#but my heart is overflowing with love for this game and what it gave me personally 🫶

[basedonconjecture]

The criticisms of Veilguard matter so little to me because I got to watch Just Some Guy gather a group of beautiful and intelligent people who then pooled what little resources they had against an oppressive force trying to drag their home into its Make Thedas Great Again era and they were able to set their respective differences aside to stop that from happening. And frankly idc if it makes it Disneyfied for you, that shit’s so chock full of fucking hope that I, personally, desperately needed to see that I don’t care that they say ‘okay’ 47262627483 times 👍

[lovelettersfromluna]

Wasted Summers

Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.

an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)

Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!

You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.

You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?

“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.

Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.

“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.

“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.

She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.

“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.

“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.

Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.

She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.

And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…

You couldn’t help but want more.

Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.

“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.

You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.

A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.

Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.

You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.

“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.

But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.

“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.

You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.

“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.

And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.

“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.

Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.

But she doesn’t.

She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.

You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.

You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.

Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.

“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.

“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.

She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.

When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?

That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.

Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.

Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.

Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.

While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.

Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.

You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.

You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.

However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.

You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.

You didn’t even text Ellie.

And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.

So now shes worried.

Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.

And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.

Ellie is a coward.

She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.

That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.

You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.

The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.

And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.

It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.

You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.

Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.

She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.

As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.

She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…

To….

To tell you how in love with you she was.

For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.

And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.

In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.

So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.

The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.

Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.

When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.

“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.

Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.

You were sick.

And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.

“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.

“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.

Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.

“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.

She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.

“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.

A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.

You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.

There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.

She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.

“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.

“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.

“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.

She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.

“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.

She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.

Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.

She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.

Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.

She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.

The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.

“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.

Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.

“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.

Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.

“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.

Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.

You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.

“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.

Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.

It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.

Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.

Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.

So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.

Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.

Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.

Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.

When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.

It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.

Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.

You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.

Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.

“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.

“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.

“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.

“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.

“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.

She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.

“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.

And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.

You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.

“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.

“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.

A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.

But you don’t.

“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.

“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.

Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.

She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.

You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.

Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.

The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.

And so, she begins to panic.

“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.

Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.

“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.

“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.

“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.

“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.

After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.

“My throat kinda hurts…”

[leighsartworks216]

I Heart You

Sylus x gn!Reader

I was struggling so hard against the abyss that is writer's block yesterday and then this suddenly came out of me

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, children, parenthood, silly, kissing, references to Sylus's Mountain Journey and myth

Word Count: 1,152

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Something touches Sylus's face, undeniably the felt tip of a marker. It tickles his cheek. Stifled giggles tell him exactly who is behind it.

The marker clicks shut and he strikes, grabbing the culprit and hugging them close to his chest while they squeal with surprise. "What mischief have you gotten into now?" he asks, leveling a narrowed stare at his daughter.

She laughs freely now, with a smile so bright it lights up the entire N109 Zone. "None!"

"Oh, really? Then what's that in your hand?"

"Nothing!" she giggles out. She tries to throw the marker away, but his Evol catches it midair and brings it right back to him. "That's cheating!"

He chuckles. "You're sneaking around to attack a poor, defenseless man while he sleeps, but I'm cheating when I catch you red-handed?" He pokes the capped end of the marker to her cheek. "What did you draw on my face?"

She sits up, slipping down to sit in his lap. Maybe it's his fault for thinking it was safe to drift off in the living room chair, open and exposed for his devilish child to have free rein in messing with him. Tiny hands reach up to hold his face.

"You have to guess!"

"Do I? Well..." He pretends to think about it for a moment. Truth be told, he recognized the shape immediately, from a time years before his baby dragon was born. A time before she was even a concept. "Is it Mephisto?"

She giggles again and shakes her head.

"No? How about... a self-portrait?"

"What's that?"

"A drawing of you."

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh, not me."

"Is it a drawing of me, then?"

"Nope!"

He sighs, as though this game is simply far too difficult for him. "I need a hint. Can you trace it for me?"

Sylus gets almost giddy at the feeling of her little finger as it follows the drawn shape on his cheek. It's overwhelming, sometimes, the love he has for his little girl. An ache forms in his chest every time he remembers he gets to watch her grow up. He has to swallow it down even now to focus solely on their little game.

"I know what it is," he says once she's traced it twice. He smiles. "It's a heart."

Her eyes light up as she nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! Missus Staf- Stef-"

"Stefano."

"Stef-ano said that it means 'love' and that we should give the people we love a heart to show we love them!" She pokes his cheek, right in the center of the heart. "Cuz I love you!"

Sylus chuckles softly, heart overflowing. He hugs her to him again and kisses her chubby little cheek. "I love you too, sweetie. Do you want me to give you a heart?"

She looks up at him like the thought never occurred to her that she could get a heart in return. She nods. "Yeah!"

"Okay, but we shouldn't draw on people's faces. Give me your hand."

He uncaps the marker with one hand. With his other, her little hand rests in his palm, dwarfed by the sheer size of it. In two quick lines, a heart is drawn on the back of her hand. She turns her hand every which way to see it. She looks at it like it's worth a billion dollars.

The door to the room clicks open. "Sweetie, I told you to leave daddy alone while he's napping."

She doesn't process that she's being scolded at all as she climbs out of his lap and runs to the door where you stand, hand outstretched. "Look, look! Daddy gave me a heart! Cuz Missus Stef-an- Stef-"

"Stefano," you supply.

"Cuz Missus Stef-an-o said to give a heart to the people we love!"

You smile. "That's very sweet, baby! It's beautiful."

"I had to return the favor," Sylus says, showing you her own crudely drawn heart on his cheek. There's a knowing gleam in his eye. "You need one, too, beloved."

Your daughter is immediately taken with the idea. She grabs your hand and bounces on her feet as she drags you over. "Yeah, yeah! We should all have one!"

You sit on one of Sylus's legs as she crawls up into the other. He passes the marker back to her. "Not on the face," he gently reminds her.

"Right!" She grabs your hand to hold it in place (rather clumsily) so she can draw the heart. She tries to be more careful with it this time, to make it extra pretty. The lines end up wobbly and the heart is larger on one side than the other, but she beams at her masterpiece when she's finished. "Now we all have hearts!"

"Did you give uncle Luke and uncle Kieran hearts, too?" Sylus asks.

She gasps. "Oh no! They need hearts!" She scrambles off his leg, nearly falling to the floor in her haste. In no time at all, she's out the door and on a mission.

In the quiet left in her wake, Sylus picks up your hand and interlaces your fingers. He places little kisses to your knuckles. You readjust in his lap to rest your head on his shoulder, taking in the rare peaceful moment.

"Too bad she took the marker with her." You poke his bare cheek with your free hand. "I could've given you a heart from me."

He looks down at you with a smile. "It's still there, from our little roadtrip."

"I'm surprised you remember that."

"Of course I remember it," he scoffs. "We still need to go back there, after all."

You smile wistfully. "The tree..."

He nods with a hum, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "It's almost been a decade. We can bring her along, tell her the story about it."

Memories flood through you. Back then, you were both holding back, truth be told. Real affection hidden under teasing and banter. It was safer to hide under that layer of protection. You're glad you don't have to hide anymore.

You trace your fingers along his jaw to guide his mouth to yours. A kiss so sweet and simple, soft and slow. He lets out a noise of contentment against your lips. When he pulls away, he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning triumphantly when you giggle at the ticklish touch.

"You can get back to your nap now," you tell him, voice just a whisper.

He shakes his head before you can get off him. "It's almost dinnertime. I'll help you cook." His arms wrap around your back and under your knees, lifting you effortlessly as he stands and carries you out of the lounge.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek once more. "I heart you, Sy," you say teasingly.

He chuckles and rubs his cheek against your head until your laugh fills the air. "I heart you, too, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[lizzyk137]

A Night of Brownies and Wine- Agent Gibbs Fanfic (Gibbs X Reader)

Summary: When your brain overthinks, Gibbs tells you his feelings. Warnings: Angst, fluff, really light mention of sexual activity, overthinking

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby screamed out as she hurriedly made her way towards his desk.

"What, Abs?" He looked up over his glasses that was perched on his nose.

Her chunky heeled shoes came to a halt by his desk. "Have you seen Y/N?"

He took off his glasses. "No, why?"

"She was supposed to meet me and McGee tonight for our weekly gaming night, but she never showed up and we can't trace her phone so I thought I'd find you because you might know where she was." Abby said all in one breath.

"I haven't seen her all day. I'll let you know if I find her." He gave a small smile to Abby as he collected his items, giving her a small kiss on the cheek and headed towards the elevators.

He made his way to his truck and headed home. He knew where you were, he could easily read you and could always find your location depending on your mood. And today he knew exactly where he could find you.

He opened the front door and headed for the kitchen; a chocolate mess was the only thing that was left to show you were there. He headed for the basement door, where the quiet sound of pop music made its way to his ears.

Heading down the steps he found you in one of his oversized NCIS shirts, no pants wearing your fluffy slippers as you swayed to a K-pop ballad, a brownie in one hand and a bottle of rose in the other. Gibbs leaned against the railing as he watched you, a smirk spreading across his lips while he watched your hips sway back and forth.

"You know you have your own place to do this in." He called out, watching you jump slightly before turning around to face him.

"Yeah, but my house doesn't have a boat in it. Plus, I know you love my brownies amongst other things." You winked as Gibbs walked over to you, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs took off his long coat and draped it over your shoulders, his warmth enveloping you.

You shook your head, setting down your brownie and bottle of wine on a random small table around Gibbs' boat. "Nothing is wrong. It's just my brain being silly."

Gibbs' hands grabbed your hips and backed you up, your butt lightly bumping into the boat behind you. One hand cupped the side of your face, his fingers tangling into your hair, the other hand still on your hip. "Y/N, your brain is not silly. Tell me."

You looked away and blew out a breath. "Just this undercover op has my brain overthinking."

"About what?"

"About us!" You could feel the tears prickling your eyes, threatening to overflow, but you wouldn't let them.

"What about us?"

"That all we are is just work." Your voice was barely a whisper, because you didn't have the heart to admit what you had with Gibbs louder.

You knew work was always going to be the number one priority for him, the constant in his life. You were just something new that was stumbled upon, not something to be around long term. The whole agency knew you two were an item, so any undercover ops or improv on the job always had you two as a couple, but those moments were sweeter, and more love filled than the times you were alone together. It felt like all you were ever going to be was simply just a cover, no matter how hard you tried not to admit it. You knew the truth.

Gibbs didn't love you. Not like you loved him. He may love you in the same way he loved Abby or Ziva except with extra perks, but that was it. He never asked to see you, never asked you out on dates, never had been over to your place, drove in your car, asked about your family, hell, he never even asked about you. And you finally admitted it to yourself.

So, you decided to drown your sorrows in many bottles of wine and brownies.

And there he was, Gibbs, this amazing man who never really talked but always seemed to know what to do, and he was standing in front of you with his hands gently cradling your body, his eyes fill with confusion and worry as he looked at you.

Gibbs opened his mouth then closed it and thought for a second before asking, "What does right now count as?"

"I don't mean right now," you sighed the continued, "I mean the rest of the time. It's always work, never just us."

