, all the way from here.

Andrew digs his thumb into Neil's already open palm, waiting for his sleepy grin, and gets rid of all the roadblocks.

I want this, he repeats, and holds Neil's gaze. I want you.

He fights back the automatic recoil, and notes how it's gotten easier to do so, to overshadow his need to pull away with his need to pull closer.

"Yes," he says, and for a moment Neil is so still Andrew wonders if Katelyn's laughter ate up the small word. From how Neil's eyes soften a second later, he knows they weren't. "I don't know when, but it's a yes."

Because they've always gotten through things in the past, together.

Neil's breath hitches, and his hand curls tight around Andrew's, the touch conveying more than words can. The world is still such a dark, unforgiving place, but on this Sunday morning their dorm room has a brightness to it. Andrew shrinks away from it, but is powerless to avoid it.

Andrew thinks it might solely come from Neil, but he's wrong.

"Breakfast," Aaron calls to the room with a sigh, all too carefree and happy with Katelyn next to him. Andrew briefly wonders if Aaron ever thought he'd get to that point, and it's something they share. Disbelief.

"Okay," Neil calls back, and it has a dreamy quality to it Andrew wants so badly to stamp out like a cigarette. He doesn't though, he can't. The word carries the smile on the striker's lips, and Neil buries his face in Andrew's sleeve, content to let their food get a little cold.

Without Andrew noticing, his fingers curl just as tight around Neil's too.

One thing Andrew cannot fathom about Neil sometimes is that there's no sense of pressure.

Andrew made up his mind about going all the way that very morning, over a week ago with Neil resting his head in his lap and eventually wriggling a little too purposefully to be cute anymore. Andrew nearly snapped at Aaron and Katelyn to get lost, but then Neil would've won.

Considering how cheeky Neil looked later on, Andrew's cock in his mouth, maybe he did.

And in the afterglow, there had been...peace.

Andrew's not sure what he expected; maybe Neil's impatience, a new layer of tension in their kisses, their touches, something saying go, go, go. The rush to dive in and get things over with before the thoughts tore him in two.

But there's not. There's nothing like that; no urgency in his head or a ticking clock telling him they need to do it before it's too late. Of course, he still thinks about it constantly, how could he not? He's only a man with an (admittedly) hot...boyfriend. A Neil. A very energetic and smart-mouthed Neil.

Closing his eyes, he can picture it, his memory a blessing for once with something from just the other day.

Andrew lets his hands follow the curve of Neil's ass, feeling the smooth skin, patches of it rough from road burn and other scarring. He digs his fingers into the one spot of Neil's lower back, swallowing Neil's gasp. Like a press of a button, Neil's back bends for him.

They're only making out, just kissing, and he's like this. Andrew is okay with just keeping things like this, it feels right.

"Andrew..." Neil moans, featherlight, so unlike his usual brashness. It makes Andrew's pulse spike, and he kisses back greedily, mind swimming. Neil wants him, he makes Neil feel good...

Neil makes him feel good.

"Quiet," Andrew scolds, muffled by the urgent press of Neil's lips. It's begrudgingly amusing, how stupid Neil is. He keeps going back in for another peck, one right after the other, provoking Andrew to just pin him and push his tongue into his mouth.

"Mm," Neil hums teasingly, and Andrew feels the glide of his fingernail along the column of his neck. Andrew can't help it, he gives Neil a grunt for that, the sensitivity overwhelming.

And Neil, so infuriating, smirks.

"You first," his junkie bites back, so predictable. He punctuates the taunt with a nip to Andrew's earlobe. Then it's cloudy, no, hazy, a dream.

Except Neil has proven time and time again he's the furthest thing from a dream; so real, so warm and solid. Andrew lets himself sink into the pleasure, and in these moments he doesn't realize he's falling, that he doesn't mind it.

"Andrew..."

Neil's voice is a fog Andrew has a hard time finding his way out of sometimes, and he leans his head back on the wall by his bed while the heat pools in his gut.

Oh yes, he thinks about this a lot, and he's too fixated on the feelings to put up a fight.

But it's not even just in these moments that he wants Neil, what once was so troubling is now simply reality...

He thinks of the redhead's sleep deprived yawns, long and drawn out enough to show the slope of his jaw. Anxious nibbling on the end of a pencil when he's focused on some stupid equation. Careful hands, patching up Andrew's bloody knuckles after sparring sessions. And not so careful hands, punching the first reporter to say something even remotely negative about Andrew outside the stadium.

Neil is so dangerous, in that Andrew wants all of him.

Yet, there's never an imperativeness to have all of him, to just lock them away for the weekend and see what all the fuss is about. No, he can savor different parts of Neil in innocent ways: the concerned touches, considerate glances, and wide grins...

And in filthy ways.

The slow stretch of his spine when he's doing warm ups, those yoga pants he wears on purpose around campus, the flick of a tongue against Andrew's biceps.

And still, neither of them feel the need to cross the line into new territory yet, not for lack of want, but for lack of good timing.

Point is, since the decision, he and Neil have done plenty of other things without the underlying question of taking it all the way. It leaves Andrew's stomach buzzing for different, non-anxious reasons. The absence of pressure, of force. It's as if now that everything is out in the open, Neil's presence is both a relaxant and a stimulant, and nothing they do together is bogged down by anything other than chasing the pleasure it brings them.

Even with Roland, when they were ready to experiment further, there was no point in waiting. No pacing. Andrew was typically ready to get it out of his system for the sake of his libido, never pushing himself too far but also not patient with himself either. He'd propose the next thing he wanted to try, made sure Roland's hands were out of the way, and acted accordingly. Quickly. Andrew did not savor.

Andrew would take what he needed from the sensations and that was that; his knees on the floor of Eden's, a heavy weight on his tongue. Roland was enthusiastic, reacting well to Andrew's touches as he got more experienced with time.

As for Andrew...

Sometimes he'd like it, sometimes not, and in those cases he'd put a stop to it and he and Roland would revert to whatever was quickest to get off. Efficient, enough for Andrew to feel the spike of control, to bring another man pleasure without putting himself at risk. Exerting power over someone, and having them like it.

It had all been controlled, because Andrew needed it to be. Many of those nights blur together now; he can remember them all, he does, but pulling those times to the forefront of his mind is not something he ever chose to do. It simply didn't affect him in that way, because Roland never got below Andrew's skin.

With Neil however…

Andrew can't help but imprint every gasp and arch into his brain to never be forgotten, to be spun into daydreams so vivid it's hard to keep still. In the mornings the thoughts drip into the front of his mind, Neil pressed close to him. Then when he's watching Neil run in the gym with strong legs, and it's like he feels Neil's legs tightening around him. When he's bored in class, the sounds of Neil's moans drown out the professor as the fantasies in Andrew's head take over.

With Neil it is pure, blinding pleasure. He savors more than he thinks he should, like there's a limited supply and he's going through an army's worth everyday.

Andrew prolongs sex with Neil as much as he can. He's never allowed himself to feel this with anyone. He couldn't. For once it's not just about gaining experience or getting off, it's all that with Neil and exploring all the ways to make him fall apart.

So, Andrew still blows him in the showers after practice and ruts against him in the backseat of the Maserati. And through it all, Neil doesn't wait or expect Andrew to bring up going all the way.

He just enjoys it, enjoys being with Andrew.

"I'm still convinced I dreamed you," he spits out later that night when they're making out on the floor. Making out is putting it innocently, since it's quickly progressing into Andrew grinding his hips into Neil's.

They haven't exactly had enough alone time for this, not for a few weeks, but Andrew tames his desperation for it as best he can. He can't be that vulnerable, and yet his hips are moving on their own accord.

With Kevin visiting Wymack and Nicky off studying, they're alone. They can take their time, and they don't hesitate to take advantage.

Andrew can no longer contain the caged animal.

Neil pauses briefly to look up at Andrew, sliding one of Andrew's hands under his shirt to touch him more. Andrew shivers at the silent request, thumbing at one his nipples while Neil tries to make words.

"D--Do you want me to be a hallucination?" Neil teases, and leans up to bite Andrew's bottom lip. Andrew pinches Neil's chest beneath his fingertips, logging away the breathy moan to recall later.

"No," Andrew snaps quickly, almost against his will, and Neil's grin is so annoyingly brilliant.

They both already knew the answer. He's not sure he could handle that at this point. Neil disappearing, like a ghost with only a compliment as a goodbye.

Not again.

As if to cement this fact, Andrew bucks forward, the friction dizzying. Again, it's been a little too long, and Andrew's movements betray it.

"Fuck Andrew," Neil says, reaching for Andrew's fly. It's already undone, his belt somewhere halfway across the room due to Neil's eager hands. Andrew had told him yes, and yet Neil's hand hovers just over Andrew's groin in a silent question. Andrew growls, leading Neil's hand under the waistband until it brushes the wet head of his cock, and they moan in sync this time.

