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nutsackx · 1 day ago

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POKÉMON X THE OUTSIDERS AU

info under images lol

if anyone reposts these like the cowboy or scientist au I’m deleting my whole account watch your bakc

I’m gonna preface this by saying I haven’t played or even really indulged in Pokémon for like… 7 years so forgive me if any of this is off or doesn’t make sense…

ANYWAY!!

Original gang is just the Curtis brothers. Ponyboy, after years of putting it off to put time into school, decides he’s finally ready to try being a Pokémon trainer (he’s a bit of a late bloomer, starting at 14 instead of ten…yikes). Usually, their father would’ve helped him on his journey….but he’s, dead, so.

Darry agrees to help him, eventually Soda gets dragged along too because he’s worried Pony and Darry fighting 24/7 will ruin the experience for Ponyboy. And, Soda, being a Pokémon ranger, has a lot more knowledge than even Darry about how to safely go about this.

First they come across Steve. Soda and him are already besties, of course. And they have kinda a rivalry going on where they are constantly tryin to one-up each other (all in good faith lmao). It’s not until Steve starts talking about how he started with Pokémon that Darry realizes just how different it was than when he was starting out. Steve agrees to come along, mainly saying he thinks Pony’s gonna get himself killed cus’ he SUCKS!!

After all the yada yada and defeating his first gym leader, Pony finds a dead Radicate and REFUSES to move on until they give the poor creature a proper burial. Since they’re already relatively close, Darry redirects the group to Lavender Town.

While inside Pokémon tower, they come across a decrepit, old, decaying black-belt class trainer (Mr.Miyagi ((yeah I put him in here, what are you gonna do about it?)),sorry for all the mean adjectives) who of course starts being an old man and going on and on about the boy he fosters there and how weird he’s acting lately (Darry refuses to interrupt because he RESPECTS HIS ELDERS!!!).

Mr.Miyagi admits that not being around people his age has probably messed with his development, practically calling the boy a hermit, and asks the guys to bring him along in exchange for a very strong Gengar (for Pony, ofc). Darry, upon hearing that the boy is a strong fighter and MUCH quieter then the rest of the freaks he’s dealing with, agrees.

They go from floor to floor looking for him, eventually finding a cloaked figure on some fuckass floor idk. It takes a minute but they’re like, damn, this hoe possessed! And they battle him, he’s hard to beat but they do it eventually, yada yada. Johnny then takes the hood off, apologizes profusely, and explains that he’s a channeler but not really good at his job yet. (also imagine him with the most fuckass stutter, like Shaky from rdr)

The guys inform him about their promise to Mr.Miyagi, Johnny’s upset for t-minus two minutes before he’s just like “whatever okay” and joins them. (Quickly becomes the favorite, ofc, because he can actually shut his damn mouth).

They move on to the next gym, yk how it goes…but yeah they come across a traveling circus. And you’ll NEVER GUESS WHO IS A CLOWN!!

So anyway, Clown-bit, we love him. They come across him, agree to fight so he’ll give them some food and pokeballs, and Pony beats his ASS.

They don’t really invite Two-Bit along (they think he’s annoying…who doesn’t?) but he just joins anyway. Imagine like constant clown puns. Also he and Johnny quickly take a liking to each other cus’ they’re both kinda outcasts of the group (Johnny’s known the guys for like, a week…and Two-bit Just showed up. Also, we need more Johnny and Two-Bit friend content so).

They keep going, Pony defeats a few more gym leaders, and takes notice that a lot of them seem to recognize someone on their team. When he askes, Johnny admits to being the son of one of the elite four. At first, Pony is thrilled by the info, until he pries a little more and realizes Johnny’s father was an abusive asshole and pretty much sent him away to Pokémon tower to force him into becoming a trainer. Yikes.

Anyway, on their journey they come across some UGLY blonde guy, like one of those biker trainer classes yk..? Anyway yeah it’s Dallas, shocker. He kinda just gets in their way and refuses to move until they ALL battle him. Obviously, they don’t wanna do that, a lot of work for some ugly freak (did I mention he’s ugly?).

They agree to let Ponyboy fight him, but he uh…loses. After a bit of back and forth Dallas agrees to let them go if they help him get to the Indigo Plateau in Kanto, so he can face off against the Elite Four there (his bike is old, cus yk…he’s poor.)

Darry at this point has an entire league of teenagers following him around, so he’s like what’s one more? And boom they move on.

I don’t have much planned out from here (this was all pulled from my ass anyway). Maybe the Shepards can be like…the Team Rocket of this AU?? And Soc’s are the gym leaders.

Also, Yeah Cherry and Marcia are both Kanto elite four cus I SAID SO!!! And uh…Johnny and Cherry are dating because it’s MY AU AND I DO WHAT I WANT!!!! She’s the breadwinner and that’s okay, we love her for it <3

twobit prolly falls in love with Marcia when he sees her but idk if she’d reciprocate with an actual clown. Mayeb Randy lowered her standards???

anyway. That is all. Might flesh this out more if the obsession grows, or it’ll die in a week like the Crazy Scientist stuff. Oh well!

EXPLANATION OF DESIGNS/MORE INFO—

Ponyboy

CLASS: Youngster

Ngl his design took very little time…..oops

his cap hides a really bad dye job, and he refuses to take it off

He chose squirtle as his starter, idrk why but squirtle just suits him. Maybe cus he almost drowned!!

Would’ve fought to the DEATH if he didn’t get squirtle. This boy knows what he wants

He has a little pokeball necklace that his mom got him as a joke, will kill someone for it

He deffo has a really nerdy messenger bag that he keeps all of his stuff in

He’s scared of his own Beedrill

He does NOT need those glasses. But he likes them becuase he thinks they make him look more professional (everyone can tell they’re blue light glasses)

Sodapop

CLASS: Pokémon Ranger

LOVES his job and therefore is almost always seen in uniform

he loves electric/steel type Pokémon cus they reminds him of cars, so his hair is usually sticking up because of static electricity

has a whistle, but Darrel stole it and tossed it into the forest VERY early into the journey

yellow is his favorite color cus I said so

Raichu is his PRIZED Pokémon

He’s kinda like Snow White the Pokémon love him

His Flareon and Johnny’s Espeon are best friends

Darrel

CLASS: Veteran

Wanted to be a football player, but couldn’t because that wouldn’t keep the family afloat, that’s why his outfit has the numbers on it.

Lot of scars, some from football and some from his days as a trainer

His outfit used to have sleeves, but he found them annoying and just shopped them off one day

Always keeps the spare pokeballs on him

In highschool he had his hair grown out, but chopped it after their folks died because his father was always trying to get him to cut it

I don’t really have a backstory for his necklace, buts it fire okay

Treats his Pokémon VERY well, if there was a trainer rating website he would be top 5

Picks his Pokémon based on size and strength

Two-Bit

CLASS: CLOWN

Obviously he’s a clown so, that explains the outfit

NEVER seen without the makeup, even when it rains or he’s sleeping…that stuff is ON THERE

He has false lashes on his waterline, and yes they’re pink

He is incapable of being quiet because of all the bells

The hat doesn’t come off. if it did his hair under there would be hella matted

All of Two’s Pokémon are just as annoying as he is, he hides earplugs in his shoes for people (they never take them)

FATASS can and will eat anything in sight

Mr.Mime is his favorite of all his Pokémon��.they ate both annoying together and everyone hates them for it

Johnny

CLASS: Channeler

the scar on his eye is from his father 😬 from when he figured out Miyagi wasn’t actually training him to be the next member of the Elite Four…. the eye is blue because of some psychic shit idk

His outfit is from Miyagi entirely, the sleeves used to be connected, but he found it too annoying to fight in those so he tore them (Miyagi was secretly VERY unsettled)

If you look really closely he has purple eyeliner

Johnny refuses to cut his hair, so it’s usually in a braid to be out of his way, he lets it down sometimes

He has the little flower charm connected to his belt…what a cutie

His hood is actually up a LOT, most of the time his face is obscured

There’s flames on his sleeve….wonder why (not the reason you think okay. His father was a fire type trainer…JOHNNY LIVES IN THIS AU OKAY.)

also the metal things around his arm are like…incredibly heavy. Mr.Miyagi put them in originally so he could build muscle while doing everyday things, but Johnny insists on keeping the on forever.

Loves all of his Pokémon equally, and they love him back. Always has atleast one out of their Pokeball so he doesn’t get lonely….my baby

He doesn’t even like the color purple that much it’s just kinda his thing now

Pokémon FLOCK to this man

Dallas

CLASS: Biker

Tore the sleeves off of his jacket as well…they really like doing that

YELLOW teeth and GREASY hair he does not take care of himself

Really likes dog-looking Pokémon

Has an empty slot because one of his Pokémon just DIED LMAO (idk which one. Oh well)

Has rips in his jeans, does not plan on fixing it

Hand-carved his belt buckle. The ‘win’ in Winston is underlined. Ignore the fact that this idiot keeps fucking losing

The bandages are protecting nothing. He thinks it makes him look cool

Pokémon are revolted by him. Like, his own literally hate him.

Steve

Class: Hooligan

kind of an ass, but he looks cool

any cutscene of him he’s making sure his hair is still spiked trust

loves steel type Pokémon because…cars

his favorite color is green, making any green Pokémon his all time favorite

for being a little shit, he treats his Pokémon rather well

has studs ALL over his back, once leaned back on Soda and has never heard the end of the pain he caused

he has a tongue piercing….so….

when the gang is lacking resources, he and Dallas are the first to steal

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soulofapatrick · 1 day ago

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I'm Not Watching You - Ridoc Gamlyn x Female Reader

Summary: Ridoc catches you staring at him

Warnings: fluff; flirting; implied smut to happen

Words: 2.7K

Notes: I can do a smutty part two hehehe

Y/N’s POV

The dining hall at Basgiath buzzes with the chaotic symphony of clinking goblets, hearty laughter, and the metallic scrape of knives against plates. The air smells of roasted meat and spiced ale, mingling with the smoky scent of the torches lining the walls. Our squad claims one end of a long wooden table near the center of the room. Despite the cacophony, our corner feels lighter than usual, celebratory even. We’ve made it through another week of training—still breathing, still together—and that alone feels like something worth toasting.

Ridoc Gamlyn sits across from me, lounging in his chair like the rules of gravity don’t apply to him. His brown skin glows in the warm light of the torches, and his floppy brown hair—forever unruly—falls into his face no matter how often he shoves it back. There’s a spark in his dark eyes, a mischief that matches the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s spinning a fork between his fingers, the casual rhythm oddly mesmerising, and I find myself staring.

Big mistake.

“You’ve been staring at me all night, love,” Ridoc drawls, his voice cutting through the din with effortless precision. He sets the fork down with a deliberate clink and leans forward, the gleam in his eyes making my stomach twist. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

I stiffen, heat rising to my cheeks as I scramble for a response. “I’m not staring at you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, his expression dripping with faux innocence. “Oh? Then who were you looking at? Barlowe? Imogen?” He grins, leaning even closer, his head tilting just enough for that ridiculous mop of hair to flop sideways. “Or maybe you’ve finally realised how devastatingly handsome I look in candlelight.”

I snort, rolling my eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. “Candlelight? What century do you think this is?”

“It’s called ambiance, darling,” Ridoc says, completely unfazed. He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the flickering torches. “Something you clearly haven’t learned to appreciate.”

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, shoving a piece of bread into my mouth to keep from smiling.

Ridoc notices anyway—because of course he does—and his smirk transforms into a triumphant grin. “Ah, there it is. You’re smiling. That counts as a win for me.”

“It doesn’t,” I shoot back, though the words lack conviction.

“Sure it does,” he says, sitting back again with the kind of casual confidence that sets my teeth on edge. His chair creaks dangerously under his weight, but he doesn’t seem to care. “I always win.”

Imogen, seated a few spots down, snickers and raises her goblet in our direction. “Ridoc, leave her alone before she stabs you with her dinner knife.”

Ridoc’s grin widens. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried,” he says, winking at me.

I groan and pick up my cup of water, draining it in one long sip to avoid saying something I’ll regret. He’s relentless, a constant thorn in my side—and yet, for reasons I can’t fully understand, I don’t hate it.

As the night wears on, the squad’s conversations shift to trading stories from the week. Close calls in training, spectacular failures during drills, and ridiculous mistakes that somehow didn’t get anyone killed. Ridoc’s quick wit earns plenty of laughs, but I can’t help noticing how his gaze keeps flickering back to me, as if checking to see if I’m still paying attention.

It’s maddening.

I hate how aware I am of him—the way his laughter sends a strange ache through my chest, the way his teasing feels oddly personal, like it’s meant for me and no one else.

Eventually, the others start drifting away, one by one, until it’s just Ridoc and me left at the table. The noise of the dining hall fades to a distant hum, leaving an almost intimate stillness between us.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Ridoc says, his voice softer now, the usual teasing edge absent. He rests his elbows on the table, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm against the wood.

I shrug, unsure how to respond. “Just thinking about the squad. How lucky we’ve been.”

Ridoc nods, his expression unusually thoughtful. “Yeah. Not everyone’s got what we have. Iron Squad’s something special.”

He pauses, his fingers stilling as he meets my gaze. “And so are you, you know.”

I blink, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, his tone lighter now, though his eyes stay serious. “You’re sharp. Fierce. And you keep me on my toes, which I appreciate more than I probably should.”

My stomach twists again, and this time I know it’s not from the wine. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” I manage, my voice quieter than I’d like.

Ridoc grins, but it’s softer now, lacking the usual bravado. “It’s a compliment. Trust me.”

For once, I think he might actually mean it.

He stands abruptly, pushing his chair back with a scrape that echoes through the nearly empty hall. “Get some rest, love,” he says, tipping an imaginary hat before turning to leave.

I should let him go—I really should—but the words spill out before I can stop them. “Wait.”

Ridoc pauses, glancing back over his shoulder with a curious tilt of his head. “What’s this? You actually want me to stay?”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the rapid thudding of my heart. “Don’t make it weird, Gamlyn.”

His smirk returns, slow and deliberate, as he steps closer. “Too late. But I’ll bite—what is it?”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come. The tension between us feels electric, crackling in the air like a storm about to break.