"I-I don't know what to say." Gibbs stuttered as he watched the woman he loves start to crumble in front of him. Her eyes were watery, but she wasn't letting the tears fall down, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see her cry. He'd never seen her cry in all the years he's known her. Not when she broke any of her bones, not when she was slammed into a concrete wall and hit her head, not when she lost her grandma. She had held herself together, at least in front of him.

"You never say anything!" Your voice raised, and you turned your back on him, tears slowly rolling down your face.

Gibbs hands slid back down when she turned away from him. What could he do? She was upset and he understood why. He didn't do enough. Wasn't what she needed.

He had always been about work since Kelly and Shannon passed away and nothing had changed over the years with his ex-wives or his past relationships. He didn't think anything of it. Nothing he did was any different than what he has done and now that she said something out loud, he realized that all those past relationships had never worked out because of what he was doing. He was doing absolutely nothing.

His thoughts were interrupted when a sob escaped from the woman in front of him.

"Y/N..." His voice cracked; he couldn't help feeling his heart shatter when that sob reached his ears. He brought his body closer to yours, his arms circling your body. "I- I know I'm not good enough for you. I don't put much effort into anything but work, but I do love you. I'm not good with words." He stopped for a second and rested his forehead against the back of your head. "I don't want to see you cry. I understand if you don't stay but I don't want to lose you."

The pain in his voice was front and center and you couldn't hear anything else but that. You turned around in his arms and sighed before nuzzling your head into his chest.

"Words aren't enough, Jethro."

"I know. I can't promise I'll be a changed man right off, but I'll try my hardest to be better."

"All I ask for is to be more present in this relationship. To have it not be all about work." Your voice muffled as you spoke into his chest.

"Well, we both have tomorrow night off. Why don't we go to that little Italian place that you were telling Tony about?"

"How did you know that?"

"I may not say much but I listen, especially when it comes to you."

You giggled; face still pressed into his chest. "Really?"

"Really." He kissed the top of your head and squished you tighter to him. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too." You looked up at him with a smile. "So, I made some brownies, do you want some?"

"You sure as hell know I want some." He smirked before picking you up, a giggling scream coming out of your throat, as he headed up stairs to the bedroom.

[crystalofmoon19]

Striker x Mexican (Latina) Reader - Headcannons

● You certainly caught his interest when he noticed that you had Hispanic roots, he had already met some people of your same origins in Wrath, a clear example of that was the mariachis that always sang songs about him. Even though he was sick of them, seeing that in you was endearing.

● He already knew some words in Spanish, but when he heard you speak them he already had his eyes on you, you had a rather distinctive accent that he couldn't miss.

● One day he decided to speak in Spanish with you and that had produced interesting results, as you found yourself constantly correcting him on his sentences.

● It was a low blow to his big ego and you couldn't have more fun with this.

"So, what does "vil víbora'" mean?"

"Oh, that means vile viper in spanish."

"Wait! You were calling me like that this whole time?"

"Of course I did, what did you expect?"

"I thought you were flirting with me!"

● He definitely had to learn a lot of Spanish and you also had no problems teaching him your native language.

● You stood out from many other girls he had known because of how brave you were, you exuded great energy wherever you went, you even dared to play the pain games at the harvest moon festival and you had to fight him. Even though you lost to him, you never gave up and continued giving everything until your body could no longer resist, with that you earned Striker's respect, very few could do what you did.

● You had a melodious voice that you used to sing some songs in Spanish and every time Striker heard them he couldn't help but feel enthralled by them. It's as if you were a kind of siren attracting him with your song.

● You were easy to get angry and overflowed with a lot of emotions, Striker liked that, but above all things he saw that you had a big heart. You loved your family and your friends, and you did everything in your power to help them, you even helped him as much as you could and Striker was captivated by that.

● He made a great effort to go out with you, since apparently you were very resistant to his charms and you are ultimately the girl who had the hardest time conquering of all of them, he even had to ask the mariachis for help one day to give him options to conquer you

● Striker had to serenade you with the help of his mariachis along with a romantic dinner for you to even accept him on the first date.

● However, when you formalized their relationship, all the time invested was worth it.

● You were extremely affectionate with him, you hugged him and kissed him whenever you could, you called him "mi amor" (my love), "mi vida" (my life), "mi güero" (my blondie) and "papi" (daddy). When you explained to him the meaning of all those words, he puffed out his chest with pride.

● He for his part called you "darlin'", "sugarcube", "sunshine", "sugah'" and sometimes "hun" and you were happy with this.

● But just as you could be affectionate you could also get angry with him, when you found out that Striker had done something bad, you were the first to point it out to him and you would slap him or pull his ear. And as a last punishment you sent him to sleep on the couch for a week or more; Striker quickly learned to be obedient to you after that.

● You also had your arguments, after all you both had a phlegmatic nature, his pride and your passion could clash many times, but despite everything yo two resolved your differences to correct your mistakes and work as a team.

● When you introduced Striker to your family, it was the first time in a long time that he felt nervous, he didn't want to make the best impression but he also didn't want to be on bad terms with your parents.

● Fortunately your mother accepted Striker without much problem and your father, although it took him longer to accept him, he ended up doing so when he saw that you two loved each other.

● You and Striker have taken care of your little siblings hundreds of times, Striker didn't like taking care of children, but when he saw you were so motherly with your little siblings. He thought that you could be the ideal mother of his children and from then on he thought about always being by your side.

● Oh yes, you two also watch Hell-a-Novela together on TV, it's your favorite show and Striker knows it. That's why whenever he sees it with you, he says that you're the Gabriella to his Alejandro, to which you just laugh and agree saying the same thing.

[hwaightme]

The meaning of 'Jeong'

☔ pairing: yunho x f!reader ☔ genre: comfort, fluff, angst ☔ summary: jeong (정/情) - the intimate and warm feeling, the closeness and affection arising from one's relationship with another person. ☔ wordcount: 5.8k ☔ warnings/tags: stress, a lot of work stress, burnout, disregard for own health, language, a little arguing, yunho driving, yunho singing, business, office, implied office disrespect, no need for words when yunho knows, knight in a shining automobile, snow and rain, on the verge of a breakdown, starry night, unedited, lmk if anything else~ ☔ taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven ☔ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ☔ a/n: hello there, sometimes we are in need of some yunfort~ warmest hugs, and much love! All reblogs, comments, thoughts, notes appreciated~ Thank you so much Sky for ideating with me, inspiring me, and fueling first my San, and then my Yunho brainrots <3 would not have happened without you~

It seemed that no matter what you did, everything served to further agitate you - another penny in the bottle of emotions that was threatening to overflow if you as much as hinted at your utter exhaustion. With all your might you wanted to convince yourself that this was temporary, you were trying your best and that no matter what happened, it all would end up being for the better. But sometimes, too much was just what it was. Too much.

Your troubles had wounded themselves tightly into an impossible knot, weighing you down until you were in a hopeless crawl, barely sentient and resorting to existing on autopilot just so you could avoid tearing up in a public place. You were not about to give your colleagues the sadistic satisfaction. With hefty heaps of sarcasm and barely concealed impatience, you waded through meeting after meeting, discussing projects that had backlogs larger than your anger. Somehow, as the day progressed, what you had already deemed to be a ‘not so good day’ had managed to one, two, triple-up itself.

First, you were notified, twenty minutes before the official launch of a function update in an internal, company-wide application, that there was a severe bug found, and the release would have to be delayed until further notice. Nothing new for a product manager to hear, but considering that you had just spent two hours in a metaphorical grill with your own senior manager, as well as the director of the department, you were not about to ‘not take things to heart’. The pressure only built as you were pinging person after person, with your dual monitor glowing from all the messaging windows, fighting against the torrent of your subordinates’ uncontrollable procrastination, all an attempt to reconfigure task assignment to fit in the same sprint. You cursed the ‘agile’ framework time and time again as you upped the severity on at least seven story points for your team, and hesitantly, transferred a hefty number to yourself.

This was a never-ending cycle. One which you would never break no matter how hard you tried. Such was your job; at least that was the excuse you gave it, since the monetary compensation was good enough to be motivated to put up with was clearly draining. In calls from early morning until late in the evening. Constantly juggling everyone’s workload and having to keep your finger on the professional pulses of at least fifty people, globally. You were no stranger to having meetings at awkward hours of the day, either. As you watched your colleagues beginning to pack up and leave for home, chatting away about their families, or about some new restaurant that opened in the area, or about some sports game, you realised you were completely deflated. Looking at your calendar, there was only one meeting – with partners in the US, to go, but it felt like an impossibly daunting task. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on your eyes and tension in your neck made it impossible to sit comfortably. But you still did it. Still sat there, in your office chair, accompanied by the squadron of chronic overtime workers whose heads were dotted across the floor as far as your eye could see, and pretended like it was not nearing nine o’clock at night.

You had promised your boyfriend that you would stop drinking coffee at weird hours, him having been horrified at how you could handle the bitter beverage, while you would pretend you did not see him sneak sweetener into his mocha. But with both of you getting busier and busier, and with you additionally trying to drown out the noise that came with not seeing him as much as you would have wanted, you slipped into your routinely coffee machine visits. The rumble of the artificial barista as it brewed up your only source of energy was soothing – the one sound in the workplace that did not pose a threat to your mental health, nor to your growing headache. Every sip was a temporary lull in an otherwise chaotic corporate fiasco you had found yourself in. Oh, how you wished you could tap out; this was your only conclusion to the dull, monotonous interlocution where not once, but twice did one of your co-workers abroad show their complete ineptitude in all things technology related by failing to share screen and check chat.

As you bid farewell to the last of the officemates who you agreed to mutual acknowledgement with, you leaned back in your chair and sighed. With the pitch black night outside, the artificial fluorescence that illuminated your pallid, tired skin appeared to be stronger, drying your eyes. If you were to stay frozen for a while, they would turn off until the next sudden movement, and maybe you could catch up on a much needed nap, cutting your sleep debt by at least a few minutes. But at the same time, could you afford those few minutes? When you were left alone with your mind, the notion of productivity and achievement became skewed, and what you would previously deem to be okay, or good enough, easily moving on to the next task, now metamorphosed – daunting, demanding monsters that haunted you, highlighting their inexistent faults in a dark crimson, covering your vision. If there was free time, that was time that could be spent working, perfecting, editing. And if it was not spent in that way, it was time wasted. Simple as that. Inadvertently, you became a lethal collaborator of the very cycle you dreaded waking up for the last couple of weeks, and were now in the process of breaking it, twisting it into a downwards spiral. You were aware of this, and yet, you remained passive, dismissing all alarm bells as overdramatization. The increase in cooling coals in your ambitious fire did not phase you, for you decided you had more important things to focus on. Like staring at your emails, unable to conjure a single coherent thought.

The words were swimming in front of you, the caffeine no longer doing anything to serve you. All that was left was the chocolatey aftertaste – you had your coffee snob colleagues to thank for campaigning for having proper beans be ordered, so everyone could travel to faraway places at least through the notes the beverage had, the harvest, taste the sun that blazed down on the rolling hills proudly bearing the farmlands. Only the memory of the dark roast sticking to the roof of your mouth, an unpleasant dryness settling along with the realisation that there was no chance you would be making any more progress. You heaved another displeased sigh, and after rolling your shoulders a couple of times, pressed on the power button, seeing how your distorted reflection appeared before you as the screens went black.

