#feeling manic this month sorry it's all over the place

[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere roommate, Bottom head cannons ~

Yandere roommate who’s been stalking you for months waiting to pounce at the opportunity to get close to you, your old roommate sadly “moving away” randomly leaving you in a crunch to find a new one! You weren’t picky you were desperate and he was available and willing to pay over half the rent and expenses, a deal a young man such as yourself couldn’t deny.

Yandere roommate who places cameras in your shower right behind your shower head giving perfect view of your body as your hand glides over your pecs making your Yandere roommates mouth water watching you all flustered in his room with his laptop open, the sight of your muscular arms flexing and bulging as you wash your hair making the Yandere squirm around his stomach twitching and itching desperate to get you inside him.

Yandere roommate who always cleans up around the apartment making sure the dishes are done and the meals are made, even going as far as to make you lunches as he feeds the fantasy of being your “boyfriend” his head spinning being so close to you breathing in your scent having him dizzy and red in the face with him being completely delusional.

Yandere roommate who gets all pissed and psychotic when he sees you around any girls, he’s completely ballistic and the next day they are always found in a gruesome state since he wants to ensure “he’s the only one you have~”. The Yandere will always be so sweet and act so sympathetic to you over the women’s deaths but secretly thrilled you’re coming to him for comfort! Having you holding onto him all frustrated and upset makes him nearly pass out in glee.

Yandere roommate who steals a few of your things, stealing your hoodie or even your boxers. He keeps a box hidden away with all the things he’s stolen from you inside his closet obsessed with your scent the feeling of his delusional brain becoming so corrupted and twisted he imagines your things as “gifts~” to him making him fall more manic over the delusion of him being your boyfriend.

Yandere roommate who gets all pent up, when you’re at work or at your university he can’t help himself but to go to your room since it “smells” like you. His face buried in your pillows groaning and whining out as he stuffs two fingers into his loosened hole, pushing past his bud as he breaths in your scent doing his best to imagine your fingers reaching the best of depths inside him wanting you to the point his eyes well up with tears of desperation.

Yandere roommate who starts leaving himself in more skimpy clothing, you say his jeans look nice and those are suddenly his favorite jeans, wearing purposefully tight things that show every hip dip and thigh gap this man had. He makes sure to rub his ass right against your groin when squeezing past you making you let out a few labored grunts hiding your arousal while he murmur an innocent “I’m sorry!~” towards you

Yandere roommate who slowly gets you to fall for him. Getting you so pent up and horny for him that you can’t help yourself but to fuck him silly, his face shoved into the couch pillows with his back arched ass in the air as you grip his love handles for dear life like a pent up animal in rut as you heave on top of him holding him close all pinned down into the couch as the squelching sound of your cock stretching his slick rim open fills the apartment.

Yandere roommate who turns it into a habit doing his best to get you to fuck him anywhere everywhere to the point he can only drool getting fucked on your cock with his plush lips all agape his eyes widened and glossed over with lust as he barely musters out “Mhh fuck!, o-oh~ right there~~” as your cock head ravages and assaults his prostate making his puffy rim try to wink around you and greedily swallow more.

Yandere roommate who’s bent over the counter his boxers around his ankle as your hands grope the globes of his cheeks pressing your tongue against his rim watching hazily as it twitches only serving as fuel for you to delve past his bud with your tongue massaging his inner walls flicking against his bundle of nerves so much his cock just twitches all leaky pressed between the counter and his stomach while you drool sloppily down your own chin while eating his ass out.

[coryosbaby]

｡.｡♡ Dark! Ethan Landry Headcannons ｡.｡♡

(With bimbo! Reader)

Fandom: “ Scream vi ”

Pairing: Ethan Landry x fem! Reader

Cw: ghost face! Ethan, stalking, toxic relationships, nsfw !

A/n: I’m back with my Ethan fics 💞 I’m excited

— ♡ —

Dark! Ethan who’s eyes find yours in Econ class; it’s immediate, the way your face floods with heat and so does his. It’s an attraction the both of you can’t control.