Ridoc stops just in front of me, close enough that I can see the faint freckles dusting his nose and the way his dark eyes gleam in the low light. His gaze drops briefly to my lips before flicking back up to meet mine.

“Say the word, and I’ll leave,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “But if you don’t…”

I don’t let him finish.

Before I can second-guess myself, I grab the front of his jacket and pull him down. Our lips collide, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist. He’s warm and solid, his hands finding my waist as he kisses me back with a fierceness that takes my breath away.

When we finally break apart, I’m left gasping, my pulse pounding in my ears. Ridoc’s smirk is gone, replaced by something softer, something real.

“Well,” he says, his forehead resting lightly against mine. “That was unexpected.”

“Shut up, Ridoc,” I whisper, but there’s no bite to the words.

His grin returns, bright and genuine. “You know, I could get used to this.”

“Don’t push your luck,” I warn, though I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Ridoc chuckles, his thumb brushing softly against my side. “Too late.”

And just like that, everything shifts. It’s still us—but better. Something new, something I’m not sure I want to let go of.

The dining hall feels distant now, the noise fading into a comforting hum as Ridoc’s hand lingers on my waist. His touch is warm, grounding in a way that makes me want to lean in, even as my brain screams at me to step back. I shouldn’t feel this way—not about him—but there’s something disarming about the way his eyes meet mine, steady and unguarded.

“You’re staring now,” I manage, my voice softer than intended, like I’m trying to break the tension without shattering it completely.

Ridoc chuckles, low and quiet, his thumb tracing idle circles against my side. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes,” I reply, though the word falters, betraying the conviction I wish I had.

His smirk softens, and for once, it’s free of his usual bravado. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he murmurs, and the way he says it feels less like teasing and more like truth.

“Ridoc…” I warn, though it comes out weak, almost breathless.

“Alright, alright.” He steps back slightly, giving me space but not entirely letting go. His hands hover, like he’s not quite ready to lose the connection. “I’ll behave. For now.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. “That’s a first.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he fires back, the grin creeping back onto his face. “I make no promises.”

I roll my eyes, but the smile I’m fighting slips through anyway. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, tilting his head with mock innocence, “you kissed me. Funny how that works.”

Heat floods my face, and I shove lightly at his chest. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Ridoc laughs, his gaze bright and alive with something I can’t name. “Not a chance, love.”

The easy banter fades into a quiet moment, the kind that feels heavier than it should. Ridoc shifts, his confidence softening at the edges as he glances down at our hands, his fingers brushing against mine. “Dinner tomorrow?” he asks, the question casual but his tone anything but.

I blink, caught off guard. “You’re asking me on a date?”

His grin is still there, but it’s gentler now, almost shy. “I mean, we’ve already kissed. Might as well see where this goes.”

Something in his sincerity makes my chest tighten. Ridoc, insufferable flirt and relentless tease, is suddenly serious in a way that feels terrifying and exciting all at once. I hesitate, the weight of the moment pressing against me, before finally nodding.

“Fine,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “But if you bring up candlelight even once, I’m stabbing you with a dinner knife.”

Ridoc’s laugh is warm and unapologetic as he takes my hand, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. “Noted.”

Ridoc falls into step beside me, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as we make our way down the dimly lit hallway. The flickering torches on the walls cast long shadows, but his presence is anything but subtle. He walks so close that our arms brush every few steps, and the air between us seems to hum with a tension neither of us is quite ready to name.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he drawls, his tone lazy, like he’s savouring the moment. “Planning your next move? Or just imagining all the ways you’re going to stab me with a dinner knife?”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, trying not to smile. “Maybe both.”

He chuckles, low and warm, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “You’ve got quite the imagination. Should I be flattered that I’ve taken up so much space in that pretty little head of yours?”

I roll my eyes, though the corners of my mouth betray me by twitching upward. “It’s less ‘taking up space’ and more ‘annoying squatter I can’t evict.’”

Ridoc places a hand over his heart, feigning a wounded expression. “Ouch. And here I thought we were making progress. Guess I’ll have to work harder.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” I retort, though the playful edge in my voice robs the words of any real sting.

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Oh, I won’t. You’re worth the effort.”

That makes me falter, my breath hitching just enough for him to notice. His grin widens, and I hate that he catches every little crack in my defences. It’s like he’s made a game out of unraveling me, and worse, he’s annoyingly good at it.

By the time we reach my door, the weight of the moment feels heavier, charged with something that wasn’t there before—or maybe it was, and I’d just been ignoring it. I stop in front of the wooden frame, my hand hovering over the doorknob as I try to decide if I’m ready to let this—whatever this is—go any further.

Ridoc leans casually against the doorframe, his body angled toward me, his hand braced above my head. He’s so close now that I can feel the heat radiating off him, and I have to fight the urge to step back—or closer. His gaze searches mine, the teasing glint in his eyes tempered by something softer, more sincere.

“You’re staring again,” I say quietly, trying to regain some semblance of control.

He doesn’t flinch. “Maybe I am. Can you blame me?”

I open my mouth to answer, but the words get stuck in my throat when his free hand comes up to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger at my jaw, his touch warm and grounding, and suddenly the door at my back feels like the only thing keeping me upright.

“You should stop,” I manage to say, though my voice wavers.

His lips curve into a soft, knowing smile. “Do you really want me to?”

Damn him. Damn the way he looks at me, like he’s seeing something no one else does. Like he’s daring me to stop hiding and meet him halfway. My silence is answer enough, and his gaze flickers down to my lips for just a moment before returning to my eyes.

“I should probably say goodnight,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t move an inch. “But I don’t really want to.”

“Then don’t,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

That’s all the permission he needs. Ridoc closes the gap between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that’s as infuriatingly confident as he is. His hand slides to my waist, pulling me flush against him, and the intensity of it steals the breath from my lungs. There’s nothing tentative about the way he kisses me; it’s all heat and certainty, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have.

I fist my hands in the front of his shirt, anchoring myself as the world tilts beneath my feet. He kisses me like he has all the time in the world, his lips moving against mine with a maddening mixture of tenderness and hunger. When his tongue brushes against mine, I gasp softly, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his grip on my waist tightening.

By the time we break apart, we’re both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting together. Ridoc’s eyes are darker now, his smirk gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “You know that?”

I let out a shaky laugh, trying to ignore the rapid pounding of my heart. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward, but there’s an earnestness in his expression that takes me off guard. He raises his hand, his thumb brushing softly along my jawline. “So… do I get to come inside, or are you going to make me sleep in the hallway after that?”

I arch a brow, reaching for the door handle behind me. “You’re awfully confident for someone who’s pushing their luck.”

“It’s part of my charm,” he says with a wink, though the way his eyes flicker down to my lips betrays just how much he’s hedging his bets.

Instead of answering, I twist the doorknob and push the door open, the wood creaking softly. His smirk falters for half a second, replaced by genuine surprise, but I don’t give him a chance to recover. I grab the front of his shirt and tug him inside, the door clicking shut behind us.

His hands are on me in an instant, his lips finding mine again with renewed fervour. This time, there’s no hesitation, no testing the waters. It’s all fire and heat, the kind of kiss that leaves no room for second-guessing. His hands slide down my back, pulling me even closer, and I let myself get lost in him, in the way he kisses me like I’m the only thing that matters.

“Shut up, Ridoc,” I whisper against his lips, and for once, he actually listens.

Part Two Here ⇒ You Can Watch Me

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

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strawberryhotlips · 1 day ago

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༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word Count: 5.3k

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 - )

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hi beautiful people!! I'm back with the third chap of this story. It took me almost five days to write it, but here it is finally!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!! Xoxo, aby..

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

"I will kill you..."

Fuck, you couldn't have been any clearer with your words. If they made you the slightest bit suspicious, you would blow their heads off. And as much as you had said before that you didn't want to kill them, if they gave you reason even after your warning, you would have no choice.

After that, you had simply thrown some clothes at them, muttering a "take a bath and clean up this mess," pointing to the wet and muddy floor, and then disappeared upstairs.

You had locked yourself in your room (literally) because you had locked the lock with a homemade key that you had made at the beginning of all this when you didn't feel safe even in your room and felt the need to lock it. You had no energy for anything else, and that night you just lay in your bed, hoping to be alive the next day, while you heard little murmurs on the first floor, and also heard the boys walking around, probably cleaning up.

After a few minutes, surprisingly, you managed to fall asleep. ....

----------

The seven men in your house had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before, they had been able to bathe properly and clean up as you had asked, but the fact of their new reality, living with you, the last remaining woman, had not let them rest properly.

And now it was a whole new reality that they had to adjust to, but damn it, it was so hard knowing that you were sleeping one floor away. They had you so close but so far away at the same time that it was almost impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep because there was something going on in their heads that would not leave them alone....

you

your existence, your presence, even the ghost of your perfume that had lingered in the living room and how you had confronted them so powerfully the night before. It was just you.

The next morning, the smell of cooking woke you from your sleep. Hell, you knew how to cook, but you hadn't smelled anything that tasty in years. That meant only one thing, one of the boys was using your kitchen, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious.

You replaced your pajamas with a pair of jogging pants and a tight, slightly short, long-sleeved t-shirt that revealed the delicate little metal that adorned your belly button. You combed your hair a little, and in the bathroom of your room you brushed your teeth and washed your face. Little things in your daily routine that you were still allowed to do.

You put your gun in your makeshift gun belt and unlocked the door to your room. What you didn't expect when you walked out was to see two of the boys sitting against the wall on either side of your door, asleep. Their expressions were unreadable as you looked at them doubtfully, now that you could see them better in the morning sunlight. Their features were relaxed, a stark contrast to how tense they had been the night before, they were wearing the clothes you had thrown at them, and they really were attractive men, but then again, you couldn't stop and thinking about that now.

With a sigh, you looked at them for a few more seconds before shaking your head and walking down the hall to the stairs. You didn't bother to wake them, figuring that if they slept so much, it was because their bodies needed it. Besides, the tension of the night before and the discovery that there was still a woman alive must have exhausted them.

When you reached the first floor after descending the stairs, you could visualize four more guys, scattered randomly on the couch in your living room, also completely asleep. You remembered two of them, one of them you had pointed the gun at and the other was the arrogant shameless jackass, yes, you remembered him very well and now his cute sleeping face had not a hint of arrogance, being able to fool anyone with that appearance of fake innocence.

Well, maybe you were being a bit dramatic but in your defense he had been a jerk to you.

Rolling your eyes at the memory, the delicious smell of food grew stronger as you walked through the living room. You could hear the small clink of the frying pan and the snap of something frying as you approached the kitchen.

When you finally got there, you could see the missing boy, obviously cooking, he hadn't noticed your presence yet, so you decided to lean against the door frame with your arms crossed and a serious expression on your face.

"Morning..." you finally spoke, your voice devoid of emotion as you watched him jump in surprise, "Shit...you scared me..." he turned to you with his eyes a little wide and a hand on his chest in shock as he tried to calm his slightly accelerated breathing.

You almost laughed at the scene but decided to keep your expression serious as you watched him intently. He looked at you for a second and then quickly looked back to the frying pan where he was cooking scrambled eggs while he cleared his throat, "So you're up already?" you could swear he was pretty nervous from the way his body was tense and the silly question he had asked since you were literally standing in front of him.

This was going to be fun.

"Jay, right?..." you clearly remembered his name because that cheeky idiot had called him that the night before as you shushed him, "yeaah, I'm starting to think you're paid to ask stupid questions..." there was a lot of seriousness in your voice as you deliberately gave him a glare, raising both your eyebrows as you watched him open his mouth to try and answer, but he just couldn't.

You remembered his name

and it sounded so beautiful coming out of your lips and it made Jay's head spin a little. Because he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of you, but your presence only, made it difficult.

You spoke again, meeting his gaze, "May I ask what you are doing in my kitchen?" your eyes had a little gleam of amusement in them now, but your voice was still deadly serious.

Jay looked at you and then at the ladle in his hand that he was using to cook, "w-well...i was making the...breakfast..." he cleared his throat again as you heard him stutter. You nodded as a sound of mock approval passed through your throat, "with my food..." you replied as you shook your head in acknowledgement, pointing to the eggs in the pan.

Your eyes never left his fake calm expression, his body language and voice clearly betraying the nervousness he was trying to hide in your presence.

"Uhu..it's just that I thought you'd all be hungry when you woke up, s-so i thought it would be a good idea to have breakfast ready..." he cursed himself for stuttering so much, damn, instead of a man he looked like a teenager dealing with puberty.

"Ahem..." you let the silence fill the kitchen air with anticipation, you kept looking at him wordlessly and Jay could swear he felt smaller and smaller under your gaze.

And fuck, he literally hadn't done anything wrong, yet your eyes seemed to judge the depths of his soul as the tension was suffocating in the deafening silence, and he hadn't missed the gun you seemed to always carry with you.

You didn't trust them

That was Jay's conclusion and it was obvious, who would in a situation like yours? he couldn't, nor did he have the right to blame you for judging his every move, after all it was basically you against the world.

You, on the other hand, were having quite a bit of fun deliberately making him nervous, curious to see how he would react and how the mere fact of talking to him or making him so nervous would make you wonder if you would have the same effect on the other guys as well.

"You know...I divided the food into portions..." you commented after a few seconds of silence that seemed like an eternity to Jay. At your words, his eyes immediately met yours and he blinked several times, thinking about what to say.

Fuck, he hadn't thought of that, of course, a day ago it was just you, you only had to worry about what you were going to eat, but now with the arrival of the seven of them, the picture as to how long the meal would last was completely different and Jay had overlooked that.

"Next time, ask me before you take my food, even if you have to break down my bedroom door and wake me up, ask me first, is that clear?" your voice was a little more relaxed now, but with the same seriousness as you pulled yourself away from the door frame to move a little closer to the oven where Jay was cooking.

He nodded immediately at your clear command, because yeah, it was a command, no room for argument in your words, "Sure, of course, it won't happen again..." he turned his head to look at you again and was surprised to see you closer than before, swallowing hard as he tried to hold your piercing gaze as he watched you nod at his statement.

"Speaking of my room, who are the two clowns sleeping on my doorstep like they were camping?" your question caught Jay off guard as he stopped cooking for a few seconds and stared at the frying pan, then closed his eyes, frowning and denying in frustration.

Those idiots!