"Andrew I want...fuck," Neil throws his head back, the frustration clear. Andrew can't help but feel the same; if he could make Neil fall apart in every way he would, but for now his body craves the friction, the desperation of his movements.

This is how he wants to get off, humping Neil into the floor.

"Use your words," Andrew breathes, swiping his thumb over Neil's lips. Neil's pink tongue flicks out, coaxing Andrew's fingers into his mouth and sucking.

Neil's eyes are so full of mischief, his response clear: sure about that?

Andrew gives a slow roll of his hips as Neil pumps him slow, pulling away when he senses Andrew's patience running thin. The striker's legs spread farther apart for him, letting Andrew slot them perfectly together. Neil wants it like this too, he realizes.

A shudder runs through him, overwhelming and definitely something he'd normally lash out against. But this feels too good in the moment to resist, his clothed cock sliding perfectly against Neil's, and the thought comes barreling through as the heat coils tighter and tighter.

It's just like the last time they did this. Andrew starts thrusting faster, the phantom of the real thing while Neil's back slides against the floor. Except this time...

This time what?

He watches Neil meet each thrust just as desperately, a few whimpers escaping and mixing with the few Andrew can't help but let loose. He looks absolutely debauched, with his shorts hanging off one leg and his underwear damp. Andrew takes a snapshot, sealing this Neil away in his head forever. Hungry, insatiable, junkie.

What if this was the real thing? Would Neil arch and writhe even more? Neil always feels too good to be true, even now. He'd be warm, Andrew knows it, his ass hugging Andrew's cock, so bent on making Andrew feel good. He'd probably be more reactive too, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. The fantasy floods in, and Andrew feels his heart rate pick up as his hips buck faster, the pace erratic and wild.

And that's the difference, isn't it? This time, Andrew doesn't feel strange to think about it, to imagine it. He's free to indulge, but should he, does he want to?

His cock twitches, and that's answer enough. The small ounce of hesitation is something Neil catches, because he throws Andrew a shaky smile as a bead of sweat drips down his forehead.

"You can think about it," Neil chokes out, voice raw and oh, it's doing a lot of things to Andrew which shouldn't be allowed. "I am too. Fuck, I want you to fuck me Andrew, so bad..."

Andrew surges forward, slotting their lips together. It's hardly a kiss, his tongue pinning Neil's down in a promise he can't say.

Me too, I want all of you.

The thought is so shocking, it doesn't make him recoil instantly. Something in him bends, snaps in two, and the only pause he gives is one used to manhandle Neil. He pulls him forward, so Neil is curled up at the perfect angle. Andrew does sometimes appreciate all the cheerleading stretches Neil borrows from Katelyn, he's so much more flexible now.

"Neil," Andrew breathes when he pulls back from Neil's lips, just his name. Neil's eyes widen, and Andrew wonders what kind of look he's wearing again. Can Neil see it all, how much Andrew really wants to rail Neil into the nearest surface?

It doesn't matter, his next movements make it obvious.

Andrew's hips piston forward until Neil is shaking apart, his orgasm pulling out a whine Andrew knows the neighbors can hear. He can't be bothered with it now, the unusual greediness he feels when it comes to Neil is second to his own rising pleasure. So close, so close--

Neil reaches up, boneless, and hums almost deliriously. Fixated, Andrew's eyes never leave the ring of blue in his eyes. Neil's fingers tap on Andrew's neck, right at the pulse. "C'mon, come for me."

Andrew does, it's obscene how fast he does. The words aren't even all the way out of Neil's mouth and Andrew doesn't have time to be upset with his orgasm coursing through him. His eyes close on their own accord, the feeling wiping out his sight for a few blissful seconds as he trembles. He's vaguely aware of Neil's hands on his muscles, feeling them clench with the aftershocks.

Andrew's stomach bottoms out, and he feels the rush all the way down his legs.

Never before, never this intense. Not with anyone but Neil.

He slumps forward, his body about as relaxed as it can be in Neil's arms. The urge to run after these moments isn't really there anymore, the need for separation either delayed or gone completely. It's the result of doing this...many times, and Neil's arms still rest loosely around Andrew, ready to let go the moment he needs it.

They lay like that for a few seconds, their pants echoing in the small space and Andrew licks the salt from Neil's neck. The striker has the nerve to give Andrew more space, welcoming all the marks. He doesn't even realize he'll be wearing sweaters for a few days in the blistering heat, if only to avoid Kevin's wrath.

Andrew pops off, satisfied with the fresh bruise, and savors the low whine he gets for it.

Eventually, he has to move, but less for the need to get cleaned up and more due to an odd feeling tugging at his abdomen. Neil's noises...they're troublesome for Andrew's self-control, and Andrew is sure Neil knows it.

The mess in Andrew's boxers is...a lot, and he grimaces as he shifts a little. He doesn't pull away completely, just to let Neil know he's alright, but he looks down at the striker with something swimming in his chest.

Neil's breathing is ragged, chest still heaving, and Andrew's eyes follow the trail of hickies he left on Neil's collarbone. The odd feeling hits him again, a simmering heat.

Unfinished.

Ah, so that's it. He gets it.

Andrew's eyes darken and he hears the moment Neil figures it out too. The redhead's throat clears, mixed with a moan as he sits up with Andrew. His eyes are still wide, pupils blown and covering icy blue in darkness. They're expectant, excited.

So, so much energy.

Andrew knows his smirk doesn't show on his actual face, but he has to fight real hard against it as he stands up. Neil licks his lips, tracking the movement as Andrew pulls the waistband of his boxers forward. He's a mess; his cock is slick with his own cum, globs of it sticking to the fabric. Without betraying his own emotions, he pulls himself out for Neil to see the state of him. In Andrew's head, the mantra repeats: you do this to me, you make me feel this way.

Neil's eyes get that hazy quality to them, the intense focus usually applied to games, and Andrew quirks a brow. Neil's glances keep flitting between Andrew's face and his dripping cock, not sure where to look, but eager nonetheless. His mouth is already open, ready. The fire in Andrew's gut is no longer simmering, it's back in full force. Not yet satisfied, not done.

His cum is about to start dripping on the floor when he finally takes pity on them both.

"Hey," he says, almost innocently, and Neil freezes. "Clean up your mess."

And oh, Neil certainly does.

Appropriately, Andrew is peckish after this, and Kevin had once again gone through the trouble of throwing away all his candy.

Honestly, Andrew could kill him at this point. Their deal is over, but then he'd have no reason to drag Neil out after 10 p.m. to try desserts Andrew knows he'll hate. His reactions make Andrew's chest feel fuzzy, and as uncomfortable as it is, he knows it's not a bad feeling or a particularly overwhelming one. Therefore, it's best to use for exposure therapy.

He's making Neil taste baklava at some 24-hour dessert bar when he says the words, unprompted and lazy, but it doesn't feel less right. For whatever reason, their moments of mundanity seem to coax the most monumental things out of Andrew, probably because they're the most grounded he ever feels.

Neil's hair is still a mess from their activities, that coupled with his scrunched up nose at the sweetness of the pastry is so routine, so familiar, it softens Andrew's edges. Andrew's fingertips are sticky from the syrup, but there's nothing filthy about watching Neil's lips wrap around them when Andrew feeds him the bite. It's so oddly cliche and cheesy, Andrew can't believe he did it without realizing.

Neil sticks out his tongue in disgust as he chews, pushing the rest of the pastry at Andrew in favor of his boring gummy bears (Andrew made him get something), when Andrew tilts his head to look at him. Really look.

He doesn't know what he's searching for, and he doesn't find it. It's a relief; Neil is the same, and it's such a comfort Andrew has to force it down.

His brain, always the betrayer, whispers: This is it.

It's not said in a romantic, or even joyful way. It's simply stating a fact; he won't have this again, and won't pursue it.

Neil's eyes soften when he catches Andrew staring, but doesn't call it out like he normally would. The striker rests his head on his arm, blue eyes shining under the shitty diner lights. They're back to normal, all ice, all color. His hand slides across the tabletop to brush Andrew's, not quite linking, but a constant. An 'I'm here' just because he feels like it.

The ease in Neil's eyes, brought on by all their exertion and from Andrew's presence, is so unlike the desire from earlier. It's apparent, but not jarring. This side of Neil is still one he knows, one he's come to expect without meaning to. There's something so innocent about it, so genuine, the words overflow.

"Neil," he says, even though he already has Neil's undivided attention. He wonders what kind of face he's making to get that kind of reaction, but then assures himself he doesn't want to know. He can't handle that yet. He clears away the tightness in his throat as best he can without acknowledging that it's there, and lets the realization wash over him. "Next time we're alone."

