#excuse me just gonna rant a tiny bit

[bangtanintotheroom]

Plug & Play (M)(Teaser)

• Pairing: Guitarist!Hongjoong x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Rock Band!AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 742

• Summary: Tonight is the night that you quit being a bystander and make a move towards the guitarist on stage with the devilish smile.

• Warnings/themes: a rock show! 🎸, swearing, drinking, pining, Y/N is a horny bean, Hongjoong and his dangerous smiles 🫠, Yeosang the wingman, flirting, making out, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, fingering, hitting it from the back, fingers in mouth, finger sucking, protected sex (be responsible!), clothed sex, multiple orgasms

• Notes: Welp, it’s happened; I fell for yet another leader 🙃 which culminated in me going feral over his recent guitar solo and needing to write something related to it. So here it is! I should have this uploaded by Thursday morning, the latest, since I’ll be out of town for a few days. We’re trucking along pretty quickly, so I have faith! 💕

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask!

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @firesighgirl @swga-ficrecs @hyunjinsjeans

“I’m gonna fuck him.”

Yeosang stared at you from behind the counter, wondering if he heard you right amidst the clinking glasses and rock music.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m gonna fuck him, Yeo.”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes, rotating ninety degrees to point at the object of your desire on stage.

“Him.”

There was little surprise on your end at the scoff you heard from behind.

“You’re still on that mission?”

Your head whipped around incredulously. “Yes! Why are you shocked by this?”

Yeosang’s expression reeked of indifference as he wiped some bottles down.

“Because I thought you would have given up by now.”

“I don’t give up easily, dude—” Your eyes watched as a certain someone tuned their guitar strings. “—especially when I really want something.”

And you really wanted the man you had in your sights.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Are you new here?”

Your head shook at Seonghwa’s question. “No, I don’t even work here. Just helping my friend out while he gets slammed with customers.”

The pretty guitarist smiled softly.

“That’s very nice of you.”

Your cheeks couldn’t help but warm a tiny bit, shooting him the same look. “Thank you. He has to listen to enough of my ranting at home, might as well ease his pain somehow.”

Yunho blinked curiously before asking, “You’re roommates?”

“Mhm.”

He made a sound of understanding, yet another voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Thought you looked familiar.”

You focused your sight on Hongjoong, recognition on his attractive face that had your heart beating a little faster.

“Me?”

“Yeah—” His mouth quirked. “—thought I saw you hanging around Yeosang the last few times we were here.”

Oof. You weren’t sure how to react to him basically saying that he recognized you from afar. It wasn’t a bad thing, at all, considering your end goal, but you were surprised he even remembered with the amount of people in this building.

All you could muster was a scratch of the back of your neck, trying not to fluster further under his gaze.

“Haha, that’s me, always bugging him.”

Hongjoong gave a soft laugh, eyes scrunching in humor. It only made you more bashful, trying your best not to rub the toe of your boot into the ground.

Noticing that Yunho was roped into a conversation with the others now, it just left you alone with the lead guitarist.

A window of opportunity!

But for some reason, you couldn’t muster the words to continue speaking with him. Even though he continued to acknowledge you with his gaze, your eyes averted to watch the stage behind the dining tables.

“Hey.”

Your ears perked up, looking up to see Hongjoong eyeing you with curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

A lifesaver.

You had to hold back the large grin you wanted to give, settling for a polite smile instead.

“Y/N.”

“So…”

You turned around, hearing the door shut and lock before Hongjoong approached you, lips curled akin to someone ready to indulge in the sweetest dessert of their life.

“Is this a much better spot?”

Your mouth twisted in humor, nodding as you replied with delight, “Much better.”

“Good.”

The both of you looked into each other’s eyes, bodies thrumming with energy that was ready to be unleashed at any moment. Although, no one made a move for a moment.

That is, until Hongjoong chose to take a step forward, leaving the tiniest of spaces between you two.

Having him so close directly in front of you had even more of an effect than before, his fresh scent invading your nostrils while your heart pumped faster. It got worse when a hand came up to brush some hair behind your ear, his touch making you bite your lip.

Hongjoong noticed your shift and chuckled, “Nervous?”

You shook your head.

“No, just…excited.”

His grin only widened at your admission, sliding his hand down gently cradle your jaw.

“Same. Didn’t think I’d ever get to be up close and personal with Yeosang’s pretty friend.”

Although you were melting inside at the compliment, your eyebrow raised in amazement.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So why didn’t you make a move first?”

You hoped to trip him up, but the guitarist didn’t seem fazed, straight teeth almost blinding you.

“I wanted to see how badly you wanted me.”

His low response brought a mixture of exasperation and lust to you, your eyes rolling as you huffed, “You rockstars and your egos.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[charlesswife]

times that charles and y/n showed they are couple but keep saying they are not - video

pairing: charles leclerc x f1 driver! reader

summary: after their public kiss, fans went crazy, one of them made a youtube compilation of your favorites formula one drivers being a wholesome couple but saying they are just friends

lowercase indeed

[intro with monotone voice]

hello friends, in this video i'm going to show you how charles lechair and my queen y/n y/l/n are a couple, they can't really deny it, they are so obvious they make me sick, specially after the kiss they had on tv.

[cuts to the video playing in slow mo with the intro of careless whisper]

anyways here we go

we start at the 2022 Met Gala, where our queen decided to bless us with her presence, and who is a few feet from her? Charlito. They both looked stunning as how it is and absolutely angelical together.

they both approach one of the interviewers and while the interviewer was asking y/n about what she was wearing, charles was only giving y/n heart eyes, only looking at her.

you ain't fooling anyone charles, you love her.

"We are here with celebrity icon and Formula One driver y/n y/l/n" the interviewer started, "alongside her, it's Charles Leclerc"

"Hello" I greeted her.

"So tell us a bit about your outfit, who are you wearing?"

I said what I had memorized before the MET, explaining about the dress, the collaboration with the designer, and what the theme means to me. typical questions with typical answers.

"I see you came with Charles Leclerc, was that planned?"

I wasn't surprised about the question, I knew people were gonna ask about Charles, but she was so bold for it. I looked at Charles, who was already looking at me.

"He begged me to come," I said, "he almost cried like a baby," I laughed. Just as I did that, a piece of my hair got in front of my face, before I could fix it, Charles' hand was already doing the job.

"Well, we are glad you did. You guys definitely look good together"

[cuts to second clip]

if you thought that pierre and charles were the gossipers of the grid, you are wrong. it's y/n and charles. whenever they are in the same room, they just look at each other and the telepathy starts.

"it's crazy the way Charles and Y/n understand each other" Lando said to his twitch chat, "like they just know what the other is thinking it's scary."

The comments started to flow, chat wanted examples.

"Like the other day, some of the drivers, we were all talking and out of nowhere Charles just hands her like a hair tie? no idea where he got it from but apparently y/n made this 'face'" he quoted with his fingers, "that she was hot, he's such a simp, he says he always has one for emergencies"

after a few seconds he started ranting again about Charles and Y/n

"they like to judge people too, they might laugh and deny it but it's true-- last week Carlos was doing this dance move thing and immediately charles and y/n look at each other and it looked like they were having a mental conversation, mate they are crazy together," he reads the chat, who was asking more about their relationship, "I don't think they are just friends as they say, but whatever"

[cuts to third clip]

In the picture of Formula One first day, Y/n said her favorite song is Ready for it? by Taylor Swift.

The social media person in charge of Tiktok, Sarah (idk their names this is just made up), followed Charles with a tiny mic and asked him

"Excuse me, what are you listening to?"

Charles took out one of the headphones and asked, "What?"

"The fans want to know what you are listening to"

"Oh! I'm listening to Taylor Swift" he giggled as he showed the screen to the camera. The song being Ready for it?

There is a speed up walk to Y/n in her red suit drinking water. She sees Sarah with camera in hand and waves at her.

She repeated the same question from before, "Excuse me, what song are you listening to?"

"I'm listening to my girl Taylor! Look What You Made Me Do from the Reputation album," as she showed the screen, a message notification could be seen 'Charles ❤️ - iMessage' she turned her phone back to her to take out the notification, "Oops" she turned the phone back to the screen, "Here we go" she said with a smile.

The caption of the video was 'Our ferrari drivers being Taylor fans is a big slay'

[back to main screen]

i rest my case, but we cannot forget about this iconic moment from charles and y/n, this moment lives rent free in my head.

"So for today we are going to give you boards, and we are gonna go who's most likely"

As Y/n got her board, she said, "this should be fun, we know each other pretty well,"

Charles nodded, "I think I know more about you than you about me"

"Is this a challenge, lord Perceval?"

He laughed, "I mean that's the whole point of the video."

"Bring it on, big boy"

The camera was recording the whole interaction. As Charles was doing the intro for the video and explaining what they were doing, Y/n was doodling in her board and erasing stuff.

"I am so ready to crush you," she said.

"Let the best racer win"

"Who's most likely to want to do something spontaneous during the weekend"

Y/n started writing her anser, "Guys, this is pretty obvious," she turned her board around and the words Charles were on it. Charles had the same answer.

"Me. 100%"

"Charles is always wanting to do something over the weekend, I just wanna chill at home with my cat," she explained as she erased the board.

"So true, I have to drag her out of her house sometimes"

"Which reminds me that I need to change my lock or take away your key," with her comment, Charles rolled his eyes.

It went on like that for a few more rounds until the game was other.

"I think we did a good job," Y/n says.

"I think so too," Charles agrred.

"High five," she put her hand up for him so high five her, as he did, he grabbed her hand and pulled her chair closer to him.

The scene was repeated in slow motion with Careless Whisper in the back again.

[outro]

i really need charles and y/n to confirm their relationship so i can be have a nice good night sleep.

dont forget to share, like and comment for more videos of charles and y/n.

----------------------------------------------------------------

is this...? a new series...? anyways, enjoy this while i start to write the new chapter of UNEM, which i'm hoping to upload by monday.

let me know what you think about this imagine and if youd like to see more of charles x f1 driver! reader! because it is definitely fun writing about it.

@fandomxs1 @teti-menchon0604 @moonclaine @amsofftrack @fandoms-stuff @mac-daddy-210 @bisexual-desi @miureiz @diasnohibng @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @leclercsbae @bhiees @empathypostsf1 @marauderlover22 @ushygushybaby @zendayabelova @lord_leclerc @itsmesofia @sebbybucky12 @notleclerc @dicaprio-leo @starkeyellow @spngi @mskeisha69 @prrttyposts @vex-et-soleil @dessxoxsworld @thesurielscheesecake @severenswife @livsans @67-angelofthelordme-67 @booksobsess @buckleyverse

[sweetshelluvaau]

Finally, I finished him!

So here he is, the King of Lust himself, Asmodeus! I wanted to take a break from the main cast plus hyperfixation came into play so if I didn't draw Ozzie my brain would have exploded so here we are. I'm putting this under read more because there's a lot of ranting before I get to the notes on the redesign plus pictures to address my points:

To be honest: I don't mind Ozzie's design/outfit in the show. It isn't horrible by any means and there was a time where I could say I even liked it. But when Oops dropped and seeing him without the suit happened, disappointment sunk in.

Are you telling me this man, is a beefcake under that compression suit? The embodiment of lust is jacked and his outfit doesn't show that!?

Seriously Viv, where's the beef?

And while I did say that I did at one time like his design, I never found it really 'sexy' (his voice on the other hand...) and after seeing his beautiful chest all I can do is cry about it.

Also: what is it with Viviziepop and top hats? It's if half of her male cast wears them. It'd make sense for some characters, notability sinners who died in their era that they were popular but it makes no sense for other characters. In this case, I just think Ozzie looks better without one.

Ahem, yeah okay, right, soooo notes:

I noticed one of his earlier looks before the final design he had a longer, thicker and fluffier neck and kinda sad they didn't keep that being it worked with the rooster motif he's suppose to have. I decided to incorporate it back into my design just because I can. Plus, ya know it's fluffy:

I also decided to give him bird feet/chicken legs and make him a bit thicker thighs because excuse me he's part rooster have you seen the meat on those things?!

Because my obsession with his chest, I decided that the outfits should show it off more because, um...chest. Also: FLUFF. idk why I just really wanted to make him fluffy.

The outfit on the right was the one I drew first but I felt it was lacking the regal feel I wanted to go with being he is one of the Deadly Sins and I wanted to show that (along with his chest and fluff but shh). I decided to keep it as a secondary, causal outfit on days off when all you want to just lay on the couch and chill/cuddle with your boyfriend. (likely gonna get rid of the neckless being I mostly just added it because I thought it was funny. If you know, you know.)

After going back at it a second time I decided to go for a burlesque style (Not sure if I nailed it or not) considering his club sorta had that theme going for it and while I'm more than likely going to revisit and change a few things later on, I overall love how the outfit came out.

And of course, a crown. I may get rid of the fire/flaming top in later drawings but I thought it was cool at the time.

I may still revisit the design to maybe add a bit more bull, goat and possible dragon to his design outside of the heads but I think I may save that for when I cerate his full demon form where I'll have those features stand out more. Likely won't have him have his tiny form in my au, no matter how cute it is.

not really a design note persay but kinda want to mention it because it bothers me: I drew/inked and colored both of these at different times which is why the anatomy and coloring is so different from each other. I'm still playing around with clip studio paint tho I think the shading style on the right is the one I'm gonna go with for now on.