He let out a sigh and then opened his eyes, finally turning off the oven. He slowly turned to you with a flushed face as he seemed to be searching for words to say, "Sorry, I didn't think they mean it when they said they would sleep outside your room..." he licked his lips as he served the scrambled eggs on different plates, "The black haired one is Ni-ki and the gray haired one is Jake..." you finally knew who was who and you laughed inwardly as you saw Jay fighting with himself not to go and wake them both.

"Oh...they thought it would be a good idea to stand guard outside my room..." you said, pressing the buttons even harder as Jay got redder by the second. He ran his hand over his face in frustration, "I'm really sorry...Ni-ki is the youngest of the group and Jake always goes along with his nonsense..." he let out another sigh as he finished his words, apologizing on behalf of his friends.

So Ni-ki and Jake were the reason why everyone was here now. You wondered what had gone through their heads to dare to escape in the middle of the night, not only breaking the curfew and putting themselves in danger, but also being chased by the police.

A few more minutes and they could have caught them, they could have caught you.

The smell of bacon brought you out of your thoughts as for the first time you showed an expression as you watched Jay place it on the plates, next to the scrambled eggs. "You used the bacon Jay, it was saved for special occasions, there were only three packages left and you used them..." your tone was accusatory as your eyes, a little wider than usual, shifted from Jay to the bacon on the plates, repeatedly.

Jay immediately widened his eyes when he heard you and seemed to panic as he realized the implication of your words and began to ramble, "I-I'm so sorry...I had no idea, fuck...I didn't mean it. We can still buy more, I swear I'll replace them and leave everything as it was-..." you cut him off as a few specific words caught your attention.

Uh, buy more? What the fuck did he mean?

"What do you mean, buy more?" your question came out with a mixed tone of annoyance and disbelief "Do you have a job? or money?" your lack of understanding was reflected in every word you said as you looked at Jay for answers.

how could he possibly have a job if only essential services were still running? was he part of any essential services? because if he was, you were screwed. The Essential Services worked with the government, who had offered a billion dollar reward if one of their workers found a woman and gave her to them so they could experience the repopulation of the world with her.

"N-no, I don't have a job…" Jay hurried to speak when he saw your panicked face and how your hand had unconsciously gone to your gun, your expression hardened at his words, you wanted answers and you wanted them now "My father, he was doing very well in business and he left the inheritance to me since i'm an only child..." he clarified the situation quickly but you continued to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"What happened to him, he didn't want to be a millionaire overnight by giving everything to his beloved son?" the sarcasm and annoyance was clear in your voice full of suspicion as you questioned him without measuring your words and that's when Jay's expression changed.

He swallowed as his eyes, now filled with what seemed to be sadness, longing, and frustration, looked at you for a few seconds, only for you to notice that they were filled with...tears...

Oh..

He was going to cry?

"When my mother died from the virus, at the beginning of it all...my father could only hold on to life for a few more months before he decided to give up and go with her...a-and...and...i saw it all..." shit, why did you have to be so loose with your tongue? Jay had lost his parents, who were the only family he had, and not only that, he had to witness his father's suicide, fuck, that must have been really traumatic and fucking painful.

You immediately took your hand away from your gun and looked at him with empathy, you too had lost your whole family, the pain was unbearable and you couldn't imagine his, but, in a way, you shared the same pain, having lost your families...

The boys were all the family he had left

And not just Jay, all seven of them must feel the same way, they had all lost a lot and they recognized each other as the only family they had left. Then in that moment you understood, no matter what big trust issues you had towards them, they were human beings, just like you, they were fragile, just like you, they had lost everything, just like you, and the only thing they were clinging to was the hope that somehow it would get better, they didn't even know where it came from, but they were hoping that all their suffering had not been in vain

just like you

And then, without knowing what to say, you raised one of your hands and placed it gently on one of Jay's shoulders. He took a deep breath as he felt your touch, something that had become immeasurably distant, but that he hadn't realized he was missing until now, the comfort. His eyes, crystallized with unshed tears, looked sideways at your hand on his shoulder before they slid down his cheeks of their own accord, unbidden and silent.

Your heart squeezed at the sight of his crying, at the realization that he allowed himself to be vulnerable in a world where vulnerability killed you "Jay...I...I'm so sorry..." those were the only words your head allowed to leave your lips, but it was enough to express in your now soft and delicate voice that you both shared the same fucking pain.

Jay was overwhelmed for a moment, your words, as simple as they were, brought him a comfort he needed long ago, and that was enough for him to have his arms wrapped around your waist from one moment to the next, pulling your body into an almost trembling embrace that he seemed to need so desperately, an embrace that screamed how much he needed the contact, the affection, the containment and the relief.

For a few seconds your body couldn't react and you were paralyzed. You hadn't had this kind of direct contact in years and it was something that took you and your head by surprise. You felt Jay hide his face in your neck almost instinctively and his tears began to flow more abundantly as he clung to you as if his life depended on it.

It struck you as odd, like, yeah, you understood that the memory of the loss of his family would cause him so much pain, but you had become so used to suppressing your emotions that it was unusual for you to see such a vulnerable and fragile man clinging to you. But after a few seconds of processing the situation, you realized that his crying was not only because he had lost his family, it was also because of the weight that had been on his back all these years, you realized that surely he had also had to suppress what he was feeling, and finding you and being in your arms now was an instant relief and a great weight that he no longer had on his back.

His cry was a liberating one

One that spoke of how much he had endured over time and that he had finally found the relief he had been so desperately waiting for. Then, understanding this, you slowly let your arms wrap around his shoulders, finally returning his embrace as his body visibly relaxed under your gentle touch. Leaving your suspicion behind, you decided to give him a moment of comfort, and decided to listen to the human part of you instead of the rational part.

Heart over brain

Jay couldn't quite process what was going on, he only understood that you had welcomed his distress, that you hadn't taken him away from you, and that he inevitably found overwhelming comfort in your arms. Your scent soothed him, causing him to breathe shakily into the crook of your neck as his cry was silenced. Clinging to you, to your small waist and feeling the warmth of your body against his, helped him to calm down and understand that he was no longer alone, that he could express himself and act like a human being, at least with you.

Your chest felt tight, a shiver ran down your spine as you felt the slight trembling in Jay's body, but it diminished as the minutes passed, until finally you could no longer feel his tears soaking your shirt, and his once shaky breathing had been replaced by a soft and slower one. His crying had stopped, but he wasn't letting go and didn't seem to want to for the foreseeable future.

That is, until a clearing of the throat caused the two of you to abruptly separate for some reason. You turned to where the voice was coming from and your brow furrowed in annoyance as you saw the idiot in the kitchen door frame.

Right, 'the idiot' was your name for him.

He looked at you and then at Jay with an expression you couldn't quite understand, his eyes narrowed and his jaw visibly clenched "bravo.... you were really fast Jay...you got to her before any of us..." his tone was contemptuous, bordering on desperate as he made that ridiculous claim.

Jay on the other hand was sniffling and still looking at him with red eyes with obvious annoyance, "What the fuck, Heeseung Hyung, what kind of bullshit approach is that?..." the anger was clear in his voice as he snapped at him.

So 'the idiot' called himself Heeseung.

You raised an eyebrow at the situation and then sighed, really, what the hell was he trying to imply?

Heeseung had been awakened by the distant smell of scrambled eggs and bacon, his stomach growling with hunger and he just got up from the couch and followed the smell to the kitchen, but he didn't expect what he would find: You and Jay, hugging, obviously very close to each other.

His blood immediately and almost inevitably boiled with envy and jealousy, he knew you weren't an object, but he didn't like the idea of seeing his friends touching you in the slightest, and that was very clear to him:

Heeseung wanted you for himself

and the thought of having to share you with his other six friends was really hard for him to accept. Well, not only for him, the seven of them were extremely territorial and the situation could only get worse 'cause you were the only woman left, but hell, how could he even pretend to get to you when he was acting like a complete idiot?

Heeseung let out an unfunny laugh as he looked at Jay, the tension in the kitchen air was intense "Who do you think you are Jay, you think you have the right to touch her?" Jay frowned in annoyance at Heeseung's accusatory tone "Give it up dude...she's not a fucking object and she doesn't belong to you..." the complaint in Jay's voice was clear as your eyes shifted from him to Heeseung in disbelief.

Is this for real? they were making a jealous scene right in front of you.

"Hey stop talking shit, both of you..." the soft voice you had used with Jay before had been replaced by a cold and cutting tone "I don't belong to anyone and in case you haven't noticed..I'm right here, damn it..." now you were annoyed, really. The moment of consolation with Jay had been nice, but the fact that they were now acting like dogs fighting over meat didn't fucking amuse you at all and seemed hypocritical.

Heeseung and Jay seemed to be in a heated duel of glances, and fuck, if looks could kill, you thought they'd both be ten meters underground long ago, they both seemed to be about to say something, but your angry footsteps coming out of the kitchen made them both shut up.

Your angry footsteps echoed through the living room and down the stairs, and then there was a loud slamming of the door. You had locked yourself in your room. Heeseung and Jay could clearly feel your anger, so they were about to start fighting again, because the rivalry for your attention had already begun.

"Enough..." Jungwon's cold and cutting voice echoed in the kitchen, cutting off every word that came out of his elders' mouths. He walked into the kitchen, sipping a glass of water as if it was his home, then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, finally turning his gaze to Heeseung and Jay.

"Shame on you, you're the most grown up of the group..." his voice was cold as he clenched his jaw in clear annoyance "What do you want to achieve by behaving like this?...you're going to scare her away and get her to throw us all out on the street.... " He sighed as he shook his head disapprovingly, "We've only been here one night, not even a full day, and you're already fighting to see which one of you gets her attention first? very mature of you, really..." the sarcasm and annoyance were very clear in his firm and cutting voice.

The air was suffocating for both Heeseung and Jay, because when Jungwon was serious and even more so when he was angry, it was scary, so much so that neither of them could look him in the eyes, even if their expressions were hard, even if they were annoyed and even if they had the urge to answer him, neither of them did it "Let this shit not happen again, we don't want to scare her, we want to make her feel comfortable and gain her trust..." his statement was firm, leaving no room for retorts "You two brag about how much sex you had but you have no fucking idea how to treat a woman...", A dry laugh without a hint of grace left his lips, to which Heeseung and Jay only sigh and nod slightly at Jungwon's cutting words, and that was enough for him to drop the subject and leave the kitchen, but not before giving them both a warning look and taking one of the plates of egg and bacon.

---------

It was something that really made you angry. Because you hadn't allowed them to stay to be treated like a damned object, but on the other hand, you felt desired. Even though you knew that it was something inevitable because there were no more women to desire, something inside you felt good about it, something about possessiveness and jealousy made you sigh, not in anger but in satisfaction. You didn't think you were a person with a twisted mind, or at least you didn't give that image. But you were frustrated and pleased at the same time that they couldn't take more than a whole day to start fighting over you.

You knew it was going to happen eventually, they were men around your age, all damn attractive, so you suspected they'd never been rejected by women before, and you were also very attractive as far as you were concerned. So it wasn't surprising that they were jealous or fought over you, but you didn't expect them to let it show so quickly. Even though you didn't want to let them off so easily, it was clear that you didn't trust them yet and that you needed to get to know them better before you could allow yourself to feel completely at ease.

Now, locked in your room, you thought about the moment you had spent with Jay: it was beautiful, sad and nostalgic, but beautiful at the same time. Feeling his strong arms around you affected you more than you wanted, but you couldn't blame yourself, you hadn't had human contact for years and this embrace was something that surprised you, your conscience was clear, you were a human too and humans were social beings, made to be accompanied, not alone.

They had been together all these years, but you had faced a loneliness that ate you up more and more every day, then you told yourself that enjoying a hug was not a bad thing. The slam of the door you had slammed was enough for the aforementioned Jake and Ni-ki to stop camping outside your room and join the other boys downstairs, wondering what had happened.

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts and made you jump slightly in your bed, "Miss, it's me...the red haired boy, my name is Jungwon..." you heard a voice that was already familiar. Of course, the red haired boy, the one who had tried to calm the whole atmosphere between you and the idiot when you had pointed your gun at him.

With some confusion, you got off your bed and unlocked the door, only to see Jungwon standing on the other side with a plate of egg and bacon that smelled damn good. He held the plate out to you with a slight grimace, "You should have breakfast, miss..." he suggested and you stepped aside and let him into your room, sitting on the edge of your bed without thinking much about it.

Jungwon followed you with a careful step, not wanting to intrude into your space, your room.

Fuck, YOUR room.

He swallowed hard when he realized that he was in a woman's room, a very attractive woman, something that had never happened to him because before all this he had never dated, calling them a waste of time and preferring to study and do well academically. The only room he had ever been in was his sister's room or his mother's room, so this was new to him and he couldn't help but take a quick look around, scanning your space with curious and longing eyes.

"Thank you, Jungwon..." your voice snapped him out of his trance and he quickly nodded to your words, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when he heard you call his name, "Yeah, it's nothing...it's the least I could do after those idiots made that scene in front of you..." he said regretfully as he placed the plate on some of your furniture to then put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

You looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded in understanding, but something distracted you.

He really was, just so cute.

Seeing your silence, he took the liberty of continuing, "I apologize in their stead, Miss..." He spoke with firmness and determination as he looked at you intently, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again..." his voice was commanding, practically with born leadership, you frowned with a mixture of confusion and surprise, but didn't reply. He seemed to have this under control so easily, so you just gave him a nod.

You couldn't deny that you were fascinated by Jungwon, you wanted to know him better. He seemed to be someone very intelligent, who simply radiated confidence, but not the kind of confidence that scares you, but the kind that makes you feel a certain respect for him.

What you didn't know was that inside he was trying to ignore your precious presence, as well as the overwhelming smell of you that surrounded every corner of your room. He held himself back, he wanted to keep himself sane.

or at least appear to be.

But his legs were almost shaking and his composure was about to explode at the thought of being alone with you for the first time, alone with a woman who was not a member of his family for the first time in his life. He didn't want you to see the strong effect you had on him, not yet, so he simply nodded at your silence and turned with the intention of leaving your room, not only to give you your space, but also not to lose control of himself. But one thing he was sure of: if he had to fight with his friends for you, he would do it without any doubt, he just didn't want to show himself as immature as Heeseung and Jay had done.

