#every time i think the connections stop another one pops up
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yuttikkele · 2 years ago
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you gotta be kidding me
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lastoneout · 22 days ago
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I keep thinking about all of the disabled activists and people before me who stranded themselves on the 4th floor of buildings for weeks and crawled up stairs and fought with airline staff and schools and doctors and refused to stop existing in the face of injustice and bigotry no matter how big and scary and hopeless it seemed. Every time I get angry and scared the protests that lead to the creation of the ADA pop up again and remind me that disabled people are so much fucking stronger than anyone has ever given us credit for, and I can't help but be proud of that. And I know not all disabled people feel like we should take pride in our disabilities and have flags or whatever, but I think not just living, but thriving, in spite of a world that wants us dead and gone, in the face of both illness and persecution, and how we've not only bought ourselves forward, but uplifted the disabled people around us, secured more equal futures for everyone who will come after, and truly changed the way so many abled people have seen us for the better is something to be damn fucking proud of.
We have always been here and we always will be, there will never be a world without disabled people because being disabled is not bad, it's a natural part of the human experience and yeah it sucks some times but even when it sucks we have fought to build beautiful, unique, happy lives with people, both like us and not, and that should be celebrated.
The first sign of human civilization is the healed femur. The body of the profoundly disabled person who would have needed help to even just eat being carefully laid to rest after decades of a full, happy life. The medicinal plants showing even before we were entirely human we were doing what we could to not just survive, but alleviate suffering while we're at it. Above everything, evolution selected not the baby who can walk and eat and be quiet, but the one that can ask for help.
Disabled people are not just angry cockroach motherfuckers who refuse to die, we are proof of humanity's HUMANITY. Proof that natural selection selected a species that takes care of each other. From healed femurs and medicinal plants to vaccines and IVs and insulin to now, we are driven to help one another, we are at our strongest when we don't leave our most vulnerable behind. And I am living proof of that. My mother is living proof of that. Every disabled and chronically and/or mentally ill person I know is living proof of that.
And I don't know about the rest of you, but will carry that shred of humanity's true nature inside me like it's my fucking soul. I am scared and angry and hurt, but I have a lifetime's experience being scared and angry, and I can shake off the kind of pain that would make Atlas crumble to dust like it's nothing but a stiff fucking breeze. Disabled people have always been here, turning fear and anger and pain into joy and beauty and connection, and I'm not going to let everyone who came before me down. I'm not going to give up. Not now, not ever.
It's okay if you're disabled and you've hit your limit, you're too scared and tired and hurt, I won't blame you. But I won't abandon you, either. I might not be able to right all of the wrongs in the world, but I'll be strong, I'll carry all of you with me, I will not give up.
As I've said before, society hates a cripple who won't die, so we must spite them and live anyway.
Please, live anyway. I know if anyone can, it's us.
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hysteria-things · 8 months ago
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based off of this
BEREAL
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the bereal notification goes off when you and your boyfriend are in an intimate situation.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, spanking, hair pulling, dumbification, breeding, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 631
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: DID NOT MEAN TO RELEASE THIS LATE BUT I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL MIDNIGHT SINCE I REACHED THE POST LIMIT AGAIN😭
but anyway matt/chris will be back tomorrow!
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nate’s phone blows up with notifications on the nightstand from the DA BOYZ group chat with nick, matt, and chris — but he’s too busy to check it now.
moaning loudly, your hands clutch at the pillow your head is lying on. your knuckles are white, eyes rolling back so far in your head. it’s been forty-five minutes, and you came twice already.
you guys are making a fucking mess, but neither of you cares at this moment. his and your cum combined slap against your thighs, a string of arousal connecting and breaking each time he thrusts into you. you mumble something into the pillows, but it’s so incoherent that it sounds like a moan.
his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, the other one running up and down the small of your back. he’s so deep inside your cunt that you seriously don’t know how he does it.
drool drips down your chin and onto the sheets below, body becoming rag doll-like when your grip starts to loosen and you start to rock violently to the speed of the way he’s plowing hard into you with no mercy. “there she is; getting fucked stupid on my cock because that’s all you have to fucking live for.”
only groaning in response, you start to see specks of white every time you blink. your pussy is so tight around his dick that it makes it hard for him to move. nate’s so balls deep that it feels like he’s in your throat.
silenced screams go past your lips as the headboard bangs rapidly against his bedroom wall, his tip brushing against your g-spot for the nth time tonight. he moans, grabbing your ass and jiggling it before slapping it. “might have to put my kid in ya.” he hisses, giving it another hit. “i need to breed this pussy full. you let me use it so well.”
catching a glimpse at his lit phone screen, he sees a specific notification pop up:
⚠️time to bereal⚠️
2 min left to capture a bereal to see what your friends are up to!
he smirks, grabbing his phone and opening the app. he points the camera to his face as the time counts down. eyes hooded and lips swollen, a handful of hickeys decorate his neck in red and purple, along with a few scratch marks on his chest.
pressing the white button at the bottom of the screen, he grips the top of your hair to yank your head off the pillow. he quickly turns his phone around, the back camera getting your face into view.
nate waits patiently a few seconds for the picture to render, letting go of your head so he can upload it. this is the first time he’s seen what you look like all night.
strands of hair are disheveled or stuck to your forehead from sweating, eyes crossed with your tongue sticking out like a dog. that poor brain of yours thinking only about nate’s cock fucking the shit out of you.
“i’m cu-mming.” you hiccup, shaking violently as you’re overstimulated from three hard orgasms. the boy behind you licks his lips, stopping deep before spurts of his hot cum fill your womb.
seconds later, reactions come flooding in on his post. some are from peers from high school, while the rest are from the crew.
madi’s eyes are wide, her hand covering her mouth.
nick looks disgusted, his face half out of the frame.
matt’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, mouth hanging open in complete shock.
last but not least, chris smiles widely at the camera with a big thumbs up.
matthew.sturniolo: oh brother
nicolassturniolo: NATHAN DOE.
user: she’s living the dream, i’m afraid…
madifilipowicz: 😟
user: HE HAS BITCHES???
christophersturniolo: get that pussy bro😝
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @stellarsturns @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2
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badnewswhatsleft · 5 days ago
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rock sound #312 (nov 2024)
transcript below cut:
ROCK SOUND 25 ICON
FALL OUT BOY
A BAND THAT CAPTURED THE HEARTS, MINDS AND HEADPHONES OF A GENERATION OF KIDS WORLDWIDE, FALL OUT BOY UNDOUBTEDLY CHANGED THE LANDSCAPE OF THE ALTERNATIVE SCENE FOREVER, NEVER AFRAID TO EXPERIMENT, TAKE CHANCES AND MAKE BOLD CHOICES AS THEY PUSHED FORWARD. FOLLOWING A SUMMER SPENT EXPLORING THE 'DAYS OF FALL OUT PAST', PATRICK STUMP AND PETE  WENTZ REFLECT ON THEIR PATH FROM POP PUNK, HARDCORE MISFITS TO ALL-CONQUERING, STADIUM-FILLING SONGWRITERS AS THEY ACCEPT THEIR ROCK SOUND 25 ICON AWARD.
WORDS JAMES WILSON-TAYLOR
PHOTOS ELLIOTT INGHAM
Let's begin with your most recent performance which was at When We Were Young festival in Las Vegas. It was such a special weekend, how are you reflecting on that moment?
PATRICK: It's wild, because the band, I think, is going on 23 years now, which really came as a surprise to me. I know it's this thing that old people always say, 'Man, it really goes by so fast', but then it happens to you and you're just taken aback. There were so many times throughout the weekend, every 10 minutes, where I'd turn around and see somebody and be like, 'Holy shit, I haven't seen you in 18 years', or something crazy like that. It was hard not to have a good time. When I was going up to perform with Motion City Soundtrack, which was an exciting thing in itself, I turn around and Bayside is there. And I haven't seen Bayside since we toured with them. God, I don't remember when that was, you know? So there was so much of that. You couldn't help but have a good time.
PETE: I mean, that's an insane festival, right? When they announce it, it looks fake every time. The lineup looks like some kid drew it on their folder at school. For our band, the thing that's a little weird, I think, is that by deciding to change between every album, and then we had the three year break which caused another big time jump, I think that it would be hard for us to focus on one album for that show. We're a band where our fans will debate the best record. So it was amazing that we were able to look backwards and try to build this show that would go through all the eras - nod to Taylor obviously on that one. But it's also an insane idea to take a show that should really be put on for one weekend in a theatre and then try to take it around the world at festivals. The whole time on stage for this particular show production, I'm just like 'Is this thing going to go on time?' Because if the whole thing is working totally flawlessly, it just barely works, you know what I mean? So I give a lot of credit to our crew for doing that, because it's not really a rock show. I know we play rock music and it's a rock festival, but the show itself is not really a rock production, and our crew does a very good job of bending that to fit within the medium.
That show allows you to nod to the past but without falling fully into nostalgia. You are still pushing the band into newer places within it.
PATRICK: That's always been a central thing. We're a weird band, because a lot of bands I know went through a period of rejecting their past, and frankly, I encounter this thing a lot, where people have expected that we stopped interacting with older material. But we always maintained a connection with a lot of the older music. We still close with 'Saturday'. So for us, it was never about letting go of the past. It was about bringing that along with you wherever you go. I'm still the same weird little guy that likes too much music to really pin down. It's just that I've carried that with me through all the different things that I've done and that the band has done. So for us, in terms of going forward and playing new stuff, that's always the thing that's important to me; that there should be new stuff to propel it. I never wanted to be an artist that just gave up on new music and went out and played the hits and collected the check and moved on. It's all got to be creative. That's why I do it. I want to make new music. That's always why I do it. So something like When We Were Young is kind of odd really. It's an odd fit for that, because it's nostalgic, which is not really my vibe all that much. But I found a lot of nostalgia in it. I found a lot of value in looking back and going 'Wow, this was really cool. It was amazing that we did this, that we all did this'. That scene of bands, we're all old now, but it has taken off into such a moment culturally that people can point to.
Let's jump all the way back to the first ever Fall Out Boy show. There is very little evidence of it available online but what are your memories of that performance?
PATRICK: So the very first Fall Out Boy show was at DePaul University in a fancy looking dining hall. I actually applied to DePaul, but I never went there because the band went on tour. I think there were only two or three other bands. One was a band called Stillwell, who were kind of a math rock emo band, and then this heavier, more metallic band. And then we were there, and we had a guitar player, John Flamandan, who I have not seen since that show. He was only in the band for a week or two, and we were still figuring ourselves out. We had three songs and I had never sung before in front of people. I did a talent show at school one time when I was a kid and theatre kind of stuff where you would sing, but it was more in that context. And I was also a kid too. This was the first time ever that I'm the singer for a band and I was fucking terrified. We had a drummer named Ben Rose, really great guy. I haven't seen Ben in a million years, either, but we were still figuring ourselves out. The other thing is that all of us, with me being the exception, were in other bands, and all of our other bands were better than Fall Out Boy was. We were very sloppy and didn't know what we were doing, and so I don't think any of us really took it seriously. But there was a thing that was really funny about it, where even though we kind of thought we sucked, and even though we weren't really focusing on it, we had a lot of fun with each other. We enjoyed trying this other thing, because we were hardcore kids, and we were not the pop punk kids and the pop punk bands in town, that was like 'the thing', and we were not really welcome in that. There was a fun in trying to figure out how to make melodic and pop music when we really didn't have any history with that. It was very obvious that we didn't know what we were doing at the beginning.
So when did it begin to feel like things were finally clicking? When did you find your roles and what you wanted the band to be? 
PETE: In regards to the music, I liked Fall Out boy, way before I probably should have. I remember playing the early demos and it giving me a feeling that I hadn't felt with any of the other bands that I had been in. Now, looking back on it, I might have been a tad early on that. Then as far as the roles, I think that they've been carving themselves out over time. We've always allowed ourselves to gravitate to our strengths. Between me and Patrick, we'd probably make one great, atypical rock artist if we were one person. Because our strengths are things that the other doesn't love as much. But I think that what has happened more is it's less of a fight now and there's more trust. We have a trust with each other. There's things that Patrick will play for me or explain to me, and I don't even really need him to explain it, because I trust him. I may not totally understand it, but I trust him as an artist. On the other side of that, it's also very nice to have someone who can veto your idea, you know what I mean? It's nice to have those kind of checks and balances.
PATRICK: I had been in this band called Patterson, and all three of the other guys sang in kind of a gravelly, Hot Water Music vibe. I was not intending to be a singer, but I would try and sing backups and, it wasn't a criticism, but there was this vibe that, while I could do the gravelly thing, my voice was coming through and it didn't fit. It was too pretty and that became a thing I was kind of embarrassed of. So when Fall Out Boy started, I was actively trying to disguise that and mute it and hide behind affectation. Pete would really push me to stretch my vowels because that was in vogue in pop punk at the time. There were all these different ways that we were trying to suppress me, musically, because we were just trying to figure out how to do the things that the bands we liked did. But that wasn't really us, you know? It's really funny, because 'Take This To Your Grave' was recorded in three sections, about six months apart. Over the course of that time, I can hear us figuring it out. I think a really defining moment for me was 'Saturday', because I am not brave, I am not a bold person, and I do not put myself out there. When I was showing the band 'Saturday', we were jamming on the bit after the second chorus, and I was mumbling around, just mucking my way through it, and I did the falsetto thing. I didn't think anyone could hear me over us bashing around in Joe's parents house in this tiny little room. But Pete stopped, and he goes, 'Do that again'. I was so terrified of doing that in front of these guys, because you gotta remember, I was incredibly shy, but also a drummer. I'd never sung in front of anyone before, and now I'm singing in a band and I'm certainly not going to take chances. So I thought the falsetto thing was really not going to happen, but when I did it, there was this really funny thing. Somehow that song clicked, and it opened up this door for us where we do something different than everybody else. We were aiming to be a pop punk or hardcore band, but we found this thing that felt more natural to me.
As you embarked on Warped Tour, simultaneously you were finding this huge level of pop and mainstream success. How was it navigating and finding your way through those two very different spaces?
PATRICK: I used to work at a used record store and what shows up is all the records after their success. So I got really acquainted and really comfortable with and prepared for the idea of musical failure. I just wanted to do it because I enjoyed doing it. But in terms of planning one's life, I was certain that I would, at most, get to put out a record and then have to go to school when it didn't work out. My parents were very cautious. I said to them after 'Take This To Your Grave' came out that I'm gonna see where this goes, because I didn't expect to be on a label and get to tour. I'm gonna give it a semester, and then it will almost certainly fail, and then after it fails, I'll go to school. And then it didn't fail. Warped Tour was very crazy too, I was talking about this at When We Were Young with My Chem. Both of us were these little shit bands that no one cared about when we booked the tour. Then we got to the tour, and all these people were showing up for us, way more than we expected, way more than Warped Tour expected. So Warped Tour was putting both of us on these little side stages, and the stages would collapse because people were so excited. It was this moment that came out of nowhere all of a sudden. Then we go to Island Records, and I had another conversation with my parents, because every band that I had known up to that point, even the biggest bands in town, they would have their big indie record and then they would go to the major label and drop off the face of the planet forever. So I was certain that was going to happen. I told them again, I'm going to put out this record, and then I'll go to school when this fails. 
PETE: I think that if you really wanted someone to feel like an alien, you would put them on TRL while they were on Warped Tour. You know what I mean? Because it is just bananas. On our bus, the air conditioning didn't work, so we were basically blowing out heat in the summer, but we were just so happy to be on a bus and so happy to be playing shows. You go from that to, two days later, stepping off the bus to brush your teeth and there's a line of people wanting to watch you brush your teeth. In some ways, it was super cool that it was happening with My Chemical Romance too because it didn't feel as random, right? It feels more meant to be. It feels like something is happening. To be on Warped Tour at that time - and if you weren't there, it would be probably hard to imagine, because it's like if Cirque Du Soleil had none of the acrobatics and ran on Monster energy drink. It was a traveling circus, but for it to reach critical mass while we were there, in some ways, was great, because you're not just sitting at home. In between touring, I would come home and I'd be sitting in my bedroom at my parents house. I would think about mortality and the edge of the whole thing and all these existential thoughts you feel when you're by yourself. But on Warped Tour, you go to the signing, you play laser tag, you go to the radio station. So in some ways, it's like you're in this little boot camp, and you don't really even think about anything too much. I guess it was a little bit of a blur.