As for character/lore notes: I really don't like how it feels as if Ozzie (along with some other characters) was defanged in season two plus how they made him, a deadly sin, not feeling all too threating. Granted, Ozzie being nice isn't the problem (being nice doesn't necessarily mean you're a good person plus I do like that the sins do have some virtues like believing in consent being ya know, complexity and what not suppose to be full on evil) and I even have him being one of the nicer Sins in my AU but still can have his dickish moments and hell, he and Fizz are gonna drag your corpse with the amount of roasting they're dishing you about your sex life because god they were so much fun when both them had more bite. Please bring back my chaotic asshole jester gremlin and his rooster boyfriend tag teaming about how much you suck in bed and just being a general nuisances to society plzthx. (plus ya know, Fizz is a Jester his job is roasting people. Not to say he can't have some kindhearted moments. His friendship with Blitzo gives me life and I love the moment with the deaf kid even if you have to question why a kid is doing at a 18+ event to begin with but that's a whole other can of worms.)

While I'm not going with the circus theme that Viv claims she's going for with each Deadly Sin being based off a circus act (which is a fun idea in theory tbh if that idea expanded on outside of a poorly done aesthetic), I kind of like the idea of a magician motif for Ozzie due to his use of fire plus one of his infernal correspondences happens to be illusions, which we kinda saw him do in Ozzie's. I thought it was a cool touch, regardless if that was intentional or not.

Also, apparently it's canon that Fizzarolli is his first romantic relationship and idk that kinda bothers me. Asmodeus is over thousand years old and in biblical lore he's been in a few relationship (plus what happened in the Book of Tobit with Sarah). Why not play around with that? In my AU, he's been in at least two (Lilith and Mammon respectfully, and I'll talk about that at a later time) before but they were all failed relationships, which soured his view on love for a long time until he fell for Fizz. I also headcanon Ozzie being/use to being a bit of a hopeless romantic, as much as he tries to hide it (poorly).

Hey, I drew some half decent hands for once.

Anyways, yeah, here's my version of Ozzie. Next up with be either Stolas (which is less of an rewrite and more of a damn overhaul because holy shit I really had enough of this guy in canon) or perhaps Beelzebub being I got some ideas for her too.

Made with Clip Studio Paint and Photoshop CS6 for final touches. Okay to reblog, Feedback is encourage.

[tfp-enthusiast]

Tiny!Transformers

Starscream

[Thank you! Sorry if it's a little late.]

You where brought to the Nemesis in the middle of the day, Soundwave made an excuse for you at school/work, and you had no clue why

It didn't help that Knockout was laughing the whole drive

"Knockout, what happened?"

Over the com you could hear Breakdown chuckling a bit before answering for KO

"Don't worry, it's nothing big"

Knockout and Breakdown where laughing their asses off from that sentence

Let's say that when you saw what exactly the problem was you had to bite back some laughs

Of course it was some kind of bad pun to the situation, you guessed that but you didn't expect Starscream to be around half the size of your leg

"...Can I ask what happened to you?"

"I don't have to tell you anything!"

Of course he would say that infront of the others

You will just ask him when you're alone with him

Speaking of alone, you could see that Screamer was not only very uncomfortable but he seemed scared of the others, so you decided to ask Soundwave if you could just 'watch over' him at your home

"Don't think you can now treat me like a sparkling or some kind of pet."

You never would but the thought of putting a leash on him or put him in time out for bad behavior made you grin a little bit

But you kept that thought for yourself

For his sake

When you got home, driven by a Vehicon, you took Starscream to your room

"Hope it isn't too messy for you Screamer, I didn't expect visitors."

He thought for a moment if he should take that as some sort of bad joke but choose not too

He trusted you that far

"What do you fleshies do in moments like these? This berth seems very... wierd."

You chuckled a bit before going to your shelve, that stood next to your bed, setting Starscream down and getting out two Nintendos

"We are gonna play some games! You can choose what you want to play."

Starscream choose Super Mario at first, failed a few times and threw your Nintendo almost against the wall, but then he choose animal crossing

It was cute to see him play such a peaceful game

"By the way.. Why are you so small now?*

He let out an semi annoyed sigh before explaining that he found an relic but it seemed to off when touched, it was badly damaged, and it shrinked him

"Shockwave works on it... probably takes his sweet time with it.."

You just listened to his rantings while you both played and sometimes reassred him about what happend

You hated that the Cons where that mean to their own and while you could understand it to some degree, you didn't understand why they blamed almost everything on him

It began to get late and you got tired but didn't want this time to stop

It was very rare to see Starscream relaxed like this and you felt bad for him

But he noticed too that you where tired and even if it mostly doesn't seem like he cares but he does, in fact, care a lot

"Go to recharge now. I can't have you half asleep here."

You just nodded and smiled before getting ready for bed

Starscream laid next to you, seems like he liked the softness of your bed

After some comfortable silence he begann to talk

"Thank you for taking me with you."

You didn't know if he expected that you heard him but you answered none the less

"Of course i did. It's what friends do for each other."

You could see him smile and began to drift off to sleep

THE NEXT MORNING

You got woken up by someone cursing loudly

When you got up and let your eyes adjust to the light you saw Starscream fly around your room with something sticking to his vehicle mode

"Y/n help me! Whatever this is it blocks my ability to transform!"

You where confused but nodded before answering in a groggy state

"Then you have to come here, I will try my best at helping."

Upon looking closer it was a bit of flex tape

Where did he even get it from???

That would be the perfect add 'even stoops alien robots'

Whiile you where with busy not laughing at your own, bad, joke Starscream started looking trough your stuff

"What is this!?"

You watched where he was and saw he was mentioning towards your favorite book

"That's a book, we humans like to read them because they are entertaining and sometimes teach you new things."

Starscream just nodded as if he was taking in the information

Afzer a few seconds he just transformed and flew to where the Nintendos where and picked both up

He gave you one and then turned his on, they learn so fast, and smiled at you

"I want to play again."

You can't say no to that face

So you played the next hours animal crossing and even tried again to play Super Mario but seems like tthis kid of game was just not for him

Tho it was cute to see the joy in his eyes wheen new people joined

But even the best time has to stop

You got an SMS from Soundwave saying that you will be picked up in a few minutes and Starscream will be turned back to his original height

You swear you saw a sad look on his face for a moment

After Starscream was back to normal he treated you better, he did before just not infront of others

It was not all bad, just you missed bit that he seemed so carefree for a while

You still sometimes play animal crossing and he even does when you aren't there, he surprised you one time with an island themed around you and the things you like

[orionsangel86]

Ive been thinking about this post again today after I saw some posts in The Sandman tag that seemed a bit like gatekeeping to me and using the comics as an excuse to make fun of Dreamling shippers.

I usually ignore stuff like that, but I think its worth reminding fans of a few important points.

1. Whilst I highly recommend reading the sandman comics, it is totally not necessary if you just wanna enjoy the show (and not spoil upcoming stories!) As Neil Gaiman has already previously said, Sandman is for EVERYONE regardless of which media you choose to engage with. No gatekeepers allowed!

2. The Sandman universe in the comics is rich and full of super interesting characters and only gets better the further on you read (Overture my beloved fave!) BUT fans of the show DO NOT have all this context and therefore will only want to explore what theyve seen in the show. Don't be dicks pointing out how show fans are somehow wrong for their show based headcanons.

3. If show fans wanna make up headcanons and fan theories that don't fit in with comic book canon that is totally within their right and it is no ones place to mock them for not following comic canon.

4. Learn to live with Dreamling. Yeah look I get it, its a tiny fragment of a story in a much wider multitude of beautiful stories. Yeah it can be frustrating how fandom has "main charactered" Hob Gadling. Just accept that fandom is gonna fandom. Dont like, dont read. Keep scrolling, rant on your own blog OUT OF THE MAIN TAGS if you must. Hell, make an anti dreamling tag if you must waste energy on negativity but please keep the negativity tagged and separate from positive fandom fun.

4. On the Dreamling note, its worth mentioning that Hob Gadling in comic canon is not a really nice person. He is selfish, he makes bad choices, he is rather rude and tends to be on the wrong side of history. He's not very likeable. He says inappropriate things sometimes. He's not what fandom has made him (because fanon Hob is a fandom projection and self insert character more than anything else at this point). That is not an excuse to piss on peoples Hob Gadling headcanons and smugly point out what an ass he is. Its certainly not an excuse to attack people as if liking him makes them morally inferior to you.

5. Honestly though if you're looking for perfect characters you're better off quitting Sandman altogether because literally all characters in the comic are flawed especially Dream. He's THE problematic fave. He's a bit of an asshole, even though we love him. Tbh even comic Dream and Hob are made for each other in that respect.

6. The show is not the comic. I feel like this should be obvious, but its very clear that the show is telling a kinder story than the comic. The characters are far more likeable already and a lot of the more eyebrow raising stuff (such as Desire raping Unity) has been removed. Therefore anyone using the comic character flaws to somehow justify why Dreamling shippers are morons and their faves are assholes is just a dick. Let show fans enjoy what the show has presented to them.

7. At the end of the day, let people have their fun. The Sandman is an ideal fandom sandbox in that the world is rich and full of potential and a beautiful source for creative inspiration. Fans wanna play in this sandbox and make up their own fun ideas and stories and that is a wonderful thing.

Don't piss in the fucking sandbox.

[ginanddietsoda]

little rant / update

my bfs little sister is counting calories and trying to lose some fat. she’s eating 1200-1700 kcals and idk if she’s doing it in an ed way to if she’s just doing it “healthily”

like what if she’s competing with me cause she ALWAYS asked what i’ve eaten and stuff like that and it’s making me so competitive and i almost hate her for it

and i just wanna be skinner but also not lose my bum. like i don’t wanna be bonespo (but don’t get me wrong that looks beautiful) i just want a tiny waist and still have some hips and a bum. and ofc to weigh as little as possible while still doing that

i thought of just losing a lot until i reach a goal weight/body then upping my kcals a bit but in protein and working out more to keep my bum. rn i do strength training about 4 times a week but im just getting weaker and weaker.

i’m also going home from uni accommodation on may 22 and my mom obv knows a lot abt ed’s because i’ve been through it before and we did family therapy together for supporting ed’s so i just worry she’s gonna realize but i’ve got time to come up with an excuse and if she wants to know my weight i’ll tell her cause it’s not low now AT ALL.

[dandelion-system]

This is such a dumb thing to complain about but my mum is so stupid??

Okay, so I get why she’s doing it. This thing is about getting me to the train station for uni. I live at home and depending on the time of day she’ll drive me to the station to get to uni. But she won’t go too early in the morning or during rush hour in the evening.

She insists on taking me at any other time of day.

I don’t know how to explain to her that actually those are the least helpful times for her to drive me? In the mornings and evenings the bus is jam packed and I’m lucky if I get a seat. Which I need, due to me physical disabilities, but won’t get offered because she was funny about me using my cane and now I don’t take it out anymore (even though I really wish I did.)

And if I do get a seat it’s invariable perching on the edge of an aisle seat, and then the person in the window seat will ask for me to get up while the bus is moving to get past and then I’ll almost fall over because despite coaching my balance, the tachycardia of standing up and doing it on a moving object is not conducive to me staying upright.

I would rather she got over herself and dislike of driving during rush hour than insist she take me during the quiet hours.

Because during the quiet hours I can be independent! I can take the bus because there are always seats to sit in. It makes no difference to me other than a tiny bit of comfort to get the bus or have her drive me. I need the help when she won’t help me.

UGH I know she won’t do it because she has ocd and gets obsessions about crashing the car but honest to god I need her to get over it or shut the hell up because if I had a penny for each time she yelled at me for one of my harmless compulsions (washing my hands) I’d be rich. Like??? I am getting in no one’s way, I am not disrupting anything, maybe I make things like, 2 minutes later? But nooooo my (diagnosed) ocd isn’t something she can be lenient with, yet I have to suffer because of her undiagnosed ocd (not saying it’s not bad, but it’s blindingly obvious and she refuses to seek help for it while knowing it’s interfering with her life.)

Just- she could get over herself and make me feel like less of a burden with the whole ocd stuff, or she could let me use my cane again??? Is it that hard?? She can do what she’s always telling me to do and ‘pull her socks up’ or let me be visibly disabled.

And if I say anything she’ll be like ‘I’m not saying you can’t use it. But if you use it then you’ll look disabled and you’ll lose all of the progress you’ve made’ (I’m gonna be real that progress is going backwards faster without the cane) and blah blah blah more excuses to make me feel bad and make me think it was my idea to not use it, even though I know it’s her getting in my head and I’ll just resent her for it. Can she not just be openly ableist??