"____...." your voice stopped his footsteps before he could leave your room, he instead turned around and looked at you curiously, giving you room to continue talking "That's my name...don't call me Miss anymore, okay?" Your words took him by surprise but he nodded without hesitation, all his tough exterior melted away as the blush came to his face at a ridiculous speed "Okay ___ Noona..." now it was your turn to blush.

Fuck, you couldn't deny that you loved being called that name, it was one of your weaknesses and Jungwon had found it out without any trouble.

He gave you a shy little smile, letting you see his adorable dimples that you hadn't been able to see before.

Shit, he was really cute.

He walked out of your room with his heart beating fast and you allowed yourself to smile for a few seconds. They all had different personalities and you would have to learn to deal with each of them, but from your point of view, it wouldn't be that hard if they started acting like Jungwon.

It would be a long and hard process, but one that you were sure would be worth it...

Taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @merwdusa @elairah @suhwife @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonline-blog @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsadtoday @immelissaaa

not the reader losing it for Jungwon lmao

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sturnlsstuff · 1 day ago

Text

GHOSTFACE!CHRIS HAS BEEN IGNORING YOU & YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO CONFRONT HIM ABOUT IT.

[ angst, cursing, mentions of murder ]

the feeling of being ignored never bothered you much, usually if someone did that to you your response was simple— you did the same. you didn't care at all, not going to waste your time on someone who didn't want to talk to you.

so why did you feel like this now?

chris didn't talk to you for over a week. at first, you were too busy with your classes and the material you had to catch up on to notice it, but eventually the fact that he wasn't texting you back at all started to weigh on you. the feeling of not knowing why made you anxious, catching yourself at thinking that maybe he had his own 'stuff' to take care of, but it wasn't a problem for him before. so something was going on.

after a few more ignored messages again, you decide to take matters into your own hands and that's how you found yourself at the frat house, entering chris's room, which turned out to be empty. you sigh, deciding to just wait until he comes back from wherever he is.

you look around his room, rolling your eyes at the empty pepsi cans and clothes laying all over the place, which you decide to pick up with the intention of organizing them just at least a little bit, but then the door opens and your eyes fall on chris. shirtless, sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, a bag of chips in his hand as he stuffs a handful into his mouth, slamming the door shut with his foot.

his eyes finally find you awkwardly standing there, slight surprise on his face before he hides it. stopping in the middle of the room, he looks at his clothes in your hands. "the fuck you doin'?" he frowns, licking his fingers clean.

"you've got quite a mess here," you reply casually.

"and who are you, my mother?" he scoffs, walking over to you and ripping the clothes from your hands only to throw them back to the floor, almost daring you to try and pick them up again.

"no?"

"then don't act like one," he flops down onto the bed, putting the bag of chips next to him and reaching for his phone, completely ignoring your presence. and that just confirmed your suspicions— he really had been ignoring you this past week. you had to find out why, knowing it couldn't be your fault.

"what's your problem?"

"my problem?" there's a hint of annoyance in his tone while he continues scrolling, without giving any glance in your direction. "you're the one who's here when i didn't even tell you to come over."

"well, it'd be hard when you don't even reply to me."

"i'm a busy guy."

"for sure," now there's a scoff leaving your lips. "busy killing people?"

this makes him finally look at you, clearly pissed off, his jaw clenched. "the fuck do y'want, huh?" he sits up, not looking away for even a second. "coming here, tryna arrange my things, as if you owned the place and now you can't even mind your business?"

"can't mind my business?" you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head in disbelief. "my business is the fact you're ignoring me without a reason and act like an asshole."

"m'not ignorin' you, just clearly got overwhelmed spendin' everyday with your bitchy ass, can't understand that?" he stands up, "even nick asks me why don't i have time for hanging out anymore and m'not dreamin' of explaining why."

his words were like a punch to the gut. you were aware you both got a little carried away and were seeing each other constantly, but it wasn't that big of a deal. and it affects you harder than you'd like to admit. "then maybe quit being a ghostface so you'll have time for your brothers."

he takes a step closer to you, tension radiating from his body, voice low and gruff, "who do you think you are, huh? jus' admit y'want my attention all the time 'n stop stickin' nose into my life."

"oh, your attention is the last thing i want, don't worry." you speak in your usual sarcastic tone, trying not to show how his words were making you feel. "act like a man for once and at least tell me if you want this to end, instead of acting like a child who can't communicate."

"want what to end? us having sex? why, when is the only thing y'can offer me?"

chris's words hit too close to home, reminding you that what was going on between you two was only sexual. you knew it, didn't expect anything more— but you felt like that slut everyone thought you were when your ex spread false rumors about you. and what was even worse was the fact chris knew it while saying that.

you hold his gaze, ignoring how your heart sinks. "fuck you," you hiss through your teeth, putting all the hate you felt for him into it, desperate to hurt him as some form of defense. "you're such a pathetic hypocrite, chris. explaining your actions by the fact that other guys have no morals and aren't respectful, when you do the same. you're the biggest asshole of them all and you probably hate yourself for it so you take it out on them. so what can you offer me besides sex? your awful attitude? no, thanks."

chris falls completely silent, almost giving the impression that he didn't hear you, but from the annoyance written all over his face, you knew that he did hear very well. he wasn't able to ignore this like he was ignoring your texts. "the only pathetic thing here is the fact you claim to hate me yet you came here."

"oh, i still hate you, don't worry." you reply.

"then the fuck you doing here?"

it was a good question— too good for your liking, it made you look like a fool. if you didn't care, you wouldn't even think of coming here to talk to him.

"wasting time, apparently." you say, hating how your voice cracked, the anger growing within you, while chris's expression stays unreadable. "you're clearly too immature to talk like normal people, so—"

"yeah, yeah," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, his tone sharp, like he was exhausted by the very thought of explaining this. "look, i thought you were smarter than this," he says, his words cutting through the space between you. "i never promised you anything, not once. you ain't my girlfriend, and honestly, i thought you got that by now, but clearly i was wrong. not my fault you got attached or some shit, so quit that stupid talk, 'cause i don't owe you anything. it gotta finally click in your head, 'cus m'not sayin' this again."

his words hanging in the air, heavy, like they'd been pressed into the glass. they're echoing in your head, louder than the ringing silence in the room, while you try to feel anything— anger, maybe, or relief— but there was nothing anymore. you already knew this, chris wasn't your boyfriend, you had no right to be mad at him for not replying to you, but the feeling of being ignored by him weighed on you.

you just stare at him, knowing he's probably expecting some kind of response, maybe even another sarcastic remark, that would show him how much you don't care. because you don't— right? you should laugh it off, tell him to go to hell and move on with your life. you never expected promises from anyone, least of all him. you weren't surprised, should've been okay with the reality of it all, knowing that you didn't want to be with chris, never even expecting that, but damn. it still stung.

your chest tightening, a dull ache spreading through you, a small half-laughing, half-sighing breath leaving your lips. it wasn't supposed to feel like this, the disappointment you felt flickered in your eyes.

"right. got it," you nod, turning away to leave. and that was it— you wanted to say more than that, to show him you're not aching inside, but the other words got stuck, caught in the mess of your chest.

and you left his room, pretending you didn't feel every word he'd just said as if it was a weight you'd been carrying all along.

autor note: uh oh what's going onnnnnn.... 🤨

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10 @chriss-slutt @ribbonlovergirl @icrazy106

#sturnlsstuff ❦ [ghostface!chris]#❦ ghostface!chris x enemy!reader ❦#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem!reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo angst

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suntrait · 2 days ago

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Stella dedicated her entire uni year to this book. She has no intention of publishing it, but maybe getting feedback from someone close might be a good idea.

(before / next)

transcript:

Josh: Hey, princess, how are you? Devin: I’m good. Just killing time in my room. Are you still at your internship? Josh: Nah, I’m done. I’m on my way to the library to study. Finals are next week. Devin: Such a nerd, I love that about you. Josh: I don’t have the luxury of just turning in papers like you. ;) Josh: Gotta go. I love you. Devin: Love you too.

Devin: (satisfied sigh) Dating is so good, why was I even avoiding this?

Devin: Ella? Stella: Hm?

Devin: You’ve been staring at your laptop screen forever. What’s up? Stella: I think I finished my book.

Devin: What? Seriously? Let me read it! Stella: No! Devin: Pleaaaase? I’ve got nothing else to do. Stella: No, Devin!

Devin: Then why did you write it? You’re not gonna just keep it to yourself, are you?

Stella: Ugh, fine! But only a few chapters. Devin: You’re amazing.

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #the sims #ts4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims #the sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 story #the sims 4 family #the sims game #simblr #sims 4 screenshots #sims community #sims story #mori legacy #mori legacy gen 1

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readerstories · 1 day ago

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When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 9/?

Hello, hello! Real life has been busy, but finally I've been able to sit down and write! *Edit: added some more details and dialogue. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 3256

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It's been three weeks since you saw Wade or Logan.

Which you are happy about.

But your body definitely isn’t.

Your joints are aching constantly. Some days it feels like you’ve been thrown into a wall multiple times, oddly not breaking or bruising nothing, but leaving you sore and hurting like a bitch.

There are also the headaches (something that edges close to a migraine at some points) that have no apparent reason behind them, that leave you grumpy and in a foul mood.

Well, there’s no apparent reason that you want to think about.

You only throw in the towel the day after a particular bad headache that had actually turned into a full migraine.

You had spent all day curled up in bed, for once not happy about the big windows in your apartment. You had thought about curling up in the bathroom with the lights off and heated floor on, but there was no way that would have been comfortable with your aching body. The heat might have been nice, but not the hard tile.

So, you bite the bullet, and go to their apartment. No matter that you’ve only been there once, finding your way there is easy.

You are tempted to drive there, but with your aching body and head you don’t trust yourself behind the wheel or handlebars.

So the subway and walking it is. That’s not pleasant either, but at least you are not a threat to others. And it’s not like you can teleport. You only stumble once on the way, muttering an apology to the guy you bump into. He sends you a nasty look, but it turns less harsh as he takes in your state, and he mutters a “don’t worry about it” back.

You hadn’t looked too closely in the mirror that morning, but with the way you are feeling, there’s no way you look your best.

It takes you a good amount of time, but you finally knock at their front door, trying not to sway on your feet. They really should look into doing something with the main entrance to the building, you had managed to slip inside again even in your state. There’s some shuffling behind the door, a muffled “coming” barely reaching your ears.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever reaction you are about to get.

Wade, wearing black sweatpants and a pink hello kitty t-shirt, opens the door, freezing with his mouth open as if he was about to say something. His control on the bond to you slips for a moment, you feel the utter confusion before it goes back to its muted state. You snort out a laugh, trying not to wince when that of course, with your luck, pulls on something that hurts; you’re not even sure what.

“Can I come in?”

“You are not our Chinese food.” You expect some sort of joke to follow, but there’s none, just Wade looking you up and down, “You look like shit pookie.” Is what you get instead, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I am fucking aware. Which is why I am here.” It should be annoying how you can fucking feel your shoulders lighten as you stand there, just looking at each other, but all you can feel is relief.

You swallow, throat dry. “So, can I come in?”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Wade opens the door wider, stepping to the side to let you in. You slowly do so, looking around. You have already been here, but it has been about two months.

The door clicks shut behind you. Wade doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on your back as you look over the place.

There’s a couch, a few lounge chairs, a tv. There’s also of course the dining room table that you got stitched up on, chairs surrounding it, several of them having clothes thrown over the backrest. It’s a little messy, but looks mostly clean, except for some weird stains on the floor you do your best to avoid as you step just a little closer to the lounge chairs and couch. You are tempted to sit down, but stop as Logan appears from somewhere further in the apartment. He’s wearing a grey flannel and jeans, looking down at his feet as he walks, chastising the ugly as sin dog as it runs around his legs, but as he looks up, he freezes mid-step.

“Was about to yell that we got company, peanut.” Wade says quietly, calm behind your back as you and Logan stare at each other.

“Uh, yeah, I can see that.” A beat of silence where no one says anything.

Then the dog, Mary-something or other, (you think), barks loudly, once, before running over to you. You look down at her as she stands on her hind legs, pawing at your pants. That seems to break Wade out of whatever state he was frozen in, as he scoops her up, and starts talking.

“Good to know we weren't the only ones hurting, for a bit there we almost thought this was some very elaborate prank, or a super shitty version of one. Like Punked, just with writing instead of TV cameras. You held out for a long time, and you didn’t even have another soulmate to lean on. Or, oh! Foursome? Or fourway if you wanna be clean about it.” You lick your lips, taking a deep breath, unsure of what to feel. You want to be annoyed, but there’s no annoyance to be found.

“No.”

“Good to know! Now I’m imagining a fourth though, fun to think about! Who though? Cable? Colossus? Buck? Well, I’ve touched all of them before and got nothing, so unlikely. Who do you think the author would throw in? Maybe Spidey? Andrew Garfield version, hopefully. His hair is almost as great as peanut’s.” You glance over at Logan, tuning out Wade for a moment. There’s a barely there frown on his face as he looks you up and down, taking in the state of you. He looks a lot better than you, normal even, and so does Wade.

“-hurting too. Well, for me more than usual. Wait, does this mean cuddle sessions on the couch?” Wade lets out an excited gasp, and for a moment your mind zeros in on the “more than usual” comment, but Wade just keeps going. “Omg, I’m already imagining it, the greatest cuddle pile to ever exist in this universe! Soft blankets, TV going, some scented candles to really set the mood.” He winks, you scowl.

You take a few more steps so you can plop down on a lounge chair with a groan, leaning back with your legs spread, hands in your own hair, and close your eyes. There’s a spike of something through your bond that’s gone too quick for you to recognise, but you pay it no mind as you massage your scalp. You are not sure if it’s helping, or if it’s the effects of your body finally being in the same room as your soulmates. All you care about is that your persistent headache is slowly fading, your head hurting less by the second.

“You know, touching not from just yourself would also help.” You swear you hear a wink in Wade’s voice; you are sure if your eyes were open you would have seen it.

“Touch me and I will cut your fingers off.”

“Are you even armed?” Footsteps next to you, and then you get a few pokes by a single finger on the side of your thigh before it connects with a hidden knife sheath.

“What are you doing?” Logan asks from behind you.