Pete, when you introduced 'Bang The Doldrums' at When We Were Young, you encouraged the crowd to 'keep making weird shit'. That could almost be a mantra for the band as a whole. Your weirder moments are the ones that made you. Even a song like 'Dance Dance' has a rhythm section you never would have expected to hear on a rock track at that time.
PETE: You know, I just watched 'Joker 2' and I loved it. I do understand why people wouldn't because it subverts the whole thing. It subverts everything about the first one. That's something I've always really loved, when I watch artists who could keep making the same thing, and instead they make something that's challenging to them or challenging to their audience. Sometimes you miss, sometimes you do a big thing and you miss, and we've definitely done that. But I gotta say, all the things that I've really loved about art and music, and that has enriched my life, is when people take chances. You don't get the invention of anything new without that. To not make weird stuff would feel odd, and I personally would much rather lose and miss doing our own thing. To play it safe and cut yourself off around the edges and sand it down and then miss also, those are the worst misses, because you didn't even go big as yourself. This is where we connect with each other, we connect by our flaws and the little weird neuroses that we have. I rarely look at something and go 'Wow, that safe little idea really moved me'. I guess it happens, but I think about this with something like 'Joker 2' where this director was given the keys and you can just do anything. I think a lot of times somebody would just make an expected follow up but some people turn right when they're supposed to turn left. That's always been interesting on an artistic level, but at the same time, I think you're more likely to miss big when you do that.
PATRICK: Going into 'From Under The Cork Tree', I had this sense that this is my only shot. It has already outperformed what I expected. I don't want to be locked into doing the same thing forever, because I know me. I know I'm not Mr. Pop Punk, that's just one of many things I like. So I would be so bummed if for the rest of my life, I had to impersonate myself from when I was 17 and have to live in that forever. So I consciously wanted to put a lot of weird stuff on that record because I thought it was probably my only moment. 'Sugar, We're Goin Down' was a fairly straight ahead pop punk song but even that was weird for us, because it was slow. I remember being really scared about how slow it was, because it's almost mosh tempo for the whole song, which was not anything we had done up to that point. But in every direction, in every song, I was actively trying to push the boundaries as much as I could. 'Dance, Dance' was one of those ones where I was seeing what I can get away with, because I might never get this chance again. We were on tour with a friend's band, and I remember playing the record for them. I remember specifically playing 'Our Lawyer…' that opens the record, which has that 6/8 time feel, and they kind of look at me, like 'What?'. Then I played 'Dance, Dance', and they're like, 'Hey man, you know, whatever works for you. It's been nice knowing you'. But I just knew that, on the off chance that I ended up still being a musician in my 40s, I wanted to still love the music that we made. I didn't want to ever resent it. It's ironic because people say that bands sell out when they don't make the same thing over and over again. But wait a second. Say that again. Think about that.
That attitude seemed to carry directly into 'Infinity On High'. If you may never end up doing this again then let's make sure we bring in the orchestra while we still can... 
PATRICK: That was literally something that I did say to myself this might be the last time, the likelihood is we're going to fail because that's what happens, so this might be the last time that I ever get a chance to have somebody pay for an orchestra and a choir. I always think of The Who when they did 'A Quick One, While He's Away' and there's a part where they go 'cello, cello', because they couldn't afford real cellos, they couldn't afford players. That's what I thought would happen for me in life. So I went in and thought, let's do it all. Let's throw everything at the wall, because there's no chance that it's going to happen again. So many things came together on that record, but I didn't expect it. 'Arms Race' was a very weird song, and I was shocked when management went along with it and had kind of decided that would be the single. I was in disbelief. It did not feel like a single but it worked for us. It was a pretty big song and then 'Thnks Fr Th Mmrs' was easily the big hit off that record. So then we have two hit songs off of an album that I didn't even know would come out at that point. But again, it was very much just about taking the risks and seeing what the hell happened.
As you went on hiatus for a few years, you worked on a number of other creative projects. How did those end up influencing your approach to the band when you returned?
PETE: On the areas of the band where I led, I wanted to be a better leader. When you're younger and you're fighting for your ideas, I don't think that I was the greatest listener. I just wanted to be a better cog in the machine. When you're in a band originally, no one gives you the little band handbook and says 'these are the things you should do', you know? I just wanted to be a better version of who I was in the band. 
PATRICK: There's a combination of things. 'Soul Punk' is a weird record. I love that record but I kind of resent that record for so many things. It's my solo record, but it's also not very me in a lot of ways. I had started with a very odd little art rock record, and then I had some personal tragedies happen. My EP that I put out far out sold expectations so then all of a sudden, Island Records goes, 'Oh, we think this could actually be something we want singles for'. I think we had all expected that I would be putting out a smaller indie record but then all of a sudden they were like 'oh, you could be a pop star'. So then I have to retrofit this art rock record into pop star hit music, and also channel personal tragedy through it. I hadn't ever really been a front man - I'd been a singer, but I hadn't really been a front man, and I hadn't really written lyrics, certainly not introspective, personal lyrics. So that whole record is so strange and muted to me. So I went from that album, which also failed so fucking hard - I should have gone to school after that one. But Pete had reached out to me just as a friend, and said 'I know you're in your own thing right now, and I know that you're not the kind of person that is going to be in my fantasy football league, so I'm not going to see you unless we make music. But you're my buddy, and that kind of bums me out that I don't see you at all, so I guess we have to make music'. I thought that was a fairly convincing pitch. It's true, that was what we do when we hang out - we make music. So we reconvene, and going into it, I had all these lessons that really made me understand Pete better, because Pete is the natural front end person. So many of our arguments and frustrations and the things that we didn't see eye to eye on, I grew to understand having now been in the position of the point man that had to make all the decisions for my solo thing. It really flipped my understanding of why he said the things he would say, or why he did things he would do. I remember early on thinking he was so pushy, but then, in retrospect, you realise he was doing it for a reason. There's so many little things that really changed for me doing 'Soul Punk' that were not musical but were more about how you run a band and how you run a business, that made me understand and respect him a lot more.
What are memories of that initial return and, specifically, that tiny first show back at the Metro venue in Chicago?
PETE: Those first shows were definitely magical because I really wasn't sure that we would be on a stage again together. I don't have as many memories of some of our other first things. We were just talking about Warped Tour, I don't have many memories of those because it is almost wasted on you when it's a blur and there's so many things happening. But with this, I really wanted to not take it for granted and wanted to take in all the moments and have snapshots in our own heads of that show. I did a lot of other art during the time when we were off, everybody did, but there's a magic between the four of us and it was nice to know that it was real. When we got on that stage again at the Metro for the first time, there was something that's just a little different. I can't really put my finger on it, but it makes that art that we were making separately different than all the other stuff.
Musically, as you moved forward, everything sounded much bigger, almost ready for arenas and stadiums. Was that a conscious decision on your part?
PETE: Patrick felt like he was bursting with these ideas. It felt like these had been lying in wait, and they were big, and they were out there, and whether he'd saved them for those records, I don't really know. That's what it felt like to me. With 'Save Rock And Roll', we knew we had basically one shot. There were really three options; you'll have this other period in your career, no one will care or this will be the torch that burns the whole thing down. So we wanted to have it be at least on our terms. Then I think with 'American Beauty...' it was slightly different, because we made that record as fast as we could. We were in a pop sphere. Is there a way for a band to be competitive with DJs and rappers in terms of response time? Are we able to be on the scene and have it happen as quickly? I think it kind of made us insane a little bit. With 'American Beauty…', we really realised that we were not going to walk that same path in pop culture and that we would need to 'Trojan horse' our way into the conversation in some way. So we thought these songs could be played in stadiums, that these songs could be end titles. What are other avenues? Because radio didn't want this right now, so what are other avenues to make it to that conversation? Maybe this is just in my head but I thought 'Uma Thurman' could be a sister song to 'Dance, Dance' or maybe even 'Arms Race' where it is weird but it has pop elements to it.
PATRICK: I had a feeling on 'Save Rock And Roll' that it was kind of disjointed. It was a lot of good songs, but they were all over the place. So when we went into 'American Beauty…', I really wanted to make something cohesive. I do think that record is very coherent and very succinct - you either like it or you don't, and that's pretty much it all the way through. By the time we got to 'MANIA', I had done all this production and I'd started to get into scoring. The band had done so many things and taken so many weird chances that I just felt free to do whatever. At that point, no one's going to disown me if I try something really strange so let's see what happens. 'Young And Menace' was a big part of that experiment. People hate that song, and that's okay. It was meant to be challenging, it's obviously not supposed to be a pop song. It's an abrasive song, it should not have been a single. However, I do think that record should have been more like that. Towards the end of the production, there was this scramble of like, 'Oh, fuck, we have no pop music on this and we need to have singles' and things like that. That took over that record and became the last minute push. I think the last half of that record was recorded in the span of two weeks towards the end of the recording to try and pad it with more pop related songs. I look at that record and think it should have all been 'Young And Menace'. That should have been our 'Kid A' or something. It should have really challenged people.
But we have spoken before about how 'Folie à Deux' found its audience much later. It does feel like something similar is already beginning to happen with 'MANIA'...
PETE: I agree with you, and I think that's a great question, because I always thought like that. There's things that you're not there for, but you wish you were there. I always thought about it when we put out 'MANIA', because I don't know if it's for everyone, but this is your moment where you could change the course of history, you know, this could be your next 'Folie à Deux', which is bizarre because they're completely different records. But it also seems, and I think I have this with films and bands and stuff as well, that while one thing ascends, you see people grab onto the thing that other people wouldn't know, right? It's like me talking about 'Joker 2' - why not talk about the first one? That's the one that everybody likes. Maybe it's contrarian, I don't really know. I just purely like it. I'm sure that's what people say about 'Folie à Deux' and 'MANIA' as well. But there's something in the ascent where people begin to diverge, you are able to separate them and go 'Well, maybe this one's just for me and people like me. I like these other ones that other people talk about, but this one speaks to me'. I think over time, as they separate, the more people are able to say that. And then I can say this, because Patrick does music, I think that sometimes he's early on ideas, and time catches up with it a little bit as well. The ideas, and the guest on the record, they all make a little bit more sense as time goes on.
'MANIA' is almost the first of your albums designed for the streaming era. Everything is so different so people could almost pick and choose their own playlist.
PETE: Of course, you can curate it yourself. That's a great point. I think that the other point that you just made me think of is this was the first time where we realised, well, there's not really gatekeepers. The song will raise its hand, just like exactly what you're saying. So we should have probably just had 'The Last Of The Real Ones' be an early single, because that song was the one that people reacted to. But I think that there was still the old way of thinking in terms of picking the song that we think has the best chance, or whatever. But since then, we've just allowed the songs to dictate what path they take. I think that that's brilliant. If I'd had a chance to do that, curate my own record and pick the Metallica songs or whatever,that would be fantastic. So it was truly a learning experience in the way you release art to me.
PATRICK: After 'MANIA', I realised Fall Out Boy can't be the place for me to try everything. It's just not. We've been around for too long. We've been doing things for too long. It can't be my place to throw everything at the wall. There's too much that I've learned from scoring and from production now to put it all into it. So the scoring thing really became even more necessary. I needed it, emotionally. I needed a place to do everything, to have tubas and learn how to write jazz and how to write for the first trumpet. So then going into 'So Much (For) Stardust', it had the effect of making me more excited about rock music again, because I didn't feel the weight of all of this musical experimentation so I could just enjoy writing a rock song. It's funny, because I think it really grew into that towards the end of writing the record. I'd bet you, if we waited another month, it would probably be all more rock, because I had a rediscovered interest in it.
It's interesting you talk about the enjoyment of rock music again because that joy comes through on 'So Much (For) Stardust' in a major way, particularly on something like the title track. When the four of you all hit those closing harmonies together, especially live, that's a moment where everything feels fully cohesive and together and you can really enjoy yourselves. There's still experimental moments on the album but you guys are in a very confident and comfortable space right now and it definitely shows in the music. 
PATRICK: Yeah, I think that's a great point. When you talk about experimentation too and comfort, that's really the thing isn't it? This is always a thing that bugged me, because I never liked to jam when I was a kid. I really wanted to learn the part, memorise it and play it. Miles Davis was a side man for 20 years before he started doing his thing. You need to learn the shit out of your music theory and your instrument - you need to learn all the rules before you break them. I always had that mindset. But at this point, we as a band have worked with each other so much that now we can fuck around musically in ways that we didn't used to be able to and it's really exciting. There's just so much I notice now. There are ways that we all play that are really hard to describe. I think if you were to pull any one of the four of us out of it, I would really miss it. I would really miss that. It is this kind of alchemy of the way everyone works together. It's confidence, it's also comfort. It's like there's a home to it that I feel works so well. It's how I'm able to sing the way I sing, or it's how Andy's able to play the way he plays. There's something to it. We unlock stuff for each other.
Before we close, we must mention the other big live moment you had this year. You had played at Download Festival before but taking the headline slot, especially given the history of Donington, must have felt extra special. 
PETE: It felt insane. We always have a little bit of nerves about Download, wondering are we heavy enough? To the credit of the fans and the other bands playing, we have always felt so welcomed when we're there. There's very few times where you can look back on a time when... so, if I was a professional baseball player, and I'm throwing a ball against the wall in my parents garage as a kid, I could draw a direct link from the feeling of wanting to do that. I remember watching Metallica videos at Donington and thinking 'I want to be in Metallica at Donington'. That's not exactly how it turned out, but in some ways there is that direct link. On just a personal level, my family came over and got to see the festival. They were wearing the boots and we were in the mud. All this stuff that I would describe to them sounds insane when you tell your family in America - 'It's raining, but people love it'. For them to get to experience that was super special for me as well. We played the biggest production we've ever had and to get to do that there, the whole thing really made my summer.
PATRICK: There's not really words for it. It feels so improbable and so unlikely. Something hit me this last year, this last tour, where I would get out on stage and I'd be like, 'Wait, fucking seriously? People still want to see us and want to hear us?' It feels so strange and surreal. I go home and I'm just some schlubby Dad and I have to take out the compost and I have to remember to run the dishwasher. I live this not very exciting life, and then I get out there at Download and it's all these people. Because I'm naturally kind of shy, for years, I would look down when I played because I was so stressed about what was happening. Confidence and all these have given me a different posture so when I go out there, I can really see it, and it really hits you. Download, like you said, we've done before, but there's something very different about where I am now as a person. So I can really be there. And when you walk out on that stage, it is astounding. It forces you to play better and work harder, because these people waited for us. The show is the audience and your interaction with it. In the same way that the band has this alchemy to it, we can't play a show like that without that audience.
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cyberrose2001 · 2 months ago
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I hate TF One sentinel so much.
I fucking hate him.
I hate him so much I wanna see this mech a whimpering teary mess underneath me after overloading more than he can take.
I want him overstimulated and trembling. venting hard as he is forced to cum again. Tied down and obedient to no one else but me. Him on his knees begging for release.
I hate him so much I wanna see him pathetic and whipped for pussy or spike. Hell make him whipped for both. Go wild.
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TF:One Sentinel Prime x Human Reader
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okay so i had a couple ideas but this is the one i went with. essentially sentinel using you to make his dick look bigger so he can stroke his ego, but keeps it a secret. to which you find pathetic and of great value (aka to keep living it up rich giant alien robot style)
also go easy on me!! slowly learning how to write for the universe (as alot of people probably are)
Warnings: TF:ONE SPOILERS, Cybertronian/Human, Dom/Sub Elements, Humiliation/Degradation, Bondage, Face Sitting/Cunnilingus, Cream Pies, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation
Word Count: 1707
18+ ONLY MINORS DNI
For a species that's so highly advanced compared to your own, you'd think there would be far more disunities. After all, this planet wasn't made for you. But despite this Olympic-sized hurdle, most of the Cybertronians seemed curious about you. A little human, freshly birthed compared to the universe's timeline itself, bought to Cybertron by their ventures.
It's taken a lot to get used to. But the primal urge associated with human nature seems omnipresent, as you have learned.
Sentinel Prime. The lord and master of Cybertron had his curiosity peaked. He initially took you in as a novelty, a mere collector's item to show off as a display of acceptingness between Cybertronians and Humans—a symbiotic relationship between two species.
At least, that's what he tells them. Yet another lie for him to cover up for the masses.
"You're such a fucking sellout, Sentinel."
A liar he may be, but his trembling form and the whines of your name speak truthfully. And with all the queries of your purpose on this planet, one thing is sure.
Sentinel Prime can't get enough of human nature.
And you're determined to squeeze every last drop of that precious information.