He's ready to try if Neil is. He knows Neil will understand what he's referring to. It's both a proposition and a promise, and Neil reads it easily.

He blinks, sitting up in that way which reminds Andrew of an actual fox. If Neil had the ears they would perk up, alert. His fingers inch forward, between the spaces Andrew has left for him already.

"You're ready?" Neil asks, voice quiet but resounding in the deserted shop. Andrew shivers, but knows the answer. He's known for a few days, but only now does he feel up to admitting it.

"Yes."

There's not much more he needs--or wants--to say. This is his decision; the mess in his mind is still there. The image of hurting Neil, or old memories surging forward in the heat of the moment. The shock of being so connected to someone, so vulnerable. It's all still there, making his skin crawl.

But then Neil looks at him like this, a mix of lust and some other emotion he won't name (won't assign Katelyn's stupid definition to) and it becomes a factor. Despite all the mess, Neil is someone he can trust and someone who trusts Andrew.

They want this, that's enough.

"Neil," he says when Neil has been quiet too long, that stupid look on his face, and watches him blush a brilliant shade of red.

"I--yes, yes of course I--" Neil stammers, and it's instinct for him to ground himself with Andrew's touch. His hand grips Andrew's tight, as if Andrew needs more convincing when Neil's tone is so excited. The striker's gaze turns firm, determined, and heat simmers in Andrew's chest once more. "I want that..."

No kidding.

"Stop being an idiot," Andrew snaps, but he tightens his hold on Neil's hand anyways. He's not sure who he's talking to.

Judging by the smile Neil is trying to force down, he knows it too.

"You have a thing for idiots," he whispers with a smirk, teeth pressing into his bottom lip, and oh yes, Andrew always knew this man was far too dangerous to keep around.

Too late now.

"Apparently," he sighs, feigning resignation. He leans against the back of the booth, and it's mostly so he can see all of Neil clearly. The disheveled clothes, the unruly hair, the sharpness. In reality, he's far from cursing his future in that moment. He's not sure if he can label the static in his abdomen and his head as excitement, but he has a feeling it's exactly that.

Troublesome, and much too powerful to try and push away.

Satisfied, Neil smiles and leans back too. They don't stay separate for long; as soon as Neil's hand is off his, Andrew feels a strong leg press into his calf. He doesn't even flinch these days.

Neil poises to throw a gummy bear, and Andrew opens his mouth willingly to catch it, falling back into their easy routine of wasting time together. Long drives, stupid questions and stupider answers.

Andrew misses three out of the ten gummy bears, not really trying. It makes Neil laugh harder when he misses.

On the fifteenth throw, realization crosses over Neil's face, and he pauses. The smirk turns deadly, razor sharp. Andrew has never seen Neil so vengeful, and the excitement only grows when Neil speaks. "You know what this means?"

Andrew raises a brow, and Neil inhales, giddy with his own spite. "We can finally kick Kevin out."

And he automatically knows what Neil means. He recalls hours spent holed up in the stadium, making out with Neil and wishing they were cocooned in bed while Kevin sexiled them for time with Thea.

The word leaves Andrew's mouth, as deadly as Neil's expression. "Payback."

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten

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ineffablefool · 5 years ago

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ffxplayer replied to your post “Do you have any tips for writing about romantic/aesthetic attraction...”

I adore your love of Aziraphale's belly, but I understand your point. You almost have to skim over to make it not f/e//tishy, which might not be what people want to write. And that sucks.

Yeah! Fat people (and any other group of culturally-othered people, I’m just on about this one right now) one million percent deserve to see their physical selves held up as being attractive for being exactly what they are, without any kind of “in spite of” garbage. Which means praise for those physical selves! Except praising those physical features isn’t common, hence isn’t “““normal”““ (big ol’ scare quotes because what even is normality), hence must be some kind of sex thing, oh, okay, now we’ve got it figured out, now it all makes sense.

So it’s like, do I tone it down and not give voice to the full complete unhesitating adoration that fat people deserve for the bodies they live in, not some hypothetical smaller or differently-proportioned body but their actual wonderful perfect current ones? Or do I just. scream it all to the rooftops. and accept that now my adoration is somebody’s p//o/rn?

And I get that absolutely everything on earth is probably somebody’s Private Times material. Grocery lists. Ikea assembly instructions. People are complicated and multifarious critters. But it’s just... tiring that a detailed description of one person’s pleasing physical features can be, like, high art, while an equally-detailed description of a different person’s pleasing physical features is Weird Perverted K/in//k. It is very, very tiring.

(Love Of Aziraphale’s Belly content, because I know it will make me feel better, anyway: currently imagining that thing where someone has a very pretty and soft belly, and then they sit down and it all squishes up on their lap, and now it somehow impossibly looks even prettier and even softer. Rolls at the sides, or love handles if their weight distribution happens to form that specific feature, pressing up against whatever they’re wearing in beautiful swooping curves that one could follow with one’s eyes pretty much forever if one were so inclined. Top of the belly, where it arcs away from the chest, forming a perfect little shelf where a hand would fit very very nicely, supposing one had consent to cuddle up against the gorgeous human being in possession of that shelf. Supposing one were that incredibly lucky and privileged.

There. I feel better now. My arms are doing the thing where they hurt because they don’t actually have anyone to cuddle, but I feel better now.)

#ffxplayer #ineffablefool reply #don't get me started i just have so many Feelings and nowhere to put them except fanfic #also boy i hope putting them slashes into words still works like i think it does

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cravingmarvel · 6 years ago

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Leave Me Lonely - Part Two

Bucky Barnes AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A few swear words, emotional & physical violence

Word count: 3055 (Yeah idk how that happened again)

“I played around with the engagement ring on Bucky’s finger, reminding me that he’s just mine for the late hours. Only when the sky is dark and covered in glowing stars. When the moon comes out giving him permission to touch me in the most intimate places. It means that he can love me and doesn’t have to pretend.”

A/N: I really really really hope you like this! I’ve been kind of scared to post this, because I’m scared that this part isn’t good enough hahahah I’d really love feedback, I’m even more insecure rn hahahah

Have fun!

I marked the parts where it jumps from Bucky’s to Reader’s POV with a vertical line (—).

Leave Me Lonely - Part One

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Tagging my muturals & people who I love

@buckisthatyou @buckybarneshairpullingkink @buckystan-plums @buckyforbreakfast @samingtonwilson @spideyjlaw @sgtjbuccky @captain-ariel-barnes @whyisbuckyso

(You are not obligated to read this if you don’t want to hahah)

The afternoon sunlight shone on my face and gave the city of New York a soft and soothing yellow glow. I stepped out of the apartment complex y/n lived in and walk to my car that had seen better days. The blue paint had faded and started to come off, making my car look older than it actually was. I bought this car when I was nineteen years old and had a job at a hardware store. My parents kept offering to buy me a new, more stylish car, but I declined. I wanted to know what it felt like to make my own decision, to do what I wanted to do without asking for permission. My parents have been like this ever since I can remember. Always making decisions for me. What kind of university I go to and what I’m going to study in order to stay in the family business. So when I got my own job and earned my own cash, the first sip of freedom tasted so well.

I sat down at the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and put my seat belt on. My phone started ringing as I was about to pull out of the parking spot to drive home. I took my phone out of my pocket and a light shiver ran down my spine as I saw who the caller was.

My mother.

She never calls me unless someone’s dead. And I can’t tell who out of my family hasn’t died already. I pressed the green icon and held the phone to my ear, patiently awaiting my mother’s screeching voice on the other end.

“Hello darling, are you home?”

I hesitated before telling her where I was. “No, I just came out of y/n apartment. I’m still in the car. Why?”

“Oh you were with that girl again?” I could hear the disgust in her voice and the venom as she said y/n’s name. My mother never liked her, she made that clear when she came to my apartment and I introduced them to each other. At the very first glance, fate was sealed that they wouldn’t get along. My mother made it very clear that I would not get together with a woman like that. A woman who studied art and made her money as a waitress. For her, y/n was a lost cause, someone who threw her life away for paintbrushes and aprons.

“Yes I was and she has a name. What did you call me for?” I started to already feel tired of this conversation.

“I called you because the lovely Ana is here and we have something exciting to tell you.” I heard Ana’s giggle and my father’s voice in the background. “We’ll see you when you get here.”

The change in her tone was significant and not something you couldn’t pick up once she started to talk about Ana.

When I rang the doorbell, I could hear laughter emerging from inside and a voice getting closer to the front door. Behind it stood my mother in her best dress, probably Burberry. The sound of violin’s echoed through the living room and a faint smell of roses mixed in with the air. Ana sat on one of the couches waiting for me to sit next to her. I greeted her with a smile and a small nod. I was confused as to why Ana was sitting in my parent’s living room and what the news were all about.