It was easy to imagine ghosts waving you goodbye, as the click-clack of your heels resonated through the main reception on the ground floor of the skyscraper where you were one of the many ants. A lonely security guard stationed by the turnstiles nodded you his farewell, hearing the beep of your id card being accepted. You nodded back. He was one of the more approachable-looking guardians of the money-making machine, you had seen him shake a joke with his fellow suited-up brethren a total of two times and you were not about to discourage yourself with the accompanying thought that you had been working in the company for just over a year now. You have not had the share of your favourite megawatt grins that would have dispelled your grim disposition, so every bit of negativity had to be treated with caution. You were a ballistic missile being transported in a rickety mule-drawn cart with one wheel falling off. Bit by bit. Step by step. You just needed an uneventful commute home, so you could collapse into your bed and forget about today, until tomorrow would inevitably remind you, and so the loop would start again.

But there it was. The cherry on top of the disgusting cake. Of course, the weather had to fit the atrocious mood. Even though your calendar explicitly stated spring, and you had been more than excited to welcome the longer days and the blooming trees and bushes, the temperamental elements were bestowed upon you as what could only be an evil prank. A cocktail of clumped up snowflakes and icy cold rain beating down on the side walk, the light emanating from a nearby streetlight gaining the appearance of static due to the rapidly cutting streaks. You cursed under your breath, already saying goodbye to your felt trench coat and blaming yourself for being too optimistic and not metaphorically gluing an umbrella to your hand. It was difficult to hold the tears that began to well up and inevitably blur your vision, turning the puddles and buildings into an urban soup. You had always wanted to see yourself as strong, or at least strong enough to be able to sustain yourself and be proud of your perseverance. But as you stood there, a stride away from being soaked by the downpour, you were trying to accept that you were fated to be ‘that one passenger’ on the metro, wavelengths of stress and misery vibrating out of you. The passenger who would have everyone sitting as far as possible and obviously concerned. You looked down, watching a stray shiny wrapper float down to the curb on a stream of water, stopping once it reached the sewage drain and the holes ended up being too small. Your hands clenched into weak fists, and you trembled, the nervous lump in your throat becoming painfully noticeable and spurring on a growing flood of apprehension. Under the stormy night sky you were so small. A tiny dot that would not leave as much as a footprint, insignificant against the menacing, ceaselessly falling drops of water, like a barrage of nature’s heavy artillery. As you were about you turn up the collar of your coat in attempt to do something, anything to protect you against the rain that you were about to step into, a voice called out, in part muted by the battering of concrete, but you would still recognise it anywhere.

“Would be cool if you could answer your phone sometimes.” Your head turned sharply to the right, in the direction from which you heard the sweet, deeper set tone.

Face slightly obscured by the edge of the huge umbrella that was loyally protecting him, there, approaching you, ambled the man who you would not dare expect to spontaneously visit you. Sure, you had your share of fantasies about how it would be like to have your boyfriend pick you up from work, or to meet up for lunch together, but both you and Yunho had phenomenally chaotic work schedules, and even calls lasting for longer than five minutes had to be planned well in advance. And while you were over the moon when you could spend time with him, the recent scarcity had led into a mounting pressure for you, to maintain a lighthearted disposition, to not let your troubles interfere with him and his life outside of a busy, demanding career. While that could have been your pride talking since such an approach took courage, your comfort was not at the forefront of your mind when you chose to not tell the full story to Yunho, when you faked a smile and covered the bags under your eyes.

"You know I can't use my phone in the office." You huffed, stuffing your hands into your pockets and feeling for the device, which you preferred to keep on do not disturb unless you knew someone was meant to be contacting you.

"Well, you are not in the office anymore, Y/N. But it’s alright, I completely get you. It’s late enough for you to not even bother with it until tomorrow, honestly." Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders, and as he joined you under the roofing that protected the entrance from the mid-March cries of winter, he lowered and folded the black umbrella, revealing himself entirely to the streetlamp, and dim light emanating from the glass that guarded the reception area. You took in his divinely sculpted form, his smiling eyes and lips, and, in shock, realised that it had been far too long since you had seen this wondrous man in person.

He was dressed as though he had just stepped out of the dance studio, which, knowing Yunho, he very much might have. A beige hoodie, black tracksuit bottoms and some dual-toned sneakers to tie everything together he looked dangerously cuddly, which only further agitated you. Why did he have to come here without warning? Why did your ray of sunshine have to show up when you were nothing but a seething, thunderous raincloud?

"Thanks, Yun. But how and why are you here, exactly?" you did not mean to sound irritated, but your spent nerves were getting the best of you and took control of your speech. Yunho quirked an eyebrow but dismissed his perplexity in favour of lightening the atmosphere and cheering you up.

"My spidey senses told me you might need a knight in a shining automobile. And judging by how you don't have an umbrella, I think I'm right."

It was much more than just the lack of an umbrella; at your happiest, you were the type of person who would sing in the rain. It was the awkward hours at which you responded to his texts, the evident struggle you went through to keep your eyes open whenever you two would video call after work, but most of all it was how you so obviously held information back from Yunho that prompted him to approach his manager and carve out the time he otherwise would not have. If there was anything he learned over the half a year, and counting, of your relationship, was that you were a fighter, much like him - an energiser to a fault. You would give, give and give some more until there was nothing left for you, and then would lead yourself into the illusion that you were just being lazy when you were actually falling apart. You were putting on a brave, calm and collected face, and your hesitation to drop the mask in front of him was unnerving. If there was anyone in your present life who should be your pillar of support, a person you could trust, depend on, lean on be it emotionally or physically, it should be him. In Yunho's eyes, work and some pre-determined timetable was always adjustable when a loved one was in trouble, and hell, you were of the same opinion: when it came to racing across the city in the middle of the night just because he hinted at the fact that he had sustained an injury, you would stop the universe. So why did you not consider the basic healthy principle as something that was not applicable to you?

"But aren't you busy?" your inquiry sounded rhetorical. As though you had already formulated an answer for yourself and were unwilling to accept any other. To be frank, yes, Yunho was busy. So were you. Such was life. However, this element of your lives did not define you, nor did it imply having to take a secondary position in another’s life. Yunho shook his head, stepping closer to you until your arms were almost brushing.

There was a melancholic air to you. Days passing in minor chords, accumulating into a tune, then a song, then a symphony. Your sonata filled with dreams falling flat, and sharp comments forcing you to adjust your dynamics and rhythm. Yunho had fallen in love with the beautiful music of your heart – a beacon of kindness, selflessness and positivity, you had always been the first to encourage him, sometimes messaging or calling him before his members even had a chance to turn in his direction to wish him luck. An innate, deeper sense of what was around you, Yunho noticed time and time again how you elegantly navigated social landscapes, reading people, places and striving to simply do what was best for the situation you faced. You were one to intuitively know something was going on before it could even have the chance to consciously register.

But that also made you prone to wearing yourself out. Sacrificing yourself for those who did not deserve it, and not leaving enough to perform even the most basic human functions. Your boyfriend was always in awe of you, and how you could possibly have so much love contained in your body. As he gazed at your form while you rocked back and forth on your feet – a habitual action that he had realised was one of the most telling signs for your worry bubbling over, the strong urge to erase whatever parasitic dissonance was taking up space in your magnificent mind grew and grew until he could not resist to take your hand in his, smiling when he noticed your lips curl into the ghost of a smile as your fingers intertwined.

"Not busy to love you. No come on, let's get you home, you spent enough time in the glass box as is." He tugged on your hand, ready to open the umbrella again to lead you to the car he had parked around the corner, but you would not budge.

"I swear you had prac-"

"I am here. Okay? Here, now." He desperately wanted to bring you back into the present. What was outside of your control, and was not your decision to make should not preoccupy you, and yet if you caught onto as much as a hint of being the source of inconvenience for another, it sent you into a grim spiral. Not this time, Yunho was not going to let you keep doing this to yourself, even if it took a lifetime.

"It must have taken you so long to get here I-" your voice was growing quieter and quieter as you focused on the sensation of Yunho’s warm hand pressed against yours.

You had not realised how much you missed the feeling, and the reassurance that came with it. He was here, indeed. He was here with you. He was there for you. You raised your head as soon as he squeezed your hand a couple of times but struggled to maintain eye contact due to the evident concern written in his glimmering orbs. The tender, compassionate eyes, irises a dark mahogany hue, a safe haven in your hardship. You wished you could fall into those pools and drift into the blissful serenity they offered. At the same time, it was terrifying how he was peering right into your soul, making it seem as if your vulnerabilities were right there, on display, just for him. A shiver ran down your spine despite the layers you were wearing.

"If you checked your phone, you would now that my schedule changed." He commented, gleaming.

"Oh, so you are saying I'm wrong for worrying now?" you tried to pry yourself away, but Yunho strengthened his grip. He was not about to let you float into that headspace again.

"I don’t mean to make you angry here, just pointing a thing out." Voice level, the dulcet timbre silently posed a question to you – what was the rush? Why were you trying to run from affection?

"I am not angry! Just why is it that out of the blue you decide to appear? I would have been fine-"

"What, have other plans?"

"Uh, no? Going home?"

"So, what is there to stop me from popping by to see my girlfriend?” he pursed his lips, pulling you towards him so that you were facing him directly. Spontaneously interested in everything but his piercing scrutiny, you took to studying the white drawstrings of his hoodie.

"But… uh… well… There is like, a lot happening right now, isn’t there? For both of us? I mean… you have all that filming to do, the comeback to prepare for… you literally just came back from tour and…” you caught yourself rambling, and trailed off into the sound of rainfall.

"Hm. Figured."

Yunho nodded to himself, clicking the tip of his umbrella against the ground as though dotting a full stop on a page. Confused, you attempted to prompt him for an elaboration.

"Excuse me?"

"That you are burned out."

The phrase was a scalding hot iron thrown at the barriers you had painstakingly been building around your mind palace. You knew that it was true. Hell, if someone had just asked you to speak the truth about what you were feeling, this was the first thing that would come to mind, but were you going to say it? No. Never. What you were feeling and what influenced you was nobody else’s problem.

"Am not." It was childish, but it was the only response you could conjure without making tears well up in your eyes. Yunho was too close, too attentive, too much for your distressed and hurt heart.

"Are too."

"Look I am fine. There is nothing-” you peered at the darkness on the other side of the street. Tuned into the rustling of the trees that lined it, and wished for yourself to become part of the scenery instead of having to confront what Yunho was trying to get you to admit.

“You said there is a lot happening for both of us, and then you just list things off about me,” he was not going to let you go this easily, both in discussion and physically as he removed his hand from yours and instead placed it on your waist, “I am perfectly aware of them. I know my limits, and I know that I am managing fine only because I am honoured to have so many people supporting me. And now, I want one of these people to tell me what this ‘a lot’ means to them, and why they are now looking in the other direction.”