Wow this turned into a much bigger rant than I expected

[pignipplez]

I’m gonna screech I’m so awkward and literally deaf and with those things combined make the worse mixture ever to be in physical therapy 😭

Like my back is already crippling from scoliosis I don’t need the tiny speck of self worth I have left crippling too 🤕

I’ve gotten lost 2 TIMES AT THE FUCKING THERAPY OFFICE cuz i couldn’t hear the “follow me” like i feel so bad for the man that has to deal with my bullshit 😭

(one time he left for 10 minutes and then came back sadly having to call my name to times to get my attention to tell me to follow) (he has laughed about this interaction like every single session since dude 💀)

so today I went in and was so awkward cuz the guy was ranting to his coworkers about the new reboot of avatar and he was so giddy about it so I just stood behind him for what felt like 20 minutes cuz I didn’t want to erupt him (even though I’m paying for these sessions and he totally wouldn’t have cared if I interrupted him because I was done with my exercises 🥲)

I WAS WALKING INTO THE BACK ROOM TO DO THIS THINGY AND HE SAID “oh excuse me I forgot your towel be right back” AND I SAID “okay” AND HE WENT TO GO AND GET IT AND WE DID THE AWKWARD THINGY WHERE YOU TRY AND GO ONE WAY BUT THEY GO THE SAME AND WE LIKE LYRICAL DANCED IT WAS SO GRRR IM SOBBING THIS POOR MAN 💔💔

And when he tries to tell a joke I never here him and so I always just dry chuckle so I don’t sound rude because if he has to here me say “what did you say” one more time I think we will both set off a bomb 😢 I bet he’s really funny and I would tell you so if I wasn’t so clinically deaf 🤕

Dude and when I’m laying down I always have to do the “suck on my back” turtle thingy to be able to get myself up and dude this is literally going to be the death of me 😔 you know like the old man gripping your knees or back and having to rock a little bit to get the momentum to get up ☹️💔

Yeah so that’s what I have to do to get up 😭🎉

Would anyone be up to do a spine trade with me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

It would only cost you the stability of the rest of your internal system 🤗💕

If you all this thanks for listening to my disable rant 🤕🥺🫶

Bye ❤️‍🩹

[vwritesaus]

I cannot WAIT to read your Thomas Grief Fic, but I feel a little bad because I also have begun a Thomas Grief Fic 😅 I'm so pumped though I feel like a lot of Thomas-related things got SUPER brushed off and it was ridiculous since he was probably the most impacted person by the main TLH deaths??? He deserves better ugh lol

gasp, excuse me you're also writing a thomas grief fic??? mate you better tag me in that shit when you post it, i need to read it so badly. there fr needs to be more thomas grieving fics bc you're so right—he deserves better. that was precisely my main thought when i first starting writing this fic eugh

and i guess it's up to us fic writers to see that's it done huh? the more the merrier i say. our boy deserves justice. tbh most of the tlh characters do :'(

"I feel like a lot of Thomas-related things got SUPER brushed off and it was ridiculous since he was probably the most impacted person by the main TLH deaths???" —SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK ! ! ! !

yes. like intermission: grief, for example, was mainly cordelia mourning james's and matthew's disappearance into edom (which is fine. seriously, it is) but thomas got a tiny mention about how he was the last of the merry thieves in this world (london) and how alone he must feel. that just straight up broke my heart, but then it doesn't really get mentioned again?? so am i gonna delve into that a bit more in this fic? absolutely. and that's not to mention the severe lack of grieving at/mention of the fucking funeral. if livvy and robert can have theirs in tda, christopher can damn well have his in this fic

tbh there's gonna be a lot i address in this fic, you mark my words. there's just so much to say, y'know????? whether i do it successfully is another matter, but i'm gonna bloody well try

anyway, sorry for the rant, and i'm so happy you're excited for the fic, thank you!! i'm excited for yours too so please lmk when you drop it ♡

[mossymultiverse]

warning! Weird Cat(?) ahead

just gonna put a blanket unreality warning. just. just in case.

hi! im moss, and i travel allll over the place. here, there, some other places as well, sometimes nowhere at all! this blog is.... not exactly a travel journal, but a place for me to put my thoughts on the various realities i find myself experiencing. so.... i guess, sort of a travel journal. uh.

expect memes, slightly panicked summaries of where i am and wtf just happened, mildly rant-y grumblings abt my plan(s) going awry, and maybe even the occasional picture! ....and a lot, i mean a LOT, of reblogs. (tagged #rebog. bc i think im funny.)

my pronouns are they/them and mu/mur/murs

i don't usually travel with people, but i'll give them lil intro posts of their own if/when i do. those will be tagged with.... #companion lore!

i'll try to tag most of my posts with the place they're from, but my memory is a bit wacky, so i can't promise it'll be super consistent.

likewise, let me know if you need me to tag anything else, and i'll do my best!

[[ OOC UNDER CUT ]]

my tagging system is a lil.... odd, so. just a heads up- anyting past the #[ ooc divider ] tag is OUT OF CHARACTER. everything in front of it.... is in character. makes sense? good. which means, yes, that unreality warning at the top of this post IS in character. dimension hoppers gotta cover their tracks somehow.

anyways. the brainrot continues!! this used to be a pokemon irl rp blog, but is now.... an oc rp blog. uh. my character (self insert/persona) is a dimension hopper, and therefore will be posting about many, many worlds.

moss is a ~4'3" humanoid with white skin and brown hair. they have four eyes, the left two of which are dark red and the right two of which are dark green. the top pair of eyes is a little smaller than the bottom pair, which sits in a mostly normal human position, just a tiny bit lower. they wear a patchwork jacket, with a green base and many colorful patches, and when in human-dominated areas they wear a red bandana over their top pair of eyes.

as with before, fake discourse (ie fictional world discourse) is ok but i would prefer to keep real discourse off of this blog thank you. otherwise ask whatever tbh, moss is always looking for an excuse to be cryptic and/or annoying

my pronouns are they/them and mu/mur/murs, main is @mosstalon4, enjoy your stay!

[rexlroze]

I DON'T KNOW WHY IT TOOK ME AN HOUR TO READ THIS BUT IT DID. (Probably cuz I kept switching b/w apps cuz I was talking to some friends but still)

ANYWAYS, RANTING TIME‼️‼️ YIPEEE

Is it bad that I instantly knew it like probably (definitely) was a flashblack/R was dreaming when I read the "Hobie lopsided smiling looking up at you" sentence or smth like that? Like... I don't think that's good💀

The kiss part has my heart in a hold. I will not promise safety to anyone in a 10 mile radius if I go feral. They need to reenact the first scene:3 Ngl, I feel like it would feel like their first kiss again when they do get together (looking at you, katy. No hanky panky🫵)

HAH. I KNEW IT WAS PROMISE RINGS, CALLED IT, BITCHES!!! >:3 THAT'S SO ADORABLE THOUGH. I HONESTLY LOVE THE CONCEPT OF PROMISE RINGS SO IEKGOWOVOWOOFKRKKRIGIOOG.

I think I might love the feeling of my heart just hurting really bad because why do I crave this shit? Omg. The "He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else then with you" line, omg you're gonna kill me with the angst. I love the miscommunication. It's so tasty 😋 (I've been craving angst if you couldn't tell)

"It's Larry now" Okay Hobartholamew Larrious Brownius the III. Fancy fucking much?

NELLIE!!!! WEEEEEEE

Ouch, Ouch, Ouch. The "Don't expect me to give you a new one", "Then don't." I had to close my phone and bury my face into my damn pillow cuz BRUH. One of your fics are going to be the death of me cuz like. I feel like R kinda, maybe tiny tweeny bit feels like he doesn't care about her even though he'd probably strip naked(please do☺) just so R's not cold. It's called miscommunication for a reason.

'Atta girl' Omg, is that HOBIE PRAISE I SMELL? *Ms. Rabbit has fainted. Ms. Rabbit has fainted again.* Do you think he would say that while you guys are in, y'know. I'M SORRY, (not really) I HAD TO-

I feel like there's more to the gun scene because like, why do you really need to know how to use a gun, right? Even if you "manufacture" them or whatever R said, you don't HAVE to learn so it could supposedly be for protection? Idk, i might be looking too deep into it lol.

To the scene where we find out, Hobie isn't actually wearing the ring: Hobie, when I catch you, Hobie🫵 ... Ngl, i have this teeny tiny instinctive feeling telling me that he still has the ring, he's js keeping it safe and hidden. (If not, let me stay delulu)

WHY HOBIE WHYYYYYYYYY. That's not very girlie pops of you:( Also is R scared of thunder? or perhaps loud noises. And like, Hobie just defuses the situation saying "you don't have to scared, it's just lightening" and even if he had left for 5 years, he'd at least have to know that she was scared of lightening because I mean, they were a couple and I doubt they never experienced a thunderstorm in the years they've been dating so that technically means that it's a new development that happened due to something we know happened over the past 5 years—as we know it, abuse. Why does it cause R to be scared of lightning? Only Katy knows. I don't know how many times I've said this but again, I might be looking too far into the deep end when it's just a dead ending but I suppose you can never look deep enough:)

OMG, FINN'S HERE TOO! WHAT IS THIS? A REUNION EPISODE? JWKFKWOGL. Love him for sitting R n Hobie up:3 (Can we get shoup, Finn? 🤲)

I feel like R just wanted an excuse to sleep in the same bed as Hobie^^ not that I'm not saying she wasn't tired... she could've kinda waited it out js for a little 👀 (relatable, would've done the same)

LOL, IS THAT THE LINE YOU WERE TELLING ME ABOUT? I'm quite the rider aswell if I say so myself, Hobie🤭 Thank you for fighting you demons for us:) Save a bucky, ride a Hobie

I find it bad that Hobie's grown so like, paranoid over the years while leaving out there. They can never catch a damn break in Katy's writing😮‍💨😮‍💨 (do it again☺)

THE ENDING? RAHHHHHHHHHHHH. HOLD HER HAND, HOBIE, DO IT PLEASE.

The only broken bitch ass is R's aunt, haggy ass bitch😒 Also why are R's parents always dead💀 do you have a personal vendetta against them, Katy? 😭 Oh but I just thought what if they're not dead 😳 If they're not, they perhaps gave R away to her aunt, idk, to pay some debt perhaps? I NEED THE COGS IN MY BRAIN TO STOP TURNING

I'm so invested, ngl. Broken? Fym broken? why does it matter that there's an imperfection on her body so much you work at a factory, no? unless there's a cost. Literally. And also, in the backflash, R/Hobie mentions she has to face a "loveless marriage in the future" so that still means the arranged marriage/she's being sold theory is still up, whether the ring means something different or not.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Me when Katy eats and leaves no crumbs in her writing^^^

Kay kay, you have served once again fr🫶 THAT WAS SO TASTY, I'M GONNA CHUG IT AHHHH. I hope you can tell I'm invested cuz if you can't... I don't think anything can😔

Can't wait for Chap 4 cuz it's supposedly supposed to be my favorite one😋

What is Normal for the Spider is Chaos to the Fly

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7 k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader, CW violence and gore, CW blood, TW death, CW guns, CW food mention.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 3 >>> CHAPTER 4

Eyes closed, you breathe in the fresh spring breeze, the first of many this season. Pollen makes your nose itch, bees buzz around the field of flowers, yellow dots kissing the soft petals. A babbling brook sits near you, perfect spherical rocks worn down by the waters makes you want to skip them across the transparent clean water where fish lie and swim right under the currents.

The bright sun above shines down on you, its light fighting through your eyelids and through the canopy of the oak tree. Its strong trunk provides the perfect back rest, the wood is stable and protective of your relaxed form. Like the softest carpet, the green grass below is splayed under you. Blades of grass and wildflowers swaying amidst the wind just like how your lashes flutter with every soft blow of the cool air.

“Why'd you stop?” Hobie asks from below. You crack open your eyes to see his lopsided smile, jade eyes crinkling in the corners. His head is resting on your lap, fingers absentmindedly playing a tune on the beaten up guitar on his chest. There's flowers in his hair, courtesy of you. “C’mon, lovie, I was just starting to fall asleep.”

You chuckle, and he smiles wider. The sun bathes you in its glow, a halo of light around your head, a heavenly sight for a mere mortal. “You're spoiled you know.” You realize your fingers are in his hair, soft fingertips paused on his skin. Your vision goes blurry, with a blink, everything shifts back. “So spoiled.”

“Says the one who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.” He says it with no ounce of malice.

“How'd you know about spoony?” You joke, he laughs, a sound better than anything you've ever heard of. “How was work?”

“Lonesome, you didn't come by.” You tilt your head, lips pursing into a soft smile. “Do I still smell like gunpowder to you?”

“No, you smell like flowers.”

“Is it too late to say that I'm allergic to ‘em?”

You giggle, “No you're not. You haven't even sneezed.” Grabbing a daisy from his hair to wiggle it under his nose, his face scrunches up comedically, and then he fakes a sneeze. The loudness of it startles the birds nesting by the branches, wings fluttering rapidly further away.

“Good job, you scared the birds.” You look down at him, hand inching closer to the daisy ring you've made a while ago.

“What? I can't sneeze?” His eyes are glued to you, the sun paints a pretty picture of his viridescent eyes shining in the light.

With a deep inhale, you take his hand away from the guitar, slipping the flower ring you've been itching to place on his finger. Hobie seems to freeze up either in your touch or the sight of the makeshift ring. You show him your hand, an identical white flower whose stems are wrapped gingerly around your middle finger.

“Ta dah.” You say shyly. The tightness around your chest clenches at his silence. “I'll take it off, I'm sorry. I thought—”

Hobie quickly reaches up to shield the ring away from you, “No, don't—it’s brilliant. Thank you.” You beam at him as he intertwines his fingers around your own, the rings in full display. “Suits me, I think. But it looks better on you.” You inhale, the comfortable warmth is replaced by icy air. Everything shifts.

The breeze is colder now, the grass is frozen under your feet, frost clinging to each blade. The canopy is no more, only dark angled branches with tiny leaves hang off the precious oak tree. A puff of smoke billows out of your dry lips, Hobie hugs you closer, hand rubbing up and down your arm, body heat shielding you from frost bite.