“So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?” My parents looked at each other and then Ana before my mother spoke up.

“Ana is going to have a baby.” My mother smiled widely and Ana turned her head to look at me. I couldn’t believe what my mother just told me.

“What?” I let out a dry laugh in hopes that it was just a joke but from the faces I received in return, it was clear that it wasn’t. I turned my body to face the woman sitting next to me with a look of disbelieve. We had sex twice and she said she was on birth control, so how could this happen? “That’s impossible, Ana.” She shook her head and that’s all I needed. I leaned back an inhaled deeply. “What now?”

“You are going to get married. You can’t have a baby without being married. But don’t worry your father and I took care of everything.”

I thought I misunderstood but my mother already handed me a small box with a ring placed in it. I couldn’t spent the rest of my life with that woman. And what about y/n, the woman I actually love?

“I can’t. I—“

“You can and you will. You can’t get a girl pregnant and then expect to walk away like nothing happened. You have to own up to it and do as we say!” My mother stepped closer and looked down on me. “You have already disappointed us enough, James.”

I felt the tears roll down my face and looked over to Ana, who seemed so uninterested to what is happening before her eyes. My mother pointed to Ana and my throat felt like it closed off completely. I cleared my throat and Ana jumped slightly, turning to me with a smile on her face. I felt every pair of eyes on me and the tears didn’t seem to stop. It should be y/n instead of Ana who I’m going to ask this question to.

“Will you marry me?”

I put my suitcase on the floor to open the door to my apartment. Ana followed close behind me complaining that I wasn’t helping her, but I couldn’t, I had our baby in my other arm.

Our honeymoon was set back until Ana gave birth because she didn’t want to go while she was pregnant. She didn’t want to lay on the beach in a bikini and have a baby bump that made her look fat. I thought it was ridiculous, but even my parents stood on her side. We lived with my parents for the time Ana was pregnant, so this is the day she is moving in with me. My parents thought it would be better, because they didn’t think I could take care of Ana alone and give her the care she needs. And they were right. I was overwhelmed by everything that had to do with her pregnancy, but not only that, I was also overwhelmed by Ana. Everything I did was wrong and she kept complaining about her pregnancy instead of trying to enjoy it and to appreciate that there is a baby growing inside her, waiting to see the world.

Her whole personality changed as soon as my parents stepped foot into the room. So I’m not very excited to live with her. I guess this is my punishment.

We got into my apartment and I could barely recognize it. Ana changed everything many times before she was satisfied. I could hear her groan behind me and tuned around to face her.

“They put in the wrong curtains. I wanted dark grey, not this.” She went over to the window to examine the curtains. To me they looked alright but Ana has a very specific taste and wants everything to be her kind of perfect. Ana kept complaining about everything in the apartment. The bed, the colour on the living room walls and about anything really.

I took care of our baby, Lilia. Even though the thought of being with Ana for the rest of my life made me want to throw up, the result of us sleeping together gave my life a new purpose. She is beautiful and I wondered many times before, how I helped create her. She’s still so small, fragile and she means the world to me. Even though the woman I wanted to spend my life with, was long out of my life, because I left her. I left her lonely.

—

I can’t remember how I managed to go home after the wedding. My vision was blurry from all the tears that spilled and my body was weaker than ever before. I was barely able to put one foot in front of the other and walking up the stairs to my apartment felt like torture. I had to stop a few steps and sit down to cry and to collect myself again. I knew the next few months, hell maybe even years, were going to be a nightmare.

Bucky did as I told him and left me. He went back to the party with the love of his life, Ana. He didn’t even look back to see me falling to the floor. I felt my heart getting heavier and heavier. So heavy I thought the impact of my knees hitting the floor would break the marble tiles.

When I came home, everything I had inside, every ounce of anger, sadness and pain was spilled out all at once. I hoped that after letting everything out I would feel better, but that wasn’t the case. The days seemed longer, the nights darker and my hopes smaller. I started to feel safer at home, like nothing was able to hurt me here. My bed felt softer and gave me the warmth I needed, even though I wanted to feel the warmth that radiated from Bucky’s chest more.

I started to go to the grocery store thirty minutes away from my home, just so I wouldn’t run into Bucky or Ana. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her pregnant with his child, carrying what I wanted to give him, a baby.

I got so consumed in sorrow, that I looked at their Instagram accounts more than a few times a day. I felt so distant to the man I used to feel the closest with, so I assumed seeing him in pictures would be the only remedy. It turned out that it made things just harder. Not only did he post pictures of himself, but also Ana. The same knife was stabbed into my heart over and over again, the same knife Bucky first pushed in my chest the day he told me he was engaged.

But the worst day out of all of them was the day Ana gave birth. She gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl I’ve ever seen. The pain in my chest never really stopped, not even after the past months, but that day they reached a new level. She looked nothing like Ana and I was glad about that. I have to admit, I hoped it would turn out not to be Bucky’s child, but the resemblance was striking. Her nose is just as narrow as his and her cheekbones set just as high. But her eyes; her eyes are the same ocean blue as her dad’s, crystal clear and sparkling like a diamond. They named her Lilia and I remembered when Bucky told me that if he’s going to have a daughter, he’s going to name her Lilia.

I sat on my couch watching my favourite movie with a glass of cheap wine in my hand. The sensation of alcohol slightly clouded my mind and I wouldn’t want to spend my Friday night any different. Everything felt calm and relaxed. The sky was dark but still occupied with stars, mirroring the glowing lights of Manhattan. The thoughts of Bucky shoved into the deep dark part of my brain, carefully placed there to never be brought out again. The movie suddenly became boring and the thought of looking over the city intrigued me. I grabbed my phone and stood at the window of my living room. I turned the music loud and melted into the sound, looking at the city.

I unlocked my phone to change the song that was playing to something more calming. But as I looked at the screen, my heart sunk as I read today’s date. Bucky came home from his honeymoon today. I wanted to scream, why couldn’t he just stay in another country forever? I was fine for the three weeks he was gone. I started shopping at my local grocery store again without fear. I was able to take a stroll through the city without the pounding anxiety, that Bucky could be walking the same streets. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I sunk to the floor. Why did he break me like this?

And I screamed, so loudly that hopefully Bucky could hear it. I wanted him to, I wanted him to hear the pain he is still causing me.

“I could move.”

My head shot up at the words in my mind. If he’s not leaving, then I am. I grabbed my laptop and typed in available apartments in Brooklyn. That was far enough, right? After hours of looking for someplace to move into, I found someone who’s looking for a roommate. Her name is Natasha.

—

Ana was a nightmare, one where you wish you could wake up but you’re paralyzed. Just a week after moving in, she managed to make me feel small and unloved. She started to control every aspect of my life in that short time span. I couldn’t go outside anymore except for work, because I had to take care of everything at home. She was able to spend more money in a day than I ever could in a month. Taking care of our baby seemed like it wasn’t her job at all, and so Lilia was my responsibility alone. She had no interest in Lilia anymore since we came back. The mother of my child, isn’t being a mother to her. And it overwhelmed me. I struggled to give Lilia what she needs. No one taught me how to change diapers, to warm up her milk because Ana refused to breastfeed her and calming her down from crying seemed impossible.

Even worse, Ana was disgusted by her own child. She kept complaining about Lilia drooling on the couch and screamed at our one month old baby. And that was the moment I truly wanted to turn back time.

I was scared to add Lilia to the list of people I love and that I’ve hurt, disappointed and let down.

I came home and was already able to hear Lilia crying inside of the apartment. I was tired and drained of energy. I hoped to get support from my wife, but that will never happen. I saw Lilia sitting in her highchair and rushed over to her. “Don’t cry, princess.” I took her in my arms and snuggled her to my chest while softly rubbing circles on her back. As she stared to calm down I made it my mission to find Ana. This couldn’t go on like this and I was ready to tell her how I feel.

With Lilia in my arms, I gathered up all my courage. I felt like I just went back in time to all those moments I convinced myself I could stand up to my parents. I walked to the bedroom where I was able to hear Ana talking on the phone and rummaging through stuff, probably throwing away clothes for her next shopping trip. With my hand shaking and my heart pounding, afraid it’ll going to burst, I opened the door. Ana was holding some of her clothes in her hands, but seconds later she threw them in a suitcase.

“Ana, what are you doing?” She looked up and she lowered her hand that held the phone.

“I’m packing.” She closed her suitcase and walked passed me. I followed her to the front door, anger bubbling inside me.

“Well, where are you going? I can’t remember us going on vacation. Oh wait, I can’t go on vacation, because I have to go to work to earn money for all the shit you’re buying.” The tone in my voice was poisoned, dripping in hatred for the woman standing in front of me.