Dark! Ethan who’s mind is occupied with you for the next week; when you ask him to tutor you, he’s completely ecstatic.

Dark! Ethan who helps you with your Econ work five days a week — you tell him he doesn’t have to do that, that one or two days is just enough, but he suggests that you deserve the best lessons possible.

Dark! Ethan who loves to pretend like you’re getting a few questions wrong so he can stay with you longer. He finds the way you bite on the end of your pink pen in frustration and nervously jiggle your sock clad thigh absolutely adorable.

Dark! Ethan who brings his head close whenever you want to know how to do a problem; his breath right up against your neck, a soft tone bubbling out of him as he says “yeah, just like that. There’s my good girl.”

Your head spins every time and your face flushes a deep pink.

Dark! Ethan who fucks you for the first time after months of pent up sexual arousal; you bend over and beg him to fuck your ass because you don’t want him to take your virginity just yet— Condoms never become a thing between the two of you, so he fills up your ass with his cum and pushes your panties back up after he’s had his fill.

Dark! Ethan who becomes your boyfriend; he’s gentle towards you. He buys you gifts and lets you sit in his lap a lot. He becomes your roommate/partner after a few months.

Dark! Ethan who loves when you scream out his name

Dark! Ethan who has you drenching his cock while his fingers are shoved down your throat; you beg him to stick them in, beg him to let you get choked and gag and drool all around him. He loves it.

“God, look at that. Little cum baby is drooling all over the place, isn’t she?”

You don’t know if he’s talking about your mouth or your cunt.

Dark! Ethan who loves to call you in full ghostface mode; you have no idea it’s him— how incredibly dumb you are! He calls you, with that sickeningly grating voice, and says that he can see you. You’re scared…

Dark! Ethan who approaches your room; clad in full ghostface attire, with a knife held in his grip.

Dark! Ethan who watches your shocked and terrified face… he makes degrading remarks at your stupidity, but his cock is so fucking hard that he almost can’t breathe under the plastic mask. Soon he tells you that if you don’t strip and fuck yourself on your bed while he watches, that you’ll be in big trouble. You don’t know it’s him still, and you feel so guilty — but not as much as you are wet.

Dark! Ethan who begins to stroke his cock in his hand as you peel off your pink nightgown. And when your fingers slip inside your aching little hole, he begins to speak with that same evil voice.

“Dirty whore. What would Ethan think?”

And when he says that, it shouldn’t get you so hot and bothered, but it does. Your clit throbs as more juices trail out of you. He laughs almost manically when you begin to fuck yourself with more force.

Dark! Ethan who watches you cum over and over. All while taunting you.

“Your little boyfriend would love to see this. You might be doing this for me, but you know you’re all his, right?”

You’re too dumb with pleasure to figure out it’s him.

Dark! Ethan who unmasks himself to you afterwards. Your tear stained face contorts into shock, and you begin to cry. You tell him that it was mean, that it wasn’t a funny joke. But he just smiles, and kisses away at your blushy cheeks.

“Baby, it’s okay. I’m really sorry… didn��t mean to make you cry.”

“cmon, I’ll buy you a pretty new outfit. And then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

You can’t not forgive him with that offer. And after he buys you a new dress and a new lingerie set, he makes sure to take you in the alleyway behind the Victoria’s Secret store and pound you senseless.

[strawberrysadmeow]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆Doctor's Kiss( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) …

female reader x Zandik

{ female reader (as always), sick reader, bratty reader, pet names, modern au}

warnings~ Dottore, manipulation

-

Zandik placed his hand over your back, gently rubbing it in small circles as you vomited into the bucket that was placed by your bed. You lurched forward, coughing and gagging as the stench of puke filled your nose.

“Oh dear,” Zandik mumbled, his worried voice groggy and tired, “it’s worsening every day.”

You scoffed, not because you were particularly mad at him for stating the obvious or because your vomit was stinking up the whole room. You’re simply just annoyed at how tired he is because of you.