“Cold?”

“Yes, very.” You shiver, and he holds you closer. “This sunset better be worth it, Hobie, I had to put down a really good botanical book for this.” You say, cheek pressed atop his chest, breath warming his neck. You'd choose him over any book.

“First sunset of the season, love. It's worth it, I promise.” Without a second thought, he takes his coat off to place it over your shivering shoulders. You huddle closer, wrapping yourself around him. Sharing your warmth.

Blue slowly ebbs away as he pulls you closer. The clouds part ways for red and orange, pink splashes across the sky, a watercolour painting that leaves you gasping for air. Or was it his lips upon yours for the first time that has you heaving for air?

Hobie kisses you with the gentleness only a lover could provide, yet with the tentativeness of someone who isn't sure you'd kiss back. The pads of his fingers brush along your jaw, ghosting over your flustered flesh. With a sigh and a pull on his jacket collar, you kiss back. Lips pecking the corner of his own, clouds of smoke mixing in, hands warm on your searing cheeks— he slowly leads you towards the same oak tree. Your back hits the wood with an almost silent thump, his hand protecting the back of your head. Eyes closed, you memorize his lips by kiss alone. Your hands knead at his nape, he shivers not from the cold.

“I'm in love with you.” He says it confidently, like he's been saying it to himself for years. He feels like he has.

“I've been waiting to hear you say that.” Your eyes meet his own in a dance. Eyes flicking down to his lips, jade eyes looking between your blown out eyes and your quivering lips. “I've been in love with you. For a really long time.” You feel his lips open, mouthing the three words back against your own. It's barely above a whisper but you know that he'll scream it if you asked.

A flash of his warm hands around your own, a glimpse of a knife carving yours and his initials on the wood that you both call home. A muffled promise lingers in your ears, soft, just like his lips on yours.

You open your eyes and you see him above you. Hobie pinches your nose with a laugh, calloused fingertips squeezing lovingly at you, emerald eyes swimming with affection. The warm air passes by, humidity stuck in your nose. The sweat of your brow is quickly wiped away by him.

“Stop sayin' that, yeah?” You don't remember what you said. “You're bloody gorgeous, she doesn't know real beauty even if it hits her powdered arse.”

“Hobie!” You laugh, hands planted on his hips, the fabric of his shirt is hitched up for easy access. “She's still my aunt, and my legal guardian.”

“Unfortunately.”

Your smile agrees with him, but if you say it out loud you're afraid that the ground will swallow you alive and Hobie will be ripped away from you.

“It's a nice day today, you plannin’ on gropin’ me the whole afternoon?”

“Yep!” You look down at where his hands are placed, palms cupping you right above your ribs. “You planning on doing the same to me?”

“Say otherwise and I'll take my hands away from you—”

“No!” You say quickly before he could finish.

Hobie guffaws loudly, face leaning closer to yours. You close your eyes, expecting the expected. Instead, his head falls on the crook of your neck, blowing warm air into your skin.

Your laughs echoes around the clearing, fading into the sound of leaves crunching under your footsteps.

Orange leaves fall down on you like rain, a puff of breeze settles in your muscles, rattling your bones. Despite the cold, you inch your way closer to him, his smile beckons you over, grassy spring coloured eyes lighting up at the mere sight of you. His back resting on the strong oak tree that carries both your names.

“You know, we could always meet up at your place now that you're the up and coming associate.” You hold your hand out towards him, his fingers slide on your palm so naturally that you think you're made for eachother. “We can stop sneaking around now thanks to you.”

Hobie feels like he can finally breathe once he has his hands on you. He twists your wrist gently, leaning down, he presses a quick kiss on your pulse, eyes meeting your own. Years of being together, and he still makes your heart race.

Warm lips on your skin, he pecks it again for good measure before leaning away and pulling you closer. His hands are around your hip, while you wrap yours over his shoulders. “We could. But even after all my hard work, your aunt still doesn't—won't approve of us together. I'm me and you're you, love. What would they say when they see their heiress skulkin’ around the harbour, hm?”

“They won't say anything because I'm good at skulking around.”

“Or they'd say you're hurtin' your prospects of a good husband.”

“Fuck them! You and my garden are all I need.”

He calls your name solemnly, “we have to face the fact that—”

“What? That I'll be stuck in a loveless marriage in the near future?” You shake your head. “I refuse.” A humourless laugh breaks through.

“Good thing you said that or this will be awkward.” Hobie takes out a pair of gold rings from his pocket, it shimmers in the sunset, cold metal upon his warm trembling hands. “It took me a hundred days to save up for them, they're scraps from the factory. All melted together to make a pair.”

“Y–you're stealing from us now?” You could barely finish your joking sentence with the sob fighting to escape your throat.

Hobie laughs, a breathy one that has you mentally making up another joke just to hear it again. “Been at it since they hired me.” He hands you one, not sliding it down your finger, no, he places it right in the middle of your palm. “Remember those daisy rings you made years ago?” You nod, eyes brimming with tears. “I've made ‘em real this time. But the next one would be pure gold, none of the mixed ones I've melted with it.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as you glance at the gold ring that is a hodgepodge of different shades of yellow gold. Some seem to be darker, some lighter. “You deserve real ones.”

“You could make me a ring out of grass and wood, and I'll still wear it everyday.” Taking the ring, you slide it into your middle finger, a promise, he says in your ears, a promise, you repeat against his lips as you slip his own ring around his finger. A promise you both carved out into the tree and into your hearts, a promise that you'd carve out into your skin if you could.

The smell of burning wood wakes you up with a start, You've woken up with tears trapped in your eyelashes.

Your eyes open to a boiling pot of brown liquid. It's familiar, awfully so that you've hated it, it reminds you of someone you'd rather not remember. Looking up at the sky that is darkened to a pale blue, turning the orange and green plains into its royal colour— The roaring open fire is the only bright thing in sight, a yellow glow amidst all the bitter blue.

The amber flames screams among the dead silence and the vast emptiness, ‘Someone’s here! Someone’s alive over here!’ yet, you don't feel like you are.

You cough from the cold, throat itching from dryness. Lifting your hands up to tug the blanket further up, you now notice the deep crescent moons left on your palms. Some even bled through the night, dried blood decorating the lines on your palms and under your fingernails.

“You're awake. Good.” Hobie's voice hits you like a carriage, sleep ridden mind still hazy. For a second you thought that you're still dreaming of him. But his solid form and smoke from his cigarette resting on a stone says he's real. Your mind can't dream of something so tethered to reality like this. “You want some?” He rattles the now empty tin cup, brown liquid dripping from the rim to the ground below.

“You're offering me a cup?”

He furrows his pierced brows. “‘course, there's plenty.”

“No, thank you. Do you have something to eat instead? Or water?” Sitting up, you wipe the sleep off your eyes. Your joints hurt, stomach gurgling, and ankle aching. You hate it here, he's the only one that's making everything bearable even though he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than be with you. It still hurts, thinking that he does.

“Yeah.” Standing up with a groan, it seems like sleep didn't agree with him either. There's bags under his eyes, worsened by the shadow from the brim of his hat. Taking something from his pack on Buckeye, who still slumbers quietly, he holds out a canteen and a piece of dried meat wrapped in cloth. “‘ere.” The familiar scar on the back of your hand has him reeling away. He remembers the day you got it, he remembers how his hand trembled as he stitches your hand back together.

“Thank you.” You say, stiffly smiling. He nods, returning back to his seat.

Breakfast went over fast, with dawn turning into morning, and the crisp air warming down, you take the blanket off your shoulders. Bucky trotts on the road, coyotes chirp on your left and a tumbleweed passes by on your right. It feels like you and Hobie are the only people on the road, or even in the whole world.

You clear your throat, attempting to break the quiet after riding for hours in absolute silence. “So…are you an outlaw? A mercenary for hire, or even a trapper?”

“‘m one of those things, yes.”

“So mysterious. You know you're still an open book to me.” Looking over your shoulder, he grabs your chin to make you look away and to keep your eyes on the dirt road. To which you laugh at. “Yep, still an open book.” It's true that you still know him for the man that he was, but there's missing pieces of him in your mind. You intend to dive to find the pieces so you could piece together who he is today. Before you go home, before you part forever again.

“How would you know?” Hobie tamps down a smile even though you won't be able to see it. “Maybe I've changed in those five years.”

“Oh you have.” You'd know. “But I can still see through you. I know you, Hobart Brown. Or did you also change your name too?”

“It's Larry now.”

“You serious?” Looking behind, you see him sporting a smirk. A smile spreads across your lips at his playfulness, a semblance of the Hobie you once knew.

“For example?” He asks, something he might regret. “What do you see through me?”

“Well, you put this big bad façade up because it's what everyone expects you to be. But in truth, it's so you could survive here. I bet it's working well since you're still here breathing.”

“I don't care what anybody thinks, Y/N.”

“I know that too. But you still do it because you don't want them talking to you, coming close to you. I remember how hard it was to even get you to speak to me.”

“I was a kid, we were children, and I was new in town.”

“I got you to talk though. Still proud of myself that I got to see the real you.” You puff out your chest. “This place is just like our old town, you know. Harsher, yes, but this time you don't bother to try, not like last time.” Your voice lowers into a murmur. He knows why he doesn't bother, because there's no one out here that could get him out of his walled up shell just like you did. There's no one like you. “I still know you, after all these years. Even if you think I don't, or at least the version of you that you left me with.” The sky gets darker, grey clouds floating next to white fluffy ones, and you still remember how he held you the first time you shared a bed. “You've changed and I confess that I barely know this side of you. I don't know what happened to you in those five years but could you let me try to get to know you again? Just like last time?”

The clouds above darken his green eyes, something passes by them, something that has his hands gripping tighter around the reins.

“It's goin’ to rain.” Is all he could say. “We should hurry and find shelter, there's a shortcut I know.”

You inhale the sharp familiar smell of petrichor, letting it settle in your lungs, letting it drown you, letting it seep through your skin so you can focus on it rather than the flatness of his voice that lacks what you're used to.

“Sure,” you swallow thickly, nails digging into your hemp bindings instead of your flesh.

Hobie clicks his tongue thrice, a sharp almost whistle, and out runs Bucky faster on the sandy lonesome road. Hooves thudding like the rumble of the heavens above, a lightning storm races behind you, sparks of light flashing and clashing on the mountainous rocks of the west.

“Hold on,” Hobie whispers close to the shell of your ear, goosebumps spreading through you like poison ivy on skin. He leans forward, leather clad body shielding you from the harsh howling winds that approaches quickly. “This storm's comin' in fast.”

Wind whips your cheeks, cool air making you narrow your eyes into slits to protect it from the dusty debris. A silhouette of a person appears at the end of the road, you feel Hobie stiffen up from the suspicious man. Arms cage you in, the mysterious man's shadow gets closer and closer as Bucky whines and halts to a stop. Hobie hides your hands with his own, a small act that brings your mind a minute of peace.

“State your business.” Hobie says in a practiced tone, commanding like the one he used with the man who snatched you.

The old man walks with a twisted cane, a makeshift one made from an old branch. His eyes are dull and almost silver, blue rings around his irises, eyebrows thick and white, beard bushy and hair almost gone. Right behind him lies a dip in the road, a chasm from where you sat, a deep gorge from what you surmise. Right next to the road sits a dingy solemn cabin, roof looking like it's about to collapse under its own weight, hinges creaking, window shutters opening and closing harshly from the wind. A border collie barks at you, mismatched eyes unwavering, warning you of something to come.

“Just ‘ere to warn you, son.” The old stranger trembles, either from the cold or from his bad leg. “Anyone who come ‘ver down that road doesn't come out unscathed.” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his yellowed shirt. “Just tryin' be a good samaritan.”

“Yeah? Penance for the war then?” You give Hobie a look. He glances over to you in return.

“I was on yer side, son. I won't be out ‘ere warnin’ you and the missus if I wasn't now eh?”

“Thank you for the warning.” You pipe up, the brief silence has made the whole situation more awkward. “We'll try another route then—”

“No,” Hobie stands his ground, “just like she said, thank you for the warnin’ but that's the closest route to Strawberry.”

The man takes his hat off even with the intense shaking of his hand. He then places it on his chest like he's already mourning you. “Safe travels. Don't say I didn't warn ya.” With a whistle, the dog runs over to him before helping him walk home.

“Wait!” The man stops in his tracks, even the dog turns around to face you. “A storm's coming, you'll be cold. Here.” Sliding your hands away from Hobie's, you take the blanket from your lap.

“My eyes are bad but do I see you givin' me your coat?” He smiles toothily.

“Y/N—” Hobie warns.

“Yes, but it's a blanket, not a coat.” The man chuckles deeply, cheeks red and warm.

He whistles again, and the dog walks over to you. “Give it ‘ere to ol' Nellie.” The dog wags her tail, tongue lolling.

“Hi, Nellie,” you giggle as you lean down to place the fabric in her mouth. “Take good care of it. Good girl.” Hobie's hand is holding your waist, single handedly preventing you from falling over.

He remembers your kindness, how you don't falter when you see someone you can help. You're unequivocally kindhearted, a stark contrast to himself, and what he has become in those five years he wasn't by your side. He remembers how much he loved and longed for you. He needs to know who sent the letter on his behalf, but it can wait, maybe he'll thank them when he does find them.