“Checking if he’s actually armed, I didn't think putting my hand down his pants would have gone well.” You hum, you should make good on your threat, but find that you can’t be bothered right now, too relieved by the tension in your body easing by the second.

“Would have been your whole arm instead. The close proximity should be enough to make me feel and look less like shit.” You rub your temple, opening your eyes to glance up at Wade who is still standing close, while Logan makes his way over to the couch.

“And what if it isn’t?” Logan asks as he sits down, tilting his head to the side as he takes you in. You roll your shoulders, noting to yourself how they already feel looser, more relaxed, even if it’s only been minutes.

Fucking soulmates.

“We’ll jump off that bridge if we get to it.” Wade laughs, but no one gets to say anything else before they are stopped by the doorbell. This turns out to be the earlier mentioned chinese food. You close your eyes when the smell of it makes your nausea return. You dig your hands into the armrest of the lounge chair.

“Well, we weren’t planning on a dinner guest, but we always order enough food for half an army, since we gotta stay big strong boys, so if you want some there’s plenty to go around. And I’m not just talking about food.” Yet another wink you can hear. You shake your head.

“I’ll hurl, so no thanks.”

“Hurtful pookie.”

“The food dumbass.” You bring the sleeve of your jacket up to your nose, breathing in the familiar scent of your laundry detergent to focus on something else. You get a few breaths in before there’s a weight in your lap, making you open your eyes and look down. The round eyes of Mary look up at you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth.

“Awwww, she must really like you. She’ll normally beg for food even though she knows she can’t have any. Even if she’s technically indestructible, she will get an upset stomach and shit everywhere if she eats some human foods.” You blink at Wade, who has taken a seat next to Logan and spread out a frankly ridiculous amount of food on the living room table.

“Indestructible?” Your voice comes out a little muffled from behind your sleeve, but Wade seems to understand you just fine, grinning.

“Ohhh, is it exposition time?” Apparently answering his own question, Wade launches into the story of how they met, how they got Mary Puppins, and apparently saved the universe.

The story is told with a lot of words and gestures, mostly by Wade, though Logan fills in bits and pieces here and there, and sometimes protests when there’s part where Wade is apparently “painting a fucking rosy picture with a lot less guts”.

As Wade talks the nausea slowly dissolves, so you move from holding your sleeve in front of your nose to petting Mary. She doesn’t have much fur, and is still ugly as sin, but she is already growing on you in a weird way. You can see why Wade instantly fell in love, but also why Logan didn’t, at least according to the story Wade tells.

“-and that’s how this hunk of a man came to live with me and Al.” Wade lets you digest all that they have told as he takes a few big bites of the now cold noodles in front of him. Logan takes a sip of his beer that he had gotten at some point, eyes flicking between you and Wade.

It’s an insane story, and you’re not sure how much of it you believe, but there’s a part that’s missing.

“When did you touch each other?”

“Oh, multiple times. Want me to tell the Honda part all over again? I assure you, it was just as juicy and could have been a lot juicer if Di-”

“No, I mean, when did you realize you were soulmates?”

“Oh! When we got back to this place, and I handed Logan some spare clothes that he could shower.” You tilt your head, then you realise why it happened that late.

“Oh, gloves.”

“Yup! All that touching and handholding, and it was all with gloves. Though his disintegrated alongside his shirt with the ripper, showing off that glorious hairy and sweaty chest and abs, I was still wearing mine. No-one wanted that freak-show.” Logan elbows Wade as your mind goes elsewhere for a moment. You can’t help it, you imagine it for a fleeting second, glancing over Wade and Logan, the latter of whom tilts his head just the teeniest bit to the side. “I didn’t take my gloves off until the safety of home, so we had a nice bonding time in the shitty bathroom. Freaked out Mr. Growly over here, he doesn’t have soulmates in his universe.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I want to live in your universe.” Logan scoffs, taking a drink of his beer.

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Wait, if you don’t have soulmates, how….?”

“We figured it must have been all that sexy hand holding, our particles getting mixed by the time ripper, and Madonna.”

“What does Mad- You know what, doesn’t matter.” Your shoulders are high, trying to tense, but being closer to your soulmates Wade and Logan are making them more relaxed. It’s an odd combo, making it feel like your shoulders are slowly rolling up and down.

“So you got the kitten claws and kitten ears in your hair, and you got super healing with a side of skin disease.”

“Hardy har, don’t bully me I’ll cum. But something like that, just with a much deeper and so, so tragic backstory. But there has been enough exposition for today, don't you think?”

“Sure, right, whatever. So the two of you saved the fucking universe and got each other in the process, fucking fabulous.” You scrub your hands over your face, before combing through your hair a few times. “Where in the fuck do I fit in in this mess.” You mostly mumble it to yourself, trying to make sense of it all.

“I don’t know, but if you let us, we could figure it out together. Like some weird sort of buddy cop movie, but in an ACAB way.” You snort behind your hands, not being able to help yourself. Wade’s humor has already grown on you.

“Come on, what you’re doing now is just making it fucking worse for yourself, even if you don’t like it.” Logan supplies.

“Yeah no shit, I feel the same way I look.”

“Hot as shit.” Wade winks at you, you roll your eyes.

“Just shit.”

“Agree to disagree, pookie.” A few moments of silence, where you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling, take a few deep breaths, and try to not concentrate on how your bonds are practically vibrating with excitement even in their muted states.

“Soooooo, how are we going to do this?” Wade is, of course, the one to break the silence.

“Do what?”

“Start of this beautiful journey of loveeee and self healing?” Wade wiggles in his seat, pushing his shoulder into Logan, who rolls his eyes at his antics, but throws an arm around his shoulders.

“Fuck if I know.” A few beats where you try to think, now that you can focus on something else other than pain and nausea. “Regular-ish meetings would probably be good. Try to keep the side-effects, but also the contact, minimal.”

“Hurtful pookie.” Wade says again, but Logan talks before you can respond to him.

“Let’s start with once a week, and if that’s not enough, we’ll try more.” He suggests.

“Feels like I’m starting a god damn drug trial or some bullshit.”

“Trial of love pookie.” You groan as Logan snorts. Wade claps his hands together. “Well, consider this the start of many wonderful nights to come! Wanna watch a movie? Al is still out who the fuck knows where doing fuck knows what (probably coke) for a while, so we got the place to ourselves” You shrug. Might as well, if you are going to be forced to spend time with your soulmates so your body doesn't start to feel like you've been run over by a truck.

A movie will hopefully keep your mind distracted, it’s not like you need to stare deeply into each other’s eyes, or talk about feelings, for it to work and calm down your body and mind.

Wade puts on a Barbie movie of all things, and begins to yap about the Barbie movie universe, or the BMU. Logan gets up to fetch some popcorn, which you take a few handfuls off as your stomach and body has settled for now. You pet Mary Puppins as you try to pay attention to the movie.

Thirty minutes into the movie, you are out like a light, the relief of your body making you fall asleep where you sit, Mary Puppins resting in your lap with your hand on top of her barely fur-covered head.

—---

When you wake up from your unplanned nap, it’s to your neck hurting from being at an odd angle for way too long. You have no idea what time it is, but it’s dark outside the window, the only light in the room is the rays spilling in from a lamp-post somewhere outside.

Taking stock of your body as you sit up properly, the only thing that aches is your neck and upper shoulders. A blanket that wasn’t there before falls into your lap as you move, Mary Puppins no longer occuping it. You realize that somehow, at some point during your sleep, the sofa, which apparently is a pullout, had been transformed into a bed.

Which Wade and Logan are currently sleeping on, with a dog bed next to it where Mary Puppins is curled up.

How they had managed to do that without waking you, you don’t know.

You really must have been exhausted.

You rub both your hands over your face, moving one to your neck to knead at the sore muscle there. You bite your lip to keep in the groan that threatens to slip out, glancing at the bed to make sure neither man wakes.

And then you keep looking.

Logan is on his back, one arm around Wade, whose head rests on his chest. Their legs are intertwined, both of them snoring quietly. They are both wearing shirts, though Logan’s have ridden up to show a hairy happy trail, which disappears underneath the edge of the blanket that covers their lower halves.

They both look surprisingly soft.

You shake your head as soon as that thought appears, banishing it to the darkness of the void. Where in the world did that come from?

That’s not a question you can answer, at least not with something that you will like, so instead you focus your energy on getting up from the chair as quietly as possible.

It must fail somehow though, because as you put the blanket down in the chair and stand up fully, there’s a soft call of your name.

Looking over to the pullout, Logan’s head is raised from the pillow. He’s looking at you, in the limited light it’s hard to tell his expression, but you don’t think he’s scowling.

You think that’s about to change though.

“See you in a week Logan.” You whisper, and take the few steps needed towards the front door, opening it, and then closing it behind you with the softest click you can manage.

This time you don’t run, even as much as your brain is screaming for you to do so.

In the opposite direction of where you are actually going.

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strryhaze · 2 days ago

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bobby & david kennedy

“There was some level on which David tapped his father’s sensitivity. You would find him walking with David or with his arm around David. David just seemed to need it.”

— chuck mcdermott.

“If his father’s death hit David harder than the others, it was because there had been a special bond between them—both were the runts of the litter, sandwiched into the middle of a large family. He was the only one in the family who hadn’t been enthusiastic about the run for the presidency. For weeks after his father’s announcement, David had been plagued by recurring nightmares about Bobby’s death. Distraught over episodes that seemed premonitory, and missing the special attention his father had given him, David had gotten in trouble for throwing rocks at cars passing by Hickory Hill. The day of the California primary, he had joined his father in Los Angeles. The two of them had been swimming and he had felt himself being carried out by the undertow when his father grabbed him, scraping his own head on the ocean floor as he reached for David’s slippery arm. With a teenager’s melodrama, David had decided that he owed his father a life and would look for an opportunity to pay him back in the years ahead. That night as he sat in front of the television set in his room in the Ambassador Hotel and watched [his father] bleeding on the floor downstairs, one of the thoughts he had was that the debt would be forever undischarged.”

“As the worst year of their young lives came to a close, they decided to surprise their mother at Christmas with a book comprised of letters about their father. David’s said: ‘Daddy was very funny in church because he would embarrass all of us by singing very loud. Daddy did not have a very good voice. There will be no more football with Daddy, no more swimming with him, no more riding and no more camping with him. But he was the best father there ever was and I would rather have him for a father for the length of time I did than any other father for a million years.”

— the kennedy’s, peter collier & david horowitz.

“David looked at himself in those pictures like they were a strange sort of mirror. He looked at them half a dozen times at least, mesmerized by them, and he kept asking me questions. There was a tremendous desire to know his father, to really know him.”

— john seigenthaler.

“David and Bobby were so close. They were inseparable. David was small, a runt like Bobby had been.” Ethel then explained to Noelle (her secretary) that David had always been a very sensitive youngster, very introverted, "not like the other boys. He and I would go and pick flowers while his brothers were killing each other with their crazy games", Ethel recalled with a smile.

— ethel kennedy.

“I think about death a lot. Time hasn’t erased the death of my father from my mind. My family thinks I’m no good and that I’ll never beat my problem. They’ve written me off. I’m trying to get it together, but it’s so difficult. I’m having a terrible time at it. And the thing I want most in the world is the approval of my family, but they want nothing to do with me. All I want is to be with my father.”

— david kennedy, april 1984.

“Like his family, his friends had all wondered at one time or another if he would kill himself; but when it finally came his death was nonetheless shocking. ‘I keep asking myself why. Why David? Why now? All I can come up with is that maybe his father was looking down from heaven and saw all the hell these people were putting him through and said, ‘Come on, You’ve suffered enough. It’s time you were up here with me.’”

— nancy narleski.

Years after David Kennedy’s death, his cousin, Patrick Kennedy recalled a haunting and heartbreaking recollection he had with his father, Teddy, sitting beside his cousin’s casket: “My father remembered Bobby telling him that, as a father, he needed to spend more time with David. He also recounted a story Uncle Bobby had told him just before his own death. On the day before the California primary, the Robert Kennedys had gone swimming in Malibu, to relax together. David had been knocked over by a wave and got caught in the undertow, and his father had come to his rescue. When Uncle Bobby told my father this story, he talked about ‘the undertow’ in broader terms, how there was an undertow in life and David, who was only then thirteen, already seemed vulnerable to it. And then, just hours later, Uncle Bobby was murdered as David watched the TV coverage in their hotel room upstairs. It was unbelievably poignant to hear my father tell this story. David was in the casket next to us. And I wasn’t that much older than David when his father worried whether he could survive the undertow.”

#the fifth photo where he’s caressing david’s cheek …..#every time i think about bobby & david my heart cracks a little #the way that he was iced out by the kennedy's bc of his drug addiction is so heartbreaking. but is it surprising? not really #ofc i understand that trying to help someone with an addiction is never easy and warrants a whole other conversation #i remember reading ab how kathleen tried to help as she was the oldest but other ppl in the family dissuaded her from it after a while #chris lawford talked ab how eunice once got him out of trouble but was incredibly angry at how the family had neglected their own children #said something about how 'we're so good at taking care of other ppl's problems but absolutely awful at looking after our own'#so i'm moreso side-eyeing ppl like rfk jr who actively benefitted in painting david as the black sheep #or just Didn't Care bc it reflected badly on them.#david was made to feel unimporant in the family when anyone who met him said he was Always the brightest of bobby’s children #which made his downward mental spiral all the more tragic to those sympathetic to him #and it kind of kills me bc he really was so much like Bobby who grew up only ever wanting his family’s love and approval #who as a young man was also so angry at the world & depressed but then was slowly sucked out of its intensity bc of ethel’s love and suppor #and because he found purpose through fatherhood and public service #but david never had the opportunity to have those things or that type of support #not after he lost his father who he felt was the only one who understood & cared for him and gave him that support #david later revealed to peter collier & David Horowitz that his brothers even called him a traitor which had left him in tears #and he was only further ostracized by the family for talking to those biographers and telling them the actual truth #moral of the story: bobby and david kennedy deserved better #rfk #bobby kennedy #david kennedy #kennedy family

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alittlegiraffe · 1 day ago

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Title: Misunderstood

It started small. Marshall wasn’t the most openly emotional guy, but you always knew when he was present—when he was *there* with you. He had his way of making you feel like the only person in the world, even in his quiet moments.