“I’m leaving, James. Do you think I can stand one more day in this hell hole?” She took a few steps towards me. “This—“ she pointed her finger to Lilia, who was still snuggled to the side of my chest. “Is the worst thing that ever happened to me. And you are a disappointment of a man.” My jaw dropped at her words and my mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that she was leaving me. “I met someone on our honeymoon, his name is Gordon and he can please me like you never could.” Her voice got lower, darker with every letter. I felt my heart break. How could she not love her own child?

“Do you even know what a fucking brat you’ve been?” I shouted at her without remorse. I wanted her to feel the anger. “You’ve done absolutely nothing ever since you moved in. All you ever do is complain and spend my money!” The look on her face said it all. She was pissed.

Next thing I felt her hand slap my cheek with full force, leaving the side of my face red from the impact. Lilia was no longer peacefully quiet. The apartment was now filled with crying and anger lingered in the air. It was hard to breathe and I felt my chest collapse and rise at an abnormal pace.

“Then leave!” I shouted right into her face. She picked up her suitcase and slammed the door shut. I leaned against the door before sinking to the floor, holding Lilia tightly to my chest. I wanted to soothe her but my cries filled the room. How was I supposed to move on from here? I can’t take care of Lilia when I’m at work.

“Just leave. Leave me lonely.”

Y/n’s words kept echoing through my brain making me shiver. This is probably how she felt. An idea struck me like lightning. I’m probably going to get hurt but it’s worth a try.

—

I stood up from the dinner table when I heard a knock on my door. The music in my small apartment was loud and I bobbed my head as I headed to the door, walking to the beat.

I opened it only to wish I never did.

Leave Me Lonely Taglist: (OPEN)

@lovely-geek @untoldshortsofthefandoms @godohammers @bitemebuckybarnes @photography-to-all @vogueworthy-barnes

Permanent Taglist: (OPEN)

@fuckthatfeeling @funkenniffler @void-imaginations @dewy-biitch @7kindsofpurgatory

PART THREE

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky angst #bucky au #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #leave me lonely

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antioedipal · 6 years ago

Text

process, form, function, relation, rhizome? fuck me up ! . .

[800 word essay/rant i just wrote about sex being constantly ruined for me over the past decade and how it’s something I want to reclaim, want to experience in actually safe and positive contexts, but it feels constantly impossible and unachievable because of peer pressure to be sexual and various social dynamics that just make it seem like an impossible future. I deleted all of the essay except for the last paragraph (remaining below) because i was scared of what people will think about me lmao, though i saved it on my computer for future reference]

aer used to hold my hand when we were in public and also just throughout the day at home and it would make me so less anxious, it felt minimally physical and not overwhelming, but it also reminded me someone really loved me and was going to keep me safe and it was okay i would get panicky in public and tense up. i’m totally not crying in this cafe rn and feeling empty and anxious and overhwlemd inside. its times like this where i want someone to hold my hand and tell me they’re not upset with me for being emotional, that i don’t have to talk i can just sit and feel and they’ll be there for me through it. but i dont know how to find that comfort and im just so overhwlemed all the time and especially rn and so scared so scared and overhwleemd and feel so stupid for wanting my hand held????

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thegreatersea · 4 years ago

Video

#(can someone please make a transcript I can't rn)

A few hours late, but I got it!

Transcript from Charisma Carpenter's Instagram account, karazma:

For nearly two decades, I have held my tongue and even made excuses for certain events that traumatize me to this day.

Joss Whedon abused his power on numerous occasions while working together on the sets of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. While he found his misconduct amusing, it only served to intensify my performance anxiety, disempower me, and alienate my from my peers. The disturbing incidents triggered a chronic physical condition from which I still suffer. It is with a beating, heavy heart that I say I coped in isolation and, at times, destructively.

Last summer, when Ray Fisher publicly accused Joss of abusive and unprofessional behavior toward the cast and crew during reshoots on the Justice League set in 2017, it gutted me. Joss has a history of being casually cruel. He has created hostile and toxic work environments since his early career. I know because I experienced it first-hand. Repeatedly.

Like his ongoing, passive-aggressive threats to fire me, which wreaks havoc on a young actor's self-esteem. And callously calling me "fat" to colleagues when I was 4 months pregnant, weighing 126 lbs. He was mean and biting, disparaging about others openly, and often played favorites pitting people against one another to vie for his attention and approval.

He called me in for a sit-down meeting to interrogate and berate me regarding a rosary tattoo I got to help me feel more spiritually grounded in an increasingly volatile work climate that affected me physically.

Joss intentionally refused multiple calls from my agents making it impossible to connect with him to tell him the news that I was pregnant. Finally, once Joss was apprised of the situation, he requested a meeting with me. In that closed-door meeting, he asked me if I was "going to keep it" and manipulatively weaponised my womanhood and faith against me. He proceeded to attack my character, mock my religious beliefs, accuse me of sabotaging the show, and then unceremoniously fired me the following season once I gave birth.

At six months pregnant, I was asked to report to work at 1:00 AM after my doctor recommended shortening my work hours. Due to long and physically demanding days and the emotional stress of having to defend my needs as a working pregnant woman, I began to experience Braxton Hicks contractions. It was clear to me the 1:00 AM call was retaliatory.

Back then, I felt powerless and alone. With no other option, I swallowed the mistreatment and carried on. After all, I had a baby on the way, and I was the primary breadwinner of my growing family. Unfortunately, all this was happening during one of the most wonderful times in new motherhood. All that promise and joy sucked right out. And Joss was the vampire.

Despite the harrassment, a part of me still sought his validation. I made excuses for his behavior and repressed my own pain. I even stated publicly at conventions that I'd work with him again. Only recently, after years of therapy and a wake up call from the Time's Up movement, do I understand the complexities of this demoralized thinking. It is impossible to understand the psyche without enduring the abuse. Our society and industry vilify the victims and glorify the abusers for their accomplishments. The onus is on the abused with an expectation to accept and adapt to be employable. No accountability on the transgressor who sails on unscathed. Unrepentant. Remorseless.

These memories and more have weighed on my soul like bricks for nearly half of my life. I wish I said something sooner. I wish I had the courage and composure all those years ago. But I muted myself in shame and conditioned silence.

With tears welling, I feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility to Ray and others for remaining private about my experience with Joss and the suffering it has caused me. It is abundantly evident that Joss has persisted in his harmful actions, continuing to create wreckage in his wake. My hope now, by finally coming forward about these experiences, is to create space for the healing of others who I know have experienced similar serialized abuses of power.

Recently, I participated in WarnerMedia's Justice League investigation because I believe Ray is a person of integrity who is telling the truth. His firing as Cyborg in The Flash was the last straw for me. Although I am not shocked, I am deeply pained by it. It troubles and saddens me that in 2021 professionals STILL have to choose between whistleblowing in the workplace and job security.

It has taken me so long to muster the courage to make this statement publicly. The gravity of it is not lost on me. As a single mother whose family's livelihood is dependent on my craft, I'm scared. Despite my fear about its impact on my future, I can no longer remain silent. This is overdue and necessary. It is time.

youtube

Charisma Carpenter talks about getting fired from Angel. Thank you for sending me this link!

#abuse cw #fuck joss whedon

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sakuurae · 7 years ago

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53 and 8 I know requests are closed rn but I'll forget to ask for this if I don't do this now lmao,, could you maybe do 53 and 8 with Johnny? If it's okay

prompts: “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”“I want my best friend back.”

pairing: johnny & reader insertincludes: light angstwc: 1.6knote: Not sure if this is the direction you wanted this to go down, but i hope you enjoy! I havent had the most motivation to write a lot lately, so this is probably the shortest thing ill ever release on this blog, lmaooo. I just needed to write a bit to see if itd help me get out of my slump :)

It was not an everyday occurrence for you to feel under the weather.

In fact, it was a rare event. Blue days for you were tabbed under the file of impossibilities in your life, for everything was peachy and placid for a short while. That was because you had Jung Jaehyun in your life.

Well, to be quite fair, your boyfriend, Jaehyun, still held a place in your life. It was just because he was no longer physically close to you. He had to move away for college, now at the opposite side of the country. To keep up communication was a promise, a determined task in order to hold up one of the pillars of the relationship. But even so that duty was met, it never felt enough for you—you craved to see Jaehyun, to be held in his arms again, and feel not the slightest amount of distance. The only proximity you wanted to be shared was the inches that his face were to be from yours, right before he shuts it with a fervent kiss.

And thinking about that made your heart swell—in all the good and bad ways.

Months had soared by and Jaehyun still remained on the opposite side of the country, even though it felt like he was crosswise on the universe. Back at your hometown you spent your college days with a man named Youngho. He was no stranger; in fact, he was someone who knew you as much as Jaehyun did because Youngho was, indeed, your closest friend. During high school the three of you hung out like peas in a pod��until the split happened.