In the lavish and very private penthouse of his tower overlooking Iacon City, Sentinel Prime kneels before you on the berth. Though at eye level, the balance of power remains clear. Ropes of golden silk tie his arms behind his back, connecting to the ones adorning his thighs, keeping them embarrassingly wide open. He can't count how often he's been in this position before, but he learns something new about your little fleshy body each time.
"Yeah, I know." Sentinel wriggles against the ropes despite having no intention of escaping from them, "B-But I have an image to upkeep, you know that."
"Oh, an image! I see," Gripping the kibble on his chin, you pull him closer, to which he flinches, "Because the only image I see is you popping a boner over a little fleshy like me. Now, wouldn't that cause a stir, hm?"
Sentinel grits his dentae, his faceplates heating up at the proximity. He says nothing, knowing that he could dig himself a deeper hole. But he's already too deep, so much so that he could be tried in court for inappropriate relations with organic species. Or worse, he could have the title of 'Prime' stripped away from him.
But he can't deny it. He's so turned on by your soft skin pressing against him that it almost makes him sob, spike standing erect right in front of you. Deliciously throbbing and angry, ripe for your taking.
"On your back, I mean it." You push against his chassis, and he flops backward, grunting as the winds knocked out of him. Your little form climbs atop him, but you don't stop at his spike. You keep climbing until you're standing on his chassis.
"Wh- What are you doing?" Sentinel questions, his voice strained. He watches as you straddle his face and push your cunt against his intake, a pleasant surprise to Sentinel.
"I'm gonna put that lying tongue of yours to good use," You moan, wiggling your hips against his glossa, "Ever tasted human pussy before? Because it's about time you did."
Sentinel grunts as you grind your hips against his face. Though tiny, you're still enough to take his breath away. The sweet, earthly, deliciously human scent fills his olfactory sensors, and he dives in with the first lap at your folds. It's new to him, soft and plush against his glossa. He doesn't even need a second taste to confirm that he's already addicted.
A soft gasp leaves you as Sentinel essentially makes out with your pussy, moving from opened-mouthed kisses to flicks at your clit. You sit down further on him, causing his glossa to push into you forcefully. The ridges massage along your walls and make you see stars, filling you perfectly, making it hard to believe you had no trouble taking his spike. But you won't tell him that. It's far too much fun to humiliate him and make him putty between your thighs instead.
"Is that the best you can do, Sentinel?"
The Prime whines into your flesh as his glossa works double time, "Pfflease..." He takes a breath before he laps at your clit again, rubbing and grinding with the help of your hips.
"What was that? I can't hear you." Your dominant side gets the better of you, and you deviously shift your hips up, hovering just shy above his saturated dermas, "Say it again."
"Please- I can't- I need you to fuck me-" Sentinel whimpers, wincing as his spike painfully throbs. It's all getting too much for poor Sentinel, "I need your valve-" He cranes his neck in a poor attempt to lick at you once again but whines when you pull away from him entirely.
"I can't believe you, Sentinel. You can hardly wait five minutes? How disappointing." You lean closer, "But I won't say no. I hope your spike can perform better than that tongue of yours."
You slide back down his frame, smiling at Sentinel's soft, frustrative growls. You straddle him again, his spike standing tall between your thighs. It only reaches past your navel, and a thought occurs as you gaze upon the pretty biolights.
He must have the smallest one on Cybertron; no wonder his ego's so big.
And no wonder he prefers to fuck a human and keep it a secret.
"You're so hard for me, Sentinel, aren't you?"
"Y-Yes. Only you." Sentinel heaves his chest, still worked up from eating you out. He watches tentatively as you line yourself up, the weeping tip of his spike just pressing against the threshold. He arches his back against the restraints as his spike is engulfed in your heat, biting back a sob of relief.
"Good," You press your hips down agonisingly slow, hands pressed against his abdomen for support, "Keep still, or I won't let you finish."
You sink the rest of the way, planting your ass on his pelvis. The unrelenting fullness causes a shaky breath to whistle past your lips, but you suppress a moan. Sentinel whines, already trembling against the ropes. He tries to roll his hips up into you, but a taut squeeze of your walls halts him in his tracks.
"Do you not listen? I said stay still." You growl through your teeth. Rolling your hips forward, you create a rhythm that has Sentinel crying out. He has no control, not with his servos tied behind him, nothing to grab onto as you start to bounce ruthlessly on his throbbing spike. His helm lulls back in pleasure and hopelessness as he's forced inside you again and again.
"Ah- Ah!! Y-Y/n! I'm gonna-" Sentinel mewls, clenching his optics shut, his chest heaving once again on the cusp of an embarrassingly early overload.
You keep bouncing despite your breathing becoming laboured, fueled by the desire to see Sentinel come undone and beg for your mercy, "Yeah? You gonna cum, Sentinel? Show me how much- guh- how much you love human pussy?"
"Y-Yes! Oh, Primus yes-" Sentinel gasps, arching his back struts as you slam down on his spike, "I love it- ohhn- I love your organic valve so much-"
A raw, sinful cry wracks his frame, shuddering as he pumps his transfluids into you. The warm, suspiciously glowing fluid leaks and spurts out, causing a shiver down your spine.
"My oh my, Sentinel, that was fast." You moan softly, slowly circling your hips, "Not only are you pathetic, but you're pathetic and don't last long in bed."
Sentinel whines wearily at the extra stimulation, "Sorry- nghh- I just can't help it- AHhn!-"
You don't let him finish his sentence. Instead, you lift your hips and slam your hips back down, sending transfluids all over his pelvis. You work yourself up to a back-breaking rhythm, determined to keep your promise to make him beg for mercy. You watch in fascination as Sentinel starts to thrash against the restraints, and how he bares his dentae at you, how that disgustingly handsome face belonging to a mech at your mercy begins to contort in overwhelming pleasure.
"F-Fuck, Sentinel-" Double entendre. You keep going, fingers digging into his hip plating to prevent being thrown off. The wet, sloppy noises of metal meeting flesh spark a deep heat within the pits of your stomach.
He keeps thrashing against you as he cries and howls your name, his hips pressing into the berth to try and escape the overstimulation. He tries to form words, but all that leaves him is an incoherent babble of pleads and whines for you to stop. He overloads again, crying and tugging at the restraints, another gush of warmth spilling into you.
"C'mon, Sentinel-" You moan, your thighs trembling from the workout of holding the mech down. Your cunt aches at the prolonged stretch, but you're determined once again to draw one last overload from him. You reach down and start to circle your clit, hoping to breach your orgasm, "G-Gimme one more, and I'll stop."
"P-Primus below-" Sentinel clenches his optics shut as your pussy strangles his spike, his hips stuttering. The tightness of your walls lurches him forward as he shoots another load into you.
"Fuck yes!" You give him a show of your own and arch your back, finally reaching your orgasm. You cry out and clench down, causing more trans fluid to spill out from you. A soft, exhausted whine leaves you once you're left in the afterglow.
What a mess. Layers of sticky trans fluid coat your thighs and Sentinels' pelvis, the dull throbbing of an overworked spike still seated inside you. It's a horrific sight to walk in on if anyone were to, but maybe they should, if only to expose Sentinel for the filthy fleshy fucker he is.
Looking up, you're met with a shamelessly erotic mess of the Prime. His faceplates painted blue, his glossa lulling out of his intake, the heavy heaving of his chest plates—the face of a liar couldn't be more irresistible.
You chuckle to yourself, whipping out a small data pad and snapping a picture.
"How's that for an image, Sentinel?"
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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 month ago
Text
Soulmates (Rorona Zoro x Fem!reader)
A/N: Hi :) -Val
Words: 2, 197
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“I don't believe in that bullshit,” Zoro grunts and takes a sip of his sake bottle. 
Nami and Usopp nod in agreement. 
“Wait, I don’t get it,” Luffy says with a frown. “How does it work?” 
“The story says that we all have one person who completes us in every way,” they all look at Robin. “It’s like you’ve found the perfect piece of meat, Luffy,” she smiles at him knowing his language. 
Luffy’s eyes grow in awe understanding the meaning of soulmates. 
The kitchen stays silent as the rain outside drops hard. 
“But, do you eat that person?” Luffy asks again, making Chopper and Usopp laugh. 
“No, Captain,” Robin giggles. “This person helps, protects, loves, and takes care of you. The connection is mutual. They say you feel attracted to that person even if you don’t know who they are. It’s beyond being a nakama, friend, lover, or protector.” 
“And how can you find them?” Chopper asks. 
“Everyone has a birthmark and your soulmate has the same as you,” Robin continues. “The legend says that destiny would reunite you two at some point in life.” 
Chopper and Luffy gasp. 
“Yeah, that sounds lovely and magical, too bad it’s just a legend and it isn’t real!” Nami exclaims.  
“What?” Chopper, Luffy, and now Sanji squeak in shock. 
“Nami-swan!? You don’t believe in soulmates?” The blond looks at her half-offended half-disillusioned. 
Nami shrugs. “I’ve seen so many people get disappointed when they can't find their ‘soulmate’.” 
“Hang on! I don’t think I have the mark,” says Luffy looking at every part of his rubber body. 
“Oh! It’s on the back of your left ankle,” Chopper points. “I thought it was just a spot, but...” he hums “It looks like a banana, actually,” he giggles. 
“What!? Really?” Luffy raises his leg and stretches it to find his birthmark. He laughs excitedly. 
“What about you, Usopp?” Chopper looks at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?” 
“Uuuh!” Luffy exclaims. “Is that girl from your home island your soulmate?” 
“Usopp’s face flushed in embarrassment as he crossed his arms. “Who? Kaya? I-I don’tI mean–” he stutters.  
“She doesn’t have to be his soulmate to be with him,” Zoro adds, rolling his eyes. 
“She’s not my–” Usopp squeaks. “I mean, we aren’t–It was just a kiss, it doesn’t–” he keeps trying to explain nervously. 
“See? Usopp found his soulmate!” Robin points with a smile. 
“What!? You’re not listening. I’m telling you that she’s not!” 
“I personally and fiercely believe in soulmates,” Sanji interrupts while he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt on his left arm. He shows them his mark in the form of a knife. “I know they exist somewhere and,” he smirks, “they’re giving me another reason to keep living and keep looking for them,” he says proudly. 
Zoro scoffs and chuckles shaking his head. “Still bullshit, no matter how hard you try to decorate it, cook.” 
Sanji frowns and looks at him. “These are facts, no matter how you make it sound, Moosehead. Even you have one. I don’t know how it could be possible, though...” he murmurs the last thing. 
Zoro groans. “Nothing’s fucking written or is out there. Nobody tells me what to do or who I have to be with. You can be with whomever you want, whenever you want, it’s stupid to waste time searching for a silly birthmark that could be just a fucking spot or scar on your skin,” Everyone looks at the swordsman when his tone increases and his body tenses as he talks. His lousy posture on the chair changes to a straightened one, and the veins around his muscles pop. 
“Wow, I think we’ve stroked a nerve there, uh Zoro?” Nami says unsure. 
Her voice makes him clear his head. Zoro sighs and returns to his sake. “I just think it’s a stupid thing to believe...” he shrugs. 
Nami hums and nods. She then looks at you. “What about you, Y/N?” But she stops and frowns as you give a start. “You’ve been oddly quiet about this,” The redhead looks down to your right arm, which is strongly grabbed by your other hand. 
“Well,” you clear your throat as you leave alone your upper arm, realizing Nami’s worried sight. “I’m not sure if it’s real or not,” you try to sound chill but fail. 
Nami is the only one who reads you, although she doesn’t know why you’re acting like that, she helps you by changing the subject to distract the others. 
Your friend’s voices fade away as your mind clouds in many thoughts. Instinctively, you grab your right arm again. On your inner bicep, there is tinted skin since birth, your soulmate’s mark, which you found not so long since you joined the straw hats crew, it’s the same form of three bamboo sticks that Zoro has tattooed on his left pectoral. 
 ** 
It has always been hard for Zoro to connect with other people. He calls himself a loner, but situations in life make him change that. First was his friend Kuina; although she passed away, he learned a lot thanks to her. Like Loyalty, keeping promises and love.  
Then, Luffy jumped into his life and, in Luffy’s style, he shook Zoro’s mind with new lessons. As his crew got bigger, Zoro learned the real meaning of being a nakama. His trust grew with the straw hats (within his limits, of course). 
Finally, you came along the way, a person Zoro never thought he needed until he had you. It all happened so naturally for him, to follow every movement you made, to look for you, to search your voice and laughter, and to hold your smaller hand. 
If the others knew deep into his thoughts, they’d understand why he snapped at the idea of soulmates. He’s confident that his life is based on his strengths, decisions, and his guts. Magic or anything else didn’t do it. Him and only him. And maybe, that’s why he got distracted when Nami changed the subject so quickly and he hasn’t thought about it ever since. For now, he has more important things to care about… like you acting weird, avoiding and hiding from him and he doesn’t know why. 
He has learned to give you time sometimes, but he senses something different, and it has been five days since you two had a real conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 
“You should be at the market,” you answer without looking at him. You don’t stop in your tracks either. “Lost again?” 
He scoffs rolling his eyes (yes, he got lost). “I’m worried,” he says in a serious tone. 
“You shouldn’t, I’ll help you.” 
“Hey,” he grabs your wrist and makes you turn to him. Your eyes fidget everywhere else but him. “What’s wrong?” 
“What?” 
“Don’t bullshit me,” he warns then, he sighs relaxing his features, then grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “Why don’t you want to talk?” 
You sigh stepping away from his hand. “It’s nothing,” you whisper. 
Zoro doesn’t think twice about grabbing your waist and pulling you to him in a big hug. You gasp at the sudden movement, but your body recognizes his warmth and strength, so you melt against him. You hide your face on his broad chest as you feel his lips on your hair. He hugs you for a while, humming and caressing your hips. 
“I thought, I was the one with the communication issues, don’t take my place now,” You can feel his stupid smirk as you scoff rolling your eyes. 
As always, his touch and voice relax your mind and body and the anxiety fades a little. You step back and raise your head to look at him. 
“There you are,” he smiles. He caresses your cheek as you prepare yourself to confess. 
You aren’t sure exactly why you are so afraid. It's not like Zoro’s gonna change, right? But the unknown terrifies you, that’s why you haven’t told him in all this time since you found out. And after that soulmate’s talk the other day, the anxiety kicks in instantly. 
“Th-the other night…uh- Y-you said that. I mean…ugh!” You grunt. “Is- is that what you… of soulmates?” You make a face. 
Zoro takes a moment to remember and then, he gets it. “Is that what’s all about? That legend? You believe in it, don’t you?” He frowns. 
Your heart sinks. “I- I know...” you want to talk about your birthmark, but he interrupts you with another big hug.  
“It’s okay, Doll,” he shrugs “I don’t care if you do.” 
You frown. “But Zoro I–” you try to talk against his chest. 
“I knew what I was getting into when we started dating.” 
“What?” You lean back.  
“Yeah,” he smirks looking down at you “I knew you were crazy since you joined the crew anyway,” he shrugs.  
“What!? Hey!” You punch his chest as he bursts into laughter. “You fucking idiot,” you said incapable to hide your smile. 
The goofy moment is gone when you both hear an explosion not so far from the Sunny. 
** 
When you open your eyes, you see Chopper’s office. You try to move, but there’s a sharp pain on your left shoulder that makes you whine. 
“Hey, stop. You’ll open the wound!” Zoro helps you to get more comfortable on the med bed and he gives you some water. 
“W-what happened?” You ask with a groan. 
“You did a stupid, reckless thing. That’s what happened,” he groans. 
“What?” 
“The Marines almost caught you,” he clenches his jaw. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead.” 
The memory flashes in your mind, you helped Nami and Robin fight against the Marines, but you got distracted for a second and then nothing. Zoro sits on a chair next to you, but then Chopper enters and climbs on your bed. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks, voice and face in serious doctor mode. 
“It hurt,” you smile at the adorable doctor. 
“I’ll give you stronger pain killers,” he moves naturally around his office and back to you, checking your wounds. “All right, you have to rest in bed, no excuses!” he warns you. “And I’ll help you clean your wounds, after that Zoro can do it.” 
Zoro nods. “Anything else, Doctor?” He smirks at him. 
“Hmmm…” Chopper thinks. “Ah! Yes! Why you didn’t tell us that you two are soulmates?” He asks innocently. 
“Uh?” Zoro frowns. You try to warn him with your eyes, but Chopper only frowns at you.  