But recently, that connection felt like it had been fraying. He’d been coming home later, spending more time in his home studio, and his usual warmth had been replaced by something distant. When he did talk to you, his responses were clipped, like he was only half-listening.

You tried to push through it at first, chalking it up to stress. He was always juggling a million things at once—his music, his kids, his public image. But when he started leaving the room to take phone calls or spacing out during dinner, a nagging thought crept into your mind.

What if he was pulling away because there was someone else?

It wasn’t like him, but you’d seen it happen to other people. Relationships falling apart quietly, slowly, until one day you wake up and realize you don’t know the person lying next to you. The fear of that happening to you and Marshall clawed at your chest, and the frustration of not knowing how to fix it bubbled over.

---

It was late, and you were already in bed, staring at the ceiling. Marshall had just gotten home after another long day. He sat on the edge of the mattress, scrolling through his phone, completely silent.

“Marshall,” you said, your voice sharp in the quiet room.

He didn’t look up. “Yeah?”

You sat up, your arms crossed. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, finally glancing over his shoulder.

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. Distant. Distracted. You barely talk to me anymore, and I feel like I’m invisible.”

He sighed, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “I’ve just been busy. That’s all.”

“Busy?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’re not just busy, Marshall. You’ve been completely checked out. What is it? What’s going on?”

“I told you—it’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me!” you snapped, your voice rising. “Is there someone else? Are you cheating on me?”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes narrowing. “Are you serious right now?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” you shot back, throwing your hands up. “You’ve been shutting me out completely, and I don’t understand why. If there’s something you’re not telling me, just say it!”

Marshall stood, pacing the room, his jaw tight. “You think I’d cheat on you? After everything we’ve been through?”

“I don’t know what to think!” you yelled, your voice breaking. “I don’t know anything anymore because you won’t talk to me!”

Marshall stopped pacing, running a hand over his face. He looked… tired. Defeated.

“It’s not what you think,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “I’m not cheating on you.”

“Then what is it?” you asked, your tone softer now.

He sat back down on the bed, his shoulders slumping. “I have to go to L.A. for a few weeks. The label booked studio time, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without it turning into a fight. I know it’s part of the job, but it’s killing me, okay?”

You blinked, confused. “Why would it be killing you?”

“Because I hate being away from you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every time I leave, it feels like I’m leaving part of myself behind. And this time, it’s worse. I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own, but it’s messing with my head.”

The weight of his words hit you like a freight train. All your anger, all your suspicions melted away, replaced by a pang of guilt so sharp it made your chest ache.

“Marshall,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his hand.

He shook his head, his blue eyes clouded with emotion. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just didn’t know how to talk about it without making you upset.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you scooted closer to him. “I thought… I thought I was losing you. I’m so sorry. I should’ve asked you about it sooner instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“No,” he said, his voice firm. “You shouldn’t have had to guess what was going on. That’s on me. I should’ve talked to you.”

You sat there in silence for a moment, his words settling between you. Then you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking.

“Me too,” you whispered, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go.

**Rebuilding**

That night, the two of you stayed up talking. You told him how his behavior had made you feel, and he told you about the pressure he’d been under, the way the thought of leaving had been eating at him.

It wasn’t easy, but by the time the sun started to rise, you felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your chest.

When the day came for Marshall to leave, you were still sad to see him go. But this time, there was no tension, no distance between you. Just love and the promise of his return.

As he kissed you goodbye, his hands lingering on your face, he said, “I’ll call you every day. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And for the first time in weeks, you believed him.

**The Return**

Three weeks had never felt so long.

Marshall had called you every day like he promised—sometimes more than once. He sent pictures of the studio, snippets of songs he was working on, and messages that made you laugh. He was doing his best to close the distance between you, but it wasn’t the same.

The house felt emptier without him. You missed the sound of his laugh, the warmth of his arms around you, the way he’d sneak up behind you in the kitchen just to kiss your neck. You tried to stay busy, but it was impossible not to count the days until he came back.

Finally, the day arrived.

You were in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast, when you heard the front door open. Your heart leapt as you rushed into the hallway, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

And there he was.

Marshall stood in the doorway, his bag slung over one shoulder and his baseball cap pulled low over his face. He looked tired, but the second he saw you, his entire expression softened.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quiet.

You didn’t say anything. You just ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck. He let out a soft laugh as he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I missed you more,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face. “You look exhausted.”

He shrugged, giving you a small smile. “Long flight. But I’m good now.”

“Are you hungry? I can make you something—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours with an urgency that made your knees weak. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“All I need right now is you,” he said softly.

**The Rest of the Day**

You spent the day curled up on the couch together, talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s presence. Marshall told you about the recording process, the late nights in the studio, and how he’d stayed up some nights just staring at his phone, wanting to hear your voice.

“You know, it’s not the same,” he said, running his fingers through your hair as your head rested on his chest.

“What’s not?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him.

“Talking on the phone. It helps, but it’s not the same as being here with you. I hate being away from you. Every time I leave, it feels like part of me is missing.”

You reached up to touch his face, your thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “You don’t have to explain, Marshall. I get it. I felt the same way.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I promise, I’m going to try to balance things better. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pulling away again. Ever.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know. And I’ll try not to jump to conclusions next time. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, his lips curving into a smile against yours.

**That Night**

As the day turned to evening, you found yourself in bed together, tangled up in each other like you couldn’t get close enough. He held you like he was afraid you might disappear, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your skin.

“I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t important to me,” he said suddenly, his voice low. “You’re the most important thing in my life. You know that, right?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you nodded, your fingers threading through his. “I know. And I feel the same way about you.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Good. Because I don’t ever want you to doubt that. No matter where I am, you’re always on my mind. Always.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you felt more connected to him than ever before, knowing that no matter how far apart you might be, you’d always find your way back to each other.

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader

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average-mako-enjoyer · 3 days ago

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I keep thinking about Kaidan's character arc and how important his struggle with survivor's guilt is to it.

The whole trilogy literally begins with him losing his subordinate (Jenkins) for the first time, and it obviously hits him hard.

Kaidan is the head of the Marine detail on the Normandy, which means that every Marine on board, their safety and comfort is his responsibility. Sure, the Normandy is the new ship, but you can't just put a bunch of people on board and sail them off on their first mission. It takes a lot of preparation and team building to make that work, so realistically, before Jenkins' death, Kaidan spent weeks and weeks with these guys, trying to make a connection and get them to trust him (with their lives).

He spent every day of the week with these guys, and he was the one who comforted them after Jenkins' death, both as their officer and as someone who was present when Jenkins was killed and as someone who literally pronounced him dead. The whole brunt of this fell on Kaidan's shoulders because Shepard was unconscious after the contact with the beacon, and that's another reason for Kaidan to feel terrible about the whole event: He not only lost his subordinate during this mission, he almost lost his commanding officer, and now he has to explain it all to Anderson and the crew. It's brutal.

Also, the way he talks about the whole event afterwards is very telling. He says: "I served for years, but never lost a soldier under my command. Not to hostile action, anyway." There's a trauma here. What kind of action did you lose soldiers to, Kaidan?

And after all that, he loses Ashley, who is also a soldier under his command, and also Jenkins' replacement on board.

Kaidan asks, "How could we just leave her down there?" and "Why me? Why not her?" And when Shepard says it was their call, Kaidan says, "If I had done my job, you wouldn’t have had to make that call."

He blames himself for this situation, he feels survivor's guilt, and you can only imagine how much worse it gets when Shepard tells him to evacuate with the crew after the Normandy is attacked by the Collectors. Kaidan follows that order and survives. Shepard does not.

In ME2, that same guilt is absolutely part of why Shepard's betrayal hurts him so much. Not only because Kaidan (or Ashley), unlike every other ME1 squadmate, actively went looking for Shepard and made a lot of personal sacrifices to make that meeting possible (I need to write a separate post about that, don't I?), not only because Kaidan is apparently not worthy enough to be contacted by Shepard, but also because Kaidan did not protect Shepard, and now Shepard is with the enemy.

And then ME3 happens, and Kaidan's students go MIA, and they die, and he has to deal with that same guilt again. I feel very strongly that all these years after Shepard's death, he has tried to do his job well enough so that nobody has to make tough calls, but this war is just one big tough call, and he tries to deal with that fact, and he struggles terribly (especially in the deleted scene).

Kaidan's whole journey through the Reaper War is about trying to deal with the absolute loss of control and the guilt. He didn't save Jenkins, he didn't save Ash, he didn't save Shepard's life, and he didn't save Shepard from Cerberus, and he didn't help Shepard with the Collectors.

And now he can't help his students, and he can't even help his mother, but maybe he can finally help Shepard and be there for Shepard in their last moments, and he comes to terms with that ("We both know this is goodbye."; oh, the way his voice breaks in that moment...). But then Shepard leaves him again, and there's nothing Kaidan can do about it. Absolutely nothing.

Ouch.

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #mshenko #shenko #but it's also true for the platonic route #my thoughts

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cringekind · 2 days ago

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thoughts from my hannibal rewatch, S1E11 "Roti"

This episode is like, the beginning of the end. The physical symptoms of Will's encephalitis are the worst they've ever been, and the hallucinations are so bad they're ruling his life. The moment where Alana comforts Will with a hand on his face and notices how hot he is, but Will brushes it off because he has "better" things to do is like one of the themes of the episode. Will will always put himself after what he does, because of the other theme which is that Will struggles with who he is and currently relies on his job for his identity. If he stops working he loses who he is, and that scares him more than anything else. As much as the hallucinations and the nightmares bothered him before it was never dire because they didn't pose a threat to his understanding of himself, they were simply inconvenient. Now they threaten everything. It also makes me ache the way he leans into Alana's hand, my dude is SO touch and attention starved someone give him love and attention!!!

I love that most of the killers of the week in this show are used to compare and contrast to Will, and Abel in this episode like epitomizes this. They're both at their emotional and mental lowest struggling with Who They Are. But I love how active Abel is in comparison to how passive Will is. Will is generally a man of action, but he's so desperate to keep the status quo, to keep his life the way it always has been, the comfortable low-grade misery he's become accustomed to, the only action he will take is maintain what he can, not to change. Abel is all about figuring himself out, all action, he refuses to let himself sit in the confusion a moment longer than he needs to. He's going about it wrong, but he's got the spirit!

Finally, THE sequence of events for this episode. When Will hallucinates Garret Jacob Hobbs (who is really Gideon) and drives to Hannibal. Because Hannibal has made it clear, he is Will's paddle/gauge/stability. He trusts Hannibal not to lie to him, to redirect him when he's been lead astray. Hannibal has worked so hard for this moment where he can lie to Will's face and tell him the sky is green and Will will believe him. And the gentle nudge he gives to make Will act, sending him after Gideon. That's 3 times now Hannibal has given Will the gift of a murder so far (only Hobbs was successful but hey! its the thought that counts right?). This really (for me) lends credulity to the idea that Hannibal really does value the man more than the madness. Certainly he's having the time of his life torturing Will and driving him mad but at the end of the days it's more important to keep Will around, killing people and sympathizing with the ripper, than to let his illness completely burn him up. Why send Will after Gideon, who Hannibal wants dead, if he didn't want to give Will something? He easily could've gotten away with capturing and killing Gideon then and there and let him get away, let Will go after him, anyway.

Very excited to watch it all fall apart in the end, I'll probably go absolutely bonkers foaming at the mouth despite already knowing how it ends!

#will graham #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannigram #roti

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cipherjuice-bioexorist · 2 days ago

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*Beetle had gotten home expecting to see Steve in the kitchen, or on the rare days he was hiding, play a nice game of hide and seek before he boyfriend drove himself into anxious delrium.*

*However, as he entered the apartment, it was deathly silent. Steve was NEVER silent— unless he was non-verbal, but then again, that didn't explain why the apartment was trashed and all the lights were off.*

*Beetle immediately started to panic, walking his way around the clutter. Broken cups, cupboards were open, the couch looked like it was pushed to the side and the table was knocked over.*

*But left on the seemingly only thing standing up right; and alone stool, was Beetles computer, torn out from his office and a message awaiting on the screen to be opened.*

*Beetle didn't hesitate to click open the video, and an alarming scene was immediately pulled up.*

*Steve was gagged and tied to a chair, eye a thin slit and breathing quickly and heavily. There was a hash on his forehead, his flickering static-like blood sliding down his face and onto his half-unbuttoned shirt. There was some sort of sci-fi looking gun pointed at his head, and terrifyingly familiar face holding the trigger, with his goons behind him. Steve was struggling and glaring, but he was obviously terrified due to his trembling and quick breathing.*

@imthebestcharacter618

Dolores- *he whispered in horror as he recognized the face. Once a colleague, a friend, a.. partner. Probably his most long lasting relationship in all honesty. Now it was the horrific face staring him down through the screen, pressing the gun against Steve's temple*

Hi beetle-cakes, miss me? I hope ya did. *Her voice cracked through the video feed. It always was warped when recorded..* I'm finally out of the good ole waiting room! Overheard you got yourself a new little fling. *She gripped Steve by the scalp of his hair, forcing him to look up at her* is he gonna last longer than the others? He's already lasted about 3 weeks. I'm surprised you aren't bored yet!

*beetle found himself frozen to the spot. It might just be his fear, but he could feel her staring at him. Through him.*

Look, I'll cut it to ya straight, honey. You cost me, you cost me big time. Heartbreak, literally and figuratively. I want my debt to be paid. You took my living life away, I think it's fair I take yours. Course, I'm not picky. I'll easily kill bright eyes here in your place~

I know you're on your last life before purgatory, Juice. Let's not make this any harder than it needs to be

#cipherjuice #Beetletie #gravity falls au #gravity falls ask blog #gravity falls #gravity falls rp #gravity falls fandom #gravity falls roleplay #bill cipher gravity falls #gravity falls oc #bill cipher au #cipherjuice x pyramid steve

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peachyprophets-blog · 2 days ago

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DROWNED LOVE, LET ME SEE YOU AGAIN…

Various! Yandere/Obsessed! EPIC x Reader

CW: Yandere themes, hints of death, depression and hopelessness

Description: After your time with Circe, you are brought back to Olympus and guarded more than before. You are torn apart by the emptiness you feel inside, despite the affection of the gods. All you want is to be with Odysseus and Penelope. Wait, Odysseus and Penelope…? You shouldn't know these names…that's what the gods want.