You’d fallen ill a few months ago. It started with only a faint headache that never seemed to leave no matter how much medication you took; you chalked it up  as stress. Then, you began to profusely drool, which made you terribly embarrassed, your ears turned pink as you thought about it. Later, you developed a full-body sweat and an aching fever. Eventually, when you were too weak to move, your lovely boyfriend took you in to watch over you.

You glanced over at him. He had completely disregarded your attitude from earlier and had now begun checking your temperature. His brows were furrowed, ruby eyes glancing over the thermometer, and his lips were slightly parted into a faint smirk.

“Stop smirking, idiot,” you grumbled, hitting his arm.

“Sorry, dear,” he chuckled as he caressed your cheek, “you’re absolutely adorable, needing me to take care of you.”

“I don't feel very adorable right now.” You rolled your eyes. How could he even say something like that?

“That’s too bad,” he said as he kissed your forehead. You swore you felt cured already; the world stopped swirling around your head, and you felt a little less sick. “Because you look adorable.”

“You shouldn’t kiss me. I'm all sweaty and gross, plus I smell like ass.” You turned away, closing your eyes.

He gently pinched your arm and started giggling like some manic kid that just got out of time out. Freak.

“Darling, dearest. If I cared about you being sweaty and gross, I wouldn’t have let you live here with me, much less have spent so much time and effort to take care of you.”

Yikes.

That’s where he always got you. Even when he declared that all the effort he spent to take care of you was out of the love in his heart, you always felt an overwhelming guilt that crept up on your shoulders and clawed at your chest.

Before you got sick, he attended a prestigious university known as the Akademiya. However, due to your illness, he left to look after you. You didn’t even know what type of illness you had, and you couldn’t afford the hospital bill to check either.

The symptoms only started when you went on a garden date with him. Ironic how at the time he was the sick one with a petty cold. He had worn a mask while linking arms with you, careful to turn away from you with every cough. Nothing notable happened that day, it was an uneventful and disappointing date. The stench of pesticides ruined the dreamy mood.

“...It’s not like I even want you to do all this,” you announced, snapping out of your thoughts. “Just go back to school or something! I don’t need you to take care of me like I'm some incompetent child!”

Zandik sighed, his hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you to face him.

“But you are, love,” he whispered. “In your current health, you are incompetent. How could I ever return to my studies knowing you are in this condition?”

You huffed, pouting. He was really starting to piss you off. He shouldn’t care about you; he shouldn’t devote so much—so much everything just for you! He had so much potential, so much ambition and drive for knowledge and power, yet he set it all aside for you.

It made you feel shittier than you already did.

You had barely graduated high school, and after that, you dropped out of the community college in your local town. You had no family willing to take you in and lived homeless for a week before Zandik found you. He was your savior, your light. He always rambled on and on about how he needed to take care of you. You—a stain on this world compared to him.

Stuck in your own train of thought, which you've been doing most of these days, you didn't even notice Zandik feeding you a little medicine cup quarter-filled with a clear liquid. He wiped your lips so it didn’t drip onto your clothes.

You looked back over at him, and he was smiling at you.

Red eyes crinkled up into the shape of a moon, little dimples forming on the hollows of his cheekbones, a big toothy grin staring back at you.

How could he still smile at you when you were so gross?

You rolled your eyes; you didn’t want to think about this stuff anymore.

“Shut up.” 

Your voice was sharp yet weak.

“I wasn’t speaking.”

His voice was soft and clear.

You pouted. Maybe one day he’d indulge himself with your insolent attitude, just play with you a bit. Show that your words provoked him a little, just to give you some hollow satisfaction.

You focused on the occasional twitch of your calves or the sudden jolts in your arms instead of his face. Even your muscles were starting to go haywire due to this stupid illness. But it’s okay; Zandik said he would help you get better.

He gave you one more kiss on the nose. You shut your eyes, face flushed all the way to your ears.

You didn’t notice him smirk.