You don't notice him look at you with the same expression he had years ago.

With a happy wag of her tail, Nellie skips over to her owner, handing him your blanket. “Thank you, miss, you've got a kind soul.” There's warmth in your chest, nodding towards the man. “You take care now. And you.” He looks over your companion. “Better watch her back and protect her kind soul eh?”

“Get inside, don't want you gettin' my blanket drenched.”

A laugh billows out as he waves you away. Entering his humble abode with a loud bang of his door.

“I think we should listen to him.” You say above the winds.

“We'll be fine,” Hobie's voice is softer. “I've been ‘ere before. Just listen to me, yeah?” He kicks gently, and Bucky takes his cue to run in the same direction again.

“If I listened to you back there then the poor man would've shivered from the cold.”

“And now you'll be the one shivering from the cold.”

“He needed it more than I did.” You almost scoff as you hold on tighter around the horn of the saddle while Bucky trudges downward on the slope and into the gorge.

“Don't expect me to get you a new one.”

Now you scoff. “Then don't.” Yet, your chest clenches from his words.

Buckeye finally slows down halfway through the gorge. Hobie inhales deeply, jade eyes flicking above the rocks. The walls seem to close in on you, fifty foot tall walls of ancient stone looming over you. A stream runs along the path, murky brown water splashing with every movement.

“Why'd you slow down—?” Your eyes widen at the moving figures above. “There's people up there.” You whisper as you watch them observe you. The bows on their back gather your attention, eyes piercing through you than the sharpest of arrows. Hobie suddenly grabs your chin, still gentle but with a sense of urgency this time. He turns your head towards the road, rough leather sliding from your chin to your hands.

“Keep your eyes on the road. And keep your mouth shut.”

“Will they let us pass?”

“Yes.” He says immediately.

“Do you know them?”

“Yes, now keep quiet.” Tipping the brim of hat in respect, you do as you're told. “Or they'll be the one askin' me questions. And we don't have time for friendly banter.”

When he says those words, you hear a whisper of his name from above, then a bout of laughter echoing downwards. Subtly looking over your shoulder, you see him crack a small smile.

You turn back towards the road, a soft morose smile on your lips from how much you've missed from his life. You want to know what happened to him in those five years, to be told stories of his adventures under the campfire. To be part of those stories once more, not whatever you're in with him. An afterthought, a burden.

You're starting to feel all the love he once gave you was just from your mind. Made up by you, dreamt and imagined.

—

The cave you've found shelter in is perfect. It's big enough to house you and Hobie, even Bucky rests inside, dry and happy while his dark eyes follow you— as if trying to keep an eye out for you. The cave protects you from the hammering rain outside and from the lightning that pierces the clouds. You lean on the rocky mouth of the cave, hands reaching outside to cup the rain and feel the sharp water droplets drench your skin. Lifting your head up, you watch the sky. The storm has no end in sight, yet, there’s a bit of light passing through the grey, a ray of sunshine that brings hope, blue peeking in between the dark clouds.

Water splashes against your flesh, cleaning the tiny gashes and dried blood that you're not sure is all from your body. The rope that binds you is soaked, weighing heavy around your wrists like steel bracelets.

Wind howling, lightning cutting through the sky like a bullet through skin— You don't feel his heavy gaze on you.

The roaring fire behind you provides warmth just like the man tending to it. And like the fire he's tending, he realizes that his affection for you still burns him inside out no matter how he tries to snuff it out.

The fire crackles, you watch your shadow dance with the flame's movements. You still don't feel his heavy stare on your back.

With a forced smile, an idea pops in your head. You let the water on your palms fall, flicking away the droplets, making your own patch of rain.

“I've got a proposition.”

“Come eat, smelly” You both speak at the same time, amusement flashes behind his precious emerald eyes that's illuminated by the embers.

"I don't smell." You laugh in between, loving the fact that he seems to be in a better mood. Sniffing at yourself, you scrunch up your nose from the smell. "That much. You're not any better.”

Hobie shakes his head, hiding the curl of his lips with the brim of his hat. He places a can of peaches in your direction. “We'll be in Strawberry by late afternoon. There's an inn there where we can rest and bathe.”

Sitting down next to him but still giving him enough space, you tuck your legs under you, wiggling your hands in front of him.

“Can you untie me now? I'm not going to run, Hobie. Where will I go?”

“Tell me about your so-called proposition.” Hobie raises a brow, teeth biting down and clenched around the leather before fully yanking his glove off. You suddenly feel hot when he unties your hands without another word.

There's no identical ring around his finger. Your happiness is snatched away at the sight of his empty finger. What was once a promise is now gone from his flesh that you used to trace with your own hands.

Clearing your throat, you watch the shadows on the cave walls flicker behind him. “W–we take the scenic route. I want to see the sights the new world has to offer. Before returning.” You don't even want to call it home anymore.

“The new world? You sound like a grandma.”

“You saying ‘state your business’ wasn't any better, grandpa.”

Hobie's eyes meet your own, green eyes aglow. A remnant of the Hobie five years ago. You could get used to this, his warm gaze that soothes you from the inside out, something that you never took for granted before but never thought you'd miss dearly. You welcome it back with open arms. Even if it was brief.

A flash of bright lightning hits outside your cave, startling you, free hand placed on your quaking chest.

“It's just lightning, love.” A freudian slip, a term of endearment that travels you both back in time. Now that he said it once more, he finds that it still fits you like a warm hug on a cold winter's day, or a first kiss, one of many.

Slowly turning your head, your lips tremble, eyes watering from a silent cry. You try to reach for him, but he deflects your touch by twisting around on his seat, taking a swig from his canteen. The only one that he has.

Quietly eating, your insides are yelling for you to hold him close, to be near him, to hug him until the screaming stops. You can't satiate the feeling, it bites at your bones, chewing, eating at you, going hungry, starving. You stand up, leaving the can of peaches on the ground, returning to the mouth of the cave so the feeling will ravage you alone once again like it always has for the past five years. You've survived this long, but there's barely anything left of you now— a husk, barely a speck, so you cry and cry, sobs muffled by the rain.

You don't feel his gaze on you. He feels the same gnawing feeling in his belly, crawling up to his chest, eating what's left of his heart like a vulture that carries all his grief and guilt.

—

You're back on the road again, the ground is wet and muddy. Clay and grass sticking to Bucky's hooves as he trudges along the soil. You purposely don't remind him about the missing rope around your wrist. Loving the freedom the lack of it brings, you brush your fingers through Buckeye’s hair; dark wavy tresses that reminds you of fine silk.

“You take good care of him.”

“You said that already.”

“I know, I'm just saying it again for emphasis. I hope you're taking care of yourself too.”

You feel him shift in his seat, fatigue rattling his bones that's exacerbated by the rocking movement.

“Do you feel alright?” You ask, looking over your shoulder. His eyebrows are furrowed, sweat dribbling from his forehead.

“‘m fine.”

“You don't look fine. Riding bareback this long hurts, we can switch places—”

“It would be better if you had your own horse.” Hobie groans, stretching his shoulders. Buckeye seems to notice the conversation, huffing and staring back at his rider. “‘m not replacing you, Bucky. Not yet anyway.”

The dark horse neighs, a high pitched sound that makes you laugh. “He was not happy with that.”

“He's not happy with anythin'” Hobie shakes his head at the horse, you're amused by the whole situation. “Picky eater, always demanding sugar cubes instead of a carrot or an apple. Fuckin' spoiled.” Bucky neighs again, louder this time, clearly annoyed.

“Just like his rider.” You giggle, Hobie stifles a roll of his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his pierced lips. “Careful with your comments or he might buck you off and have me as his rider instead.”

Hobie's amusement fades, his eyes hardens, a sight that has your heart thrumming loudly, a sight that you're very familiar with back at home.

“I‘m sorry— I–I didn't mean to.” You frantically apologize, shaking your head, hand reaching for his own, palm hovering over his gloves.

“Look ahead.” He gestures forward. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.”

“Are you sure?” You can't seem to slow down your breathing.

Hobie notices, blinking, he tentatively takes your hand in his. Squeezing once, jade eyes searching your hurt face. Guilt passes through him.

He should've come back for you.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly, slowing down Bucky's steps. “Breathe for me, yeah?” You nod, inhaling and exhaling. “Good, keep doin' that.” Inhale, exhale, “atta girl. Now listen to me, I need you to hold on tight, and do what I say.”

“What's wrong?” Did you do something wrong again? You hold on tight just like he asked.

“Eyes up front, sweetheart.” The floodgates open, he can't stop himself from calling you those honeyed names. And you can't stop looking at him. With a gentle hold to your chin, he carefully moves it forward. You see five people waving you over further down the road. They're accompanied by a broken down carriage, three wheels missing, no oxen in sight, just a few horses hitched near them.

They call you over, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh thank God!” You hear them say, their forms getting closer and closer.

“They need help.” You say, Hobie's hand around the reins tightens.

“And we're not goin' to give it to ‘em.”

“What? Why?”

“That's bait, we're not fallin’ for it.” His eyes don't leave the strangers’ hands.

“Bait—? They genuinely look like they need help.”

“We're close to town, and they have horses. They could've gone over there instead of flagging down an armed stranger.”

“I'm not armed.”

“Yes, but I am.” With a swift kick, Hobie guides Buckeye to a mad dash. Your back hits his chest from the sudden momentum. A dull ache on your spine, a tingling sensation on his ribs.

Buckeye passes by the broken carriage, leaving dust in their eyes. “C’mon, Bucky! Get us out of ‘ere, boy!”

Wind in your eyes, you look behind, your heart falls in your stomach when you see them follow immediately on their horses, guns drawn, aiming at Hobie.

“Oh fuck!” A bullet whizzes past your head, missing you by just a few inches. You feel it's hot searing metal fly past, “they're shooting at us! Why the fuck—!”

Hobie twists, with one hand on the reins, and the other on his gun, he shoots down one man with precision. The bullet hits its mark, right in his heart. A fountain of crimson splashes from his wounded body, his feet still strapped in the stirrups, flinging the now lifeless body around like a window shutter in a storm.

Hobie shoots again, a horse falls, another bullet, and one gets iron in their gullet. And another and another, one on the leg and one on the shoulder, but they still ride on. Until Hobie's gun clicks, its chamber now empty, in slow motion, you see the remaining survivors use the opportunity to aim at Hobie's head. With quick thinking, you twist uncomfortably, body stretching behind to grab the hunting rifle strapped on Bucky's back. Within a second, you sit upright with the barrel pointing at them.

Hobie sees it all happen while he frantically reloads. His gun jams from carelessness, heart beating like a snare drum, fingers frantically trying to fix it. The sun is in his eyes as he sees you cock your head over his shoulder, the long barrel of the rifle is placed atop his leather jacket, finger itching to press the trigger.

“Duck.” Your voice is calm as Hobie follows through your command, the firing pin ignites, sparks fly, the smell of gunpowder permeates the air, bullet whizzing and hitting your mark— Right in between the eyes.

Gore explodes from what used to be a head, then a scream from the remaining target. Hobie steers Bucky, whilst you fight. Fight for him, and for yourself.

Pulling the bolt handle, without missing a beat you release the shell with a clink of metal. The remaining man looks at his dead companion in horror, still riding on next to him, now missing a head. Just like they did, you use the opportunity to reload, hand reaching for Hobie's gun belt, taking what you need, reloading with an expert hand. You pull the bolt to place the bullet, pushing it in, you aim once again. At the same time, the man screams, aiming at you. But you're faster.

Inhale. You shoot, hand steady, eyes focused.

A wet squelch can be heard, then a body thuds harshly on the ground as a horse neighs, crying and trotting wildly. You finally exhale. Hobie reins Bucky in, hooves digging in, he stops.

“Holy shit.” Hobie stares at you with a growing smile, cheeks aflame, not from the adrenaline nor the fight. “You can shoot.”

“You taught me.” Your eyes doesn't leave the violence you left behind.

“Yeah, but not like that!” He laughs in disbelief. His heart hammers in his chest, and he remembers all the times he held your hand in his while he teaches you the basics.

“What do you think I've been doing since you left?” You swallow thickly, nerves catching up, hands trembling around the rifle. “My books can only take me so far until I've read the entire library.”

Hobie holds your cheek, face concerned, thumb running along the tear you don't notice slide down your cheek. “Can you look at me, lovie?”

Slowly but surely, you turn your head. “We manufacture guns, Hobie, it's important for me to learn.”

“I know, but shootin’ it at people is different.” He would know, he worked at the same place. “Are you alright?”

“Now you ask me that?” You hand him the rifle, breath shuddering. “Can we go now, please?”

Hobie could only nod, hand itching to hold you again.

—

You finally reach Strawberry, it has a sweet sounding name but it's anything but sweet. The streets are thick with mud, the smell is much better than the other town but it still makes your nose itch. The place is situated on the foot of a mountain, the air is cooler with heavy winds persisting. Rows and rows of establishments lie along the road, a saloon with a balcony on your right, a doctor's office on your left. Convenient, you think.

A brothel sits next to the saloon, women gathered around on the porch, smiling and hollering at the people who pass by. Hobie garners their attention, (who wouldn't be?) despite riding with you on the same horse. He doesn't give them any attention, a disappointment on their part. His eyes are too busy looking over your profile and the inn that's situated on the hill.