“She has the same mark as you!” He exclaims happy, but then, he senses something odd and stutters looking between you and Zoro as he gets nervous. “Uh… maybe I’m wrong?” He laughs awkwardly. 
“It can happen to anybody, Chopper,” you continue with a tense smile. 
Both of you laugh, then somebody calls to Chopper and he runs away. 
“Well, I think I’m kinda hungry, Zoro,” you try to sound like nothing happened but you look at the swordsman. His body stays tense on the chair and his eyes are glued to somewhere in the room. “Zoro?” You wait for a while, getting worried. You grab his hand. “Zoro?” 
“Where?” He asks. 
“Uh?” 
His eyes return to you. “Where is it? Is it–Is it true?” 
You sigh as you carefully move the sheet that covers your body. Your upper body’s wrapped in just bandages and a thin top covering your breasts, but you turn a little and hiss when you raise your right arm enough to show him the three bamboo sticks. Zoro stands up and leans to softly grab your arm as his other hand traces the mark on his chest.  
He lets go and sits again. “That’s why you avoided me,” he says to himself. “The things I said… but you are… the mark...”  
“Are you broken?” You ask him, and he looks at you. Zoro notices your teary eyes and worried expression. 
It’s a lot to process for him. A minute ago, he was angry because he couldn’t protect you enough to prevent your wounds, now he has discovered that the bullshit he always listened to it’s real and in front of him… all this time. Out of nowhere, Zoro chuckles and shakes his head. 
“Oh, no...” you whine. “I did break you!” 
“I-fuck, now everyone’s gonna mock me,” he grunts looking at you. His cheeks flush as he raises a hand to clean a tear dropping out. “I’m sorry.” 
“Wh-why?” 
“For saying those things, now I understand I...” he sighs. “Well, now I get why I always wanted to be at your side,” he makes a face and you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’re still confused but relieved at the same time, you never expected that reaction, but it's better. 
“It wasn’t ‘cause I’m the most beautiful girl?” You tease. He laughs. 
“Yeah, that too,” he takes your hand and kisses it. 
“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner… I thought...” 
“No, it’s okay,” he nods. “It’s better this way, at least in my head I fell for ya’ ‘cause I wanted to.”  
You smile. “Me too. The tattoo was something extra.” 
He chuckles and leans to kiss you. 
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Taglist.
@sosactrl @irethepotato
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moonyswoony · 3 months ago
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Lost and found
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Pairing: Five hargreeves x reader
Summary: You an Five discover more than just plants and strawberries in the greenhouse
Warning(s): kissing, fluff, nothing really
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“What the hell is this place?” Five muttered, his voice tinged with suspicion.
“Beats me,” you replied, stepping further inside. “But it’s not like we’ve stumbled upon a better place than this one so far.”
The two of you had been on the run for what felt like an eternity. Your attempt to figure out the subway had gone sideways—again—and now you were stuck in this strange, green timeline with no clear path back.
Five stayed close as you ventured deeper into the greenhouse, his sharp eyes scanning every inch. “This doesn’t make sense. None of this should be here.”
You brushed your fingers against a nearby vine, feeling the life pulsing through it. “Maybe this is just a small piece of the world that refused to die.”
Five huffed, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “That, or we’ve stumbled into some kind of twisted fairytale.”
“Great. Does that make you the grumpy old troll under the bridge?” you teased.
“If I’m the troll, that makes you the annoying adventurer who won’t stop asking questions,” he shot back, though his tone was more fond than bitter.
As you explored, you found yourself drawn to a patch of strawberries growing along the far wall. They were perfectly ripe, a vibrant red that stood out against the greens and browns around them. Without thinking, you plucked one and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweetness.
Five watched with raised eyebrows. “You sure that’s safe?”
“If it’s not, at least I’ll go out with a decent meal,” you replied, plucking another and offering it to him.
He hesitated, then took it, biting into the fruit with a thoughtful expression. “Not bad.”
“High praise from you,” you quipped.
There was a brief, comfortable silence as you both absorbed the strange beauty of this place. The tension that had been winding tighter and tighter over the past few days—or even years—slowly began to ease, the peacefulness of this place working its way into your entire being.
As you wandered deeper, you came across a patch of wildflowers bathed in golden sunlight. You knelt to touch them, their delicate petals soft under your fingers. “This feels like a dream,” you murmured.
“Or a trap,” Five countered, though his voice lacked its usual edge.
You looked up at him, catching an unguarded expression in his eyes,something softer, more vulnerable than you were used to seeing. “Five?”
He stepped closer, the sunlight casting a warm glow across his features. “You’ve always been fearless,” he chuckled,though his voice was quieter than usual.
You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m not fearless, I��m—”
“You are,” he insisted. “And I should have told you sooner.”
“Five…”
“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix everything, trying to keep us all alive, that I forgot there are things I want, too,” he said, his gaze pined on you.
His words hit you like a punch to the gut as you realised what he was implying—not in a painful way, but in a way that left you breathless. You had always known there was something between you, a connection that went deeper than partnership or friendship, but his words still had that affect on you.
Without giving yourself time to overthink it, you reached up and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic, but slow and deliberate, a promise in every brush of your lips against his. Five responded in kind, one hand slipping around your waist while the other cupped the back of your neck, holding you close.
The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing your lower lip before slipping into your mouth. You felt your knees weaken as a wave of heat washed over you, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt as if to support yourself. His hand slid down your back, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew more intense, more desperate.
It was a kiss that spoke of everything you had both been holding back,years of unspoken feelings, of missed opportunities, all coming to the surface in this one, perfect moment.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.
“I love you,” he said, his voice rough but certain.
You smiled, your thumb brushing against his jaw. “I love you too.”
For a moment, you both stood there in silence, the reality of what you had just confessed settling over you like a warm blanket. The world around you didn’t feel as interesting anymore, not when he was in front of you.
Five glanced around at the greenery, his expression contemplative. “You know, we don’t have to leave right away.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay?”
“Just for a little while,” he admitted, surprising you with the softness in his voice. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment of peace. We could use the rest and some proper food.”
You looked around at the lush greenery, the golden sunlight filtering through the broken skylight, and felt a sense of calm settle over you. “Yeah,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “Let’s stay.”
With that decision made, the tension that had been a constant companion began to melt away. You found a spot to sit, leaning against a wall covered in ivy, and Five joined you, his hand finding yours and holding it tightly.
For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax. No missions, no timelines, no disasters—just the two of you, in a place that felt almost unreal.
Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if we’re staying here, we might as well make the most of it.”
You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring every second. “I couldn’t agree more.”
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joemama-2 · 5 months ago
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nanami kento has always been a patient man. he’s respectful and doesn’t talk to unless spoken to. he doesn’t like most people, might even hate some. but you’re not the type of person he would exactly hate, unlike a certain someone. he thinks you’re kind, polite, you always bow respectfully to your seniors, you diligently complete every task that’s asked of you. there’s also one more thing about you….he just cant put his finger on it. maybe you’re just tolerable, yeah that’s it.
you’re not a sorcerer, at least not a very good one. it’s why you’ve opted to be an auxiliary manager like ijichi and akari. “as long as i get to help the sorcerers in battle, i’m fine with whatever position i’ve been assigned.” you would say with a big and warm smile, innocently, naively. he thinks you’re too good for such a rotten society, something like that will get people killed. and he doesn’t want you on that list.
when he first met you back in high school, he didn’t think much of you. you weren’t a special grade, you didn’t have any awesome technique, you were just simply there. maybe you have connections, he thought. because there’s no way someone like you was admitted into tokyo jujutsu high. to this day, he doesn’t know how you did it. maybe you have some super cool talent that you didn’t like showing, maybe you just won over everyone’s hearts and they felt pity for you, he’ll never be able to find out. that’s one of his many regrets.
his other regrets are letting himself grow attached for no reason. no matter what, his eyes had a mind of his own, searching and scanning any room or environment for your figure. he chalks it up to protectiveness, you weren’t strong like he was and he didn’t want to see another comrade die. because thats all you were, a comrade. a comrade. a comrade. he chants this mantra into his mind every morning.
nanami didn’t know how it happened, but one thing led to another and he was always alone with you. comfortable silence was what he loved the most. you two could sit together for hours in a flower field you came across one day, just watching the sky and clouds form random shapes. you liked when they made hearts and little animals. although he always argued that they’re just clouds.
but, clouds almost reminded him of you. free, soft, floating around from place to place, and residing high in the sky. because he knew, no matter what, you were one of the few people who would go to heaven in this sick world, sick society. you belonged in heaven, you looked like an angel, acted like a goddess.
“let’s go to malaysia together.” you told him randomly one day, seeing an ad pop up about a beautiful vacation spot. kuantan. he didn’t take you too seriously. malaysia? out of all places? he didn’t see the hype.
all these thoughts flood his brain when he sees your body, looking lifeless and bloody, next to ijichi. you two have huge stab wounds in your mid-section. however, you have a bit more than your co-part, clear signs of your fight. even when you know you don’t have the upper hand, you won’t hesitate to fight back.
it’s hard as he carries you two, having to make sure ijichi doesn’t fall off his back while simultaneously holding you close to his chest. his heart twists and turns, stomach churning the entirety of the slow walk he does to bring you two back to ieiri. his mind is running rampant, constantly looking down at you. you can’t be dead, he thinks. neither of you two are dead, he can’t see more comrades die.
it’s almost weird to him how his throat tightens, tears stinging at his eyes. you don’t move, head lolling to the side as barely a sign of a breath is escaping your lips. your skin is pale and bruising. he hates it, hates how you look, hates how hurt you are, hates how he wasn’t there to stop it and protect you.
he sets you down first once he reaches shoko, handing the passed out ijichi to her. finally, he kneels down, taking in your appearance. nanami rarely gets mad, at least not seriously. but this time, he’s absolutely furious. silently seething as he breathing gets heavy. his fists clench by his side, nails drawing blood into the skin.
he gets up, no being able to stand how you look. but, he forgets you’re a fighter, forgets that no matter what, you look out for the sorcerers. out for him.
“kento….” you straggle out, hand weakly clutching onto his. you can barely keep your eyelids open. you mutter out the next few words. “…man….blonde……ponytail……s-sword….”
ah, he thinks. that’s his target.
he gulps, simply nodding. but your hand stays clutched onto his. using all your strength, you open your eyes wider, and he hates the tears that form in them. “….come back to me please…..”
he feels like crying with you. but he can’t, not now at least. he kneels down again, bringing the back of your hand up to his lips to press feather light kisses to each knuckle. his other hand gently uses his thumb to wipe your tears, treating you with utmost care. “kuantan,” he murmurs. “when this is all over, i’ll take you.”
you weakly chuckle, more tears falling at this point. “..p-promise..?”
he hesitates, but you notice. “promise.“ he says back, leaning down to give your forehead a kiss, sealing the promise. he places your hand back to your stomach before getting up to leave, not before sparing you one last glance.
and as you watch him leave, you don’t even know that it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, last time he’ll ever see you. because you trust his word, trusted that he’d come back to you.
nanami leaves with a heavy heart, staring death in the face and yet all he can think about is you. there’s many regrets he has.
he broke your guys’ promise, he hopes you won’t stay mad at him.
he won’t be able to take you to kuantan.
he won’t be able to see you, hold you, talk to you.
and finally, he wasn’t able to confess that he loved the simplicity. that he loved you.
he’ll see you again, in heaven and in another life. until then, he’ll watch over you. because nanami kento has always been a patient man.
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httpscomexe · 2 months ago
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No, You Don't
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Day 3 of Kink-Tober - Bondage
Summary: You knew he was crazy for you, but not that crazy.
(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: (Lmk if I missed any) Stalking, implied murder, blood, revolution, pv (Not very long), intruder, drugging, language, cheating, and finally, bondage kink. (I absolutely hate this, but lmk how you guys feel).
Main tags: @cellyx33 @shybluebirdninja
Word Count: 3295 (Find my Kink-Tober list here)
P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.
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He had everything figured out. It was the perfect plan to ask you to Prom. Everything was going to plan, at least on his side. He had already bought some flowers, and he made a poster all by himself (with a little help from Ned), so now all he needed to do was find you, ask you. Tell you his lines, the ones he rehearsed in front of the mirror about a thousand times. He knew exactly where you were right now. As soon as he turned the corner, he knew you would be standing at your locker. But he pauses. His eyes glued on you and…
Flash…?
What were you doing… his hands on your waist, and his lips connected to yours. Peters turns back around, using the wall as his shield.
He thinks about it. He wasn’t sure whether or not it was even true. It made no sense to him, he never expected you to kiss Flash of all people. But he knew he would have to do something about it. Something to ensure you were only his…
“Hey!” You hear his footsteps behind you before he stops in front of you, a huge smile on his face as his body keeps you from walking any further. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Home, Peter. I’ve had a long day.”
“Yea, I heard what happened, I’m sorry.” He steps aside, and starts walking next to you. He’s been rather clingy this week.
“It’s not that big of a deal, why are you apologising?”
“Well I know how bad you wanted to be in the play.”
“Not bad enough to care.”
“Then what’s bothering you?” You.
“I’m just tired, exams really snuck up on us this year.” You throw him a lame excuse, hoping he would just leave you be.
Obviously you didn’t hate him, but you weren’t exactly close to him either. You had no fucking idea who he was until he randomly decided to start popping up behind you in the halls, asking you random questions, or telling you random things about yourself, then the second Flash showed up, he shuts up, and leaves. It was weird, and you didn’t think much of it. You had even told Flash about it, which he wanted to kick Peter's ass, but you easily made him drop the situation, deciding it would be best to ignore it.
“Yea…” His voice goes quiet, and you know Flash is nearby.
“Hey baby…” Flash wraps his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Hey loser.” He nods towards Peter, who offers him a half-witted smile and nod.
“Sup Flash.” He shuffles awkwardly on his feet. “I’ll uh… I’ll catch you later Y/N, nice seeing you.” Peter turns, walking in the opposite direction from the exit.
“He’s so weird.”
“Hey don’t mean!” You smack his arm jokingly, his arm moving to go around your shoulders and press another kiss to your head.
“What? I’m not wrong. You know he’s fucking weird. He follows you everywhere you go.”
“I know… I think he’s just lonely.” You shrug, walking out the door as he holds it open for you.
“I’m still taking you home right?”
“Yes Flashy.”
“And date night tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
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Well shit… You groan, rolling onto your back, letting the outfit you had planned for tonight fall onto the ground for you to pick up later.
It didn’t bother you much that he cancelled the date the first time. Then there was a second time, then a third, and this was the fourth time. You were starting to get annoyed. It was a different excuse every time. There was first studying for an exam, he didn’t even show up to school the next day for the exam, then there was his dad in the hospital for breaking his arm, the next day you saw pictures on his facebook of him playing golf, last time is was his car broke down, and he didn’t want you driving because your car was in the shop, and now this.
Of course, you didn’t believe him. His mother always got back from work at 7PM, and the date was planned for 8. Also, you knew there was Saturday school today because your bestfriends little brother went there every Saturday. You are honestly debating just ending the relationship.
But he’s so sweet. You think to yourself, turning onto your side and hugging a pillow as you keep yourself from crying over some stupid boy. You’d been with him for three years now, and he wasn’t such a jerk in the beginning.
When you first started dating, he would show up randomly at your house while you were in your pyjamas and minion slippers eating pizza for breakfast, a beautiful set of flowers in his hands, a new one every week to replace the old ones. Now he doesn’t even buy you water. You knew something was up when he stopped throwing his arm over your shoulders in public. He’s only been doing it since Peter has been hanging around you.
Peter.
God he was annoying. Where did he even come from? You were just chilling in the halls looking through your locker like it was a fridge and some random snack would eventually appear, then he was there, with that stupid smile on his face that made him look like the most innocent puppy, the most adorable stupid smile, and all he said was ‘hi.’ before awkwardly walking away, you could swear he was sweating bullets.
You knew he liked you. He couldn’t possibly make it more obvious. With his daily goodmorning texts that you’ve only responded to about 3 times in the past two months, and nightly goodnight texts, and the three times a week good afternoon text when he wakes up late. You haven’t even put his name as a contact in your phone, you know that would only piss off Flash when he does his weekly “Do you have any boys in your contacts?” check every Monday.
Wow.
You lie there, staring at the wall.
How stupid were you? You were in one of the most toxic and un-trustworthy relationships possible and you’re only just now noticing it?