Your head snapped back to Yunho, revealing your misty-eyed state. Immediately, his expression softened, and he pulled you in, keeping you flush against his chest as he absent-mindedly rubbed your back with his thumb, while his other hand was keeping the wet umbrella a safe distance away from your clothing. You bit your lip as you took in Yunho’s comforting scent. He never wore any particular perfume, instead opting to smell like a mixture of fresh laundry and a miniscule hint of soap. And yet, if you could bottle this and keep it, you would in a heartbeat. To you, this was what the aroma of home, of safety was. If he wished to make you unravel your ball of troubles, this was the way to do it, you confirmed as you felt yourself automatically melt into his touch, blinking away tears that you were tired of holding. Not exactly aligned with your scheduled ‘half an hour of breaking down when you get to your apartment’, but who were you to complain about Yunho staying here with you, in the cold, adamant on defeating your inner voice that otherwise would have led you into a further darkness.  

"Let's continue this in the car, yeah?" His voice wavered, dropping into the softest whisper which jolted you out of your guards entirely, and you let yourself be guided by him to his car.

As you ambled, side by side, you were enveloped in a total silence, the raindrops forming an abstract beat on the umbrella above you. Arm around you, fingers landing just under your shoulder, Yunho was afraid of letting you go even for an instant, the fragility in your steps and fumbling for a response as he asked if his hold felt alright for you exposing your inner dejection. And once he had you and him settled in the front and driver’s seats respectively, he put the key into ignition, but did not turn it just yet. As the rain painted a blurry masterpiece on the windshield, he tilted his head, and looked at you.

“Tell me about your day.” A simple ask, but to you it felt like one of those unsolvable mathematics problems. You could lie, and on any other occasion you probably would with a classic ‘I’m fine thank you and you’, but you would be foolish to think that Yunho would buy that. If anything, he would explicitly label the nonsense for what it was and encourage you to give him a real answer with nothing but those gorgeous, hopeful eyes of his.

“It was… you know what, it was a lot. Too much even. Really, the last couple of weeks have been too much.” You uttered, annoyance starting to boil within you as you recalled the rollercoaster of events.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to weigh you don’t with it. Really, this is nothing. It will pass.” You fiddled with the buttons on the blazer, now within reach as you had unzipped your coat. Though your words were grammatically correct, nothing made sense to you. What was it that you were saying? Learned phrased out of the automatic deflection compartment, lines of defence in an effort to avoid discussion.

“Then why are you giving it so much power?” Yunho persisted.

“Uh… I don’t know, maybe because it is my job?”

“So, you get paid to have burn outs?” while he asked this in a joking manner, his smile did not spread past a brief flash. When you did not send a retort in his direction, he motioned for you to continue. You hated to admit it, but you agreed. As of late, this was exactly what your job had turned into. You being a hamster stuck in a wheel, running ceaselessly with no rest breaks in sight. Running in the hopes of there being a finish line. A success. A milestone. But all there seemed to be was more paperwork, more reporting, more meetings, more conflict, and more doubt.

“Well, now that you say that…”

“I am not one to judge professional choices and perfectionism. In fact, I respect you so much for being so dedicated, and being such a hard worker. But a siren is going off right now, okay? You are on the edge of a cliff, and we do not want you to fall off it, yeah?”

“What cliff?”

“I am an idiot for not picking up on this sooner, but now that I have, I must tell you: you are being pushed way past your limit, and you need a break. It is basically doctor’s orders.”

“But it’s just wo-”

“Tell me, what was the last thing one of your colleagues had said to you? About your work?” Yunho was no stranger to office gossip, through you having occasionally divulged to him the drama occurring in your workplace, and through the myriad of dramas he had watched with you and noticed that you often reacted to what was happening on screen as if it hit very close to home.

“Uhm… but it was not a nice thing so…”

“Say it.” Interest turned into a demand, and Yunho leaned closer to you.

“I only overheard it…”

“And? You still heard it.” Dropping his voice low, he rejected your subconscious devaluing of what had obviously been harm incurred.

“That I was trying too hard to please my boss…” a mumble escaped you, followed by a ragged sigh. Why was this so hard?

“That is fucked up.”

“…even though I was literally just doing my job. I was asked to do this report and all there was that was extra to it was me wanting to make it look pretty.” While you were not saying anything particularly heart-breaking, at least not by your definition, you choked up and had to force each word out with the strength you had left.

“I swear, humans are strange creatures,” Yunho mused out loud before chuckling, “says I, a human.”

“But that’s exactly why you can say it. And besides, you are a thoughtful human. Pretty much a blessing, Yunho. So don’t even.” Finally, a genuine grin graced your features, reminiscent of the first rays of sunlight after a merciless storm. Basking in the glow, Yunho returned it twofold and proudly wore the blush that started to rise on his cheeks. But he knew better than abandoning his mission so early on.

“Not to be cringe or anything, but to hear that coming from an angel is quite the honour.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed airily. But the moment, unfortunately, did not last long, and your day was once more overcast by rumination. Yunho did not speak, waiting for you to give him as much detail as you felt comfortable with sharing.

“Sometimes, even if I am trying my hardest, I get this sense that I might be better off shutting up and giving the others the reins.”

“So, they are disrespecting their own manager?”

“I guess it's because I am younger than them or something. I mean, I get it, it is a gnarly economic period for the company, and everyone is losing their marbles, trying to stay above the water, but it would be good if they at least took my advice into consideration.”

If looks could destroy, then the glare that Yunho sent your office building would have set it ablaze. To curb his anger, he drummed out an abstract pattern on the steering wheel, though the grip that followed it told all. He blamed himself for not having been there sooner. For letting this pain pile on until it turned to a ball and chain that progressively set out to ruin what had been your dream career. If only it was as easy to wipe away cutting words and agonising actions like faint graphite etchings on a piece of paper.

“They should know their place, that’s what," he hissed, giving the wheel one final thump before pushing himself into his seat and turning to you, "You are being too soft on them, in my opinion. And that is why they are acting out. Promise me this, you will show them that you are a frontline manager, and you are more than capable of keeping things under control-”

“I’m trying-”

“-by taking a break. People can sense weakness, especially people who are not so kind to you. And while I cannot fix their attitude, I can try my best to help you. And before you say it, you are not coming into the office on the weekend, I am booking you up.”

"How do you know I do that?"

"Over the months of video calls you really think I did not memorise that one conference room you use to call me?" He shot back, smirking as you were at a loss, the only option being to roll your eyes and give yourself up to a legally mandated holiday.

“Yunho, you are too selfless, please, I just need a couple more hours of sleep and I’ll be all sorted."

“No, I will be selfish and take care of you. So, sit back, relax, and think of happy things. And that’s an order.”

“But that is not how selfish works?”

“It does in our world. Besides, don't you want to show them who is the boss?" The cheeky boyish grin won you over, and you beamed, whispering an amused:

"Unbelievable..."

Falling in love with Yunho did not give you butterflies in your stomach. If anything, it calmed the anxious knots that accumulated over however long the time between you being in each other's presence was. Sure, you would be okay without one another. Living life, achieving what you wanted to achieve. Brought down by the gloomy days but rising again. But together, those days were just so much less gloomy. The, what could only be described as innate, trust that you had formed in one another, was the invisible string tying you together in the gift that was your present. Falling and being in love with Yunho was like a warm day in the spring, a promise for new life, for blue skies and for a warm breeze caressing the blossoms of affection. It was like the starry night sky in the early summer, with you and him sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building where you lived, on an old bed sheet because you were yet to invest in a proper picnic blanket, but still the happiest people in the world.

As he closed the gap between you, running his fingers over your jawline before cupping your face to get a better angle, you closed your eyes and gave into the adoration that emanated from him. In the subtlest of gestures, in the sentimentality that translated into him understanding you better than how you understood yourself, he was every bit a man head over heels in love. And while either of you were yet to say the words, each action and inaction both screamed it. Perhaps it was something more than love. A proximity of the souls that was built in the quietude, in the shadows of an emotional flurry. In the hustle and bustle of common terminology, labels and anniversaries, a little world that could only come into existence with genuine intent and care became a reality. This cozy corner that housed only you and Yunho. 'Did you eat?', 'I will take care of you', 'I'm outside with medicine' were all manifestations of this unspoken devotion. And as he placed one final kiss on your rosy lips before starting up the car, you were entertained by the fascinating coincidence in the only term you could think of to describe this feeling being the exact same as your boyfriend's surname.

Flickering lights, neon signs and a revelation that the cycle could stop. Though you were on the verge of somnolence, barely resisting drowsiness settling on your eyelids like the snowflakes outside, you watched as Yunho masterfully spun the steering wheel while singing a melody which you recognised to be Standing Egg's Starry Night, one which you had made him repeat again and again as soon as you had heard it once. Upon noticing your gaze resting on him, he broke into a chuckle and fell quiet until the next red light.

"Mmm, why did you stop?" You asked and pouted, glancing at Yunho's arm as he pulled on the handbrake.

"Because I want to look at you as I sing it:

Here we are close to star

I want to stay with you forever like this

Here we are close to star

The endless starry sky and you and me..."

As he sang, in the air hung a promise. One which you did not need for him to say out loud to understand, for more often than not, the feeling itself was the true, and magical meaning.

[scribbly-artist]

In Love with All of You

Summary: Eli Kawase has opened up to you and told you that he’s a different Eli everyday. You’re fine with that, but are you fine with the way that you present yourself? The thoughts rear their head on your third date, you get a little bit upset, but Eli is there to help.

Author’s Notes: Oops, writing for a very niche game. For the love of everything PLEASE give ‘Hush Hush: Only Your Love Can Save Them’ a go. I love all of Sad Panda Studio’s games and I like how you can play them pretty much SFW and having NSFW being entirely optional. I got into their games from playing Blush Blush. Came for the otome idle clicker, stayed for the characters. Eli is no exception, especially in Hush Hush. He was very fun to write for!

This fic gets a bit serious before it gets tooth-rottingly sweet. Warnings for talk about deep thoughts with gender and identity. Also I mention the word dick. Dick. PENIS! If you’re laughing at the word, consider going back to school for sex education and laugh about it there.

Gender neutral pronouns for the reader as the game does this, and he/him pronouns for Eli as the game and himself refer to him as male.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. :]

Words: ~2,000 | AO3 Link

A beautiful, sunny day in Subrosa can only be spent outside on the beach. Which is exactly what you’re doing - on Subrosa’s famous beach. Doing anything else would be a crime. But you’re not alone: you have a date!

You’ve hit third base with your date, Eli Kawase, funnily enough on your third date. You’ve had such a fun time on your dates with him. He had a bit of reluctance to continue dating you after he’s tried really hard to set you up with his sister, but you told him you’re still one hundred percent fine with going out with him. So you’re both trucking along and having fun.

However, after your serious talk on your first date (which is strange for Eli, because of how he acts), you also have just a tiny bit of reluctance. But not because of Eli himself; you’re totally fine with Eli being genderfluid and pansexual. You’re more so wondering if you’re right for him, being the way you are. Does he actually like you like you, or are you both just playing along to have fun? You needed to know.

As the sun started to set and turned the sky a beautiful caramel, you both sat under your beach parasol and fluffy pair of towels, admiring the gentle waves in the distance.

“Well, I had a lot of fun today, thank you cutie.” Eli was the first to break the silence, letting out a content sigh, fiddling with the hem of his sundress. “This is probably the most fun I’ve had in a while. And that’s saying a lot, since I’ve messed around pretty much with everyone in Subrosa! You’re definitely one in a million.”