You flick your eyes over to him, as if he has a sixth sense, he stares back. “What?”

“Nothing.” You whisper.

Hobie hides a small smile over your shoulder. He stops Buckeye at the front of the inn, hopping off, he hitches his horse first before giving you a hand, surprising you.

Without a second thought, you take his outstretched hand, bare against his leather clad one. You land carefully on the soft ground, cringing at the wet squelch of mud on your shoes.

“I need a bath,” you stomp over towards the porch and out of the mud. Hobie's hand finally leaves your side once you step foot on the steady planks. “And a nice bed.”

“That's why we're ‘ere.” He says while he takes his pack from Bucky's back. Giving the horse a pet and a much deserved sugarcube. He whispers something to the horse, to which Bucky neighs in reply. Stepping on the porch right next to you, the dark horse nods at his rider.

You laugh at them. “What'd you tell him?”

“I promised him a place at the stable so he could get a proper rest. ‘m gonna take him once you're inside.”

“Are you gonna leave me here?” Panic sets in your stomach.

Hobie furrows his brows, “no, ‘course not.” I'd never do that. He thinks, but he already did, years ago. “C’mon.”

Bucky neighs to you this time, tail swishing behind him. “G’night, Buck.” You give him a small wave. “You did a good job today.”

Entering the inn, the smell of pine and something fruity catches your nose. Its walls are all wooden, lined with old photos and animal furs. There's a fireplace in the common area where a couple of people sit and chat by the fire. The place is cozy, it's the first time you feel like you can finally have a nice comfortable place to sleep in since you landed in America.

Hobie knocks on the reception desk, leaning on the table, clearly tired and weary. Whilst you try not to think about what you did earlier, you roam your eyes everywhere in an attempt to push all the thoughts away, to kick the gore you saw, and the act that you've executed far far away from you. Your hand trembles at the sight of a deer head hanging on the wall. Then you remember the man whose head you blasted to pieces. Heart beating faster, breath stuck in your throat, Hobie suddenly takes your hand— squeezing, reminding you to breathe.

Before he could comfort you further, a middle aged man appears behind the desk. Shoulders broad, mustache well maintained and curled at the ends. Blue eyes wide and full of wisdom.

“Welcome to Strawberry inn.” He says in a comfortable yet deep tone. His eyes flick towards your intertwined hands, lips smiling faintly. “The name's Finn, room for one?”

Hobie clears his throat, taking his hand back on his side. “Yes, two beds.”

“Ah, a conservative couple eh?”

“Sure,” Hobie acts, nodding along.

“Name?”

“Larry Smith. And baths for the missus and I.”

Finn nods, showing him a sign on his desk. “three dollars for a regular one, five for a deluxe bath.”

“Deluxe?” You ask, curious.

Hobie beats Finn to the punch by explaining it himself. “It's when a woman helps you scrub down.”

You blink twice in quick succession. “Oh.” Cheeks warm, you awkwardly bounce on your feet. “A–are you going to take the deluxe one, Ho–Larry?”

“I might.” He says with a smirk, eyes shining.

“Okay.” You crane your neck towards Finn, “what's our room number?” Your tone inches towards something that has Hobie amused.

“Uh, three—” You're already snatching the keys from him and then quickly speed walking up the stairs. You turn to the right, Finn calls after you. “Left side, ma’am.” Frustrated, you walk the other way. He then turns towards Hobie with a shake of his head. “Happy wife, happy life, english. Don't tease her like that or you'll end up sleeping in the stables.”

Hobie bites his tongue so he couldn't laugh. “I know that now, thanks, mate.”

—

You feel nice, nicer than you should be after what you did. There's a pebble inside you that keeps growing and growing in the pit of your stomach right next to the boulder that has resided there for years. You have no idea what is, but you want it gone just like how you disappear under the tepid water of the tub.

Hobie has laid out clothes for you, it sits on the chair in the corner. A white work shirt that smells like him and a pair of clean socks. Your skirt hangs on the doorway, days worth of dirt and dust clinging to it. The walls are thin, you hear the hinges squeak in the next room, the arguing couple above; and a child's cry from below. The water laps at your chin, now cold and icy on your slowly freezing skin. Like muscle memory, you hold your hand up, the jagged long scar across the back of your hand has you tracing the remnants of the injury— what he used to do to remind you that he's there, that you're safe. But when he left, when he disappeared into the night, leaving you to the horrid predetermined life, you had to do it yourself. You had to carry yourself everyday with the heavy boulder in your heart, surviving each day without him, hurting, rotting in that damned empty mansion you never asked for.

You thought you could finally take the boulder out of you and place it down once and for all when you saw him. it's still there, weighing you down like a hundred ton steel of grief and longing. You don't resent him for what he did, running away, leaving you when the night before he promised you sweet words, words of freedom, words of an escape. No, you don't hate him. Yes, there's days where you would curse his name, but it never lasts. It never does, even now. You still love him even when he doesn't feel the same way anymore.

Your eyes prick from all the unshed tears, everything makes you cry nowadays, even the old lonesome man you met on the road brought a tear to your melancholy eyes. But you can't seem to find the courage to cry in front of him, to let him see your salty tears flow out of you like a raging river of sorrow. And moreso, you're afraid, afraid of home, afraid of what's waiting for you at the end of the road. Whether it be a coyote with its maw opening to lunge at your neck. Or a rattlesnake ready to strike silently at your open wound.

You're not afraid of him, you're afraid to lose him again to the coyotes and rattlesnakes.

Lifting both hands, you watch the blood that collects within the lines of your palms. Rubies ebbing into your life line, your love lines, and into your death— you'd carry the life you've taken until you're six feet underground, decaying, milky bones turning to dust, food for the worms. And yet, the blood in your hands would stay there, even when your hands are eaten by the soil, brought back to where you once came.

Hobie's right, this place changes you. Molds you into something that can survive its harsh environment, just like the plants you once read about. And just like the coiling vines, the flowers that wait and bite their prey; the leaves that kill when cut— you intend to survive the harshness of it all.

With a deep inhale, you leave the metal tub. Water splashes across the floor as you stand up, the even colder air leaves goosebumps in its wake. You dry yourself and dress like an automaton, movements rigid, eyes blank.

Opening the door with a creak, you're met with Hobie standing in the hallway, just across from you. His hand still lingers around the doorknob, viridescent eyes blinking slowly at you.

For a second that felt like hours, you watched each other. How his eyes flick over your form and over his work shirt that you wear. How water still clings to his chest, soaking parts of his white shirt. And how his finger twitches around the doorknob whilst steam escapes from the slits in the doorway. He observes you with vigilant eyes, how your lips are slightly parted, chest breathing heavily. And how much your legs are begging to run towards him, feet pointed in his direction, heels lifted up slightly, but you don't. You don't run to him, instead, you toss him the keys to the room before he could ask for it himself. He catches it with ease.

“You're closer to the room.” Walking closer, you rub your arms for warmth.

Hobie sniffs, hand wiping a stray droplet from his forehead, pack slung over his shoulder. He unlocks the door that's a few steps away, with a click, he opens it for you.

“You look like you're about to pass out.”

You push past him, trying to smile, but you fail. “I feel like I will in a second—” pausing by the doorway, you sharply inhale. “You asked for two beds right?”

“Yeah— fucker.” Hobie clicks his tongue at the sight of the single bed standing in the room. “I'll go get our rooms changed.”

“I'm fucking tired, Hobs.” You lumber your way towards the inviting bed, too tired to even check the room and its sparse décor. “Complain tomorrow. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before.”

“That was different—”

“How is it any different?” Shucking off your shoes, you blink at him through tired eyes. “It's just sleeping next to each other. We were doing anything but that back then.”

He curses breathlessly under his breath. “Fine, don't hog the blanket.”

“Don't kick in your sleep.” You smile for the first time since you pulled the trigger. Slithering inside the warm covers, you lay your head on the lumpy pillows. Heaven to you after sleeping but nothing on the ground or hay for the past few weeks.

“I don't kick in my sleep.” Hobie does the same, laying next to you, giving you enough space in between. “You're the one who kicks in your sleep. Like a fuckin' donkey.”

You lay on your side, inching closer to him. “Please, I'm more of a mustang, not a donkey.”

“Back then you were more like the rider than a horse.” He jokes with a smug smile across his lips.

Your cheeks are aflame, laugh creeping up your throat. The heaviness in your chest subsides, the blood in your hands thins. “You wanna bet?”

Hobie's joking expression is replaced by something else. Flustered, amused, and a mix of an emotion that he has only felt for you. “Fuckin' hell, love.” He turns away from you, lest he lets his thoughts get to him. “Good night, you fuckin' minx.” He hears you laugh, immediately he wants to turn back around and meet you face to face, just like before. But he doesn't.

You're met with his back. The feeling comes back, like a cockroach that wouldn't die even with how much you try to stomp on it. It was foolish to think that he'd love you forever. It was foolish to think that he'd greet you with open arms after years of being apart. How foolish, they'd always whisper to you, naive, and stupid, always standing on the edge of the crowd, eyes always looking for something, someone. Someone that lays before you now.

“Good night, Hobie.” He mouths your next words like clockwork. “Only dream of good things.” You refrain from doing the next thing, a kiss for sweet dreams, a whisper of the three words to remind him of you in the dreamworld.

Hobie silently wishes you did.

Soon enough, soft snores can be heard from behind him. Peeking over his shoulder, he makes sure you're asleep before quietly standing up. Sheets rustling, he tiptoes over the noisy planks, breathing silent. Hobie takes a chair from the corner, propping it under the doorknob, shaking the chair, he makes sure that it's locked up tightly. He can never be sure with the simple singular lock on the door.

Once he's sure that it will hold up, he takes his gun from the hanging gun belt, checking the chamber, he keeps it on the waistband of his trousers. After checking all the windows and the fireplace, he finally joins you back in bed. Gun placed on the bedside, ready to be used just in case. Laying on his side, he faces you, observing how the moon shines just across your face. You look peaceful, relaxed, and he remembers how much he has missed you. Like an impossible itch. A craving that cannot be satiated. Incurable, until you're within reach.

His tired eyes stare at the glaring scar across the back of your hand. Hobie remembers how you got the scar on your hand, it was warm that day, searing hot whilst you ran into the woods frantically to meet him. As a result of your unmindful actions, a sharp branch takes a chunk of your skin; leaving him to sew it close for you. He reminisces of how your face contorts to pain with every suture, and how you grip his shoulder to tamp down your screams. He wasn't careful, or even thinking about how it would scar, he just wanted to get it over with so you'd stop hurting. He held you for hours after, held you more after your great aunt saw the damage. She called you broken that day.

He blinks and he's back to the present. He can never go back. You can never go back. So he inches his hand closer to yours, pinky brushing along your skin. Finally, he curls his pinky finger around your ring finger. Linking his life line to yours. Just like he always does to the identical hidden ring around his neck. Your scar peers from the side, a reminder that everything that happened before was real. That all those saccharin touches and words were flesh and blood. He wishes he could go back, to take you away the moment she called you broken.

In his sleep he dreams of you.

[reloaderror]

growing up w a sibling who is exponentially better looking than you really does irreparable damage to your self esteem huh

[thatblackravenclaw]

The Jealousy Game

Masterlist

Draco Malfoy x slytherin!fem!reader

word count: 991

warning(s): cursing, tiny bit of angst, tiny bit of fluff, reader doesn't like Pansy, two stubborn idiots

reader wears this dress to the yule ball but you can choose something else if you want:

“I’m not playing this game with him Zabini.” I say with exhaust.

“You started the game! How are you not playing?”

“Because I gave up long ago. I just wanted him, and he wanted me to chase, and I never chase. I get chased, so I’m done. When he stops being a bitch let me know.” I say while turning and walking to my room.

I go to my room to get a break from all things Malfoy until I remember that I share a room with his number 1 fan. I’m in there all but 10 seconds before she goes on one of her little rants.

“He asked me to the ball.”

I freeze. I feel my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach. He could’ve gone with anyone else.

“I think I’m gonna go with pink. Not really my favorite color but I think Draco will like it.”

I begin to zone out. The son of a bitch asked out my roommate. Okay.

I make up some bullshit excuse to Pansy and go back to the common area. Blaise is sat there with Draco and Crabbe, looking annoyed and bored as ever. He might not like this idea, but I know it’ll make me smile.

“Blaise?” I feign a demure tone.

He looks back at me. He knows something is up. I can tell by the look in his eyes.

“Yes Miss l/n?”

I walk in front of him and sit on his lip, very thankful that he’s on the end but next to Draco. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and look in his eyes. Giving off the best “in love” look I can muster.

“Would you mind accompanying me to the yule ball this weekend?”

My eyes shift to Draco real quick. His nostrils flare.

“I’d be delighted.” He teases. Only a tone him and I pick up on.

Draco gets up in a huff which in turn makes me smile. Crabbe goes after him like the little follower that he is.

When I’m sure we're alone I get off of Blaise's lap and sit next to him.

"Thought you were tired of playing games with him?"

"I'm tired of playing his game. I’m glad you said yes.”

“Only because I’m tired of both of y’all. The quicker you guys date, the quicker your games end. So, why did you make this big declaration of love in front of them?”

“Because he asked pug face to the dance. I know he only did it to try and make me jealous, so I asked out his best friend.” I say with a shrug.

“And what makes you think that I’m his best friend?”