You put your all into Flash, making sure he was okay every second of the day, always the one planning days out. You were even expected to pay for the dinner tonight. Stupid considering he was the rich one in a big house.
You pick up your phone to check his location, he was home, and his little brother was at school. His parents were working.
You sigh. His little brother is at school. A bing comes from your phone, your friends name popping up as a notification: Hey, still going out with Flash tonight?
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You toss your phone to the foot of the bed and sit up, not caring when it bounces off the mattress and falls to the floor and under the bed. That piece of shit. He was cheating on you. It was obvious, and you’ve deflected that thought a thousand times, you’ve never wanted to believe it, so hearing it was enough for the waterworks to break, thanking God you were home alone so you could cry as loud as you want, which you do.
Leaning back against your headboard, your hands move to your eyes as tears begin to fall down your cheeks, an occasional sob coming from your throat as you stand up. You were so fucking done. You take some jewellery from your desk, necklaces and bracelets he had bought you when you first started dating, and you throw it into a bag, then you storm over to your wardrobe and you find two hoodies that you had borrowed from you, tossing those next to the little plastic bag, your tears still falling from your eyes and clouding your vision as you curse profanities and complain about what’s happened. Then you freeze.
Your parents weren’t supposed to be home, but the sound of the floor creaking just outside of your room has your heart stopped. You were never a fan of being home alone, making every little sound scare the shit out of you.
But this wasn’t just a little sound. It was the creak of the floor, just a few inches from your door on the right most piece of wood that had made the sound, and that only happens when it’s been walked on. So yea, you were scared, and confused. Someone was outside your door.
“Layla?” You shout out, thinking maybe your sister got home from school early, but there’s no response. “Mom…?” Your voice begins shaking, and you reach back inside of your wardrobe, gripping the neck of a metal bat before approaching your door. “Is that you Hank?” You call another name, your dog's name, then your heart skips as you head quick heavy steps running down the hallway, and back down the stairs. “Alexa, lock the front door!” You shout, not sure why. You want them to leave, but you just lock the door and you dart down the stairs, following the sound of your dogs growling. You turn the corner and there Hank was, his hair standing on his back and his ears pinned to the back of his head. He was a big dog, a German Shepherd with a damned strong bite force. Something your moms ex found out the hard way. But Hank wouldn’t attack without a command, so he stood there, blocking the exit as he stared up and the man dressed in all black, a hoodie over his head. “Who are you?” You shout, gripping the bat harder as you prepare to help your dog fuck this dude up.
“I uh… I don’t want any trouble. I tried knocking but you didn’t answer, and the door was unlocked.” It was true, your mom never locked the door behind her when she left to work.
“So you think it’s okay to just walk in?” Your voice is stern, and you approach him, his eyes landing on your bat “Hank, go lie down, good boy.” You tell your dog, and he hides his teeth before leaving the door, giving the man a little side eye before walking away.
“I don’t want any trouble, I was just worried…” His voice cracks mid sentence, and you swear you recognised the voice. “P-Peter…?” He’s silent as he drops his hands and stares at you. He looks back at where your dog was standing before removing his hoodie. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?” You shout as he walks towards you.
“You weren’t answering me texts, and they weren’t going through. I was worried.”
“So you come into my home uninvited?” He doesn’t say anything again, and his eyes drift down to the metal bat in your hand, which you keep a nice grip on.
“I’m sorry…”
“Get out.” You tell him, pointing towards the door he came in through.
“I just wanted to talk.”
“Well I don’t, get out.”
“I have a gift for you.” Of course he did.
“Look, I get you’re trying to be friendly, but I have a boyfriend, Peter.”
“No, you don’t.” His voice lowers, almost sinisterly as he approaches you, a little too close for comfort as you take a single step back. “Can we go to your room? Your dog is…” He turns around, his eyes landing on the dog who’s cautiously watching him. “A little paranoid.”
You think about it for a moment before sighing. What harm could he possibly do? You wonder, then turn towards the stairs as you lead him up to your room, the rightmost piece of wood creaking under your weight, and he closes the door behind him for you.
“What’s in it?”
“It’s a surprise, but do you have a restroom I could use first?” He asks, and you look him up and down, not sure you trusted him enough to even use his restroom, and you notice his gloves.
“Yea, it's over there.” You nod your head towards a closed door in your room, and he goes into it quickly after he places the box with a little pink bow on your desk.
What could he have possibly gotten you? You trail your fingers over the little pink bow on the white box, and curiosity gets the best of you, your index finger and thumb pulling open the bow, and then you open the box. The item inside is covered by black feathers, so you push them aside, and the second your eyes catch what's in the box, you’re horrified. An immediate sick feeling bubbling up through your stomach as you cover your mouth and involuntarily gag. That was a fucking finger. You tell yourself, sickened, but it wasn’t the worst part. The promise ring on the finger was Flashes. It was a little cold band, adorned with a little pink heart, and cute diamonds curling around the band itself. You had the same one on your ring finger.
You had to get the fuck out of there. You tell yourself, but your hand pauses just before you touch the door handle, which was covered in some sort of white shit. Spider webs? You tilt your head in question. Your phone. Where was your phone? You quickly make your way to your bed, tossing the sheets around in search of your phone, then the bathroom door opens. Peter stepped out, his hoodie off in place of a grey shirt you’ve seen him wear often, but it never had the dark stains on the front that it did now, and his presence immediately makes you back away from your bed, and to the other side of the room to create distance.
“I said it was a surprise.” He sighs, tossing his hoodie to the floor before reaching up and removing his shirt, leaving his chest naked. He was fucking built.
“You need to leave, Peter.” Your voice shakes, but it’s confident.
“Come on now, he was cheating on you. He deserved it.” His voice lowers as he stalks towards you, only stopping when your back hits a wall. You hear your phone buzz, and behind him you see the screen light up with a text from under your bed. You had dropped it earlier.
“Peter-”
“Shh…” He shushes you, pushing his lower body against you, still dressed in your pyjamas. “You deserve so much better than him.”
“Peter, leave. Now.” You whisper, your intent was to shout, but you can’t seem to with his proximity. It made you nervous.
“I just wanna touch you…” He tells you, one of his hands reaching to gently touch your waist.
“This is your last warning.” He chuckles, he thinks you’re joking. Fine. You tell yourself. I warned you. Your knee comes up, striking him in his stomach and he groans and curls over in pain as you rush over to your bed, your fingers an inch away before some sort of white string, the same on the handle of your door, shoots out and grabs your phone, looking back, it was now in his hand, the little white web connected to it.
“I tried to do this the easy way.” He squeezes your phone, and it crushes in his hands. “But I’m done waiting.” He growls, moving back towards you as you try to crawl away, but he grabs your ankles and yanks you back before reaching down and pulling you up by your hair. “You don’t want to behave? Fine.” He tosses you onto the bed, moving you and manhandling you with his strength as he moves you to take off your shorts and top, leaving you in your red lace set. “See how pretty you are? Fuck.” He groans a little before bending down, leaning to lick a place between your thighs.
“Peter!” You shout, attempting to back away, but his grip moves to tighten on your waist.
“Just stay still…” His voice shakes with urgency, “I need to have you, I can’t wait any fucking longer…” He groans, pulling you close and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist before pushing his lips to yours, your hands instinctively pushing him away, but his hand just moves up, wrapping around your throat to keep you close, and you continue batting at him, but he seems locked onto you. “Stop fucking fighting me…” His voice shakes more, he’s desperate, you realise as he starts to hump you, your centre still covered by your thin lace panties, you hated to admit it, but it was turning you on. “Take these off…” He demands, but begins to do it himself, leaning back to hook his fingers through the lace of your panties before tugging them down your thighs, your hands swatting at him the entire time. “That's enough…” He growls, lifting you by your thighs as he throws you further back onto the bed, then he grabs your wrists and pins them against the bed frame.
“Fuck- Peter-!” Suddenly, your mouth is covered by more of the webbing as it shoots from a device on his wrist, then your wrists are also covered by the thick webbing, making it impossible to move your arms at all.
“Just stay still… We both need this.” You groan, the sound stifled by the webbing on your face. “You’ll love me when you feel how much better I am than him…” He reaches down and undoes his jeans, the sound of his zipper seeming to cloud your head before he slides the jeans down with his boxers, his cock springing free from it’s confinement, and he gives it a few strokes before inching closer to you, the sound behind the webbing on your face becoming more desperate. “God girl, staying so still…” He presses a kiss to your head as he lines his cock up with your pussy, seemingly admiring it as he strokes his dick. “Such a pretty pussy…” He whispers against your ear, then he slowly begins to slide his cock inside of you, not wasting any time in pumping in and out of you as he fills you perfectly. “Feels so good…” He groans, but it turns into a moan as you feel him already leaking inside of you. That was fast. You look him in the eyes as he pulls out faster than he’d gotten inside of you, his eyes meeting yours. “Fuck I’m sorry… You just feel so fucking good…” He groans, leaning down to press kisses to your throat and down your collar bone, and you’re frozen in fear, and in second hand embarrassment.
He reaches up, and tears the string off of your mouth, a whine coming from your lips as it painfully pulls on your skin, and you part your lips, short breaths leaving your throat as you sit with him between your legs, not sure what to do.
“I’m sorry baby I-”
“Get the fuck off of me…”
“Don’t talk to me like that…” He warns, pulling his pants back up with his boxers before reaching into his back pocket.
“I said get the fuck off of me Peter-” Your voice catches in your breath as he holds two little capsules in his hands, tearing one of the plastic things open with his teeth before attaching the needle to the bottle in his other hand.
Oh shit, oh shit.
“Won’t be such a smart mouth after this, will you?” He takes the lid off the needle with his teeth, then sticks it into the side of your neck, making you yelp, and of everything that’s happened today, that had to be the worst part.
 You fucking hated needles.
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boyfhee · 5 months ago
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﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤfever dreamㅤ...ㅤ( 제이 )
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꒰ ✉️ ꒱ where jay reckons that the stars aren’t worth watching, and so do you.
ㅤㅤ﹙1509﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, suggestive, bsf2lㅤㅤwarnings kissing / making out, drinking, awk ending probsㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ cooked this up on the way to the doctor's :/ happy reading, pls rb and leave feedback >_< iNDEX
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being friends with jay comes with surprises. 
just like the one in front of you— a whole camping scene prepared in front of you even though it’s on the huge open balcony of his house. a tent placed right where the potted plant used to be, decorated with fairy lights connected to an extension board. you don’t miss the amount of pillows inside, your heart swelling up at how warm everything looks, especially at the sight of the endearing smile on his face as he brings in another blanket. 
“i didn’t know you were serious about this,” you could only manage to whisper a few words out of amusement, earning a playful huff in response. 
“of course, i was. what do you even take me for?” you stand still as he brings the snacks from the kitchen— all your favourites. 
all because you mentioned wanting to stay up all night stargazing, and then witnessing the sunrise. it was abrupt, just something said out of the blue when sunghoon asked what you’ll be doing during the summer breaks. you hadn’t enough finished dreaming about it, and jay was already in front of you, turning it into a reality.
he turns to ask you something before noticing your glistening eyes, the tear rolling down your cheek which brings him at a loss of words, the whole scene tugging his heartstrings a little painfully. it isn’t until you notice his surprise that a soft chuckle falls off your lips, your voice faltering for a moment. “i’m sorry, i just—”
“hey, don’t be embarrassed,” and jay knows how you get emotional so easily. he finds it endearing, your tears leaving a twinge of sadness in his chest. he reaches out instinctively, gently tugging strands of hair behind your ears. “i think it’s sweet how easily you are moved,”
you almost freeze at his actions, hearing your heart beats reverberating through your ears, afraid he would hear them too. it’s cinematic how time seems to stop when you look in his eyes— and he thinks you look impossibly breathtaking under moonlight with beads of tears resting on your eyelashes. 
you almost feel your eyes darting to his lips, almost, before you break away from the contact and try to calm your nerves. you grab two cans of beer from the tray kept aside, passing one to him. “let’s make a toast,”
he laughs softly, the sound almost a relief from the sombre mood that had settled between you two. he gladly takes the can and pops it open, taking a sip from his beer can and eyeing you as you take yours. “you’re emotional and lightweight. what a deal,”
all it takes is a playful slap on his arm for you to settle between the pillows and blankets, grabbing a packet of chips. you both had agreed on the ‘no phone’ condition, leaving your devices somewhere in the living room. you didn’t have time for your phone anyway, having your hands full with the opportunity to look at the stars, and jay.
you barely finish a can before he’s reaching out for another, already dazed by the drink messing with his neurotransmitters. this usually never happens, even after two and a half bottles of soju. today, he’s tripping down the tipsy lane, just nodding and smiling aimlessly as you talk and talk— and he thinks to himself how lacklustre the stars look compared to you, and the way the soft yellow glow of fairy lights illuminates every single feature of yours that makes him swoon. 
the stars aren’t even worth watching.  
he takes another swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving your face, just like your gaze that refuses to leave the stars. he studies you for a few seconds, enjoying the blissful silence between you two. you are the one with less tolerance between him and you, but today jay is feeling the buzz of alcohol blurring his conscience. “you really are a sight, you know that?”
it doesn’t dawn upon you how close his face was until you turn to look at him. he takes in your reaction, the way your eyes widen. your shyness only emboldens him further, making him lean even closer, face now mere inches away from yours. he feels the subtle scent of your perfume tingling his senses, driving him crazier than you have already done. 
he reaches one hand to cup your face tenderly, his thumb lingering a little too close to your lips. it sends a shiver down your spine, a sensation that makes it hard for you to think straight. he notices the way your lips part ever so slightly, although not a single word coming out of your lips. “so beautiful,” 
sobriety wouldn’t have let him cruise this far, nothing would’ve convinced jay to act upon his feelings, except maybe a little bit of liquid courage that makes him bolder than usual. his gaze remains fixed on you, his silence giving you an excuse to back down from whatever this could lead to, eyes tracing every single feature on your face. and when you don’t, he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin. “stop me before i lose myself to you, yn,” 
his voice is a heady mix of desperation and desire, as if pleading for you to drive him out of whatever spell you’ve done on him. he watches you intently, waiting for you to push him away, to stop him before he does something he might regret, but your silence only fuels his desires. he moves his hand down to your chin, tilting your face up slightly, thumb gently tracing your lower lip. his gaze locks into yours yet again— an action that sends your heart racing a thousand miles, unbeknownst to him, faster than it was already beating. “say something, please,”
you almost melt under his touch, under his pretty voice and a gaze admiring you as if you put the stars in the sky. it feels like a fever dream to be this close to him, stuff that your highschool self used to daydream about. you would go to bed, giggling about the slightest possibility of him giving you flowers on valentines, something your friend indulged you into. it was a dream, wanting to be with someone who embodied perfection, and yet again, jay was in front of you, making it come true even before you had finished dreaming. 
so, you just stay quiet for a few more seconds that feel like hours on empty before whispering against his lips. “kiss me,”
a pause, his breath catching up in his throat. 
jay wasn’t expecting you to initiate it, it felt like he was going to get a heart attack. hell worse, if he’s starting to hear things due to alcohol. however, your eyes tell a whole different story with the way they’re taking in every single part of him, begging him to do something. he doesn’t hesitate— with a swift, fluid movement, he closes the small distance between you two, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. 
it’s like a need, the way every part of him years for you. the way flesh wants to knit itself over a wound. as if he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs. his lips refuse to leave yours, hands sliding down your body to pull you onto his lap. he deepens the kiss, letting his free hand down to the small of your back to pull you even closer. he feels himself slipping out of his sanity when your fingers get tangled in his hair, tugging onto them ever so slightly. 
“you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, lips trailing kisses down your neck and leaving faint marks in their wake, his nose brushing softly against your skin that makes you sigh in bliss. he stops abruptly, breathing erratically against your neck before looking up at you. he takes in your appearance, your flushed look with hair a bit dishevelled. you looked like a mess, and unbelievably his. “you’re so beautiful,”
you smile at his words, feeling your face heat up even more than it already has. this has to be a fever dream, you tell yourself, and then cup his face ever so gently. “you should kiss me again,”
he smiles. “you always order me around,”
“kiss me.”
“are you sure?” he murmurs, lips curved into a teasing grin as he leans in even closer with his forehead against yours. “i’m really bad at keeping my hands to my—”
and then you grab the back of his neck, yanking him towards your lips and pulling him into a chaste kiss. you feel him smile into the kiss, his hands resting on your sides as they pull you closer than possible. soft giggles erupt in between, sweet nothings shared between quick pecks oozing with admiration, and ‘i love you’ spun in the air and you realise that the stars aren’t even worth watching, for you have yours right in front of you.