Or how he pocketed a bottle of an illegal pesticide in his pocket–pure Organophosphates. 

You didn’t notice it looked just like your medicine.

You didn’t notice him toss his expulsion letter from the Akademiya into the trash.

You were still caught up on the kiss.

-

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being complicit in my friend's situationship? (NSFW, and sorry, it's long, but at least it's dramatic.)

I had a friend (I will refer to as Kate), who I no longer speak to for reasons unrelated to this scenario. We dated on and off for a couple years and broke up permanently about a year before these events, but remained as roommates. Everyone in the story was in their 20s.

Kate went to a trade school and met a man (I will refer to as Andrew) who flirted with her despite mentioning before that he had a girlfriend. Kate was attracted to Andrew but told him that she wouldn't get involved with him unless he broke up with his girlfriend. He then told her that his girlfriend was distant to the point that they hadn't slept together in years, they basically were just friends that lived together, but she wouldn't let him officially break up with her, and he couldn't afford to move out on his own.

Kate told me about this, sometimes asking what I thought, and though I had some doubts about whether that information was true, I didn't give any real advice in any direction. Obviously I was in a weird situation, but didn't want to discourage her, or she might have thought I was jealous. She wasn't happy when I went on a date during this time. She also accused me of emotionally cheating while we were dating, so I was not about to tell her how to define cheating. That's a whole other story, but I say "accused" bc it basically boiled down to me still being friends with someone I previously had feelings for, and Kate believed I was more attracted to the old friend than her. That remained a sore spot for the whole time we knew each other, although I cut off the old friend a year after Kate and I started dating.

A few months went by, and they spent more time together at the school, and her car, hooking up at both. They never went to his place. He also asked her not to initiate text conversations, in case his girlfriend saw his phone. He came over to our place twice, and both times she texted me out of the room so they could be alone. Kate acted very happy talking about him, occasionally guilty or suspicious, but said she thought she loved him. Her moods fluctuated a lot, as she experiences manic and depressive episodes, and I was trying to comfort her through the bad times.

When they were about to graduate, Kate told Andrew that since they wouldn't see one another at school together anymore, she would stop talking until he broke up with his girlfriend. Then Kate saw his girlfriend show up at their school acting, well, like his girlfriend. So she became suspicious. Andrew also started flirting with another woman at their school, who flirtaciously messaged Kate. Kate thought Andrew was trying to set up a threeway, even after breaking off their situation. This ended with a lot of angry texts to Andrew from Kate, demanding that he tell his girlfriend everything. Andrew claimed he did, and then the conversation ended.

Many months later, Kate doubted Andrew told his girlfriend, so Kate asked me to make a burner account to message her, and I did. She didn't seem to be aware of any of it. At this point, Kate felt that Andrew had exploited her, but as far as I know, all of their interactions were consensual. I think she was trying to deal with her own guilt by leaving all the blame on him, but I never dared to tell her she'd done any wrong here. I also felt complicit in that I probably should have guessed that she was manic during this and given better advice.

I know this was a lot of info, but it could have been a lot longer. I'm just wondering now, a long time later, was ITA for not telling my friend flat out to stop the situation, or that she was doing something wrong?

[party-hearses]

pairing: dieter bravo x gn!reader (no use of y/n, no reader descriptions)

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI

wordcount: 600

summary: you (kind of) write dieter a letter.

warnings/tags: ANGST, mention of drugs and alcohol. i think that's all but please lmk if i forgot anything!

a/n: this is for @beskarandblasters phoebe bridgers/boygenius drabble challenge! and who would have guessed that not only is it the first thing i've written in almost 6 months, but that 600 words still took me far too long to complete. beta’d by the best bro in the entire world @bastardmandennis but she’s perfect so all mistakes are my own. comment and reblogs are appreciated if you enjoy!

You watch, tongue between your teeth, as Dieter’s chest shallowly rises and falls from his crumpled place on the couch. 

Sunglasses still perched on the bridge of his nose, matted green robe tied loosely around his middle. 

The color of stomach bile, of envy, of resentment.