“I had such a great time too, Eli. Thank you for making this vacation so fun.” You smiled, the soft breeze blowing your hair. Your heart was overflowing with warmth as you looked into his eyes. “We can still have some more fun, even if the sun is setting - how about we continue this at mine?” You suggested, turning to Eli.

“Oh, I would be delighted! Even if we just relax. Or if we get freaky, I don’t mind!” He gave you a wink and a smirk. “Let me just head home real quick and get cleaned up. I don’t wanna trail sand through your house, and it always seems to get trapped in the most awkward places! We don’t want that!” He giggled as he got up, adjusting his dress.

“Do you need a lift?” You asked, picking up the towels and collapsing the parasol.

“Nah, I’m good. My house isn’t far from here anyways. Just text me your address, and I’ll be there in a jiffy! I’ll change into something a bit more comfortable.”

+++

You drove back to the Airbnb, cleaned yourself up and changed into some cleaner clothes that weren’t absolutely covered in sand. Your ‘cat’ didn’t seem to be around this time, so she must be asleep and hiding somewhere, which might be a good thing since you’ll be having a guest.

Just as that thought crossed your mind, the doorbell rang. “I’m coming!” You called as you paced over to the door, unlocking and opening it. Eli was there, now dressed in a white button up and brown pants. Quite different to the long yellow dress, sandals and sun hat he was wearing earlier today. Though, you were used to Eli switching it up at this point. He smelt faintly of cologne, you savoured the scent as he drew himself close for a hug.

“Aww, I missed you too. Even if we were only apart for half an hour,” He leaned in and kissed both of your cheeks, making you giggle. You invited him inside, both of you settling down on the couch. “Ooh, nice place you got here. You must’ve had this place booked in advance, aye! It’s perfect for an unforgettable summer vaycay!”

“Yeah, it’s a nice little house. The neighbours are old, so it’s quiet at night time. I’ve got no complaints.” You replied, sinking into the couch to make yourself comfortable. “So, how about we watch a movie first? Have some snacks?”

“That’s such a wonderful idea, I was about to suggest the same thing!” Eli beamed, reaching for the TV remote as you got up to whip up some food.

+++

It was just a generic romcom you found on Netflix. It was at least a little bit funny, though neither of you were really paying attention with both of your talking and laughing. Background noise, really. Although, the main characters in the movie started to get hot and heavy, showcasing a wonderful display of them kissing, and…

“Heeeey, wanna do the thing? I mean, they’re doing it, right? Isn’t this what you’re meant to do when you watch romcoms with something you’re romantically and maybe a little bit sexually interested in?” Eli gave a smirk with a glint in his eyes, leaning towards you. You nodded in agreement, diving in for a kiss. But as things started to advance in your make out session, Eli fiddling with the buttons on your shirt, your hands reached up to his wrists in hesitation.

“Wait,” you whispered, your cheeks blushing.

“What, getting all embarrassed now?” He chuckled with a cheeky grin, but waited for you to continue.

“No, it’s not that, just…” you voice trailed off, Eli frowned as your tone changed.

“Is it me? I thought we established early on that I’ve got a dick—“

“No, no! It’s not you! It’s never been you!” You quickly interjected, shaking your head frantically. “I’m totally fine with you - all of you! It’s me that’s the issue.”

Eli didn’t respond, but raised his eyebrow, urging you to continue.

“Are you sure you want… me? I mean, I’m not that exciting, or great. And I’m only here for the rest of the month. I just don’t want us to get super serious, and then you decide I’m not what you were expecting, and—“ Eli gently placed a finger on your lip before you babbled on anymore.

“Darling, I love everything about you. I know at first we were only talking because I was trying to set you up with my sister, but that ship crashed and burned, so I wanted to give us a chance, too.” He responded, smiling, though he was serious. “I’m absolutely crazy about you, that’s why I told you everything about me having a dick and all on our first date! I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t serious about this. I’ve got so much love to give, regardless of my gender, someone else’s, or what’s in someone’s pants. I’ll love you, for you.”

“You… you mean it?” You asked, your eyes just stinging a bit with tears during this emotional moment.

“I do. If you’re not ready yet, we can just slow down, whatever makes you comfortable. I’m happy to wait,” he placed his hand on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

“Thank you, Eli. And… I’m sorry for getting all emotional.” You let out a watery sigh, but composed yourself with a sniffle, reaching up to wipe your eyes before they get too wet.

“No, I’m glad you brought it up,” he helped you wipe the tears away, reaching up with his other hand. He puffed out his chest before he spoke, grinning. “But before we continue, you’ve just gotta turn that frown upside down! Otherwise you’ll make me all sad too!”

“I’ll try… just for you.”

“No, not just try - do! Or, y’know, I could help…” his smile turned devious, you had a feeling you knew what was brewing in his mind. “Don’t think I forgot that little tickle fight we had at the boutique on our first date - the Tickle Monster’s gonna tickle you so much you completely forget being upset!”

“No— wait, Eli!” You pleaded, quickly shooting up from your seat. You booked it for the bedroom, leaving Eli a bit stunned.

“Ooh, you’ve made it so much more worse for yourself, hun!”

The chase was on - though it didn’t last for long. You needed somewhere to hide, so you hid yourself in the closet and shut the door. Eli entered the bedroom, his voice sounding mischievous.

“I think you’ve forgotten, my dear. I am an older sibling,” His voice boomed with dramatics. He approached the closet door, standing just outside of it. You held your breath, not wanting to be discovered, but it was futile. “I’ve done this song and dance more times than you can count, so I know all the tricks in the book!” He twisted the knob, the door flying open. You squeaked as he dived into the dark, grabbing you as you protested and weakly smacked him as he carried you out, bouncing you down onto the bed. He straddled your waist as you tried to wriggle away.

“Eli, don’t! You know I’m ticklish!!” You let out a whine, but you were enjoying this more than you were letting on, and he knew it.

He cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect as he wiggled his fingers at you, your cheeks burning red. “Too late, pumpkin. Your fate is sealed. Besides, I know you’ve been waitin’ for this!” He dove right in, going straight for your tummy. You let out a shriek as you squirmed around in his hold, throwing your head into the pillows as you laughed yourself silly.

“There’s that beautiful smile! That suits you SO much better than a frown, doesn’t it?” He commented as he glided his fingers over your stomach through your shirt, not offering you much protection. “Your adorable tummy is as soft as a marshmallow! I wonder if it tastes the same, too?” He pondered aloud as you shook your head.

“DON’T Y— HAHAHA!! DON’T YOU DARE, ELI!” But it was far too late. As he scribbled his fingers on his left hand, he was already unbuttoning the bottom of your shirt with his right. Before you knew it, his hands switched to scratching at your ribs as his head dived straight into your belly.

You positively cackled. You tried pushing his head filled with rainbow locks away, but he wasn’t budging. He gave your soft belly peppered kisses, and to be even more evil than he already was, blew some raspberries as well. You gripped onto his hair as your skin vibrated, being overwhelmed with the ticklish sensations. No skin on your stomach was ignored as you cried out in hysterics. Tears even welled up in the corners of your eyes, though they were very much the opposite of the upset tears you had earlier.

He continued his tickling onslaught, so you could forget ever doubting your sense of worth ever again by turning your brain into soup. As your laughter grew silent, he got the hint that you were hitting a limit. He gradually grew to a stop, giving your tummy a pat as a sign that he was done as he sat upright.

“Whew, that was a workout for you, huh?” He chuckled quietly, reaching over to wipe some of the tears streaming down your face with his thumb. “Sorry if I went a little overboard - I had to get a little revenge from our tickle fight from last time. I hope that’s okay.” He reached down to your shirt as he intended on doing your buttons back up, until you reached out and grabbed his hand with yours. He looked to your face questionably, raising his eyebrow. But you smiled at him as you reached for his collar.

You grabbed him and dragged him down with you, snuggling up to him for a cuddle. He definitely wouldn’t refuse.

“Thank you for accepting me for who I am,” you whispered, breathing in his scent.

“No; thank YOU for accepting me. And making me feel so comfortable.”

You leaned in for a kiss, and he gladly accepted. His fingers tangled into your hair as you deepened the kiss.

Time for another make out session, and maybe a little fun afterwards!

[these-written-reveries]

Just You and Me

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: You show up at Arthur’s door, struggling and in desperate need of him and his love. Don’t worry, Arthur will take good care of you.

‣ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

‣ Warnings: Emotional breakdown, heavy feelings (no specifics mentioned)

‣ Word Count: 1,363

‣ A/N: This fic is dedicated to @ajokeformur-ray and anyone else who is struggling and in need of a bit of Arthur lovin’. Allow yourself to be present in this moment, just you and him. Forget about the rest of the world. You can let it all go, at least for now. I hope you can find a little solace in this piece. ♡

Song of Inspiration: “Don’t Worry�� by The 1975

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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There you stood, tired and dejected, in front of apartment 8J.

You had found yourself face-to-face with this door so many times that it was practically routine at this point. Whether it be to visit Arthur during the day, or in the evening to watch Murray, to check up on him, share leftovers, or to meet up for your weekly dates. Many times, you came to give Arthur his mail that was frequently placed into your mailbox by mistake. You lived just across from Arthur, and it had become apparent that the mail person didn’t care to actually look at the proper apartment numbers when placing mail in your boxes. You didn’t mind, in fact, you looked forward to such mistakes as it always gave you yet another reason to see your lover’s sweet face again. Who could complain about that?

This time, though, was different.

You had no mail to deliver, no leftovers, no smile, or warm greeting. You could barely muster the strength to bring your trembling hand up to knock on the old paint-chipped door. You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was to burden Arthur with more heaviness and pain. If Arthur was in your head, he would be ever so quick to shut those thoughts down. You knew this, but it didn’t stop the feelings burrowed deep within your chest; the same ones that almost stopped your hand from knocking upon the steel wall separating you from him. Your heart so ached for him. You needed him.

Three feeble knocks nearly went unnoticed by Arthur’s ears. It was late and he was immersed in his own mind, a pen in his hand as he wrote down a joke he had been mentally crafting all day onto the scribbled notebook page before him. Despite this, he still managed to be pulled from his focus enough to realize someone was at the door. The thought of it being you instantly sent his heart into an eager frenzy, his body moving out of his chair and towards the door without him even commanding it to.

He always looked forward to little visits from you. Opening the door to reveal your beautiful face and warm smile was the highlight of all his days. The two of you had a running game in which you’d show up at each other’s places with the most random of reasons as to why -all of which were highly important and definitely not just excuses to see one another.

But this time was different.

The moment Arthur opened the door, he sensed the grave importance of the situation, and so quickly did his smile disappear; the eager fluttering of his heart mutating into a throbbing pain at the sight in front of him. Your hunched shoulders, head hung low, hands trembling at your sides, hair covering your face. He didn’t need to know what your face looked like to know exactly what was going on. He knew, but oh god, did it still crush his soul to pieces when you finally did bring your teary eyes up to meet his. Despite his best efforts to say anything, do anything, he was frozen. All he could do was stare with a face overflowing with concern for his love.

It was your weary, somber voice that finally kicked him into action.

“Can I come in?” You quavered, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. He could see so clearly. You needed him.

Arthur nodded quickly, stepping aside, and pulling the door open wider so you could enter. You looked so fragile, he felt scared to even touch you in fear of breaking you as he led you to the couch for you both to sit, hastily moving the blanket and TV remote to make room for you. Only when you were settled, did he allow himself to sit beside you.