A/N: Heyyy!! Finally, a new part, hehhe ;) I'm working on the final part now and be PREPARED FOR THE PLOT RAWWWW

Part 5: The Silent Despair and The Song of Thunder

PREV / PART 6

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The wind blows gently through your hair, the night you spent with the messenger of the gods Hermes and the sorceress Circe was indescribable. However, after Artemis brought you back to Olympus, you started to feel cold, not from the temperature of the weather but in your soul. You feel empty; they never took it out on you, they honored you too much to take out their frustration and despair on you. When you sat in the garden one day and looked at the bright flowers while the sun wrapped you protectively in its light, something was different. Names came to mind that you had long forgotten, the names of those who once made your world shine...

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Reader POV:

Coldness. That's what I feel. Emptiness is what I sense. Loneliness and despair are what keep me trapped. I can't do this anymore. Everything feels so pointless. Why do I even exist? These questions have been wandering around my head for days, weeks, months, or maybe even years. I haven't had a sense of time for a long time. Most of the time, I'm forced to be with the gods. They hardly let me out of their sight, and that doesn't make my situation any better. When I sleep, one of the Olympian gods watches over me, and when I wake up, I'm woken up by one. When I eat, bathe, go for a walk, or do something else, I'm constantly being watched. The nymphs start to look at me with pity, but when I'm not there, they talk about it. I can't and don't want to anymore. I just want to close my eyes and stop existing, I just want to lie in the arms of Odysseus and Penelope, my loved ones who mean so much to me. What was that? Odysseus and Penelope? What kind of names are those? They sound so familiar, so much that my heart hurts. A deep homesickness overcomes my body, the dam breaks, and the dam that was holding my tears back breaks. Hot tears start to roll down my cheeks and pour out onto the ground beneath me onto the flowers. My field of vision becomes unrecognizable, and I look at a female silhouette. "Penelope?" I whispered softly, slowly walking towards the figure, a quiet sob escaping my lips. "Odysseus, the gods say he is dead," I burst out, but when I wanted to touch the person my heart missed so much, I couldn't reach for anything, only a warm light enveloped my hand. As I stepped closer into the light, I collapsed, the feelings overwhelmed me, and my crying became louder. The weight of never seeing the one I loved again weighs heavily on my shoulders. Please have mercy on me and let me go. "Not yet, you are not ready to leave this place," a voice I could not identify whispered in my ear. Shortly afterwards, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep. But before that, I could see poppies starting to grow in the grass next to me...

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Odysseus POV

The clouds gathered, thunder rolled loudly in the sky and lightning struck uncontrollably into the open sea. Fear was anchored in all of our bones, Eurylochus was the trigger for this situation. After we had killed the sirens who had previously told us how to get home safely, we went through the cave of Scylla as we had been told. I had to sacrifice six of my men so that we could make it out alive. But Eurylochus was not satisfied with that, after a fight we arrived on an island where he tied me to a statue of the sun god. After he killed one of his cows, we had to flee from this island. Now we are caught in the storm that means our downfall, and I am looking directly into the eyes of the king of all gods... Zeus. Zeus' eyes glowed with anger as he looked at me, that look could kill me several times and I don't know why. A little later he gave me a choice, "you or your crew." I was shaking slightly, but I knew what to do. "I have to see her," I said when Eurylochus pointed out that he and the others would die, but at that moment I had to make the decision. I have to find (Y/N), I have to go back to Ithaca, I have to go back to Penelope and Telemachus. I have to (Y/N)... wait... (Y/N)..? That name sounded like an echo in my head. I shook off that thought, I have to go to my wife Penelope and our son Telemachus.

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Zeus grinned contentedly before lightning struck the ship of Odysseus and his crew, the lifeless bodies slowly sank to the bottom of the sea and the waves carried Odysseus, who was drifting unconscious in the sea, away from the event to a distant island. Zeus was satisfied. The king of Ithaca had long been a thorn in his and the other gods' side. Now (Y/N) would no longer cling to him, no longer to the memory of this man. What Zeus did not know, however, was what fate had in store for you. A life far away from what they knew up there on the mountain....

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-Peachyprophet

TAG LIST:

@doodle-with-rhy

#epic odysseus #epic the ithaca saga #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic x reader #odysseus x reader #poseidon x reader #poseidon #greek mythology x reader #yandere greek gods #yandere hermes #yandere apollo #yandere x reader #yandere hypnos #yandere epic x reader

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lyraa-kill · 2 days ago

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Sick and Twisted Bastard

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 l Chapter 5

Tags: Stalker Simon "Ghost" Riley, Trans John “Soap" MacTavish, Top Simon "Ghost" Riley, Bottom John "Soap" MacTavish, Dom Simon “Ghost" Riley, Sub John "Soap" MacTavish, Stalking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, johnny can't make himself cum, Kidnapping, Knives, John is okay with Simon's stalking, John is a little freak too, Voyeurism, Hidden Cameras, Bondage, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Spanking, Painplay, Internalized Transphobia, Self-Harm, Murder, They really match each others freak, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Biting, pussy slapping, Face Slapping, Blood, Choking

——

Johnny has been living with Simon for two weeks now, meaning the end of their combined three week leave is up. He tries not to think about it, but he can’t help but wonder what will happen. Is this whole thing temporary, will he be forced to go back on base and resume his job? He hopes not.

He’s proud of being Sergeant MacTavish. He fought tooth and nail to get out of his home and become the man he knew he should be, and made a damn good name for himself too. But it wasn’t him. He never wanted any of that, he only did it because he had no other options. He was forced to be someone he knew he wasn’t all over again. Sure, it was better because at least this time he was a man, but it still wasn’t him.

He knows what he wants now. He wants to be Johnny. He wants to have a small, quiet little cabin with Simon and spend his days doing what he chooses, not what he’s being commanded by a superior to do.

Now, his head lays on Simon’s lap as they cuddle on the couch, a movie playing on the TV. They’ve been doing a lot of that. Laying around, watching something. Occasionally taking breaks to eat or fuck. Johnny’s happy at finally being relaxed, but it’s getting quite boring.

He shifts his head to look up at Simon. “Can I ask you something?”

Simon runs his hands through Johnny’s Mohawk. “What is it baby?”

“We’re due to go back to base soon. What’s gonna happen when we don’t show up?”

Simon smiles down at him. “Don’t worry about it. No one will bother us to come back.”

“But-“ Johnny gets interrupted.

“I took care of it, Johnny.” Simon leans down and gives him a peck on the forehead. “No one will bother us. Just be good for me and don’t worry about it, yeah?”

Simon’s a bit nervous for when he eventually has to tell Johnny what he did. The man has always tried to minimize civilian casualties. He’s a protector of the innocent, and Simon had to kill and dismember two very innocent people to fake their deaths.

It was hard to find two people similar enough to their body shapes to kill. Even then, Simon had to behead them and cut off any body parts that would be a tell-sign that the bodies weren’t really them. He had to hack up the rest, leave their IDs at the scene and whatnot. He thinks he faked it pretty well, if he has to be honest. He’s seen his fair share of murder scenes in the past and tried to replicate it as best as he could, for both their sakes. Him and Johnny both would have either drowned in their own misery or been killed in combat if they stayed.

“Alright,” Johnny sighs, turning back over to look at the TV, “I trust you.”

Simon smiles and kisses Johnny’s hair. As he looks down at his perfect boy, he knows he doesn’t regret a thing he did. He can already see how they both are healing, becoming more themselves than they thought possible. Simon is less angry, less closed-off, finds himself wanting to be alone less and less. He discovered that he loves to laugh. He loves to be held and cuddled and treated softly and gently. He never knew that about himself, because no one had ever done it before. Now that he’s had a taste of it, he’s not sure how he ever lived without it.

That monster and creature, the Ghost, he had been forced to be is fading. It’s no longer clawing at his insides to escape; it’s asleep and quiet. Maybe the claw marks it left will always be there, but eventually it’ll be gone for good. All thanks to Johnny.

Johnny no longer cries every night. He did for a little bit, but Simon was there to help him through it. The scars on his legs are healing and fading away, no new ones have been added. Though, that’s because Simon locked away any sharp objects so Johnny couldn’t get to them. The only one that will be leaving marks on him is Simon.

They watch the TV for another half hour, both of them not really watching but focusing more on each other. Eventually, Johnny turns back around.

“I think I want to draw. Paint. I don’t know.”

Simon hums and smiles down at him. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Always wanted to. I drew all the time when I was a kid. Got yelled at, so I hid it for a while. Couldn’t really do it while I was enlisted and whatnot. But… I’d like to now. I always really enjoyed it.”

“I can get you paper and pencils if you’d like, Johnny.”

Johnny nods. “I like writing too. I used to keep a journal on me before my dad found out about it and burnt it. I wanna do it again.”

“I can buy you a notebook too.”

Johnny nuzzles his face into Simon’s stomach. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. I want you to be happy, baby. And if that will make you happy, then I’ll gladly do it for you.”

Johnny smiles as he looks up at Simon. “What about you? What do you like?”

Simon cocks his head. “What do you mean?” The only thing he can remember ever being passionate about or wanting is Johnny. In fact, the only thing he can remember remotely liking is him.

“Is there anything you wanna do? Hobbies? Activities?”

“I think my favorite activity is you, love,” Simon teases, kissing Johnny’s forehead and making noises like he’s pretending to eat him.

Johnny laughs, pushes Simon away, then says, “I know that very well by now you insatiable fuck. But… I want you to be your own person too. I want you to be someone outside of me. I want… I want you to be Simon and me be Johnny, and be our own people while also being in love with each other.” Johnny cups Simon’s face. That perfect, devastatingly handsome face. “I wanna know Simon. I wanna know what you’re interested in, what makes you laugh, what your feelings are, what your thoughts are. I wanna know you. Not Ghost. Not whatever you’ve been told you should be.”

Simon tears up a little bit, but manages to hold him back. “I want that too,” he says, “just as long as Johnny can belong to Simon.”

“Of course,” Johnny says back, “As long as Simon can belong to Johnny too.”

Simon smiles and kisses Johnny, on the lips this time. “Of course.”

They lay there and kiss for a while, eventually Johnny finding his way into Simon’s lap so he doesn’t have to keep bending over. The kisses don’t feel sexual, like they’re going to lead to something else. They only say “I love you. I love you so much and I want to know you and be with you”.

Simon breaks the kiss apart. “I’m… I’m honestly not sure what I’m passionate about. I never had a hobby or interests growing up- I think. I can’t remember my childhood. It got tortured out of me along with most of my humanity. And afterwards, I was Ghost. The military didn’t need a guy that wanted to be a person and pursue what interested him, they needed a weapon. So that’s what I was. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Yes you do,” Johnny says lightly, his face mere centimeters from Simon’s.

Simon furrows his brows in confusion.

“You do know how to be something else other than Ghost. I’ve seen it. You love making stupid fucking dad jokes about the army. Every Tuesday at 5pm you find time to sit in the common area and watch that show you like. I always catch you whittling at pieces of wood when we’re camped out and waiting for an enemy.” Johnny strokes the side of Simon’s face. “Maybe you havent found yourself fully. But I think you will. And I think you’ve found more than you think.”

Simon softly smiles and nuzzles his face into Johnny’s hand. “Thank you.”

Johnny kisses him again, gently and passionately. Maybe it’s a bit of an oxymoron to want them to belong to each other and also be their own person, but it makes perfect sense inside their heads.

They break apart and smile into each other’s lips, laughing a little bit. Johnny peppers Simon’s face in kisses before saying “I’m so happy you love me back.”

Simon laughs and holds Johnny’s hands that are cupped over his face. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect.”

Johnny kisses him one more time on his forehead before saying, “I was just scared. No one’s ever loved me before you. I would have little crushes on guys in school and they’d always reject me because they either wanted a girl or they wanted a real man. I was expecting you to react the same. I also… thought that you were out of my league a little bit.”

Simon kisses Johnny fiercely. “Never. I’ve only ever seen you for who you are, Johnny. You’re a brilliant, beautiful man. Doesn’t matter to me one bit what you got between your legs. I love you, so I’ll love whatever’s down there too.”

Simon can’t imagine a world where he doesn’t love Johnny, which makes it hard to understand Johnny’s old fears. Loving him feels as intrinsic to his being as, well… breathing. Blinking. His heart beating in his chest. He hadn’t thought of the idea of ending up with a transgender man, hell, he had only ever heard of trans women before he met the guy. But that hadn’t mattered to him. Johnny is a man, and Simon is in love with him. What parts he did or didn’t have didn’t change that fact.

Johnny’s heart skips a beat as Simon says those words. God, he’d been waiting to hear someone say that to him since he was 14 and got rejected for the first time. He’s laid awake at night dreaming about a man feeling that way towards him, until eventually he stopped dreaming and gave it a rest, declaring himself forever single.

Maybe he never really stopped dreaming.

“I love you too, Simon.” Johnny says, “And I haven’t said it yet, but by god you’re right bonnie too. When I woke up and saw you laying on me that first morning you took me here, the first thing I thought about was how gorgeous you are. You’re fucking devastating to look at.”

Simon is all smiles. He never thought he’d feel good about being called beautiful, but hearing Johnny‘s words makes his heart sing.

His face would be unappealing to most. He has a big nose with a bump in it, downturned eyes, and his lips are thin. Not to mention the scars that adorn his cheeks and chin, making him look like a mottled beast. But Johnny likes it, loves it even. Maybe he is beautiful after all. Maybe it doesn’t matter if everyone else thinks he’s ugly. Who cares if no one would want to see him on a magazine cover? Johnny loves the way he looks, and really, that’s all that matters to him.

“I remember when I first saw you on the tarmac after getting off the plane,” Simon stars, “it felt like all the tendons and fibers in my heart were attaching themselves to you. I think I made a plan that night to hack into the base’s security cameras so that I can keep an eye on you all the time. And I think a week later was when I went into your room to watch you sleep and steal your underwear.”

Johnny laughs. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

Simon smiles. “Yeah. But I don’t think you mind it very much.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Simon grips onto Johnny’s hips as they start to kiss again, forcing him to grind down on him.