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hellhazbinstuck · 6 months ago
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I wanted to ask for wlw verosika imagine. Basically the reader was w verosika in rehab and they had something going on but nothing ever happened until they randomly find each other in a bar. The reader would think verosika doesn't remember abt her but they would end up tangled in the bar's bathroom
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You had gotten out of rehab months ago, and right now, you were throwing some of that time away at a bar. You were talking to a cute girl, and you could feel it going nowhere. Cute was no substitute for Veronica.
That sounds really fucking shallow. Normally, you wouldn't compare someone you'd just met to a pop star of all people. But Verosika was.... different. You met her at the shitty rehab you went to, and you thought you hit it off pretty well. You gave her your number when she got early, already a long shot, and she never used it.
"I'm sorry, I have to use the restroom." You told the girl sitting next to you before you booked it to a stall in the ladies' room. You did have to go, but mostly, you were just trying to dodge the girl and make sure nothing would go any further.
After about fifteen minutes, you left the restroom. On your way to get another drink, you ran into someone.
"Oh my God, I'm so- Verosika?" The embarrassment in your face went away when you realized it was her. "I haven't seen you in a while." You blushed, but you were clearly sad. "What are you doing here?"
She put an arm around you. "I've been looking for you for a while. I came here because you mentioned this bar in rehab, and I've been trying to find you for months ever since your phone disappeared." She pulled a phone out of her purse. " I believe this is yours. "
You slowly took the phone while looking up at her. "I thought you forgot about me. I thought I was too boring and-" She cut you off with a deep kiss. "You're too fantastic and beautiful to forget about. You're the one person I've made a connection with who didn't see me as a pop star first instead of who I am."
She picked you up, making your legs wrap around your waist, and kissed you again. "Do you wanna take this to the bathroom? I think we've both been way too deprived of each other. " You responded by kissing her.
She set you on the counter and kicked every stall door to make sure nobody could watch you. "Where were we?" She said, stroking the inside of your thigh. You decided to be forward and started unzipping your dress before she stopped you. "Let me do all of that Y/N"
Verosika started unzipping your dress, her lips practically latched to your neck, causing your moans to echo off the bathroom walls. "No bra? That's good for me." She immediately put one of your ripples in her mouth, making you moan almost instantly. "Fuck I missed how responsive you are." She growled in your ear as her hands went under your dress and ripped your panties off.
She started rubbing circles on your clit, making your legs shake and your hands let go of the counter. She put three fingers in your pussy and tried to start off slowly. "P-please, go faster. I need it so badly!"
"Fuck, I've missed everything about you baby. I'm not letting you go again." Her fingers moved even faster, and she took your clit into her mouth. She started off licking in slow circles and increasing her speed almost by the second.
She smirked against your clit as your moans got louder and your walls tightened around her fingers. "Verosika! Fuck, mommy can I cum?!" She smirked against your clit, you always know how to be the sweetest. "Yes, baby."
She kissed you, moving her fingers even faster. "F-fuck! Mommy! Please!" You moaned out. Your legs began shaking as you came all over her fingers.
Verosika licked everything off of her fingers before putting you back in your dress and putting your ripped panties in her purse.
She picked you up bridal style and carried you to her limo. Your legs always gave out after she fucked you, so she wasn't gonna make you walk. "Let's go home. Fuck, I've missed you."
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shybluebirdninja · 1 month ago
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FADED DAYS: PART 2
Summary: In a bleak world where Logan has lost his purpose, an unexpected connection with his nurse brings a spark of humanity back into his fading life as an Uber driver.
Pairing             : Uber-Driver!Logan Howlett x Nurse!Fem-reader
Genre              : Heavy Angst
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You swipe the screen to clock out from your shift, feeling the heavy pull of exhaustion in your bones. It was one of those nights—sick patients, endless charts, and a doctor who looked at you like you’d just ruined his life every time you handed him a pen. You just want to go home, crawl under the covers, and sleep for a decade.
But the second you tap the Uber app, you see it.
Your driver: Logan. Estimated arrival: 4 minutes.
“Oh, hell no.”
You vaguely remember the grumpy old guy from last time, the one who looked like he was one minor inconvenience away from driving the car straight off a cliff. You sigh, rubbing your temples. The last thing you need is another ride full of awkward silences and death glares.
His car pulls up, same as before, creaking to a stop like it’s gasping for its last breath. You get in and immediately regret it. It smells faintly of...is that whiskey? And maybe motor oil? You’re not even sure anymore.
“Hey,” you say as you settle in. “Fancy seeing you again.”
“Yeah, lucky me,” he grunts, his voice sounding like it’s been dragged over sandpaper. No eye contact, just the same stoic stare out the windshield. The engine groans, and you wonder if the car’s going to make it through the ride—or if the driver will, for that matter.
The silence stretches out like an awkward third wheel in the backseat. You figure you might as well try to lighten the mood.
“So, Uber driver, huh? Is this, like, your dream job?” You flash a grin, hoping for at least a chuckle.
“Pays the bills,” he mutters. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Ouch. Guess humor isn’t his thing. Still, you push on.
“I dunno, man. You don’t really scream 'people person' to me. No offense, but I thought Uber drivers were supposed to be...uh, friendlier.”
He snorts. “I ain't here to be your friend.”
“Clearly,” you mumble under your breath. “Just trying to make conversation.”
Another snort, this one a little more amused, but still tinged with that world-weary, grumpy-old-man vibe. You’re not sure whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. He’s like the human version of a stray dog—ragged, angry, but you know deep down he’s just tired of being kicked around.
The car lurches forward as he merges onto the freeway, and you notice the deep lines on his hands again. The knuckles, those strange scars. You’ve seen your fair share of battle wounds in the hospital, but his look different. Old. Like he’s lived through something worse than just a bad day at work.
“Rough shift?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice is still gruff, but there’s something softer beneath it. Not exactly sympathy, but...close enough.
“Yeah,” you admit. “You could say that.”
He grunts again. “I’ve had worse.”
“Yeah?” You glance at him, eyebrow raised. “Like what?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but his grip on the wheel tightens. For a second, you think you’ve hit a nerve, but then he shrugs. “Nothing you’d believe.”
“Try me.”
There’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he’s going to brush you off. But then he glances at you, just for a split second. His eyes are tired, so tired. “You ever been shot six times in the chest?”
Your eyes widen. “Uh…no?”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.”
You blink, unsure if he’s serious. Then he coughs—this raspy, painful sound—and you can’t help but laugh. It’s ridiculous. The whole situation is ridiculous. This grumpy, near-dead Uber driver who claims he’s been shot six times and lived to tell the tale.
“You’re kidding, right?” you ask, half-expecting him to say it’s a joke.
“Nope,” he says, popping the p in the most deadpan way possible. “Still hurts when it rains.”
There’s a beat of silence before you both laugh, his cough mingling with the sound. It’s not exactly a light-hearted moment, but it’s…something.
But as you look at him, the laughter fades. You see the deep, hollow weariness in his eyes again. The kind that no joke can really erase. And something tugs at your chest—a weird mix of sympathy and sadness.
You shake your head, changing the subject. “So, Uber wasn’t your first gig, huh? What’d you do before?”
“Stuff,” he says, evasively.
“Stuff? Very specific.”
“Stuff that ain’t your concern.” His tone is final, but there’s no malice in it. Just the same wall of grumpiness he’s clearly used to hiding behind.
When he pulls up to your place, you linger in the car for a second, wondering if you should say something more. Something...human. But instead, you just glance over at him one last time.
“Take care of yourself, Logan.”
For the first time, his eyes flick up to meet yours, and you swear there’s a flicker of something behind that grizzled exterior.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “You too.”
You step out, closing the door softly behind you. The car lingers for a moment, like he’s thinking about something. Then, with a groan of the engine, he’s gone, disappearing into the night.
As you walk up to your apartment, you can’t help but smile. Who knew a grumpy old Uber driver could leave you feeling this weird mix of sadness and warmth?
You’ll probably see him again. Something tells you he’ll be around.
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soshirohoshinasimp · 21 days ago
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"Everyone's falling in love and I'm falling behind"
It always starts the same way: I watch it happen, and with each passing moment, the ache in my chest grows sharper, like a constant pressure I can't shake.
Another group chat. Another flood of photos, captions, and text updates from my friends. Another one of them sharing that they’ve met someone special, or that they've been on a date, or that they’re "officially in a relationship." The words blur together, the images become a haze of happy faces, intertwined hands, and promises of forever, while I sit here staring at my screen, feeling like everyone is moving forward, and I’m the only one standing still.
I’m happy for them, of course. I tell them I am. I send my congratulations, my emojis, do my best to sound genuinely thrilled for their happiness. But inside, there’s a quiet, gnawing feeling—that something is slowly being chipped away, like I’m stuck in the same place while the rest of the world keeps running.
It’s not that I don’t try. I fall in love easily—maybe too easily. It’s one of those things I can’t control. A smile, a laugh, the way someone’s eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, and I’m hooked. I imagine all the little things before I even know their last name—walks in the park, late-night conversations, whispered secrets in the dark. I let myself dream about everything that could be, even though I’m the only one dreaming.
The problem isn’t that I fall too quickly. The problem is that no one ever falls in love with me.
I try not to think about it. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter. But every time another picture of a happy couple pops up, or the group chat explodes with excited updates about how “everything just feels right,” I can’t help but wonder: Why not me?
It’s as if I’m watching from the outside, peering through a foggy window at a life I’ll never belong to. Everyone else has found their someone, their partner, their “person,” while I stand alone at the edge of the crowd, half-smiling, pretending I’m fine, even when it feels like I’m not.
The worst part is that no one means to hurt me. They don’t know how their joy, their shared moments of connection, make me feel like I’m missing something I’ll never find. It’s like they’re all part of a club I can’t seem to get into, no matter how hard I try.
There are times when I catch myself getting too attached—when I start to like someone, a friend, a coworker, maybe just someone who’s kind to me. For a moment, I let myself believe that maybe this time, it’ll be different. This time, maybe they’ll see me the way I see them. But every time, I make the mistake of getting too close, of caring too much, I’m reminded that the love I’m offering isn’t what they want. It’s never what they want.
It’s a strange kind of loneliness, this quiet ache. It’s not loud or dramatic. It’s not a storm—it’s more like a slow drip, a constant reminder that I’m not enough. Not enough to be loved. Not enough to be chosen. Just... not enough.
And still, I hope. Still, I fall again.
I can’t stop myself from falling in love with the idea of love. Even when I know it’s unlikely. Even when I see the signs, when I recognize the patterns. Even when I know I’ll probably get hurt again.
I tell myself it’s okay. I tell myself that I don’t need anyone to complete me. That one day, it’ll happen, that one day, I’ll find someone who looks at me the way I look at them. But with every relationship that starts without me, with every “I’m so in love” post I scroll past, that hope starts to feel more like a dying ember, flickering weaker and weaker until it barely gives off any warmth at all.
Everyone’s falling in love, and I’m falling behind.
I tell myself I’m fine. That I’m strong. That I don’t need anyone else to feel whole. And in the rare moments when the ache doesn’t feel so sharp, I almost believe it. But then another couple announces their engagement, or another friend talks about how perfect their date was, and the ache comes back. A little sharper. A little louder.
I’m happy for them, of course. I’ll always be happy for them. But as I sit there, scrolling through their pictures, their stories, their dreams, I can’t help but wonder: When will it be my turn?
Is it too much to ask for, for a person to give me the love I give out tenfold? Or am i just stuck in my own delusions as usual.
But for now, I’m just waiting. And everyone else is falling in love.
And I’m falling behind.
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moralesispunk · 2 months ago
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Day 1 - Temperature Play
Ghost Hunter Joel Miller x Ghost Reader
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warnings: gender neutral; reader is a ghost, blank slate (other than being a ghost…), teasing, temperature play (also involving wax play), handjob (really this is 2 from this days prompt list)
word count: 1.5k
Full Kinktober list here (list by @absurdthirst )
It was not unusual for Joel to feel uneasy as he worked. In fact, the prickling at the base of his skull was often what kept him alive.
It was a sixth sense, a higher power than told him to watch out.
He has had that feeling since he walked into this house. Floorboards creaking under his careful footing, a light flickering out the corner of his eye despite his knowing electricity has been turned off from this house for years, a cool chill that began to seep to his very bones. He tried to shake it off, to continue stalking further into the house, to where sightings of the ghost had been.
“Second floor window,” the man - a new client from across the street - had muttered, suppressing a shiver. “It’s always at that window.” His shaking finger had pointed towards the window Joel finds himself heading towards.
He can feel it - you - watching as he climbs the stairs. Curious and hiding, like a face peeking between the bannister he can’t quite make out. It’s like that every time he comes back to this house, first once a year, then every few months. It takes a while for you to show yourself to Joel, but never enough for him to get rid of your spirit that continues to haunt this place.
Your spirit is too connected to the very soul of this house, and nothing and no-one can make you leave, though not through lack of trying. Every few months now a new neighbour pops up and calls him to deal with the “problem”, thinking this time it will work.
A cold wind caresses the back of his neck - a tease - and he tries not to react. He stops at the top of the stairs and keeps his head bent low as he slips a bag from his shoulder and begins to unpack.
The wind brushes against him again, this time at the front of his neck. He forces his mind to not play tricks on him, repeating of the wind, the wind, the wind, inside his head, but there is no denying that the touch begins to feel like soft fingers brushing against his rough skin.
Across his cheek, over the shell of his ear, along the curve of his jaw. He dips his head closer to his chest, shying from the touch.
“You might as well make this easy for both of us,” Joel says, lighting a candle and kneeling to place it on the staircase landing beneath the window. “Why don’t you be a good little ghost and come out of hiding.”
A harsher wind comes, not like the touches from before, and blows the candle out.
He doesn’t react, not other than the way his jaw ticks to the side for the barest hint of a second before he tries lighting the candle again. He keeps quiet until the circle of candles has been formed, small tea-lights with two larger ones facing North and South. Joel sits, crossing his legs, and focuses on the flickering flames.
“This is No.” He points to the one furthest from him. “This is Yes.” He points to the candle in front of his crossed legs. “Do you understand?”
The candle in front of him flickers and he nods.
“Do you know who I am?” He asks.
Yes.
“Do you know who you are?”
Yes.
“Do you remember me?” He tries to stop the desperation from crawling into his words.
A pause, a brush of the cool wind down his throat. Yes.
“Are you going to leave?”
The cool wind leaves his neck, turning to extinguish the No candle.
Joel sighs, out of relief or tiredness he’s not sure.
“The neighbours are complaining, you know.”
A ticklish touch runs down his forearm and he huffs a laugh.
“If you keep acting up they’ll keeping calling me to get rid of you.”
The touch stops on his forearm, as though fingers are wrapping around his wrist.
“Is that it, then?” A slow upwards tilt curves at the corner of his mouth. “You looking for excuses to bring me back?”
A warning squeeze, then another gentle caress. It moves up his arm, along his shoulders, fingers dipping between the buttons of his shirt. It moves down, running along the waistband of his jeans. Another tease.
“Nu-uh.” He rests his weight back onto his palms, stretching away from the touch. “Not till I see you.”
There is a pause. Sometimes nothing comes, and then he will stay a while and talk until the candles burn low and he leaves again. Other times, like now, a small flicker will appear.
It’s not as strong as it had been that first time, a near perfect resemblance to what you had looked like before death, but it eventually comes. It’s a translucent imagine of who you had been, all there but the candles from behind you flickering through.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Your smile is nervous, a tilt to your head. Hi Joel, your mouth moves around the words but no sound comes out.
He jerks his chin, letting you know to continue. For a second you disappear completely, then your touch returns from behind him, arms locking him into place as your fingers begin their travel down towards the buckle of his jeans.
The press of your finger tips feels like ice against his bare skin as they unbuckle his belt, pulling down his zip and boxers. The cold touch makes his skin raise in goosebumps, his cock slowly hardening with it. Your touch moves back and forward, down towards the inside of his thighs, back up and along his tensing abs. Even despite the layers he wears, he can’t stop how he shivers at the touch.
He’s completely hard now, his cock pressing up against the gentle curve of his stomach, but you don’t touch him there yet. His jaw clenches, head titling back and throat bobbing as he tries to strain a glance towards you. He finds you smiling, teeth biting at your bottom lip, and he grins.
“Teasing me now?”