It felt like fate to have Youngho attend the same university as you, especially since the rest of your friends became scattered across the country. But as if there was a transparent string that latched you to Youngho, moving away from him was futile.

Throughout the course of a few months soaring by, Youngho witnessed your blue phases waving over your being like a gargantuan tide. The smile he knew like the back of his hand—the grin he would be able to sketch from memory since it is imbued into his brain—started to fade along with the twinkles of hope that sparkled in your eyes.

Imperfect qualities that Youngho saw as flawless had no longer graced your being, and they were overtaken by a frown of dismal. You then started to walk as if there was an overcast lingering above you, and that weights were dragging your ankles back.

Tired of witnessing your tenebrous appearance, Youngho voiced the idea of lunch. To no surprise, you declined, and that only prompted him to pester you until you released a breathy ‘yes.’

Youngho accompanied you to one of his favourite local restaurants, the beam that painted in his face never faltering from the false belief that his joy would uplift your spirits. Confused looks were being tossed to him, and the question of why he was acting all jocular lodged into your throat, the words in tight knots.

You were sitting across the table from him in his favourite restaurant, an uncomfortable silence lapsing for the first few moments. Your cellular phone was resting on the surface, face up with notifications on in the hopes that your device would flash with an incoming call from Jaehyun. You were more attentive to your phone than Youngho’s words, and it caused him to release a sigh.

“I heard the food here’s pretty good,” he informed you, his fingertips drumming on the wooden table as the meals arrive. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You nodded, your lips pursed into a pout. “Yeah, I think I will too.”

Youngho’s expression dropped when he heard your voice. The words were hopeful, but laced with desolation, and it bored a void into Youngho’s chest. You were gawking at your phone, eyes barely peering up to Youngho and at your food. Though, the moment you and Youngho locked solemn gazes he forced a smile, the corners of his lips quirking up into an expression of reassurance.

Your hand was resting on the table and you started to retract it to grab onto your phone, but Youngho’s arm extended to stop you, his hand grasping around your wrist.

“Don’t think about him for one night—maybe even an hour,” Youngho told you with a beaming grin. His thumb circled over your skin in a comforting manner, trying to ease you out of your worries. “Just enjoy this food—I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You released a sigh, a sound Youngho had then became accustomed to throughout the night. “Fine,” you groaned, your hand retracting to your side. “I guess he’s fine.”

“Of course he is,” Youngho assured. “It’s Jae, after all.”

After he said that, you remained silent throughout the entire night. The most you touched your food was with simple prods with a fork, or spears into the sustenance with a knife, but you never consumed anything. Your worries chased their way into your mind in a pestering manner, and it diminished your appetite, making the food go to a practical waste.

Youngho was eating passionately across the table, the corners of his lips quirked upwards as if he believed the happiness was a virus that he would be able to pass onto you. Though, just as your own, his smile faded once you could no longer fight the urge to check your phone for messages, calls—anything from Jaehyun. You perused your social media when there was no luck, only to find a fresh trace of your boyfriend resting on your news feed.

Jaehyun uploaded a picture of himself at a football game, his arm looped around another girl as if he dragged her into an annoying embrace; the sight of it made your insides flame up with envy and fractions of antipathy. A thousand questions soared into your mind: why was he with her, how did he have the time to upload a picture and not respond to your messages for the past two days?

You, once again, sighed and placed your head down on the dinner table. The phone slipped from your grasp and it remained motionless on the surface, enticing Youngho to catch a glimpse of the reason you were under the weather.

Youngho pressed his lips into a thin line and spoke, “Is everything okay, (y/n)?”

You tilted your head, facing him with glossy eyes. “Yeah,” you assured. “Just Jae again.”

“You used to never worry about him,” Youngho commented, twirling his fork into his meal. “Well, you did—but not to this degree. Is everything okay?”

“Of course everything is okay.” You nodded, straightening your posture. You looked at your close friend intensely, the determination in your eyes to convince him present.

Youngho’s eyebrows came together, the worried expression sketching on his face making you slump in your seat. “You haven’t even touched your food,” he commented. “You’re not fine—what’s going on?”

“Just Jae—”

“But what about Jae,” he continued sternly. You were practically able to hear the disappointment sketch on his face, his worries evident in the air. Youngho gained a desire to message Jaehyun, to give him the idea that he was causing you to pain unintentionally—that he was hurting you immensely just by ignoring you or brushing your presence to the side, but he was unable to for all the selfish reasons.

You heard Youngho sigh when you decided to remain silent. The truth was written on the walls, but you were unable to voice the complaints to Youngho—because saying it made you feel as if you were facing the end of your and Jaehyun’s relationship. It was a rocky path since he moved and you chose to give him the benefit of the doubt—always.

Youngho sighed and stared at you as you rose up and fixed your posture. “I want my best friend back,” he told you. You opened your mouth to reply, but he cut you off by adding, “You’ve been worrying about Jaehyun constantly. I think you need to talk to him on the phone about this. And I know he isn’t replying to you, but I’m sure he sees your texts. Message him saying it’s serious and call to sort things out—because I hate seeing you upset. It makes me hurt knowing I can’t do anything to make you feel better, (y/n).”

His words swam in your ears and it took you a while for you to comprehend. Youngho had a valid point, but your fear still took over you for a couple of seconds. “Fine,” you sighed, reaching for your device again. “What should I say?”

“Say you need to talk when he’s free—and that it’s important,” Youngho guided, slipping his phone out of his pocket to pass time as you send the message.

You stared at the screen emptily, the message window of Jaehyun on your screen as if it was mockery. You groaned, dreading such an act and a call, but allowed your thumb to roam the surface nonetheless.

You [6:53 p.m.] Jae, we need to talk. Call me when you can, okay?

You hesitated and looked up at Youngho, whose phone ringed off from a notification, staring at him before adding:

You [6:55 p.m.] I miss you a lot, jae :(

You smiled at the sent messages, the fence no longer feeling like a tall obstacle you had to hop over. Grinning at Youngho, you noticed a frown being pulled at his lips.

“Is everything okay, Youngho?” you asked him, the tables turning as you were worrying about him now.

But he remained silent. The effort Youngho pushed you to do went down the drain, and little did you know those messages to your boyfriend meant close to nothing.

Youngho stared at the message on his screen as if it was a lifeless taunt:

Jaehyun [6:53 p.m.] dude, i think i should break up with (y/n)

Jaehyun [6:53 p.m.] distance kills, and it just doesnt seem like we’re going to work out

Youngho forced a smile at you, assuring you of your worries as he put his phone away. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry about anything.”

#The last time i touched this was a month ago #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct #nct fanfic #nct johnny #johnny angst #youngho angst #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #not my best out there but hey #i needed something #writing #anonymous #messages

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dinatlou · 8 years ago

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DO ALL 100!

Here we go… I’ve finally done it!

1: is there a boy/girl in your life?Nope, I’m a single Pringle

2: think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?It wasn’t actually one person it was a group of people and absolutely not. I can’t forgive them for what they said and did (I’m not going to get into it tho)

3: what do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”My cat :)

4: what’s something you really want right now?Idk, I’m not sure I want to get too deep about it lol

5: are you afraid of falling in love?Me!? Afraid of falling in love? What would make you think such a thing (you’re totally right)

6: do you like the beach?I do! Although I don’t go loads of tbh. The beach is so calming and peaceful. I just get stressed in the summer bc bees and wasps are about.

7: have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?I slept on one half of a sofa while someone’s sat in the other half?? Does that count? Wasn’t like cute or anything. It’s family so like????

8: what’s the background on your cell?Just generic one that came on my phone. My lock screen is me, my sister and two of my cousins

9: name the last four beds you were sat on?Mine x3 and my sisters :’)

10: do you like your phone?Yeah I do!! Idk what else to say ahaha

11: honestly, are things going the way you planned?NO OMG?! It’s actually the complete opposite to what I had in mind. I never even imagined my life would be remotely like this but I suppose my minds like a little dream land or something?

12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?Probably two of my friends. I never had their numbers because we would just talk on Facebook or whatever.

13: would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?Poodle!!

14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?Emotional!! If you get a cut, it’ll scab over. If you break a bone, you get a cast. If you’re hurt mentally/emotionally/psychologically there isn’t a quick fix to that

15: would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?Hmmm, idk. Maybe a zoo? Don’t hate me I know they shouldn’t be there but..idk

16: are you tired?Always ahahha

17: how long have you known your 1st phone contact?I’ve already answered this one and I cba to write it out again ahaha

18: are they a relative?The girl I talked about in the other ask isn’t no, she’s a friend.

19: would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?I mean, maybe if I had an ex to even get back with?

20: when did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?Never apparently, never kissed anyone

21: if you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?Well, one I’m single. But if I was with someone and I knew I was going to be with them forever I would marry them…but not now. I’m only 17 and I can’t fork out for a wedding rn ahaha

22: would you kiss the last person you kissed again?Again, seems impossible.