“Fuck-“ Simon grunts, “I can’t remember how many times I jacked off to pictures I took of you when you were in your room, the shower, on missions…”

Johnny laughs into his mouth. “I’d love to see those pictures sometime. I gotta make sure I look pretty.”

“You always look pretty.”

They go back to kissing, Johnny grinding his sore cunt down into Simon’s hardening package. He has no idea how two men in their thirties are able to fuck so many times a day, but for some reason he’s been insatiable, like his body hasn’t got the memo he’s not 16.

Simon deepens the kiss, deeply breathes in Johnny’s scent, then snaps and throws him onto the couch on his back. He climbs on top of him and covers his entire body with his own. He loves how much bigger he is than Johnny. It makes him feel like he can shield him from the entire world as long as he’s in his arms.

“Sure your cock ain’t broken yet?” Johnny teases, “You’ve gotta be shooting blanks after this morning.”

Simon growls and bites down on Johnny’s neck. “You cannot comprehend how much I need you all the fucking time. It’s not possible for me to go dry around you.”

Johnny gasps and digs his nails into Simon’s back through his shirt. “Your dick is gonna end up killing me, Si.”

“You can take it,” Simon says, “I’ll make sure you will.”

Johnny bites down on his lip as Simon starts to add more bite marks and hickeys to his neck, joining the ones left there from that morning.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck me till I can’t think?” Johnny breathes, “till I can’t walk or open my eyes? Don’t think you can.”

Hearing that, Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s throat and squeezes, cutting off his air supply. Johnny’s hands fly to Simon’s wrist to try and take it off, but it’s a futile struggle. His legs kick, but they can’t move very much under Simon’s body.

“Not so cocky anymore, are ya Johnny?” Simon teases, his mouth curled into a wicked smile. “Can’t be such a little shit with my hand around this pretty throat of yours, huh?”

Johnny struggles to get out words as his vision starts to get a little fuzzy. Even though Simon is more than capable of killing him right now, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life.

Simon releases his grip, but keeps his hand on Johnny’s throat. Johnny gasps and huffs as his face starts to return to a normal color and his vision becomes clearer. He smiles.

“Do it again, Si.”

Simon slaps Johnny across the face as his hand slowly starts to squeeze again. “Who knew my boy was so dirty? Who knew John MacTavish was a little fucking slut that likes to be smacked and choked?”

Johnny smiles as his vision starts to fog up again. He wants to say, you knew. You knew I liked this and I needed you and that’s exactly why you’ve done all this.

Simon smacks Johnny across the face one more time before he takes his hand off his neck so he can take off his pants. Honestly, he doesn’t know why he bothered to bring clothes for either of them. They just seem to get in the way.

It’d be much better if Johnny was naked and on display for him all the time, like his little trophy.

“You think a little bit of choking and smacking is gonna do me in? I don’t think so,” Johnny laughs, trying to egg Simon on so he gets harsher, “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

Simon grunts and rips off Johnny’s boxer briefs, which are now soaked with his slick.

“I think these pants of yours tell a different story,” Simon grins, “How ‘bout I use them to shut your lying mouth up so your other pair of lips can tell me the truth, yeah?”

Simon shoves the underwear into Johnny’s mouth, the taste of himself flooding his taste buds. Fuck. He never thought being forced to taste himself would be such a turn on for him.

Simon shoves three fingers into Johnny’s hole, making him scream through the gag and grip onto the couch. He’s still pretty relaxed and loose after that morning, but taking three of Simon’s thick fingers with no warning still made his cunt burn and ache. He’s starting to fall in love with it.

Simon jackhammers away at Johnny’s cunt, his other hand wrapped nicely around his throat. He isn’t choking, just telling Johnny that he better behave, or else he knew what was coming. Although, the promise of being choked would probably make Johnny act up just so he could get it. There really is no way to punish his boy.

Well, actually, there’s one way.

Simon keeps abusing Johnny’s poor hole, until he sees the signs of his orgasm coming up. He stops just before the moment of climax, making Johnny writhe and buck his hips to try and chase his hand.

Johnny’s eyes widen. So they’re going to play this game again? That’s fine. He can take it, no problem. Edging really isn’t that big of a deal. Or at least that’s what he tells himself so he doesn’t have to admit to himself that his defeat is imminent.

Simon laughs. “Not so cocky and bratty now that you know I’m not gonna let you cum, huh?” Simon slowly strokes Johnny’s cock, making him twitch. “I’ll make you break, boy. You’ll be a mindless begging slut here soon.”

Johnny smiles through the gag and shakes his head.

Simon tears his hand from his throat and smacks him across the face, then backhands him, then puts his hand back where it was to choke him as hard as he can. Red prints in the shape of Simon’s hands are starting to bloom on his face. Simon loves seeing his marks on his boy, although a piece of him wishes they were more permanent. He’s sure there’s something he can do to satiate that craving.

Simon shoves his fingers back in, relishing in the way Johnny’s body twitches as he starts to fight for air. He loosens his grip on Johnny’s neck and lets him breathe as he really starts to pound away at him again. He doesn’t want to hurt him, after all. Just rough him up a little bit.

Just as Johnny reaches the edge again, Simon takes away his fingers. Johnny whines through the gag as his eyes start to water. Fuck, he really hates edging.

“Aww, are you ready to stop being a fucking brat, Johnny?” Simon coos, his voice demeaning.

Johnny thinks that Simon has to be a fool to think he’ll give in that easily. He shakes his head and spits the gag out. “In your dreams, Si.”

Simon sneers and quickly pushes Johnny onto the floor, grabbing his arms and pinning them to his back.

Deep down, Johnny knows he’s going to give in. He doesn’t even really want to be a brat or a little shit, he just likes when Simon gets rough with him, and being an ass is the best way to get it. He really could just ask, as he’s sure Simon would do anything to make him happy, but that’s not nearly as fun as watching him get angrier and get more violent with him because of it.

Simon spanks Johnny with as much force as he can give, which is a metric fuck ton. Johnny gasps and his back arches from the pain. Fuck. That felt like it’s going to bruise his goddamn bones.

“I know you want my cock. And you’re not gonna get it until you start apologizing and begging.” Simon spreads Johnny’s legs apart and cups his cunt with his hand, then smacks him as hard as he can.

Johnny yelps and releases noises he has no control over as Simon lays down more smacks to his throbbing pussy. His body is twitching and turning in ways he couldn’t stop if he tried, involuntarily trying to get away from the pain unleashed on his most sensitive area.

When Simon relents, Johnny is a twitchy mess with drool pouring out of his mouth. But he’s not completely mindless yet.

Simon shoves four fingers in, stretching Johnny as wide as he’s ever been. His cunt is gushing around the digits, trying to suck them in and keep them there so he can cum. As Simon fucks him with just one hand, the other raining down smacks to his ass before gripping onto his hair to pull his head back, Johnny’s tongue lolls out of his mouth and his eyes roll back into his head.

“Dirty fucking bitch,” Simon grunts, “should tie you up with a nice dildo and vibrator and leave you there for a few hours. That’ll teach you not to be a fucking brat.”

Johnny shakes his head and pushes his ass into the air.

“Want- want you Simon, please,” he says.

“Is that begging, Johnny?” Simon asks, taking his fingers out just before Johnny can cum, “Are you gonna be my good boy, then?”

Johnny nods. “Y-yes, good boy- good boy just f’you, fuuuuck.”

Simon smiles as he lovingly caresses down Johnny’s sides, admiring his bright red ass and dripping cunt.

“I know you are. You’re always my good boy,” Simon says, leaning down to kiss Johnny’s shoulder blade, “You just like when I get rough with you, yeah? Think you gotta be a brat to get it?”

“Mhm,” Johnny hums, incapable of speech.

Simon laughs. “I know, baby. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Johnny nods again, because he knows that fact is unquestionably true.

“You’ll get what you want. Gotta make my boy happy, afterall.”

Simon grabs his cock and lines it up with Johnny’s hole, and pushes it in with no resistance. He’s buried to the hilt in a matter of seconds, his fingers having done a good job to loosen his boy up.

Johnny whines as he’s filled up again, a dumb smile appearing on his face. Simon grabs his arms and pins them to his back again, his other hand grabbing Johnny’s hair and tugging his head back.

He starts to fuck into him, not bothering to be gentle at first. His boy can take any abuse Simon puts him through.

Johnny sees stars and the light of heaven as Simon pounds away at him, making the burning in his core dissipate and instead replacing it with the best pleasure he’s felt in his life. He can’t think, can’t speak, can only lay there and take it, let himself be used.

This is what he’s been needing his entire life. Someone to treat him softly, take care of him, treat him like the special and fragile thing he is, but also know when he needs to be beaten and fucked within an inch of his life.

“Look so pretty like this,” Simon grunts, “I love seeing you become my little plaything, baby. Love seeing you be my good little boy.”

Johnny nods as drool continues to dribble out of his mouth and down his chin. His body tenses as he start to cum, squirting all over Simon’s legs and the floor, but Simon doesn’t let up. He continued his brutal pace, sending Johnny into the waters of overstimulation and making him even more brainless than he was before.

Johnny cums twice more before Simon finishes for the first time, but Simon is just as insatiable as him, and once is not nearly enough. He has no idea how many times he’s climaxed when Simon relents. He doesn’t even know what his own name is or where he’s at.

Simon pants heavily as he pulls out of Johnny’s sopping cunt. He watches as his cum leaks out of his hole and mixes with the literal puddle of Johnny’s cum spread over the floor.

He smiles as he admires the way Johnny lays there, boneless and nearly passed out. A state of being that only Simon can put him in.

He has absolutely no regrets over anything he’s ever done, because all of that has brought him here, admiring his fucked out boy that makes him happier than anything else on the planet ever could.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty ghost #john mactavish #ghoap #ghost x soap #cod mw3 #cod mwiii #ghostsoap #soapghost #John soap mactavish #ghoap fic #ghoap fanfic #Simon ghost Riley x John soap mactavish #Simon Riley x John mactavish

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xf-cases-solved · 3 days ago

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S2E10: Red Museum

Case: Bro, don't make me try to summarize "Red Museum," so many things happen and every single one of them is baffling.

You know what? This entire episode feels like an SNL Stefon sketch, so I'm going to write it as one.

If you're looking for a monster-of-the-week X-Files tale centering around obscure religions, look no further. Fox network's hottest new episode is "Red Museum." This episode has everything. A cult of creepy vegetarians who all wear red turbans and whose sermons are all written on the fly by a dude who has a really impressive WPM. Children wandering around the woods in their underwear with "HE/SHE IS ONE" written on their backs with black Sharpie. Walk-ins.

Oh, what's a walk-in? It's that thing where a body's original soul is replaced by a new, different soul for some reason.

But that's okay if that's not for you. If what you're looking for is a story about a deep-seated conspiracy of unethical medical experiments, look no further. Fox network's hottest new episode is still "Red Museum." This episode has everything. An awkward road trip with an old man out into the countryside where he tells you his life story, unprompted. A random plane crash implicating the local doctor. Bovine somatotropin.

Oh, what's bovine somatotropin? It's that thing where you genetically engineer a growth hormone and give it to cows to make them produce more milk.

Still not what you're looking for? That's no problem. For those of you itching for some more myth arc plot, look no further. Fox network's hottest new episode continues to be fucking "Red Museum." This episode has everything. A middle-aged white man you're somehow supposed to distinguish from the millions of other middle-aged white men and remember that he's the guy that killed Deep Throat. A complete lack of usable evidence. Purity Control derivatives.

Oh, what's Purity Control? It's that thing from "The Erlenmeyer Flask" where you mix human DNA with alien DNA to conduct a series of experiments on the unsuspecting human population.

Also, there's a perv creeping on kids through peepholes.

Anyway. This episode... goes some places.

Moving on.

Does someone die in the cold open: My notes say, "no death in CO, but that kid is fucked up," which I feel is a good summary.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: YES!! Our boy and his projector have finally been reunited at last! He hasn't done a slideshow since "Tooms," which actually makes it all make sense now, bc that was the one he did in court that made me (and Scully) want to die from secondhand embarrassment. Maybe Scully had been keeping the projector locked away until he proved he could be trusted with it. She had the key to the storage closet in her pocket when she was abducted.

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Yeah, nah.

Whodunit: Bro, I don't fucking know. All of them. They all did it. Every single person is complicit. You're complicit. I'm complicit. Just blow the planet up and start over.

Convictions: 🙄😒

Did they solve it: Last line of the episode is "this case remains open and unsolved," soooooo. I'm not even giving them a "no, but" bc they didn't even manage to keep Deep Throat's killer alive long enough to get any useful information out of him. Maybe they shouldn't have given you guys the X-Files back, actually...

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

This episode is sponsored by: Part one of this five part SNL Stefon YouTube compilation for those of you who had no idea wtf I was referencing up there

youtube

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 15 (they haven't solved anything since fucking "blood," and technically they weren't even on the x-files then. they haven't solved a genuine x-file since "roland," and i only gave them that one out of pity. time to just keep the x-files closed and assign them to the department that tracks down people who pirate movies. mulder & scully and the search for the Truth 20-something college kid making copies of jurassic park to give to his cousin in exchange for weed)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me": 9

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 6

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 14 (i think they technically both could have gotten blown up, right?)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 14 (i expected these two stats specifically to be more disproportionate, but so far they're pretty even huh)

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 19 (bbq napkin scene. she wants to devour those ribs and then devour him)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 5

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 21

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Times Someone Correctly Guesses a Password: 3

Total Number of (Plot Relevant) Nosebleeds: 5

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 4 (it was just gas, but it was on the floor of a slaughterhouse, directly underneath a hanging hunk of beef, and there was a very obvious red can labeled "gasoline" sitting three feet away on the floor, so i feel like he could have made that inference without sticking his hand in it)

Total Number of Times People Fight in a Parking Garage: 1

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 4

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 2

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 16

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 3

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 3

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 3 (no more krycek for right now 😔. mulder's projector has returned, but still we lie in wait for rat boy's resurgence)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 13½ (not only did i not know, but i wrote this up over the course of two days, and had already forgotten by the time i got to this stat even tho i looked it up yesterday)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 7 (i am still not convinced i followed the whole thing. i don't think it's possible)

#txf cases solved #s2e10: red museum #msr #txf #the x-files #Youtube

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