You shrug, then with a gentle touch on his shoulder you push him to lie on his back. You hold your hand up to his face, and despite the fact he can see you through it, he closes his eyes, knowing what you want.
He is rewarded with the touch returning, the cold brush against his skin that makes him groan. It travels across his hip bones, down the crease of his thigh, dangerously close to where he needs you most but never quite touching. He grinds his hips upwards towards your touch, but you avoid him, disappearing for a second before it returns dragging down his collarbones, towards his nipples that are twisted and squeezed.
His breath catches, back arching off the floor both away from and towards the touch.
“Jesus-fuck,” he gasps through clenched teeth.
He knows he doesn’t, but he swears he can hear your laugh in response.
Your touch drags back down his chest and stomach, towards his leaking cock. A soft grip at the base, a flicker of light from behind his closed lids that has him opening his eyes for a moment. There you kneel between his parted thighs, a small line creasing between your brows deep in thought. He closes them quickly again, not to be caught, but soon with a splash of something hot against the base of him he can’t stop the way they open again.
A candle drips down close to him, wax melting and then cooling against his skin. Your head tilts, then you start to work him slowly.
His eyes flicker closed, a low moan tumbling from the back of his throat. You play with that balance - the cold of your touch and the heat of the candle - your hand working him up and down as you do. He swears he’s never felt anything this good before, the vein in his neck popping as he lifts a hand to bite down on his fist as you continue to work him.
Slow then fast, hot then cold; he doesn’t know if he is speeding towards the edge of being pulled back from it. His teeth leave marks in his rough skin, his other palm lying flat on the floor in an attempt to ground himself. His back arches again, his legs shake, he can’t stop the tumble of words leaving his mouth - a mix of oh fuck, and more, and please.
Soon he is coming, making a mess on his stomach. His panting breaths echo around the hallway, the room slowly coming back into focus when the touch squeezes, then drops altogether.
Joel only has a second to be disappointed before he feels the caress touch his cheek, small kisses pressing up to his hairline. It was the way you had done when you had been alive, featherlight kisses across his face to wake him up for his shift, warm skin pressing against his. Your voice rough with sleep and whispering sweet nothings in his ear before slipping under the covers.
Now where there was warmth there is cold; where there had been life there is death.
Life and death, in life and death. Joel always took his vows seriously.
He sits up and packs the bag up slowly, leaving one candle lit and moving it towards the window.
“Be good,” he says. “One day they might call a hunter better than me.”
The wind whips the candle, flickering in panic.
“No, don’t worry.” He begins his trek back down the stairs, walls blank where there had once been photograph frames from your life together. “I won’t let them take you away from me, sweetheart.”
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sc0tters · 10 months ago
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Home | Nathan Mackinnon
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summary: a lot has happened in your life but your favourite moments are with nate, so why did things go so badly?
request: yes/no
warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of drinking.
word count: 4.12k
authors note: this was some purely self indulgent angst icl because after the all star break I'm obsessed with this man so that is why it is my first time writing for him. This took me two days though so I feel like we can justify the addiction of this fic to the completed works!
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Life as Sidney Crosby’s younger sister was indescribable.
Nathan had been in your life for as long as you could remember. He came in and out of it given that his friendship had always been with your older brother Sidney. The boys went from role model and fan to best friends and you grew so used to seeing Nate that you couldn’t remember what life was like before him even if it was only a few years ago. 
Sid was a great older brother, probably the best your could have asked for. But as he would send these unnecessary glares in any guys direction the moment the dared to look at you. It was clear that if it wasn’t your last name stopping you from getting a date, it would be your brother instead. 
Cole Harbour was a place you fell in love with. It was always connected with the warmth that came with summer. Those days that left you tanning on the porch or laughing on the boat as the ten year age gap between you and Sid turned to nothing. Every memory that was connected to the lake house only ever had joy with it. You even found yourself attaching to the moments you had with Nate. 
He was the only man, the only person who treated you like you. To Nate you were only ever y/n, never Sidney’s younger sister. So it was no surprise that during your time getting to know Nate you did end up falling for him. 
It was what you thought your best kept secret was. Your love for him was something that you couldn’t explain. He had you feeling dizzy from the mere way he looked at you. If Nate knew how crazy you were about him as your heart would skip a beat whenever you’d hear him talk about another girl. He never seemed to show that he took note about how you acted when Sidney was nowhere to be seen. 
All of that seemed to change one night when it was only the three of you at the house “where did Sid go?” Nate asked as he popped the cap of his beer bottle before he sat in the camp chair next to her. 
You let your bottle clink against his “up to bed.”  Your words were met with a laugh “that old man.” The hockey player rolled his eyes as he shook his head “you think you can survive without your boyfriend?” You teased biting your lip in amusement as he scoffed. 
Nate didn’t hesitate to throw his beer cap at you “hey!” It was your turn to laugh as it hit you square in the face “have to say your brother is not my type.” Nate’s tone was serious as he pressed his lips into a fine line. 
Your fingers ran through your hair as you turned to him “the male party not get you going?” You joked as you turned your chair to face his letting the crackle of the burning wood echo in your ears “believe it or not they don’t.” Nate smiled as he placed his hand on your knee “y’know I’m actually really happy you’re coming to Denver.” You had gotten a job in the city and you took it. Now you were going to be living under his roof until you found your own place. 
It made you match his facial expressions “you are?” Your cheeks grew warm as you tucked your hair behind your ear “yeah I do tinker.” The nickname was something he began calling you after he came over one day to see you struggling to turn on your electric drill. As you struggled to put the screw into it Nate was able to figure out that you were using a star drill bit for a straight screw. When he laughed about it seeing your cheeks turn red your nickname was set, you were his tinker from that moment forth. 
Nate squeezed your knee as the gesture filled you with warmth as it made you feel weak “as Sids friend-” your words were cut off as he raised his hand to stop you in your sentence “I’m your friend too.” Nate pointed out as he had grown to build relationships with all of the Crosby siblings “you know you don’t have to act like you like him when he’s gone.” You had grown so used to the fact that people befriended you because of who you knew that it wouldn’t have surprised you if Nate turned out to be the same. 
In fact you had prepared yourself for the possibility of that reality “is it so hard to believe that I do indeed like you?” Nate scoffed as he watched you get up “if you’re gonna leave then the least you could do is answer me.” The hockey player grumbled as he wrapped his hand around your wrist. 
You hadn’t been this close to him before. Your lips pressed together as you got the chance look at him “look it really isn’t going to change anything.” You pointed out trying to keep your mouth shut “try me tinker cause I’ve got all damn night.” Nate stepped closer to you as he forced your head to look up at him with how close you two now were. 
There was a back and forth in your mind as you groaned “I can’t believe it because I’m in love with you okay!” The words left your mouth quicker than you could process just how dangerous of a game that you were playing “you better mean that tinker.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper as you nodded watching his facial expression soften. 
It took him seconds to bring his hand to the nape of your neck as he dropped his head to now be millimetres from yours. His lips were painfully close as he watched you lick your lips “if you’re not gonna kiss me then let go of me.” Your warning was enough for Nate to throw caution to the wind. His chapped lips were rough against your soft ones. 
Nate wasn’t interested in trying to fight you for power. No, instead he wanted to show you just how much he desired to have you and was finally in a position to have you. His other hand gripped at your waist whilst you let your hands trail up his chest under his shirt “wait tink.” Nate groaned as you let your teeth tug at his lower lip when he pulled away. 
Your lips were tingling as you swore you could still feel his “I need to stop myself cause if I don’t then I am really going to get us both in trouble.” His warning made you grin as you watched him look to where Sids bedroom was “who said I wanted you to stop?” You swore you had never seen Nate snap his head back so fast. 
Because he scanned your face to see for any chance of you lying to him, he came up with nothing “you’re playing with fire tinker.” The hockey player mumbled running his fingers over your lips “and I’m ready to burn.” You mumbled kissing his neck making the boy grunt. 
The hockey player didn’t hesitate to use his strength as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder “Nathan!” You squealed quickly being shushed off as you laughed “your short little legs wouldn’t move nearly as fast as I would need them to.” It was like clockwork, his legs carried you both into his house before he shut the door. 
As your body hit his bed you quickly realised that he was your new comfort and it was only going to grow stronger as the summer continued on. 
The relationship you had with Nate only seemed to grow stronger as you settled into life in Denver. For the first month you guys agreed to just let things stay casual. The main rule was that you were both allowed to have fun but if you both just so happened to land up in the same bed, it was okay. 
By December as the cold trapped the city, you guys equally found comfort in each other’s arms. So right before the Christmas break Nate gathered the confidence to ask you out. Now it wasn’t some big ceremonial type of thing like most would have expected someone to do coming from the NHL. 
Snow fell on the ground as it made you remember the soft parts of winter that you adored so much were left as evidenced by your long walk with Coco that morning. 
Your hair and coat had sprinkles of white coating your skin. The chocolate Labrador matched your amused expression as you made it back into the apartment “good morning.” Nate smirked as he sipped the coffee that he had freshly made. 
Silence caught you both as you stared at his shirtless body “good morning indeed.” You nodded sending him a wink “go get some water baby.” You mumbled disconnecting the leash as you stroked the dog’s fur before she excitedly ran off. 
Nate opened his arms as he embraced your scent “love how good you are with her.”  He spoke into your hair as he kissed your temple “she’s a good dog.” You smiled as you melted at his touch. 
His hand rubbed your back as you both stood there for a few more moments “when are you meant to go home?” The word now felt so foreign to you, sure your parents were there but you swore the man in front of you was where your home was. 
You grew up being taught that home was a place, walls holding up a roof that a family, your family could live in. But as Nate smiled as he scanned your face “what’s going on behind those eyes tinker?” Nate asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear “I know we agreed to keep things casual.” As your voice was hesitant the boy tensed. 
He was quick to begin preparing himself for the inevitable rejection that part of him knew would have made life easier. This way the hiding and inevitable lies that would be told to Sidney could have been avoided “but?” Nate trailed off waiting to see where you were going with it.
You pursed your lips together “I want more.” Time felt like it froze as the hockey player stared at you before his mouth broke out into a smile and a laugh blew past his lips “that’s not funny!” You complaint furrowing your eyebrows. 
Nate squeezed your body against his as he kissed your head once more “you love me don’t ya tinker?” He teased as he began to pepper kisses along your jaw “Nathan I will kill you.” You’d only ever use his full name to get him thinking that you were mad at him.
A gasp echoed in his ears as it finally made him stop “fucking love you t.” Nate confessed as he pinched his fingers on your chin as he tilted your jaw up to see him as he took the chance to kiss your lips. That was a day that he loved, because that was the day that he asked you to be his girlfriend, even if you would always swear that you asked him first. 
You had always been fond of rollercoasters. There was something about the adrenaline that you found yourself obsessed with. Constantly chasing that height of pure bliss. Yet the last three years were forced to teach you something, what goes up must always come down. 
For you, this was the worst part of your relationship with Nate. And that was all down to the fact that you swore it was the end. 
It surprised you and Nate both that your fighting had gone on this long now. Three whole weeks without a conversation going by positively. It seemed that everything you did pissed him off and vice versa. He drowned himself in his hockey as he avoided the house at all costs. 
He found it easier to ignore the hurt and pain you clearly felt as you were practically forgotten. Because he too was hurt. Nate hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to tell Sid about your relationship. Each time you would sit your brother down citing that you had something important to tell him, you’d end up forgetting how to speak as you would panic and chicken out of it. 
Nate wanted to be able to show you off to the world as he shouted from the rooftops that you were his. Yet you denied him of that right because until you told Sid the most he was getting from you beyond the privacy of his home was a lingering glance of a muffled whisper in his ear. Everyone thought you were together but he had to deny it every single time because it was what you had asked of him. 
Before he was able to bite his tongue about it but now you seemed to bear the brunt of his frustrations. As the team went seven games without a win it left Nate questioning everything, mostly why he was still with you if you weren’t ready to tell Sid. And he hated himself for that, you were his world so it killed him to doubt you. 
What was going to make it all worse was that you had been waiting for two and a half hours for Nate. Sure you guys hadn’t been at your best but this reservation had been set since July. Yes you knew you were stupid but it was your three year anniversary with Nate and you guys had a table at the best restaurant in Colorado. 
Or at least you did until an hour ago when the reservation came and went and there was still no sign of Nate as you cracked open your bottle of red wine “tinker!” Nate called out dropping his gym bag to the ground. 
The soft sounds of your sniffling made him furrow his eyebrows “tink?” He reached the remote for the speaker before he turned it off. Even if the hockey player used to joke about your height, he hated how easily you hid “hey baby.” Nate sighed as he walked into the bedroom that you two began to share two years ago. 
You were in the closet making a mess as you pulled things from your shelves shoving things into your suitcase. But that’s not what caught his attention, no it was empty bottle of wine that sat on its side pointing at your laptop. The screen had a one way flight to Canada “what is this?” Nate felt his head throb as he turned back to see you zipping up your suitcase. 
Pieces of the puzzle finally began to start clicking in his head “you know what day it was today?” You began bringing your hands to wipe your tear stained cheeks “it’s the nineteenth.” A penny could have dropped that moment as his eyes went wide “I’m so sorry.” The hockey player reached out for your hand but you raised it to stop him. 
You had gotten dressed up for the night, Nate’s favourite red dress that always ended up on the floor at the end of the night. Your hair was curled and your makeup was beautiful even if your mascara ran down your cheeks “where were you?” You chewed at the inside of your cheek assuming the worse “prac-” Nate couldn’t even get his words out as you slammed your hand against the wall. 
Those words made you wonder if he truly ever did tel you the truth “Cale fucking told me he left three hours ago!” You yelled lashing your hands around as you swore you were seeing red “I was at the rink okay?” Nate was telling the truth, he had been sat in his car staring out the front window as he wondered how much longer he could do this for. 
You wanted to believe him, truly you did. But as you stared into his eyes you couldn’t find it “I have a flight to catch.” You announced as you heard your alarm go off as you needed to get your Uber “what about our anniversary?” Nate’s words had you laughing “tell me you love me.” Your hand gripped the handle of your suitcase as you stared up at him. 
Nate sighed as his facial expressions softened “you know I do.” He nodded as it only made you frown “need to hear you say it.” It was unclear if you were asking or telling him but as you were met with silence you knew you weren’t going to beg. 
Colorado was a place you began to love but now it had all seemed to turn so awful so quickly that you were left in this toxic environment. The love you felt for Nate could only keep you there for so long but it seemed that tonight was your final straw. No it didn’t leave your love to dissipate but you began to lose yourself in his city. Your head grew heavy but you knew you needed to leave “when will you be back?” His voice was barely a whisper as he stepped to the side to let you go “I don’t know.” All you knew was that you needed to get out of there. 
That’s how you landed back up in Cole Harbour. You knew it would be quiet as it wasn’t peak season. The most interaction you had with people was when you went out to the grocery store or to get more logs for your evening fire as the sun came down over the frozen lake. 
Even as you felt all of this hurt in you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate that town. You could see where you and Nate once were like you had the front row seat to rewatch. Part of you contemplated reaching out to Nate but he was now playing the best hockey of his life and you began to wonder if that was because you were no longer there.
That was why you thought you were dreaming when you hit a month of being there when you heard the front door open “I have a weapon!” You called out with wide eyes as you stuck your head down the stairs “with your aim I’m not worried!” Sidney shot back making you instantly grow calm as you dropped his old hockey stick letting it hit the oak flooring. Your brother smiled as he locked eyes with you “Sid.” You gasped opening your arms to him as you were in need of a hug. 
Seeing him there made you realise that you had been lying to yourself, you weren’t okay. You missed Nate, you missed everyone. Parts of you even missed the irritating interactions that you held with your brother as he’d pester you 24/7. No matter how much booze or food that you surround yourself in, it was never going to change the back that you grew to need those people in your life. 
It killed Sid to see the hurt that was painted on your face “how’d you find me?” You had slowly started pulling away as your messages grew infrequent “Nate told me you left and I knew you were here.” Your brother kissed your head as he wrapped his arms around you. 
Everything seemed to stop in that moment as you tensed under his touch “did something happen between you two?” Sid ran his hands over your cheeks as he could sense that something was off. 
After all this time trying you still couldn’t lie to him, sure you could avoid telling him things, but you could never outright lie. On top of that you wanted to tell someone that you loved Nate, maybe that way you could keep your love for him alive in more than just your heart.