23: how many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?0 haha

24: is there a certain quote you live by?I guess “Ohana means family” from Lilo and Stitch? I used to say it a lot as a kid. It’s stuck really. Family is really important to me but I’m also a believer that family isn’t always blood

25: what’s on your mind?lol too much

26: do you have any tattoos?No, but I think I might get one at the end of the year (hopefully school won’t notice)

27: what is your favorite color?Hmmm, probably purple

28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?Erm….unlikely

29: who are you texting?Currently no one. The last person I text in general was my sister lol

30: think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?They’re non existent!

31: have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?Yes, think I have a sixth sense or something. I know when people are being off with me, don’t like me, I can kinda guess if they’re lying or not telling me something.

32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?Nope! Don’t really have many friends anyway

33: do you think anyone has feelings for you?No, probably not. But if someone out there does, hiya! Make ya self known (although a relationship is probs the last thing I need rn)

34: has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?Nope! My eyes are small and so dark brown they’re nearly black so…

35: say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?Again, weird concept bc someone will be stood in front of me kissing no one?

36: were you single on valentines day?Of course I was? Have you noticed the pattern here?

37: are you friends with the last person you kissed?I’m going to continue to be sarcastic about this until the end you do realise?

38: what do your friends call you?My name? Mads or Maddie.

39: has anyone upset you in the last week?Idk, I’m upset a lot of the time anyway ahahah

40: have you ever cried over a text?Yep! I know ew

41: where’s your last bruise located?I’m not too sure? Probably my leg or something ahah

42: what is it from?Probably knocked it off a table or my bed lol

43: last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?Now :) contemplating changing my plans to get awayyyy (it won’t happen tho lol)

44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?Apparently my dad last week! You can tell I like never ring people.

45: do you have a favourite pair of shoes?Any of my trainers tbh. My trainers or another pair of shoes that idk what they’re called lol

46: do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?Na bc school. Can’t wear hats. Don’t really have any to wear anyway

47: would you ever go bald if it was the style?Probably not? Idk

48: do you make supper for your family?Nope!

49: does your bedroom have a door?It does but I barely close it?

50: top 3 web-pages?Idk. I don’t use a computer or laptop too often unless it’s for school stuff or Netflix

51: do you know anyone who hates shopping?Erm, probably. My dad likes food shopping but not like shopping shopping.

52: does anything on your body hurt?My shoulder, I pulled a muscle last night!

53: are goodbyes hard for you?Depends who it is and how long it’s for?

54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?Probably Coke :/

55: how is your hair?Erm, it’s good?? Idk what this questions really asking tbh?? It’s short and thick and kinda blond now??

56: what do you usually do first in the morning?Roll over. Then go on my phone when I pull myself together

57: do you think two people can last forever?I like to think yes. That there’s someone for everyone and all that. But people change and grow naturally so it’s easy for two people to move apart.

58: think back to january 2007, were you single?OF COURSE!?

59: green or purple grapes?Either I don’t mind. I eat purple grapes more bc that’s what my parents buy

60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?Idk

61: do you wish you were somewhere else right now?Erm yep

62: when will be the next time you text someone?Idk. Tonight, tomorrow? Normally it’s me texting my sister a video or smth

63: where will you be 5 hours from now?Asleep!

64: what were you doing at 8 this morning.Sleeping, I woke up just before 9.

65: this time last year, can you remember who you liked?No one. This time last year was difficult. Didn’t have time for that

66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?Yep! My two friends

67: did you kiss or hug anyone today?No. Did yesterday though

68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?“I feel so sick”

69: have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?Yeah of course I have? But then again, hasn’t everyone?

70: how many windows are open on your computer?Currently 0, I’m not on my computer.

71: how many fingers do you have?All 10 :)

72: what is your ringtone?Generic iPhone one

73: how old will you be in 5 months?Still 17…but I’ll nearly be 18

74: where is your mum right now?In the living room

75: why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?Bc they were a twat (I didn’t love them but said person fits this question best)

76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?Nope!

77: are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?Well, two people….I’m not going to get into this though

78: do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?Yes. Kinda links to the earlier twat

79: is there anyone you know with the name mike?Yep! One of teachers hahah

80: have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?No I don’t think so

81: how many people have you liked in the past three months?0

82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?Nope

83: will you talk to the person you like tonight?Nope, don’t like anyone

84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?Unlikely scenario but probably my best friend

85: if your bf/gf was into drugs would you care?Well…yeah I would if they’re killing themselves everyday?

86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?We got given the tickets for free off a group of lads!!

87: who was your last received call from?Sadly the doctors ahaha

88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?This screams butterfly effect to me….couldn’t

89: what is something you wish you had more of?Time? Energy? Confidence?

90: have you ever trusted someone too much?I have total trust issues. So probably :)

91: do you sleep with your window open?Occasionally

92: do you get along with girls?More than boys yeah. Idk. I haven’t found my people

93: are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?No?

94: does sex mean love?Apparently not to some

95: you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?Yeah? Bc I’m locked in a room by my fkn self

96: have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?:)))

97: did you sleep alone this week?Erm yeah every night?

98: everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?I guess yeah!

99: do you believe in love at first sight?I think it’s more lust? Or love with their looks/vibe? You can’t love a person by just looking at them

100: who was the last person that you pinky promise?Couldn’t tell you!

#long post #ask #anon #personal #it's finally done!

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thepalegoldmoon · 8 years ago

Text

Answers

so i was asked to answer all of these so here i gooooooo!!!!~… kms… ;u;

— 1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

uhhhhmmm i dont really hold hands cause i over heat and the get clammy easily, so the last person i “held hands”/ linked arms with was actually at Anime Boston with this rad dude Jay, we were cosplaying Keith and Lance from Voltron. it was a good day, but we were tired as fuck.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

kinda both depends on the situation and who im around tbh

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

in general or like famous??? uhhhmmm, if we’re going in general tbh me rad ass mate Jay cause why wouldnt I be looking forward to seeing this kid??? hes literally the best thing or person to see ever, duh! and if were going famous??? uhhhmmm music wise either Panic! At The Disco, TOP, orrrrr maybe a tie between some one from the Hamilton, or Heahters musicals.

4. Are you easy to get along with?

again depends on the situation and people. over all id say yeah in some way.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

uhmmm idk because we’d both probably be shit faced and tumbling over each other screaming, incoherently and laughing our asses off. While simultaneously getting into 20 different fights over cheese, bread, and cats. Then crying about video games and anime. probably in the midst of this we’d be laughing and patting each other’s back telling each other how good of a bro the other is an how we’re gonna take over the world by the sheer brute force of dogs and cats

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

uhhhhmmm i dont really have a type but there’s a guy i like alot whos my dream guy tbh, and to me hes perfect in alot and pretty much every single way. ºuº

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

probably not but its nice to hope and dream c:

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

either rn my friend Casey cause shes in spain this week for vacation or my childhood bestfriend Liz cause her birthday just pasted on april 7th and i havent seen her in years.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

depends on who im with and what exactly kinda stuff were talking about. but im always awkard af with everything so im always uncomftorble.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

mi boi Jay!!~ we tend to get into deep conversation alot. i enjoy it alot tbh hahaha.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

(when i got to this quesion)

WE WILL BE TRASH GODS!!!~

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

UHMMM pass cause honestly the whole entirety of Heathers and Hamilton pretty much.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

OMFG HELL YEAH I DO!!!!!!!~

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

yeah man thats always been something i believe in because i have the most terrible luck but i like to believe miracles have happened in my life.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

i started the change in my social life and i got a really rad friend through the beginning phase of it!

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

uhmmm ive only done pecks cause im fucking looser so that was Jay, so hell yeah i would man hahaha! (hes got a kissable face its nice alright, i swear im not this fucking awkward XD) ((and bro i know youll end up reading this. i love ya man!! i hope this isnt too bad lol~))

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

fuck yeah i do bro. i wanna befriend at least one of them tbh.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

not really cause the kid left after 5th grade and i never saw him again,

19. Do you like bubble baths?

fuck yes.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

i dont really talk to them haha.

21. What are you bad habits?

i have alot, talking to much and fighting HARD during a fight, and having the worst timing for smart ass comments, and trying to change things i cant change too much. theres more but thats a good few.

22. Where would you like to travel?

everywhere and anywhere tbh

23. Do you have trust issues?

a bit ive more developed them because of shitty people

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

either shower or the part where i come home and either draw, eat, play video games, get to text my boi, or where i get to sleep.

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

my nose, the corners of my mouth or my big toes.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

text my friend good morning or get up and play with my mouse for a few minutes

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

i enjoy my skin tone but i wish i could tan ith out burning although, ive always wanted to either be albino or see what its like to be darker.