Crushed cans and empty liquor bottles litter the room like confetti — a party you’re no longer invited to, a celebration you’ve all but been cast out of. The light of the moon, too-full and too-round, bounces off the shimmering glass, casting brilliant beams of light across the angles of Dieter’s sleeping face. 

I love you, I don’t know why. 

A seedling planted at the base of your spine the moment you first pressed your lips to his, the growth nurtured by passing joints back and forth under the liminal space between late night and early morning, ‘I’m sorry’s murmured into the damp skin at the nape of your neck. 

Watering the sprouts of something that feels too much like exhaustion, until they stretch to a length that feels too much like suffocating. 

It was always going to end this way. 

Dieter — too charming, too personable, too manic, too much. Held hostage to his own impulses, all he knew how to do was put his teeth to your throat and take. Consume.

He stirs under the light of the moon, hands searching for something, anything, to ground him, the raucous shouts and clinking glasses of the party gone, now. The infinite emptiness of the room swallowing him whole, now. 

In another universe, you might have stayed to grasp his hand, to whisper i’m still here against his trembling fingertips. 

Are you still here? 

In another universe, he might have never taken you back to his trailer to pick you apart at the seams in the first place, to make you blush and squirm and whimper under the searing muscle of his tongue.

The possibilities filter past your eyes, a View-Master slide of every wouldbecouldbeshouldbe superimposed over the Dieter in this universe. The Dieter who wrapped the same tongue around the black hole of selfish, teeth scraping each letter into the tender flesh of your palm. 

Just another wannabe ingenue, chewed up and spit out by the fame machine, with nothing to show but a blossoming cocaine addiction and too much credit card debt. 

And what choice did either of you have, really, when you saw him on a pedestal and he saw you as an equal. A matching desperation to be seen, to be taken seriously in an industry that you didn’t take seriously. 

I know you, I know you, I know you on the back of every breath of sticky smoke exhaled over the twinkling view of the city from the rooftop. I know you, I know you, I know you. 

It was always going to end this way. 

His unruly brown waves are matted to his forehead, sweat-damp skin glistening like you’re looking at him through the lens of a kaleidoscope. 

You wonder how bad the hangover will be, how much his hands will shake as he rolls the first joint of the day, how long it will take him to notice. 

It can’t even be called a letter, really. A scrap of paper, what might have been a receipt at one point in time. Faded, sticky, oil-stained, now. Folded in half and tossed to rest on his chest, still rising and falling rhythmically. 

The loopy scrawl of your handwriting, weariness evident in every stroke that connects those four words. 

You don’t know me. 

It was always going to end this way.

[nevaroonie]

 David Shaw Is Calling

{TW: Inversion Mentions, Mentions of character death ( I am not the world's best writer;-; [hell I graduated HS in may be nice] I know nothing of southern slang- I'm sorry-) Sam being called Cowboy-}

WC: 676 or 68o I can't rememeber

Nothing would’ve or could’ve prepared him for that call. For a minute he thought he was dreaming. He let it ring one more time before actually picking it up. He didn’t say anything- he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

��                                Sam.. can I-.. Can .. his voice was unusually shaky

            Sam.. C-can- i come..over. I-..if.. you’re busy.. don’t worry about it..  

Sam couldn’t remember what he said. All he knew now was David Shaw was on the way. That tone of voice was all too similar. He was hurting.. There is no doubt about that- its has been a whole month. He’d almost lost everything.. His Partner, his pack, and his best friend.  

   Sam climbed out of bed his sleeping darlin' unfazed by his movement. He took note and went out of the room shutting the door ever so slightly. David should be here by now.. If he remembered the way here. The cowboy took a seat on the couch pondering why David called him. Did he see him as a member of the pack? A good friend? God this is too much for this old man. He leaned against the couch only to hear a light knock. Well if he didn’t realize this was real. That knock tells him it was- Sam got up and went to open the door. 

An unsightly David graced Sam’s sight. 

Can I come in..? 