“Considering the way he looked when I asked you, I would say that you’re his best friend.”

“He does that with everyone that asks you out.”

I roll my eyes at this.

“I’m wearing pink, but you don’t have to. Just wear your black dress robes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

-.-.-.-.-

The night of the ball

I’m glad Pansy left before me. A moment of peace before I have to see her with Draco. The longer I stare in the mirror the more confident I feel. It’s probably a big dress for this event, but go big or go home right?

There’s a knock on my door who I assume is Blaise, so I tell him to come in. I turn around when I hear the door close.

“Wow. You look great y/n.” He says with what I sense is pure sincerity in his voice.

“Mm, you’re not in love with me too, are you?”

“You wish. Come on. Everyone is downstairs.” He says with his hand out.

I give him mine and we walk out the door. I’m not going to lie, I’m quite nervous but I’m confident this is gonna work.

Once we make it to the staircase, I peak around the corner, making sure that everyone is down there. I look back at Blaise. He squeezes my hand, and we start walking down the stairs. I feel everyone’s eyes on us. I look subtly look for a certain blonde and sure enough he’s next to Miss Frilly Pepto Bismol and look directly at me.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Blaise leans his mouth towards my ear.

“Now what?” He asks.

I lean back and look into his eyes.

“We dance.” I smile and then drag him into the dance floor.

-.-.-.-

I don’t remember a time where I’ve had so much fun. At some point I just completely stopped paying attention to Draco. That was until a slow song began to play.

Blaise guides my hands to his shoulders and then his rests on my waist. I give him a puzzled look and he tells me to just trust him, and I do.

As we sway, I move my head to lay on his shoulder.

“I don’t think your plan is working.” I murmur to him.

We sway for a few more seconds before I feel a hand grab my arm. I’m about to fight back when I realize who it is. He brings us outside and I take this as my chance to move out of his grip.

“What do you want ferret.” I ask.

“My best friend, really?”

“My roommate, really?” I ask in an equally irritated tone.

“I’m not playing this game with you anymore.” He says, looking away from me.

“You’re just mad that I’m winning.”

No words about spoken for about a minute. The anger in his eyes disappearing with each passing second.

“Can we start over?” He asks without breaking eye contact. They soften completely when he gets the words out.

“Will you admit I won?” I say as I raise one eyebrow.

“I’ll consider it.”

“Me too.” I reply with a smirk. He matches it.

He holds out his hand. I grab it and we return to our house.

[eternqlvestigiql]

Okay I’m gonna rant. Listen up, ya’ll. This is my take. I’m not gonna be like, “Don’t send any hate to me, I can’t handle it” because you should be mature enough to know not to send someone hate if you’re a fucking social media user.

Also, I’m sorry if my grammar is pathetic I haven’t been touching it up for a while 🥲 please forgive me.

And absolutely no offence to anyone. You dis/liking a character is completely under your authority! :)

(Jeez I made this rant a bit too personal, I apologise in advance. 😭)

With that said, I’ll begin.

I see everyone all over the Internet that’s just like, “I hate Abuela, she treated Mirabel like hot trash. Her past trauma is not a reason for her to do so.” Yes, she treated Mirabel like hot trash and her past trauma is not an excuse for that behaviour of hers. But I don’t understand why people just stop there and proceed to just hate her instead of trying to understand something.

And I fucking hate the way people just divide characters into two columns where one they absolutely love and the other they absolutely hate. So they’ll just start thinking more and more about the characteristics and personalities of their favs and then just shit on the ones they hate without a logical base.

Yes she treated Mirabel like hot trash. And when I tell you I hated that scene. I fucking mean it. I hated it, with every fibre of my heart, with every micrometer of my body, I fucking hated her in that scene. I hated her.

But, do you guys realise that’s the whole damn point of her character? She’s such a good representation of some of our older family members. And I’m not going to generalise, but almost all of us have been there where our elders pressure us to the point we burnout to death but still keep going out of love, respect and fear for our family. For our elders. And when we open up about the fact that they have favourites, or the fact they’re pressuring us, or even point out a tiny mistake of theirs, they fucking hate it. And they say we’re talking back or disrespecting them. Because they lived a life longer than you, there’s no way they can make even a teeny tiny error, right?

Well, that’s their logic. Again, I don’t want to generalise. But when I talk about this with my friends, almost all of the agree to this. Almost every. single. one of them.

And they just never will admit to making a mistake. No, they have egos possibly larger than this universe which will just make them act like they’re these perfect human beings that won’t make mistakes. At all. And no! I’m not disrespecting you by pointing out a mistake. Yes, thank you for taking care me since my first day on this planet. Thank you for working hard and earning to feed me and some others and to spend on my education. I really, truly, am grateful for that. But that doesn’t make you incapable of making a mistake.

And, for them, it’s either you do your best or your worst. And that’s it. There’s never a “It’s okay, you have a limit. Don’t push yourself. Rest now.” No, it’s always “Either you’re your best version or your worthless. That’s all you are.”

This is what Abuela’s character is. You could see her controlling mannerism in so many scenes, like her telling Pepa to control her emotions and get rid of a cloud, which at one point is just tough as hell, no matter how much of a pro you are at controlling your emotions; and the way she picks out just the white flower from Isabella’s hair during the scene where she’s asks Dolores for a good day for Mariano’s proposal, because she’s supposed to be perfect. Or even the way she just thought Bruno was the bad guy (just like the rest of the town) just because he told them what he saw in his visions. She was that kind of parent. The one that keeps pushing her kids to the point they burnout. And she doesn’t even realise it, because she’s so blinded by her priority to keep the magic safe so that they prosper.

She took this oath to serve her community and protect them and make sure nothing happens to the magic that came to her hands. Her main intention was to protect the magic, so much so she was completely blind to the fact that her kids and grandkids were humans with physiological limits.

And she started completely taking it out on her own granddaughter when the magic was becoming weak. Just because she saw a vision and didn’t take the time to understand it carefully. And that was when we saw the entire house fall apart. When she was shitting on Mirabel like that, because she didn’t have a gift and the assumption from the vision that Mirabel’s the reason the magic was dying.

BUT

Maybe you guys didn’t notice Abuela’s face when Mirabel confronted her. She wasn’t angry anymore. It was more of a guilty shock. (The only reason I’m calling it guilt was that’s kind of the only way her apology would make sense to me). That was probably when she realised she was at fault.

And at least she realised her mistake. And she apologised. She sincerely apologised. For an actual catastrophe that she caused without knowledge. She accepted her mistake. And she apologised (to Mirabel first, then her entire family) for her mistake. She admitted that she pushed her kids beyond their limit. She fucking admitted it.

AND I LOVE THAT ARCH! You know why? Because she’s a 70+ woman who could’ve possibly said a sorry in the most casual manner by using her past trauma as a reason for her actions or just the simple fact that she’s lived longer or whatever shit. But she didn’t. And if you have the kind of elders whom I spoke about in the previous paras, then you probably know how hard it must be to even try to get an apology out of them. Like jeez, it’s not even that hard. Nor is it shameful. Idk why they find it so hard to apologise to their younger ones. Like bro, do you realise that’s a much bigger, a better and quite a respectable move than being a total *** and not apologising?

And maybe her arch was kinda dry and took place in a really short span amidst the plot, but the amount of hate she’s receiving is a bit too much. She had quite a respectable arch, and I think that’s pretty cool.

So, in conclusion, I don’t like Abuela, nor do I hate her. But she’s getting too much hate in spite of having a pretty decent redemption arch. And I thought I’d just get my point straight. :)

[icequeenbae]

Stay with Me (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Long-distance relationship, established relationship, grumpy Baek, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, upset sex (is there such a thing), oral (f receiving), consent is not explicitly stated but implied

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: Baekhyun was upset because you had to leave again. His frustration made things escalate to an unexpected extent. He might’ve just wanted to make you late for the plane though.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Let’s celebrate my first ‘writing comeback’ anniversary together ❤❤❤  [February 17, 2020 – forever]

Author’s Note: Soooo… This was actually the first fic I wrote after many years of my writer’s coma. Wasn’t going to post it, but it’s important to save the date. A year ago during a business trip I was listening to Baekhyun’s ‘Stay Up’ in the backseat of a cab, and it suddenly got to me in a very new and profound way. As soon as I got to the hotel, the doc was created. Countless sleepless nights later, I can admit that I haven’t really stopped writing ever since.

Baekhyun isn’t just my bias or my favourite character to write, he’s so much more special to me than that. I’m not sure how long this journey is going to last or where it leads me, but so far he’s gifted me with one full year of this magic. He’ll always have a precious spot in my heart 🤍

Okay, done with the sappy times now (no). As usual – big thanks to @baekshoney​​​ for having a look, and I hope you guys enjoy this little oneshot!

This was one of those days. One of the days you hated, and Baekhyun didn’t do much to make it better for you. On the contrary, he was sulking since early morning. First, because you’d left him alone in bed and he woke up being cold. Then he just kept getting annoyed with everything. Why were you having coffee for breakfast again, when you should sleep on the plane? Why weren’t you packing snacks, when the airport food always made your stomach upset? You should’ve definitely worn one of his hoodies, since none of yours were warm and comfy enough, did he have to remind you?

Yes, this was the day you had to fly back home, leaving him behind once again. Which was exactly what brought his tsundere ways to the surface. He was just… upset.

‘Baby, it’s not the first time I’m going home, I’ll be fine,’ you grinned at his grumpy expression and poured him a cup of coffee as soon as he sat his butt down on the kitchen stool.

Baekhyun wasn’t exactly subtle in how he felt about you going away. The two of you had been doing this ‘long-distance thing’ since the very beginning of your relationship. You’d met during your first ever trip to Korea around two years ago and instantly clicked – just like that – not spending a single day without at least a quick message exchange with one another.

It was tough at times. There was no way for you to see each other more frequently, and you were often apart for months. Granted, you were keeping in touch religiously – texting every single day, having video calls every other night (whenever you could manage the schedules and time zones), posting ambiguous pictures on social media only for each other to understand. Still, you missed each other so terribly…

‘I don’t understand why you have to go anyway, you can just stay here with me,’ Baekhyun grumbled, eyeing the kitchen floor with a frown. You pursed your lips to contain the coo about to fly out of your mouth at how cute he was, pouting and complaining. Like an angry little bird. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out your hand and ruffled his already messy bedroom hair.

The way his nose scrunched up meant he wasn't in the mood to be playful. You sighed and leaned on the corner of the kitchen table.

‘You know I have work to get back to, Bae, I can’t be on vacation all year long.’

He was being rather childish about your departure, especially when you were already fully dressed and ready to go. The only thing stalling you was that Chanyeol, who insisted on being your ride to the airport today, hadn’t come to pick you up just yet, giving you some time to smooth over your boyfriend’s feathers.

Truth be told, you were only holding up the appearances for him. It was very possible that you were even more upset about having to go than he was. In fact, every time your week or two together were nearing an end, you felt nauseous at the thought that you wouldn’t be able to see his face, or hold his hand, or feel his warm breath on your skin, or kiss the tiny mole on his cheek.

In all honesty, you were... a mess. You only displayed yourself as calm and collected during your goodbyes because you knew his moodiness was merely a tactic to conceal his pain. So, you tucked your own feelings away to make it a bit more manageable for him. In reality, you broke down as soon as you arrived home and walked into your lifeless apartment. Each time, you had to find excuses and avoid talking to him via video messengers during those initial weeks, pretending to suddenly be swamped at work. You realized that seeing your eyes all red and puffy from crying every night would most definitely break his heart and worsen his longing. That you knew, because seeing him unhappy was excruciating. You wanted more than anything to deliver him from any further suffering.

It took all of your self-restraint not to reach out for his warm embrace or let the tears flow freely. He’d probably not let you go then, always telling you to just stay with him anyways. But you were both adults and had commitments, although hundreds and thousands of miles apart.

As your eyes were beginning to prick from observing his state and getting overwhelmed with your own feelings, you decided it was safer to move out ten minutes early, despite the call from Yeol not coming through yet. Anything to not let Baekhyun see you cry or cling to him desperately the way you wished to in that moment.

‘Well, you can pout all you want, I’m going to get my stuff,’ you said in an airy tone trying to elevate his mood slightly.

‘No.’

He stopped you in your tracks, grabbing your wrist. You gazed at him, confused as to what he meant. He was still looking down, eyebrows knitted together and chest heaving with almost anxious breaths.

‘Bae?’

‘No,’ he repeated, softer this time, but still not making eye contact with you. Instead, he tugged at your wrist and pulled you closer to him. You felt his grasp weaken until your wrist was free, however, your waist was not. His arms snaked around it, and he pulled you into himself, basically nuzzling his face into your chest.

‘Baekhyun?’ You squeaked, doing your best to fight off the goosebumps that littered your skin immediately after the contact. Your body never once asked for permission to react to him, and this time was no exception. His right hand traveled down your spine to the curve of your ass as his nose nudged one of your breasts. You shivered, grabbing at his shoulders, and he suddenly growled, knowing, sensing that your nipples had already perked up underneath the fabric of your bra.

Although he was trying to put you into one of his many oversized hoodies all the time, it was summer, so you were wearing a sundress (like any sane person would). Lucky for Baekhyun, this type of clothing made it even easier for him.