He wanted so badly to wrap you up in his arms and shower you with loving words and kisses, but he found himself holding back from doing so. This was a delicate matter and the last thing he wanted was to make the wrong move. Instead, he chose to be ever so careful with each touch and word that he offered you, allowing you to guide the situation as to what you needed from him. Whatever it was, he would give it to you, without question. Anything to soothe the pain and suffering you were experiencing.

Gently embracing one of your shaking hands in both of his own, he glanced up at you, trying to meet your eyes, though they remained focused on your lap.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You can tell me,” he spoke tenderly and right away you felt the last bit of composure you had left completely collapse to dust.

Soon you were a mess of sobs and tears and between them, your words came spilling out, albeit a little hard to understand, but Arthur did his very best to listen intently to every one of them. Not once did he utter a single word himself, only nodded and gave your hand a little squeeze here and there. At one point, he placed a hand on your back and began rubbing soothing circles into it.

If it hadn’t been for the constant flow of tears blinding your vision, you would have noticed his face contort as different emotions filled his being. Jaw clenched, forehead wrinkled with tension, lips drawn down into a frown, tears pricking his eyes. At times, his tightly knitted brows would raise with concern in response to something you said. Other times, a spark of anger flashed in his eyes. He couldn’t help but find himself indignant at the circumstances that led you to this much suffering and he held an even greater resentment against anyone who hurt you. Whatever was so heavy on your soul filled Arthur with the most intense desire to strip it all away and take on the weight of it himself. And he would, in a heartbeat.

There was a brief moment of silence after you finished speaking as Arthur tried to collect his words. Finally, he let out a sigh, and shifted himself so that he was directly in front of you, knelt upon the green rug on the floor. Looking deeply into your eyes, he gently wiped a few stray tears from your face before speaking.

“I’m so sorry, honey. You know…it’s okay to feel that way. I think anyone would in your situation. If I could take it all away and make it better, I really would, baby.”

Holding your right hand in his left, he once again reached up to wipe your tears away, his right hand cradling your face as his thumb softly caressed your cheek. You let out a shaky breath as you relaxed into his touch. Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips.

“I can’t make it all go away, but I can take care of you. Will you let me take care of you, please?”

He looked up at you with warm, loving eyes as he brought your right hand to his lips, placing the softest kiss atop it. You nodded your head, feeling a new wave of tears prick your eyes as your heart burst with love for the man who was literally on his knees for you, practically begging to take care of you, to make you feel better, to love you.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he cooed, his arms reaching out to you.

Arthur didn’t waste any more time as he wrapped you up tightly in his arms. You melted into his peaceful embrace, allowing him to move you both into a more comfortable position on the couch, where he finally indulged in showering you with kisses and loving whispers. He traced his fingers up and down your arms and spine; occasionally caressing your hair and face and banishing any tears that escaped your eyes with his lips.

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you. Just you and me, baby,” he murmured into your ear before pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

And for the first time since you’d knocked on the door of apartment 8J, you didn’t.

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‣If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ If you’d like to join the tag list for Arthur Fleck/P!Joker, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

[leaentries]

Jamie is my absolute baby! (I know he’s a grown man-) I want to protect him with my whole life! how would the reader react to finding out Jamie’s injured again and just taking caring of him. if it were me I would get the poor boy some good vitamins or something

he’s just so princess it hurts😫 he needs someone to look after him

he needs to drink some milk or something i stg

also i just want to cradle him and tell him everythings gonna be okay

definitely not projecting

warnings: sad jamie

wc: 700+

Finding out your boyfriend was hurt, is never a good way to start the week. 

The joys of beginning the season seemed to come to a halt. Your heart physically hurt for Jamie, as you sat beside him in your shared living room. He had just come back after missing 90 percent of last season, due to his shoulder.

It was so unfair. Jamie was on the ice for two games before he was put out. You cursed the hockey gods for doing this to him. No matter how positive he acted around you, it’s extremely hard to miss the deep sorrow embedded in his usually bright eyes. 

Jamie looked so defeated, his love for his job making this situation just that much harder. Other than you, hockey was the love of his life. You often made jokes with him about this, but all of that seemed so far away now. You tried your hardest to cheer him up, bringing him his favorite foods, watching his favorite movies.

Yet, nothing seemed to shake his disappointment. You could tell today was gonna be harder for him, since it was the first roadie the Ducks would be making without Jamie. The day went by slowly, mainly consisting of Jamie laying pitifully on your chest all day. Although, with the exception of doing some much-needed rehab for his injury.

You made sure to help him when he got sore or felt he couldn’t go much longer. You stood by his side, encouraging him and bringing him anything he needed. Now, Jamie would never expect or ask this of you, but he found himself thanking the world for sending you to him. 

The sun eventually set, and the night sky leaked into the atmosphere. You noticed Jamie’s face fall as game time approached. You sat beside him, legs tucked under your body, as you rubbed soothing circles into his arm. 

“It’ll be okay, J.” You, of course, knew why he was so stricken over this particular game, but it still hurt to see Jamie so drained. 

He shook his head slightly, “It just sucks. Like I can’t even physically be there to support my team!” Jamie tried his best not to pour out all of his thoughts on you, not wanting to be a burden. But alas, you can always tell when Jamie is hiding something. The slight quiver of his lip gave him away every time. 

“That’s not all. What’s really bothering you?” You gently turned his face to meet yours. Tears welled in his blue eyes, threatening to fall with each passing moment. 

His emotions consumed him, overflowing at your delicate tone. 

“I just feel like a disappointment,” His simple sentence was barely over a whisper, “I just signed a new contract, and then now what? I’m useless to this team, Y/n.” 

You felt a wave of disbelief wash over you. You knew Jamie was upset over his injury, you just never realized he blamed himself. Your heart broke for the brunette in front of you. You tugged him into your arms, letting him bury his head in your neck as he cried. 

You felt your own tears spring up at the sound of his distressed sobs.

Softly caressing his hair, you placed sweet kisses to his head.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” You reassured, “You’re not a disappointment, sweetheart. You got injured, nobody could have predicted that.” You slowly brought his head up, cradling his cheeks in your palms. “And I absolutely do not want you blaming yourself. It’s not your fault. You can’t control this, Jamie. But if there is anyone in the world who can overcome this, it’s you. Besides, you’ll come back stronger and better than ever.” 

By the time you finished speaking, his tears had stopped, leaving wet trails for you to gingerly wipe away. 

Jamie leaned in to place a small kiss on your lips, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His eyes flickered to your lips once more, bringing your face to meet his. 

You served as his rock when he felt like his world was slipping away. And he knew, no matter what happened, hockey or no hockey, he would always have you.

[ridley-emeritus]

Just Pretend

(warnings: Panic attack, Angst, let me know if there's more. Is this just me projecting my anger of watching my dad be a good father to his girlfriend's children and not me? Maybe.)

Years ago, Ridley would have given up on trying to find out who his father was. He had been so close to giving up, of just accepting the fact that his dad was either dead or just not wanting to be that father figure. Ridley was over eighteen…. Secondo could just simply not care at this point but…. he did. It was still too good to be true and Ridley wished that this was either some dream or some lie because the paranoia encompassing him right now was driving him mad.

But now, as he sat on the garden bench at midnight, thinking about how his father looked at him for the first time, his heart ached. The love and hope in Secondo's eyes, yet Ridley felt afraid of that. Why would he be afraid? It was just his father. He didn't really expect a satanic pope to be his father… or for him to look a bit too much like Pitbull but that's another hard pill to swallow.

For the longest time Ridley was just so angry, so bitter at what he had missed out throughout his childhood. The movie nights, being picked up from school by his dad, being able to just simply say goodnight to him. Ridley remembers the embarrassment and shame in class from not being able to answer anything about his father, how the teachers or classmates looked at him with pity. All his life he simply did not know. He hated not knowing.

He expected the anger to boil over, to scream and yell at Secondo, to just get all that emotion out at the man he would claim he hated the most a majority of his life. He thought he would scream and punch and just be able to stay angry at the man he'd been compared to his whole fucking life. But… he didn't expect the acceptance… the smile… the immediate hug. Ridley was over eighteen, even if Secondo would have wanted or needed to pay child support, he couldn't. Ridley wasn't a child anymore. Ridley could just be a stranger to him for all he cared. So why did Secondo care so much immediately? He didn't expect that.

Ridley also didn't expect how large of a family had been waiting for him. A dad, a stepdad, four adopted siblings, a grandma? Uncles? He used to dream of having siblings to play games with and talk to, now he has all the chances in the world? Yet… the longer he watched and listened to them, he realized how much of a good father Secondo could be. Sure, Secondo was guarded as hell and emotionally constipated, but Ridley could see the care in his eyes as Secondo spoke to him for the first time, calling him 'my boy'. Ridley just…. he didn't understand how he could get that happiness again. Ridley was twenty… why was Secondo caring? Why was Ridley caring? Ridley just wanted his dad to hug him again, but he felt embarrassed to ask. But he saw how Secondo didn't hesitate when his siblings asked. He saw the love and care they got, yet Ridley felt…. alone. He was scared to ask, scared that the first hug would have been the only hug. Scared that he would be turned away like his mother turned him away if he needed comfort.

What if it was just pity or some stroking of Secondo's ego that Ridley looks like a much younger version of Secondo? His thoughts ran around like that damn cat Apostle owns.

His leg started to bounce, his hands rubbing his knees as he felt that familiar anxiety fill up in his chest like an overflowing watering can. He didn't hate his siblings. No. He adored them. Loved them to death. He just couldn't describe it. Was it jealousy? He didn't know what to think. He hated how his siblings could just ask and Secondo gave with no second thought. Yet Ridley was afraid of that. Afraid of that connection.

Warm tears fell down the boy's cheeks, the tightness in his chest and that damn whisper in his ear, that damn spirit mocking him. Her words couldn't be understood, like Ridley was submerged underwater and she were speaking to him from the surface. It all came ahead as he started to cry, biting his cheek and clutching at his hair to just pathetically ground himself while he whimpered out "Dad." like he was a little kid again. Calming himself down wasn't working this time. Why? He wanted to talk to Secondo, to walk to his office or bedroom and knock on the door, ask if he could just stay for a little bit, just be in the presence of someone who cares. But he didn't want to bother him...

Secondo hadn't spoken to him in a hot minute, and for whatever reason in a part of Ridley's mind.

That was okay… Ridley can wait. He's waited for so long to be wanted, He doesn't mind waiting again…even if his mind will never let it go.

I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

( @ask-lance-ghoul pspsps come get your angst I know you like angst of this family in desperate need of group therapy sessions)

[beacarrot]

Dirty Loves.

You say you're sorry,

But your songs aren't sadder than mine,

So what if they think it was just a short time?

There’s a scar, right in my sternum,

That I covered with ink, with a tatto on a night of excess,

A drunk night,

When I turned eighteen, that alone would be equally eternal, l'd think our love would be blessed,

I swear I see it in my mind,

Walking low, hiding your pride,

"You’re almost sick," you’d reply,

In a daydream behind the lies,

So tell your friends it’s all the same,

It’s winter, like every another game,

You walk past streetlights, nothing's changed,

With the soundtrack of bursts,

Your mind in self-sabotage mode announces a shooting at every step closer to me,

And that’s the issue with dirty loves...