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

either Jay, or my friend Casey

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

nope because i dont talk to them XD

30. Do you ever want to get married?

at some point maybe haha

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

almost but the sides and some of my bangs are just a teeny bit off from making it :u:

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

uhmm not really any tbh theyre all to much older than me

33. Spell your name with your chin.

alyxx/ nyxx

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

ew no but i like swimming and to go on walks for fun

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

thats hard cause i need both for background noise

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

not really, i dont think so

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

something really stupid and half the time really provocative

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

ahhhh hahaha well i dont really know because the guy im crushing on is my dream guy js. and if i were to try and describe him id butcher the amazing and astounding beauty of the real person to be honest

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

ahhhh idk, lush?? and anything with food tbh

40. What do you want to do after high school?

die, or move to salem WITCHever comes first -u0 lol (bad pun i know i know)

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

i belive in ALOT of chances tbh

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

either im tired, extremely sad/depressed, overthinking/ thinking, focusing, thinking how to reply something or im REALLY fucking pissed off at you for something.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

REALLY FUCKING AWKWARDLY AND IN REALLY FUCKING AWKWARD SITUATIONS

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

UHHHHHH BOTH!!!!!~ TF?

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

THE INPENDING FEAR AND DOOM OF CRIPPLING ANXIETY IF I MISS THE BUS OR if im hanging out wiht someone that day the motivation of not being alone in my room with myself for the whole day or so hahaha, or a con/ meet up which applies to friends.

46. What are you paranoid about?

AAAHAHAHAHAHA IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION???? fucking everything…

47. Have you ever been high?

yes

48. Have you ever been drunk?

buzzed not drunk

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

uhhh i dont think so im not really very secretive. maybe like PERSONAL shit but no

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Grey

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

a few times

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

uhmmm either eye color and nose Physically.and personality wise i wish i wasnt so stubborn tbh.

53. Favourite makeup brand?

lush is the closest thing to makeup i use hunny

54. Favourite store?

lush

55. Favourite blog?

@thedevilandhisfiddleofgold c;

56. Favourite colour?

Blue

57. Favourite food?

uhmmm theres too many to list, all?? except spicy

58. Last thing you ate?

a cracker with nutella on it

59. First thing you ate this morning?

a cinnamon powdered sugar doughnut

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

nope

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Suspending, accused of stealing shitty locker wallpaper panels. THAT I ACCTUALLY FUCKING HADNT ;U;

62. Been arrested? For what?

nope

63. Ever been in love?

YES ;-;

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

never fucking had one kiddies sorry no story time for this one

65. Are you hungry right now?

kinda i want chips

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

uhm my only tumblr friends are friends in real life so not really because how do you like someone more on tumblr than you like them in real life??? not like its impossible its just odd.

67. Facebook or Twitter?

neither tbh, i only use my facebook for my work schedule

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

TUMBLR

69. Are you watching tv right now?

yes i started 13 reasons why

70. Names of your bestfriends?

jay, casey, liz (ranked most to least interaction and tbh who ive talked to most recently, those other two loosers never text me)

71. Craving something? What?

chips, cookies, FOOD, and love, BUT MOSTLY FOOD RN

72. What colour are your towels?

we have mostly white and black towels but theyre all just multicolored

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

(im also counting my stuffed animals as pillows)

at least 11 tbh

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

(refer to last question)

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

75. Favourite animal?

wolf, fox, raven, snowleopard, cat, snake (i cant choose)

76. What colour is your underwear?

black like my soul bitch

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

birthday cake or cotton candy/ bubblegum

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

black

80. What colour pants?

dark grey

81. Favourite tv show?

uhmmmm Voltron or steven universe

82. Favourite movie?

heathers and the crow

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean Girls

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

havent seen the second one (refer to previous question)

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

the lebanese chick and the gay guy that were friends with lindsay lohan’s character

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

thats a hard question cause i love them all ;-;

87. First person you talked to today?

Jay (and caiden???) i sent a message to a group chat right after i woke up, i was pointed at Jay but theyre both in that chat

88. Last person you talked to today?

same chat

89. Name a person you hate?

ahha ahhahaha hahahaha, mmmmm theres alot

90. Name a person you love?

Jay, Casey, my pets

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

better question… is there not????

92. In a fight with someone?

i dont think so but im aboutabe casue they wont give me times on if theyre coming tomorrow or not ;-;

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

2 and a pair of sweat pants i made into shorts

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

hehehe at least 6 or 7. tbh my attack on titan one has been issing for a while and it makes me sad

95. Last movie you watched?

heathers, im not saying the technical last one cause it was gross as fuck and doe not count as a movie to me

96. Favourite actress?

ehhh hellena bonham carter

97. Favourite actor?

johnny depp

98. Do you tan a lot?

not really cause i burn and im afraid of getting skin cancer

99. Have any pets?

2 guinea PIGS and a mouse

100. How are you feeling?

alright kinda missing my friends and also kind anxious

101. Do you type fast?

depends on my mood, what im typing on, and about

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

so.. many… things…

103. Can you spell well?

fairly decently i think, average nothing over the top but i try haha

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

ehhh Liz and my friend Julia from Germany she was cool.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

nope

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

there was a girl named shannon who was all over me and head over heels for me, she mightve been a taurus. she tried to use some serious mental shit to try and get me to stay. i told her to seek professional help and not me.

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

nope

108. What should you be doing?

a 10 page paper and finishing final fantasy, and getting more loot boxes in overwatch

109. Is something irritating you right now?

not really knowing what to do with my senior paper, shop friends, being alone, and not having enough hours in the day and always being fucking tired.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

yes, i do right now, tbh, but its cool

111. Do you have trust issues?

this was already asked. slightly it depends on the person

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

no one, mentally and close to physiccally jay and caiden, but im always mentally crying. i dont physically cry if i do youre special, im not that soft.

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Ash

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

i was born in pittsburgh, pa. i lived in townsend, ma and i just recently moved to pepperrel, ma.

115. Do you play the Wii?

not any more

116. Are you listening to music right now?

not really

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

yes

118. Do you like Chinese food?

YAS

119. Favourite book?

how to make the perfect boy?? (its something like that) i also really enjoyed mrs. perigrines home for peculiar children.

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

im afraid of what might be in it

121. Are you mean?

i can be

122. Is cheating ever okay?

ew not wtf

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

probably not

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

kinda but only to an extent

125. Do you believe in true love?

again kinda but only to an extent tbh

126. Are you currently bored?

a bit

127. What makes you happy?

chilling with jay, playing wiht my animal or sleeping

128. Would you change your name?

i want to, im trying to get Alyxx as my name hahah but i have a genius way to keep ASH

129. What your zodiac sign?

GEMINI BIATCH!!!!~

130. Do you like subway?

yeah its alright

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

uhhhh hahah i already dated my childhood bestfriend. Liz was chill but id kindly turn her down

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

already answered this up top, but Jay

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

hmmmm i have too many tbh, id love to put one here but i cant think of a good one atm sorry my dudes

134. Can you count to one million?

maybe but im to lazy to fam

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

hahaha ive told too many to put those down

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

CLOSED OMFG NO #TRIGGERED

137. How tall are you?

5′5.25″ ( THAT QUARTER IS IMPORTANT ;u;, believe it or not i had=ve alot of friends that are taller than me)

138. Curly or Straight hair?

wavy-ish

139. Brunette or Blonde?

i myself am a “brunette”

140. Summer or Winter?

kinda both

141. Night or Day?

ehh more night but i enjoy both

142. Favourite month?

either, October, November, December, and i actually am not a fan of my birth month may haha

143. Are you a vegetarian?

nope but ive thought about becoming one to cleanse and to get in better shape kinda reasons

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

milk and white

145. Tea or Coffee?

both

146. Was today a good day?

ehhh kinda

147. Mars or Snickers?

snickers but i wanna try a mars bar

148. What’s your favourite quote?

hahah either

“ another fucking heather! -sighs- Our love is god let’s go get a slushie!”

-JD “Heathers”

( i relate most to the heather part tbh)

“ill hook ‘em…” “..and ill cook ‘em!”

-Roadhog and Junkrat “Overwatch”

( YEAH I KNOW IM TRASH BUT ITS A PRECIOUS QUOTE BETWEEN TO REALLY GOOD BEST MATES OKAY!!!??)

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

WHOLE HEARTEDLY, IVE SEEN THEM, IVE FELT THEM, IVE HEARD THEM, TALKED TO THEM, I RESPECT THE SHIT OUT OF THEM AND THEY ARE KINDA SLIGHTLY TERRIFYING BUT I LOVE THEM!

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“WOW MAGNUS, you’re probably thinking. That was… stupid!”

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard

#my asks #non anon

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