You frowned as you looked at your brother “I know I shouldn’t have.” Tears pooled in your eyes as you shook your head “Nate finally made a move huh?” Sidney smiled as he brought his hand to your cheek.
It made you freeze “finally?” You did your best to control your tears “he was in love with you.” The hockey player nodded as he laughed “god that boy thought I didn’t notice the way he looked at you either.” Sidney was so caught up in recounting how obvious Nate was about how he felt about you that Sidney didn’t notice how you smiled. 
That afternoon you told him everything, well everything Sid would want to hear - your sex life wasn’t a topic worth sharing - but part of you just felt guilty seeing how supportive Sidney seemed to be “why don’t you call him?” The offer seemed so easy, in fact it was too easy. 
And that’s why you laughed as you shook your head “I think we’re done.” Your lips pushed together as you raked your fingers through your hair “think he’s still in love with you.” The penguins player didn’t think that this was going to be how he spent his few days that he convinced the team to let him take. 
You let out a sigh as you leaned against him “really?” Sid did this thing where he would twirl your hair through his finger and as you’d fall asleep it seemed to always calm your mind “he called me thinking you were with me.” As he told you that he couldn’t help but notice how you had fallen asleep finally looking at peace for the first time in the entire trip. 
Sidney swore his days of meddling in your life were done until he decided that on his final day in Cole Harbour that you simply deserved better. He knew you weren’t perfect but you couldn’t spend your life hiding out in the lake house. Which is why Nate got the call after a Tuesday night game and he was only meant to be back on the ice on Thursday, it was perfect. 
Your brother had left that morning as he told you to think about going home, not to your parents but to Nate. Whilst you hadn’t made the jump to booking your flight you knew you wanted to go back. So as you grew ready to turn in for the night you enjoyed watching the rain pelt against the windows. Amidst all of the chaos you found within your life it always seemed that rain reacted the same way as when you were happy to when you were at your lowest. 
That was why you were so surprised when you heard a knock at the side door. You hadn’t seen a car pull in and you certainly hadn’t heard anyone walk up. The nerves you felt were low as only people you guys knew seemed to come through the side when they knew you guys were home.
Thunder clapped over the dark skies when you finally opened the door “Nathan.” You gasped seeing his clothing stick to his body as it was all soaked with rainwater “tinker.” Nate didn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug as he swore you were some figment of a dream in his distorted reality. 
To say you were surprised when he kissed your head it was an understatement “I came to bring you home.” You didn’t need to go to Denver to be home “you’re my home.” You mumbled kissing his lips as that was all you ever needed.
You guys were able to look at that moment and say it was the worst moment within your relationship. Being able to bounce off of Nate you guys learned that it was a 50/50 partnership, nothing more and nothing less would end up working out for you. Everyday you grew more in love with him even in those times you thought it wasn’t going to be possible. 
So years on as you looked at your three boys playing with their uncle you couldn’t help but smile as you thought about how far you both came “what?” You asked feeling Nate stare at you whilst your eyes stayed on Sidney who was teaching them to drive the boat “just thinking about how much I love you.” Nate shrugged hooking his fingers under your chin so he could kiss you. 
The moment was sweet until you heard the scoff “lovebirds if I’m free child care then whatever this is, is off the menu tonight!” Sid’s complaint made you both laugh as you rested your head on Nate’s shoulder, you were home.
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solar-wing · 1 year ago
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⚣ BatBro with his BatBros 🦇
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⚣ 🦇 A/N → Ah, my first full installment of BatBro headcanons. Where does the time go? Anyway, as we progress throughout these headcanons, you can imagine the characters slowly getting older too. By, the time we get to the end, the reader is at least 18 years old making Damian anywhere between 18-19 years old, since he's a few months older.
⚣ 🦇 Summary → Going from the life of an only child, to having 4+ siblings, can't be easy. Especially when most of those siblings brothers, and those brothers come from a family a crime-stopping vigilantes. What was your mother thinking in leaving you with your dad?
REBLOGS are very appreciated! REPLIES to, I love hearing your thoughts 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🦇
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I find it funny that no one has ever thought to take advantage of the fact that Bruce Wayne has created a habit of popping up with a new kid like every couple of years. They could try to offer up their kids to him in hopes of cashing in on the Wayne family's wealth.
And he actively turns away all of them, even if he is tempted a couple of times. At least until he gets to you. Everything was normal until your mom decided one day she was done being a parent and just dropped you off at the front gate and left when you were 9 years old. This is also around the same time Damian ended up in Bruce's care, so you both were now dealing with the fact that you've suddenly got a father you never knew, as well as a brother. Well, brothers, since Bruce did somewhat actually have children before he had you guys. 
She left a note along with your other belongings that said “Trust me. He yours,” with nothing else. Bruce could only stare down at you with that usual grim, but pondering look he had while you just stared back at him. 
“I’d thought you be taller,” was your first sentence towards your dad. One that was vaguely familiar to the billionaire as he rolled his eyes and led you inside the manor.
Obviously, Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed everything to be true. You were indeed his son, snarky remarks and all. You and Damian must share that quality.
Speaking of, since you and Damian were blood-related, you have a more special bond with each other. Even if he bullies the shit out of you.
Hiding your toys and games all around the manor, stabbing your favorite teddy bears and various stuffed items with his knives and daggers, and I'm just going to throw in that you have a love-hate relationship with Scooby-Doo now.
You love the cartoon, but Damian took advantage of the fact that you may not do well with scary stuff and would make his own costume versions of the villains from the show and chased you around the house with them. They were horrifying and disturbing enough to even unsettle Bruce a little, so you could imagine the early childhood trauma you endured.
People think your fear of clowns stems from the Joker. No, it's from Damian.
It’s always from Damian.
Plus, since you and Damian are around the same age, you both end up in the same grade at the same school. So he always keeps a look out for you and protects you from any bullies, while you teach him how to be more sociable and friendly towards others.
Now, if Damian's closest relationship with another brother outside of you is Dick (who you along with everyone else agree that he is basically Damian's second father), I imagine you have a close relationship with both Jason and Tim for various reasons.
You and Tim connect because you both have very intellectual and detail-oriented minds. You watch Scooby-Doo, so you obviously have an interest in mysteries as well as the Red Robin personality. Whenever he is having a hard time connecting dots to a case or a puzzle, you simply come in, take one look and somehow figure it out. Sometimes, you’ll even just make a random statement that ends up being the key to what Tim is looking for.
Tim and you both have an interest in video games, you a little bit more than him. It was because of you that he even really got into them. Before, when it was just you and your mom, you didn’t have anyone to really play with, besides whatever friends you could find online. So having someone you could play with, especially in person now made you and Tim’s bond that more special.
Also, you’ve made it your responsibility to make sure the guy gets adequate rest and sleep and doesn’t drown himself in caffeine.
“Timothy Drake! It is way past your bedtime. Off the Bat-Computer and upstairs into bed young man.” You yelled, marching downstairs with an amused Alfred towing behind.
Your father and siblings all watched from the sidelines as well, all amused at the sight of your young, tiny body, yelling at a slightly older and taller teenager as if you were his father.
“Um, I’m older than you,” Tim responded while holding on to what had to be his 5th coffee of the evening.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“Master Tim, with all due respect, I’d do what the young lad says. He’s already started unplugging and cutting the cords to every coffee and espresso machine in the manor.” Alfred said from behind.
Tim looked at you in horror while you stared at him the look on your face very much communicating a ‘try me if you want to’ message, and that’s when he noticed the pair of scissors in your hands.
“OKAY! I’M GOING! I’M GOING!” Tim shouted, sprinting out of his seat and up to his room. Your brothers were quietly laughing until you turned your head right to them.
“And, what are you three laughing at?! Get to bed right now.”
Now, it was their turn to question you. Cause Dick and Jason were full adults and even though Damian was only a few months older than you, well that was it. He was older than you so he bossed you around, not the other way,
“Woah, there little man. Jason and I, we’re grown. We don’t have bedtimes.” Dick said.
“Yeah, squirt.” Jason voiced right behind Dick with his arms crossed.
“Watch yourself, little brother,” Damian warned.
You raised a subtle eyebrow at them while your father and Alfred both looked at you with curiosity.
Alfred, however, had a little more amusement to his look since he already knew where this was headed.
“Dick, I will never have another brother movie night with you again, and I’ll start going to Jason for brotherly advice instead of you. Also, I’ll tell Kory you were being mean to me.” You threatened your oldest brother.
Dick was both hurt and fearful because how could you even threaten him with something that awful and quite frankly, plain rude and ridiculous. He gave way better advice than Jason! Also, he knew Kory absolutely adored you ever since Bruce brought you to the tower that one time and would not hesitate to put him on punishment as well if she even thought he was being mean to you.
Jason was holding a smug look at your threat toward Dick, that is until your eyes landed on him. “Jason, I know where you keep all of your limited edition books, especially your prized signed copy of Pride & Prejudice. We certainly don’t want that getting in the wrong hands, now do we,” You said, turning to your second oldest sibling. Jason was surprised, and slightly impressed, though also terrified. How could you know?!
You turned to your blood-related brother, who held a bit of an overconfident look as there wasn’t anything you could have over him that would have him actually following your orders. “And Damian, I’m sure you don’t want dear old Dad to know what happened at school last week, now do you?” You said, playing slightly with your fingernails while ‘innocently’ rocking back on your feet as if you weren’t blackmailing your siblings. For noble reasons, of course. They need their sleep!
Your brother was both shocked and angry at your statement. How did you even know about that? The look on his face, well, let’s just say it wasn’t friendly, not in the slightest.
But, to no one’s surprise except your dad, all your siblings silently trudged upstairs without another word.
Bruce looked at you and Alfred with a raised eyebrow as you turned back to face your brooding father, only now you could see his brooding look had a hint of questionable curiosity and amazement. 
“You too, daddio. It’s bedtime, yo.” You rhymed. Apparently, not only was everyone’s sleep tracker, but you had a bit of flow with it too. Someone should get you a record deal. 
You gave your dad a slight hug, your head barely reaching above his waist. You still had growing to do! You’d get there eventually.
Walking back toward the entrance, you also made sure to stop and give the butler a fist bump since he was your secret partner-in-crime. How else would you know where to hit to get your brothers to fall in line? with a slight hug to his side before heading back towards the entrance. 
“Thanks, Alfred,” You said!
“Anytime, Master Y/N.”
Bruce eyed you both suspiciously before he realized what was going on as he watched your small body bounce up the stairs.
“Really? You’re in cahoots with my son, Alfred?”
“Why, Master Bruce, I’m offended. I’d say it was more of a beneficial partnership. Cahoots is for the reckless.” Alfred responded jokingly.
The age-old ending to every mystery novel plays out again, the butler did it.
Though, Bruce was still impressed by how easily your brothers listened to you without a second thought. It takes him a few tries just to get a sentence through their head, and that’s if they were actually listening to him that time.
“Wow, he got Jason to listen to him? I still can’t get Jason to greet me without looking him looking like he wants to punch my lights out.” Bruce commented.
“He has your commanding tone, sir,” Alfred said before backing up the manor himself, “I wouldn’t let Master Y/N catch you back down here, though. I heard he’s got some especially dirty leverage on you.”
Bruce suddenly decided to look at the clock, “Guess it is a little late,” He muttered before rushing upstairs himself.
Speaking of Jason, your relationship with the second adopted Wayne kid had more of a special touch. The Red Hood persona was the brother you really looked up to. You liked and respected how he branched out and followed his own path. Of course, Dick technically did the same, but considering everything Jason went through, he had to be one determined fucker to return to the very life that killed him. And, even though you don't necessarily agree with his 'strategies', you were always standing in his corner.
Though, Jason didn’t take well to you at first. In fact, because Damian left such a bad taste in his mouth after they met; when you two were introduced, he literally ran upstairs and screamed at Bruce about how he was the biggest hypocrite in the world for all those lectures he gave him and Dick about using protection. Richard silently agreed, also remembering his first meeting with Damian. 
Determined to not live with a Damian 2.0, and also thinking he was saving you from a life full of trauma because, in his mind, no one deserved to be raised by someone like Bruce Wayne, Jason attempted to take you down to child protective services. 
Your father was very unhappy when he got a call from CPS later that day and he could clearly hear you sobbing on the other side of the phone just as Jason walked through the front door. He was not the least bit ashamed, at least until you came home and he saw how upset you were.
He apologized and decided to give you a chance, thinking since the whole ordeal actually had you crying, you had to somewhat have a soul, unlike Damian. After some time, you got really close with each other. 
Jason taught you how to fight and defend yourself. He’d read you stories at night from some of your favorite books as well as your own, and he’d always get Damian to back off if he decided to pull another one of his scare antics on you. 
Your second eldest brother was your get-out-of-jail card too, whenever Bruce punished you for something. Though, sometimes, it may have just been better to take the punishment than let Jason pull you into whatever shenanigans he was planning. Considering the fact you and he managed to put an entire city without power for two nights somehow.
"How did you two manage to short-circuit the entire electrical grid in New York?" Bruce asked with you two standing side by side, looking like you just finished sleeping on top of a giant summer barbeque grill.
You both looked at each other before turning back to your stern-looking father, Damian mirroring his expression with his arms crossed and tapping his feet.
"Would you believe us if we said it started over a debate of how to eat fries with ketchup?"
Bruce slapped his forehead to his palm while Damian called you idiots. Tim got that curious look on his face, and Dick couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes.
Now, your eldest brother, he was definitely someone you could count on no matter what. Being the oldest and having the most Bruce experience out of everyone, he always helped you deal with your Brucie problems or ‘daddy issues’ as you'd like to say.
Truth be told, every kid in this family had daddy issues.
As mentioned before, Dick was your movie-watching buddy, he helped you with your homework and always assisted with any life issues you had going on. No matter how many times you may have threatened the Nightwing persona with such, you always went to him for advice, and there was never really a moment you could think of where you regretted it.
He also helped you learn how to be more agile and light on your feet with your fighting. While your second eldest brother taught you how to use brute force and strength in situations, he gave you the acrobatic style of lessons. Where Bruce and Jason were direct and serious, Dick taught and showed you how to be more of the opposite.
And, whenever Jason wasn't around to get Damian off your back, you'd go to him since he was basically his second dad.
You and Dick together were like two chatty Cathys on drugs. One moment, you could be talking about the movie you were watching, then you’d get into a debate over onion rings vs french fries, somehow landing in politics, somehow ending up in a political debate only to end with the "Are we even real" conversation. And for whatever reason, you swore you could hear Tim itching in his seat whenever that conversation came up.
That boy goes down a lot of YouTube rabbit holes at 2 AM when he’s bored on patrol or not doing anything.
Now, one brother on their own was one thing. Two? Someone was calling the police. Three and you may have to check if your life insurance policy is still good. All four? Pray.
Since you now were officially the youngest, a title Damian was actually happy to pass on despite his warnings to Bruce, that meant you got the most of the teasing, even if it mostly came from your blood-related sibling. But his version of teasing tended to leave you with trips to your therapist so you could do without them.
However, one rule all your siblings and family stuck by, no one, and I mean NO ONE, not even in the Justice League or Titans/Young Justice teams, could mess or pick with you except them.
Everyone in the family was very protective over you. You were surprised to see even Alfred was on that list, though you learned quickly the butler was not one to be fucked with. 
You distinctly remember that one time the Batcave got invaded and Batman made you hide in one of the saferooms, you saw on one of the video monitor screens Alfred whacking the shit outta them with just a rifle.
For that reason, among others, you took a mental note to be careful with how you complimented his cooking in the future.
But seriously, if anyone messed with you, and your family found out, Hell itself would be scared of what would break loose from your home.
A bully from school started picking on you and calling you names and you didn't tell your brothers about it, wanting to handle it on your own. Besides, you could defend yourself. They taught you well.
Until the fateful day you came out as gay, bi, pan, etc., and he called you names that your father wouldn't even repeat, and that man had the title of a playboy.
Well, word spread around the school and got back to Damian, who went back and told your other brothers.
By the next day, Dick had shredded every thread of that boy's confidence. Tim hacked the school files, got his address, and framed him for changing grades in the school. Jason used said address Tim got to pay a trip to the kid's place and shot bullet holes in all his clothes when no one was home. And well, let's just say Damian almost went to jail.
Of course, Bruce was pissed when he found out and had to intervene, but when Damian admitted the reason he nearly got arrested, your father upped his allowance.
Only God could imagine the terror that would unfold the day you started dating.
Oh, and they all call you babybird which you despise.
Don't even get me started on your sisters.
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