The answering machine's gone silent,

No longer takes messages from my end of the state,

I wonder if it’s too late to repent?

Is it too early to let go for good?

They’re talking marriage, misunderstood,

Sipping bitter coffee, lost in the wind,

The altar, the veil,

"Forever I'll love you," written, but it's just a fucking pretend,

Yeah, maybe I should tie the knot,

Married,

But it’s not her, and that’s your the spot,

And you know what?

I wish it were her, it’d be less of a fight,

Love without having to blow out every candle,

To love you without dimming the light,

But I have irons in my fists and a gag between my teeth,

And I know I’ll still feel each of them being pulled out.

So grab the typewriter, write it down,

And write twenty pages of poems that would go to the bonfire if we were in 1842,

More ten that’d make us drown.

I’m here, naked, tell me true:

Does it hurt you like it hurts me?

I’m here, hopeless, burning slowly, trying to see,

Did fate always hate us both?

Did you never take the promised affection?

Did you never feel the love we had?

Blame the world, your problems, the gods above, but don’t make it bad.

So is it true, a tale poorly spun,

Is a tragedy delayed, and we’re done?

Cover me gently with the cloak of all your addictive lies,

I have a feeling you don’t care for all the precious stones I gave up for us...

Each price that only my side was willing to pay,

That only me bore,

You were scared, I had a passion about to overflow, and I wanted more,

And that’s the issue with dirty loves.

I can’t think straight, but I wish you well,

Be happy,

Just not happier than you were with me,

No like you were with me,

Go find someone,

Twist the knife,

Soften the blade, yeah, do it,

Break the cup into millions of pieces,

Let the glass cut my heart lethally,

Put that ring in her palm tonight,

I don’t hate her, but save a bite,

Save one of the fingers to honor me.

Yeah, I hope you’re happy, it’s bittersweet,

Even if it didn’t end as we’d meet.

I can’t let you go,

Can’t touch you now,

When I think I’m in control,

There’s always something coming,

I can’t forget you,

But what if I could?

I can’t forget, but what if I tried?

Rolling in lies, where dreams collide,

A lonely faith,

Your haunted departure,

My summer eyes, my spark that was only yours,

You’re the love of my life,

But I’m not yours...

The seat is cold, I look down low,

I can’t hang with friends,

They’re yours too,

It should be easy, just a little wall,

But every every narrowed gaze, feels like a fall,

Every crossed word, every unspoken comment,

I stopped everything just to carry on,

I paused to read what’s left behind,

But I read the lyrics kept in the "unfinished songs" folder,

Lyrics in one more folder, twisted and blind,

We knew they’d never be decoded,

Memories captured, love eroded,

The old times,

I wander the city, trying to mend,

Waiting for dust to settle just to throw myself onto it again,

Losing my mind, but never finding my soul,

The one you kidnapped just for yourself,

When you still had me in your palm,

Over every crooked line of your hand.

What was I supposed to do?

Can you fix things when all you see are cracks?

Next year, will you wish me happy birthday?

Will you even care?

How can you forget how we almost had it all?

Every silent "I love you"...

How can you not miss me still?

How can you not recall the thrill?

How do you not miss St. Ermin's Hotel?

My view under the lights of room 1428,

How that eager boy,

Turned into such a cowardly man?

How didn’t you leave me a trace?

Now I’m exposed, not ready to face,

And the feathers that covered our Achilles' heels?

Now I’m back, open for any backstab,

What will I do with that note so cruel?

You loved me first,

But I loved you more,

You fell for me, swearing until your death,

But it was me who fell harder,

And that’s my view,

I’ll still see this until the day I die,

I’ll carry this weight till my last breath,

And when each heartbeat fades away, and there’ll be no regret,

I gave you my all, still think it’s slight,

I killed my ego, and still think not everything was buried,

As if somewhere inside me this isn’t completely finished,

So I look at this writing,

And I can’t get out of bed,

Because now something is dead...

I’m dirty,

You’re dirty,

And all we are together is a dirty affair,

It’s true,

We’re just a case of blue,

And green maybe,

A dirty love,

And that’s the issue with dirty loves.

(This poem is not about me, not even close. It is about people I know from afar, from a beautiful, sad, confusing and never 100% confirmed story. Putting myself in the point of view of a narrator who tells his feelings in the first person that is not me was exciting and challenging. It was like imagining the situation that was given and the "characters" and thinking "What would he say about this situation?". And to be honest, I was even impressed with the result.)

Signed: Beatriz Ranzonni 🩵.

[triptychgrip]

Now complete: Phichit and Yuuri's Beijing Games Short Programs

[Ooh, you make me feel like a million dollars My rich life nothing no man can buy]

“Don’t rush it, Yuranya,” Phichit heard Viktor murmur.

Yuuri seemed to heed his husband’s advice, as unlike with his Team Skate performance the prior week, his transitional Ina Bauer didn’t seem rushed in the slightest. His best friend looked completely in his element, the curvature of his body in that elegant, arched position a perfect complement to the way his voice bent around the notes with ease.

Forty-two seconds in, Yuuri landed his enviable triple axel, exactly on the phrasing “rich life”. And then, because he was a bit of a show off, he came out of the jump by way of a smooth falling leaf jump, taken off from his right-back-outside edge.

He came out of it, not appearing the least bit winded. Even at 29 years of age, Yuuri still had a remarkable sense of stamina.

[Ooh, you make me feel like a million dollars It’s heartfelt, overflowing inside]

Now was the first spin of the routine: a camel forward with a catch-foot variation, which Phichit knew happened to be Viktor’s personal favorite of all the ones they usually did side-by-side in their pair skating routines.

And the man in question now gave a loud sob next to him, presumably from how beautifully sincere Yuuri sounded as he sang the phrase “heartfelt, overflowing inside”.

Phichit actually felt tears pool in his own eyes as well: this was his best friend, singing such a romantically earnest line in dedication to the love of his life! He imagined, for a second, what the Yuuri of six years ago would have said if he’d told him that he’d one day have the bravery to do something like this.

Perhaps it was due to the leftover adrenaline from his own skate, but whatever the reason, Phichit let his tears begin to spill over, thankful that there was a bit of a respite by way of the tone transition in the music.

Yuuri rounded the side of the rink in graceful, loping strides, the fake sakaki branches of his costume catching the breeze behind him in what would surely be one of the highlights of the various photographs captured.

Oh, wait a second. Scratch that whole 'respite' thing…

Phichit’s heart climbed into his throat; the halfway point of the program was upon them, meaning that Yuuri’s jump combination was coming up next. But given how he’d swapped his lutz for a flip, what did he have planned?

----

The above is an excerpt of my completed 2-chapter story covering the 2022 Beijing Games Short Program, which is part 7 of my overall 2018/2022 Olympics fic series. This part of the series was really fun to write, particularly because at this point in time in my fic-verse, both Yuuri and Phichit have had several years of success in the field and are equally viable contenders for gold, overall.

In Chapter 1, I wrote about Phichit's efforts to surprise the audience with a certain extremely difficult jump combination, and in the newly uploaded chapter, I cover Yuuri's skate. As for Short Program coverage in the main fic (part 1 of the series), you can find that in Chapter 15, which covers the Short from Yurio’s POV.

I hope you'll consider checking this story out, or my other Yuri!!! on Ice fics!

[atopearth]

Ikemen Revolution Part 17 - Dalim "Dum" Tweedle Route

It seems like I was so disappointed with the announcement that IkeRev wouldn't get any more routes translated (my Blanc route😭😭😭) that I didn't even realise I never did Dalim/Dum's route lol! I guess better late than never? I love how protective all the Black Army guys were the moment Dum kissed her hand hahaha, understandable if his nickname is the infamous playboy of Central though haha! I wonder why he gets sick from time to time, I haven't played this game in so long I've completely forgotten if it was explained in a previous route haha. Anyway, it was hilarious how Dum collapsing is such a common occurrence that all the women run to take care of him when it happens. He seems insistent on the heroine just because she's not like the other girls who fawn all over him lol. Of course she'll have to work at his tavern to get to know him better haha. Anyway, I wonder if the reason why Dum is always collapsing and stuff is because he's running out of magic power inside him and is going to die if he keeps using it? I forgot his circumstances and story since it's been so long haha. It's actually kinda cute how both Dean and Dum are so adamantly against the heroine calling them so identical that they've got to be related somehow hahaha.

I wonder, if the heroine agreed to run away with Dum, would he have left everything here and ran away with her, or would he have just thought it was an easy way to kidnap her to the Magic Tower? I'm inclined to think it's the former since he does seem fond of the heroine and hoped that she would pick that so she wouldn't have to suffer. I'm not sure how I should feel for Dalim because the fact that he's literally creating these test subject humans to harvest great amounts of magic because the Magic Tower can't keep up with the supply for the populace is just crazy. I knowww the heroine wouldn't abandon Dalim when he's in pain but it still frustrates me to see the heroine caged up not being able to do anything. I think what I'm having an issue with this route right now that gives me a sense of distaste is how it tries to justify Dalim's actions and reasoning. The banishment of Levie to the Land of Looking Glass could be understood as there being no choice because they couldn't handle his overflowing magic that already killed his mother when she gave birth to him, but the fact that they abandoned him not because they thought he was too dangerous to handle but because they found no worth in doing further research with him and getting any result from it? That's just cruel. They not only sealed the entrance to the place but left him isolated because they just didn't care for him. Then the Magic Tower's reasoning that they need more magic crystals because they can't keep up with the demand, understandable, but they're obviously in dire straits but what they care about isn't that the people will run out of magic supply but that they will lose the monopolised power they hold as the people who manage these crystals and distribute them. They're not concerned about people's lives, they're concerned about their place in society so having the heroine think that this is just an issue of different perspectives grates my nerves, because it's not, the Magic Tower or at least the higher ups have no regard to the people, otherwise they would discuss other ways and solutions and not focus on magic circuits. What also annoys me is the heroine's beating heart when Dalim does anything, like lady, whyyy, please have some respect for yourself. I'd say that Dalim is most interested in research of magic itself rather than helping people though which is not a problem, just not admirable considering what he does to achieve his goals. I guess the only solace is that the heroine is against Dalim's methods regardless, since it sacrifices people, but she'll help with the research just to lower the amount of sacrifices because that's the only thing she can do. Anyway, Dalim is probably doing all the stuff he's doing to protect his brother like Seth protects his sister, and he's caging the heroine to protect her in his own way but yeah, doesn't mean I like it. I won't deny that when Dalim protected her from Amon and was ready to cover her from a full-on magical attack, I was quite touched. I'm too easy like the heroine after all😂

I completely forgot that Oliver was from the Land of Reason and Amon and Dalim experimented on him! That's difficult to forgive. But obviously, Dalim is only doing his best to survive in his own way. He can't escape Amon, he either lives as a test subject or as his disciple and the latter is the only way to live like a person and survive, and one day kick him off his position, so honestly despite everything, I do feel bad for him and understand why he's done what he's done. He's never had true freedom to choose what he wants to do. I think it was kinda cute how the heroine said she'll be the prince who saves Dalim who is trapped in this tower, I think he needed those words. I'm glad that finally kicked Dalim to get Harr to save the heroine from being stuck in this tower. Well, I guess I should apologise to Dalim for thinking he actually did inhumane experiments in the past. I'm relieved to know that ever since he was a kid, he and Dean never compromised their thoughts and beliefs, the only sad thing was that they both failed escaping together, causing Dalim to sacrifice himself to be the sole test subject to protect others, and to allow Dean to live a life outside the tower. I guess this route encapsulates the whole idea of a revolution against Amon, freeing both Cradle and Dalim from his overbearing authority. It was sweet to see Jonah save Luka, I always look forward to the brothers getting along better. It was still sad to watch Seth turn against them though, especially since it seemed like Seth was actually going to hurt Luka. It was nice to see both Dean and the heroine save Dalim, and for Dalim to have a reduced sentence basically. I kinda thought I would look forward to the romance between Dalim and the heroine but I sadly didn't feel it at all so even though they finally got to get together, I actually found the heroine's boundless and all forgiving love rather difficult to believe in a sense. Anyway, I'm glad Dalim didn't leave to go to the Land of Reason with the heroine because that would have been disappointing for him as a person but interesting story-wise I guess lol. But I think that suggestion is exactly what makes me even more strongly think we had to suspend a lot of belief in the heroine's morality and views on what's right just because of "love". The only thing I liked was them working together forever in the bar lol.