He rose from his seat and hoisted you up so abruptly that you only managed to yelp and grab at his neck for balance. You were then placed on the empty side of the dining table away from the leftover breakfast. Looking down at where your boyfriend’s hands were, you watched him frantically pull your dress up, before coming to your senses and trying to stop him.

‘Bae… What are you doing? Yeol is gonna be here any minute, we can’t just f…ugh!’ You cried out in surprise as he yanked your hips forcefully up to his face, completely ignoring your words. There’s no way he was going to...

‘Baekhyunie, please stop, you know I’m going to be late, what is…’ He didn’t even let you finish your rant, leaving a trail of insistent wet kisses upon the sensitive skin along the panty line while leading up to your protruding hip bone. Breath caught up in your throat, you couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out even if you wanted to. Did you really want to? With his head right there between your thighs, his dark burning eyes looking at you – completely immobilized by him – in the most intense and intimate way possible. His lips were glistening after he ran his tongue over them habitually, and when he leaned in and licked at your still clothed center, you belatedly realized that you weren’t even breathing. The realization only came with the wheezing gasp you’d let out, when your legs wrapped around his head as if on cue. Like fuel to the fire, your responsiveness only spurred him on. You didn’t even have time to realize that your boyfriend had already moved your panties out of the way when his impatient lips were on you again.

‘B- Baekhyun…’ You muttered, reaching your hand down to give pushing his head away a feeble try. ‘We can’t do this now, please stop... the airport…’

His ears seemed deaf to your reluctant pleas as he only employed more of his tongue to make you lose the last bits of your sober mind completely, melting and thrashing underneath his touch. He eased one of your thighs off of his shoulder, pushing it up and spreading you out before diving back in, paying no attention to your increasingly disheveled state.

At this point you could only sob, speech incoherent, all attempts to push him away or close your legs futile. And that alone made him grow feverish with the need to be inside you, to feel you once again before he had to let you go.

He was really good with his mouth, as usual, so by the time one of his hands left your thigh to tease you a little further with his long deft fingers you were so ready to take more that you barely registered the burn of two digits sliding inside. You were still a little sore from the night before, which you’d spent making love for hours on end, knowing that you won’t be touching each other anytime soon. But that was meaningless now.

His tongue expertly swirled around your clit, while his wrist found a familiar angle that always made you get vocal. Your back arched instantly as you cried out his name, barely grasping that you were still tugging at his soft locks and possibly causing discomfort. It was clear that your release was mere seconds away with your legs shaking and inner muscles clenching, and that was exactly where Baekhyun wanted you. Aching for his touch, needing him as much as he needed you. Just the two of you, caught up in the act of lustful desperation.

He’d worked his tongue diligently, almost pushing you over the edge by sucking on your most sensitive spot for just a second, and... then you suddenly felt him pull away.

‘No, no- what?’ You could barely form sentences, let alone complain, but your frenzied tone made his already rock-hard flesh twitch. His pants were down in seconds, and there wasn’t even a thought of pausing to get a condom on or cool off a little bit. You were both on the verge of getting overwhelmed by this passionate longing when... your phone suddenly lit up, indicating an incoming call. Before you could snap out of the moment you were having, Baekhyun had you flat on your back, all slick and ready for him to push inside. And that he did — in one quick and rough movement, filling you up and giving you no time to even make a sound before his hips tested you out with a couple of low amplitude thrusts. The table moved slightly, soft clanking of tableware falling on deaf ears. Meanwhile, Baekhyun grabbed onto your hips, lifting your ass in the air for more control over the penetration.

‘Baek, I swear… You have like 2 minutes before Chan-’ A vicious thrust reached further than before, definitely getting your friend’s name out of your mind for good. And anything else for that matter.

Baekhyun snapped his hips as if he wanted to get as deep as humanly possible, as if he wanted to literally ruin you, and you could only scratch at his forearm while losing yourself in the feeling of his hips colliding with yours and the delectable sounds the action produced.

‘Baby,’ Baekhyun suddenly breathed out hoarsely, eyebrows knitted together as if in pain, ‘I can’t hold it off-’

Hearing his voice so strenuous and somehow vulnerable, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, spreading your legs further apart to allow him to better angle his powerful thrusts.

Your limbs were starting to grow numb and the veins on your neck popped when you moaned, and that’s when Baekhyun let out a strained ‘ah’, holding you in place by the hips to give you his erratic final thrusts.

In that moment you felt like something snapped inside you. Your core was tight around your lover’s cock, your body shaking in pre-orgasmic bliss, and you’d never experienced it this way. You felt so full and content in this moment when he was still moving his hips and groaning stiffly above you, riding out his high. There was nothing else he needed to do to take you along. The sensation of his warmth inside you made you pulsate, wailing so loudly that Baekhyun had to cover your mouth with his palm. He kept going for a bit to prolong your orgasm and let you slowly come back to your senses.

Your eyes stared vacantly at the kitchen ceiling and your throat was dry, although Baekhyun’s hand was still clasped over your mouth. When both of you managed to catch your breath, you just gazed at each other for a few long moments. You were so spent that you couldn’t even read the semi-blank expression on his face. He slowly slipped his palm off of your face, still hovering over your body.

‘Baekhyunie…’ You murmured, touching his cheek gently. He was usually lowkey annoyed whenever you went on to kiss the little mole on his face instead of his lips. This time, however, he only lowered his head further to let you do your thing. You pressed your lips to the tiny dot on his skin, leaning back onto the table to find his eyes with your own.

‘I love you,’ he suddenly whispered in a broken voice, then cleared his throat and started over. ‘I really want you to stay with me.’

It was… bittersweet.

You winced, feeling him pull out, and accepted his help sitting up. Holding your boyfriend close by the shirt, you nudged his nose with yours and looked up to his sad dejected eyes.

‘I know, Bae,’ your voice sounded as uplifting as you could manage. ‘I will find a way to come see you on tour in the next couple of months, I promise.’

Baekhyun was about to say something else if not for the sudden ring of his phone that made both of you snap out of your tiny little world.

‘Dang, I bet it’s Yeol. Pick up!’ You pushed your boyfriend towards the phone and eased down from the table, grabbing the tissues to clean up quickly.

‘Yes,’ Baekhyun responded.

‘Are you two fucking?!’ Your nose scrunched up at Chanyeol’s vulgar shout.

‘Yes?’ At this you paused and smacked Baekhyun’s pec for the shameless (yet truthful) response. ‘Whoa- feisty. Chanyeol-ah, better hang up before you hear her- Ow!’ He raised an arm to defend himself from your playful hits.

‘You realize that if you do not come down in ten you’re most likely missing the flight?’ You heard Chanyeol reply after a frustrated sigh.

‘Not a problem for m-’ Baekhyun was interrupted by your yell.

‘We’re gonna be down in ten, please check the fastest routes to the airport, Yeolie!’

You ran out of the kitchen barely catching Baekhyun’s grumbling as he repeated after you.

‘Yeolie. Why the hell does she even call you that. It’s not like you- What? Shut up, you bastard!’

You smiled to yourself. At least his friends knew how and when to mess with him. If you weren’t there… They got him. He'd be okay. And with that you were happy for now.

A/N:This piece was my reintroduction to writing, and I’d love to hear any type of comments you have^^  Thank you guys for all the interaction and amazing responses so far, I cherish each and every one of them. You're the best <3

[k3rm1e]

hiiii i know i haz been lurk 🐮 Anoon for a good bitz but I haz an idea fro DadBoyHalo and Dadza(sepretz courze!!) havingz to take care of their very chaos childrenz(DadBoyHalo wif Sapnap + reader, Dadza with SBI + reader) ówò?

Thankz yuuuu!!!

-🐮 Anoon

dadboyhalo & friends

hiiii i know i haz been lurk 🐮 Anoon for a good bitz but I haz an idea fro DadBoyHalo and Dadza(sepretz courze!!) havingz to take care of their very chaos childrenz(DadBoyHalo wif Sapnap + reader, Dadza with SBI + reader) ówò?

Thankz yuuuu!!!

-🐮 Anoon

hello! sorry it took me so long to get back to you 🐮 anon! i’ve been busy but here’s this. i’m assuming you wanted canon bbh and canon sbi so i did this according to canon. i wrote the dadboyhalo one today and will be posting the dadza one tomorrow if that's okay! i went a lot off track with this one but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

dadboyhalo:

  bad did not anticipate acquiring two chaos children when he decided to take home the young kids he found in the nether. the demon himself was from the nather, and felt sympathy for the poor kids.

  he had just been strolling through the nether, trying to gather netherite to make armor for skeppy and himself when suddenly, he ran into two children. “oh, hello” he bent down, checking to make sure the two of you were okay. he ran all around the nether, trying to see if you had parents or anyone recognized you. and no one did. so, out of a misplaced sense of responsibility, he took the two of you to the overworld.

  quickly, he realized the two of you were not normal children. when you woke up, you started glowing, sending fire everywhere out of fear. the noise woke up sapnap, who also sent fire everywhere.

 “kids! please, stop sending fire everywhere!” bad was pleading for you guys to stop.

  skeppy, for some reason, ran in trying to help bad. “BAD I’LL SAVE YOU!” he launched two of bad’s homemade gluten free muffins at your heads. instantly, the flames went down as you each picked up a muffin and began munching on it.

  “SKEPPY! THAT’S CHILD ABUSE!” bad grabbed one of skeppy’s muffins and threw it at his head. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

  “WHY DOES THAT GIVE YOU AN EXCUSE TO COMMIT SKEPPY ABUSE!” he was holding his head in his hands, the muffins now on the floor.

  and that was how you became his muffin heads.

  for years, the you and sapnap remained chaotic beings. as babies, you burnt down more than half the furniture in the house. once the two of you got a bit older, it didn’t get any better. at school you and sapnap (mainly sapnap) would get in fights, making flames. after one too many occasions of this happening, you had finally been pulled out of school

  bad had taken you home after another altercation, sitting the two of you down on the couch. it was time for a stern talking to. “you gotta learn to control your flames, okay? you especially, sapnap. no more fights.”

  “sorry dad…” you muttered, puting your head down.

  “i’m not gonna apologize! especially not to that kid! he was being rude!” sapnap got in a fight with a kid named ‘dream’, who was making fun of the two of you for not knowing who your real parents are. this wasn’t the only time they had fought.

  “yes, you will sapnap. i’m sick of this constant fighting. you will apologize to how you treated that boy. i don’t care if he was being rude, you could’ve seriously injured him!”

  bad took you guys to his friends puffy’s house, to have a talk with her and dream. he apologized to both of them, after sapnap refused to say sorry.

  “i’m so sorry for my son's behavior. if there’s anything we can do at all to help, i’d be happy to.”

  “no, no its okay bad. i had dream here tell me what he was arguing with your kids about. i guess he was making fun of them for not knowing their birth parents. you have to understand, bad, he’s just insecure about not knowing his own. being here with foolish, he feels a bit left out.”

  with this information, you had formed a plan. that night, you and sapnap snuck out to dream’s.

  “dream! dream! wake up!” you were launching pebbles at his window, while sapnap made a tiny flame in his hand to create light.

about to lose hope, you looked up when a window was opened. “what do you want?” you could tell the boy was nervous, as he was averting eye contact with the two of you, sapnap especially. he was leaning out the window, holding onto the railing.

  “dream! wanna be friends?”

  and from there, you had made a new friend. it was the three of you, up until highschool. a new student, george, had arrived at the school. his group of friends, began making fun of the three of you. dream, being embarrassed, had put on a mask. instead of his usual, emotion filled face, you were left with an expressionless mask that was always smiling.

  after two months of constant bullying, george had attempted to apologize to you on his friend's behalf.

  “hey. i know we’re not friends. the furthest from it, actually. but i wanted to apologize. the way they, my friends, treat you, is wrong. i don’t hang out with them anymore. i was wondering if maybe we could try this again? reintroduce ourselves?” george was rubbing the back of his neck, hiding his eyes behind glasses. you were immediately brought back to the memory of asking dream to be your friends. but, instead of you asking, george was asking you this time.

  you tell sapnap was about to launch into a long rant, always ready to jump the gun and attack. you answered before he could ruin this. “i would love to try again with you, george. how about you sit with us for lunch?”

  and from here on, it was the four of you. and each of you made your dad’s life a living hell. causing trouble in school, fighting with wilbur and his little brother, fighting with each other, whatever you could do to cause trouble, you had done.

  “guys!! please!! stop running around, we have to get to your graduations!!”

  “sorry bad! we’re busy, being adults!” you were all running around the area, playing a very violent game of hide and seek. dream’s goal was to get to the school. all you, sapnap, and george had to do was stop him.

  after two hours of running around and chasing and fighting, dream had finally arrived at the school, winning the game. bad, skeppy, and puffy were the only ones left, sitting in the chairs set up at the field for parents to sit in. you all slowly walked up, knowing you were screwed.

  “so? did you guys have fun?” bad stared at you all, disappointed looking.

  you smiled, sweat gleaning in the setting sun and turned to your friends. sapnap was smiling wide next to you, his hair held back by a white piece of cloth dream used to hold up an old mask that had since been destroyed. george was laughing, looking up at the sky. he had no family to annoy in the beginning. now, he had the three of you to call home. for once, dream wasn’t being overly protective of his face. you could see a large grin going eye to eye under his mask. he hadn’t looked this happy in a long time.

  you looked back at your dad “yeah dad, we did.we did”

  at this, his face softened and he affectionately sighed. “you muffin heads...”