Overall, I'm not a fan of Dalim's route. I had high hopes because I'm into "villains" but I think Dalim's route rubs me in the wrong way through the heroine's thoughts and perspective. I mean, I didn't mind his backstory and stuff because it was to be expected that he was protecting Dean and didn't have a choice etc but I really didn't like how throughout the whole route once the heroine got captured, even though she likes to acknowledge that the things Dalim is doing is "wrong", she is always justifying his actions and the way he did things. I feel like the romance made it difficult for me to like this route because the heroine always had a fluttering heart for the smallest things and even when he does questionable things to her and the world of Cradle, but it's like no, my heart is beating fast so I think he's not bad lol. I just feel like so many things the heroine ignored because of her "love" and honestly, if it was a love that made sense to me, whether it be evil or toxic or anything, I wouldn't mind, but instead it felt like she just downplayed everything that was done because of his "reasons" and then makes her life revolve around him? Anyway, maybe I'm just old and cynical lol, but I just didn't end up enjoying this route that much because I feel like so much of it was spent on parts I didn't care as much about. I never felt like I truly got to understand better and more of Dalim's thoughts and feelings towards Dean or even on the Magic Tower and everything. I felt like all we saw was a shallow side of him and I guess that's why I'm disappointed. I'll admit that he's hot though.

[cowedeakamatsu]

Ahem Ahem. Welcome everyone to yet another cowede peptalk about themselves cos... lets face it i have an issue. (part 3)

So! like i said my mental health got a bit better, my libido is back motherfuckers, theorically all should be way better! Welllll my libido did came back... but a biiiiiit too strong. As in insanely too strong, and it came back with a looooot of frustration build up, and a overflowed ego that I feel like I have to flex or else i'll re-despair over self confidence and go back to being dark cowede (and big shotout once again to the "close to cowede gang" @plaindanganplain and stoopid name cos during those 2 months i was half depressed half flirty over everything, and complained cooooonstantly. and now ? i'm half flirty half a total bitch, which is probably just as hard to deal with but the thing is im the fucking best so i dont care~) and with that frustration, came frustration conscerning this whole shebang of 1 person vs multiple (harem) once again, @makoto-naegi-stud-and-friends @plaindangan and even the good @carnyreborn if they have good memory know its a thing i always tried, because while im absolutely NOT into the whole alpha thing, i have a strong kink for feeling loved, and... look X aint the only person I had to do multiple person for even though i fucking HATE IT (heck even in my first RPS (without the erotic) back in da good ol days, i found myself planning those monster hunter type / scooby doo esque quests about solving a mystery then tracking what will be a good fun creative stuff to fight (it wasnt dnd, we didnt even really had rules, just a setup universe all our character evolved in, it was on skype and factually ive never been happier) and I had to develop all those side characters and keep track of everything only for a KEY ELEMENT given to 2 other players not being disponible because while the quest was going on those 2 decided to NOT play their part and literaly go in a private room to erp instead ? and for those who say "yeah but thats what a gm does" know i wasnt a gm. I helped create the plot and all but there was no real gm just a bunch of people co writting a cool fun story half stolen on kingdom hearts character because i'm a fucking fanboy. ) and this kinda stuff happened on repeat for other a year. and when i got into erp ? a gooood chunk of them was for absolute assholes who asked the world and gave minimum effort. So anyway i kinda became allergic to doing multiple chars, i hate it, when im super horny im down for anything, but even this i have NO FUN doing at all. BUT since i did sooooo many I developed a desire to be "the center" of those harems. and i already asked all of the affordmention goats to try one erp harem style with a character of my choice (no surprise if it was very often shuichi, kokichi sometime) annnnd well none of them really worked. for carny it was a time and disponibility issue. for plain, well it did kinda work but i ended up overcomplicating things and then I felt bad for it so i sabotaged it, and with the last one well, i jumped to an episodic 1 V 1 formula, cos since the plain accident i feel easily bad for overworking people. back on our subject : X. so what happens is, im back in the game, after 2 month of not responding to our last rp i respond, i try to make my answer fit all their kink especially cos, its at that point a 1 on 1. aaaand they say afterward that they dont want to continue it. OK im in the cowede isnt depressed anymore mood, so its annoying and frustrating cause i know that in Z point in time youll guilt trip me into making another new thing that will be even mooooore focus on X's because they dont want to continue our older stuff but dont want to create a new one but dont want to not have a harem. So i decide "ill just be like "ok" and will come back later. (part final comming soon)

[skylarstark4826]

Watching Spider sleeping calmly and peacefully brought opposite feelings to his father. Miles was sure that the boy hadn’t had many good nights of sleep in his life and he was very guilty of that. Now, with his son close by, Miles was determined to keep his word to take care of him. He just didn’t know exactly where to start.

Trying to clear his thoughts, he left Spider’s room, letting the boy rest without his somewhat dark presence. By the sea, the former colonel sat on the sand, watching the waves, trying to leave his mind empty, his tail still moving restlessly, despite his efforts to clear his mind.

A sudden touch to his ribs put him on alert, grabbing the malefactor’s wrist, which he quickly recognized as his wife’s.

-Careful, sweetheart - he relaxed a little - you shouldn’t try something like that in his conditions.

-I’m not a less efficient warrior because I’m pregnant - Varang quickly replied, in the same proud and haughty way as always.

-You understood what I meant - he soon closed his expression again.

Varang, instead of feeling intimidated, just found the situation even more inviting. With a sideways smile, she quickly glanced at her husband and sat down in front of him, like a stubborn child. Despite being serious, Miles waited to see what would come next.

Her delicate hands went straight to his defined abdomen, drumming quickly, trying to tickle her husband. When the attempt didn’t work out very well, she just opened her mischievous smile even more, moving her hands to his chest, but not lingering there too long. In a cunning way, Varang tickled his armpits, knowing that they were exactly his weak spot.

She got a low laugh from Quaritch, which she seemed pleased with. He suddenly wrapped his arms around her, keeping her still there.

-What do you want, woman? Why do you disturb me so much, Varang? - he kissed her ear when he finished speaking - that wasn’t what I wanted in return for loving you.

-I know you love my teasing - she hummed back, but soon became serious - what ails you, Miles? Just tell me.

-Spider is my problem - he admitted - problem might be the wrong word, he is my responsibility, I’m afraid that he won’t adapt to the tribe, or that I’ll never be enough for him.

-It could be so - she didn’t deny his statement - there’s no way you can completely control Spider’s opinion of you, but your attitudes can count in your favor. I am living proof of that.

-Does that mean I didn’t win you over right away? - Miles looked at her directly - what was it that made you change your opinion about me?

-Your survival instinct - Varang replied calmly, leaving the games aside for a moment - your desire to adapt, despite anything, took a while for you to open your heart to me, perhaps this will harm you in getting closer to the boy , but if you’re always true to him, you’ll be the father I know you already are.

Before any trace of doubt appeared on Miles’ face, his wife took one of his hands, resting it on her belly. Feeling his child move, the consort her gave a smile, overflowing with what his wife understood as love and protection.

Varang trusted him to keep his promises to care for and protect his entire family, which included Spider. Grateful for his wife’s advice and wisdom, Quaritch kissed her sweetly. Varang, somehow, took his fears and anxieties far away.

[liquidluckandstuff]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by: @cringe-queasy @racfoam 1. for the Daddymort fest. I need like 20 more of these moments. #montage

The spirit was irritated, and Harry couldn’t figure out why. He had encouraged Harry to sneak out of his cupboard for something to eat even though Harry knew he would get in trouble.

“If you don’t eat, we both suffer. No one will catch you, just remember what I taught you and you will be fine,” the voice of the spirit was like a whisper in his ear. It was weaker before but over the past year or two it has gotten stronger and stronger. 

“Ok,” Harry said in his childlike voice. He places his tiny hands on the locked cupboard door and closed his eyes. With all of his might, he concentrated on the lock. 

“We’ve practiced this, Harry. You can do it,” the spirit encouraged. 

Harry started to feel the magic inside of him reach out to his call and when he heard a soft click of the lock. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not shout out with excitement so it came out of his hands which shook for a moment with the overflowing feeling and a wide smile appeared on his soft face. 

“I did it,” Harry whispered happily. 

“I’m so proud of you.” The usually irritated voice sounded genuine which made Harry’s heart overflow with a feeling he couldn’t name yet. After all, he couldn’t remember his own parents. How was he supposed to know what love felt like?

2. Darlings and Dragons: next Chapter

Voldemort saw a few more people who looked like the woman who led them and grew curious. “What are they,” he hissed in parseltounge. 

“Tielfings. Demon children. They were born from some deal made with a devil a thousand years ago… or something like that I don’t know. They have horns and a tail and most people are naturally distrustful of them. They get kind of bitter about it sometimes,” Harry explained. “Don’t try burning them because it won’t end well.” 

The smell of something roasting over the fire made Harry’s stomach growl and he turned his head to see a pig being slowly turned over the flame and a group of stronge elder women laughing and drinking as they watched it cook. “Hey, do you think we can-”

“No.” Voldemort said quickly. 

“Oh come on. Just one drink.”  Harry pleaded. 

“No. That’s not what we are here to do.”

“It could be,” Harry said under his breath. “You just don’t like to have any fun.”

Voldemort snapped. “You want to drink with the people who would probably try to kill us without hesitation?” 

“Haven’t I been doing that with you,” Harry said cheekly. “It gets the heart racing doesn’t it? All that danger. It could be good for you old man.”

“I think you have a problem, Harry,” Aster commented worridly. “People don’t do those kinds of thinks and call it fun.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, well he started it. Must of given me some brain damage when he gave me the scar on my head. Or tortured me. Or killed my friends. Or-”

“That was him,” Dorryn hissed at the same time as Aster said “He did what?” 

______

Motha fuckin tieflings babyyyyy

I'm tagging @i-dream-of-libraries @chronosisakitty @leafiloaf @bluesundaycake And if you made it this far its like THE GAME. First of all you lost, second of all now you have to do it.