Y..yeah 

Sam moved to the side of the door frame, David trekked through the door he looked like hell. Could this be about the… yeah.. There’s no doubt about it, but why did David come to talk to him about that? Sam closed the door-locking it, and for a moment awkward silence filled the room. 

Sam.. during the inversion.. You came when I called.. I was panicked.. Hell a little manic. I was in a complicated form to put it simple. You could hear the quiver in David's voice.

A..Ash..Asher was.. Dying in my arms.. And I didn’t know what to do.. And my m…mind went to you... 

                                           David.. Y-

No..l..let me finish, please.. 

Sam went silent.. watching this mountain of a man; falling apart in his living room like that night. He stood before a breaking man, thinking he was about to lose it all. Pleading for his help.

You helped me.. The water welling in David's eyes threatened to spill. Being here, trying to thank the man who saved his best friend's life. Sam took notice of David’s shaking form-  he was about to fall. A quiet wosh and David was now crying in his arms. Why did this feel familiar? The man was just muttering thank yous and saying Sam did so much for him that night. All the while Sam held him, telling him he didn’t need to thank him and David had helped himself as much as he did. 

______

The bedroom door opened and Darlin walked out wearing one of Sam’s flannels. They wanted to know where their mate went. Was he out driving again? Would they be waiting outside for him to come back? However, they were caught off guard seeing their alpha sleeping on Sam’s couch. Okay… then where was Sam? Confused they began to look around the home. It's almost light out that and it isn’t like Sam to up and leave without word. As Darlin was getting lost in their thoughts the door opened. And it was David's partner and Sam. 

 Where’d you guys go? 

To get more food..I didn’t think you’d be up when we got back darlin'..

Yeah.. after Davey fell asleep Sam called and I wanted to.. You know… 

You two don’t need to explain I get it. I was just worried. 

____

To add to all the surprises, the last place David thought he’d wake up was Sam’s place. Let alone to the sight of  Angel and Sam’s mate cooking together. And nothing was burning- 

Yeah, I didn’t think Darlin knew how to cook- but they surprised me- 

Yeah.. Sam.

Yes David..

Thank You.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sponsored by Cherry Dr.Peper and Daveys Playlist

(this took me wayyyyyy longer than it should've.. that being said this was really fun to write! can't wait to see how everyone reacts to this! but anywho have a good day or night! )

special thanks to @tanky-baby for the amazing inspo!

[taytrashmouth]

heyy i love ur writing🩷🩷 Could you possibly do prompt 18 where the person that’s been abused is the reader and steve finds out and comforts her when she’s anxious maybee xx

Awe!!!! Thank you so much ❤️

Okay I’m here for this, I hope you like it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompt: person A finds out person B has been abused

TW: swearing! Abuse

Steve Harrington x reader

It was Christmas Eve and your family was having a big party (as usual) with the family they pretended to like (as usual) It was the first time Steve was really going to meet your parents, not just wave or awkwardly say hi as he dropped you off. You had made sure he hadn’t met them….

You were overwhelmed and you knew all these people, but Steve seemed fine.

“Steve?” You asked as you pulled him to the slightly quieter kitchen.

He hummed in response, putting his hands on your waist and you leaned against the counter tops.

“You okay?”

“Honestly? No.” He half smiled. “I’m pretty sure your cousins hate me, your brother looks like he wants to kill me and your dad didn’t even glance at me when I said hello.”

You sighed. “If it helps you’re good at hiding it.”

He sighed too.

“My cousins are…young. They don’t know what’s what. My brother is just upset he has to be at a family gathering and my dad….well he hates you.”

“ I feel so much better babe, thank you.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically as your cousins manically stampeded through the kitchen knocking the punch bowl all over Steve’s back.

You both looked at each other in shock, as the kids ran away. It felt like time had stopped, , the music slowed and everyone stopped and gawked.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath.

Steve looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He was so stressed about what to wear to meet your parents and now it was ruined.

“Steve, you can put your sweater in the washer, I’ll find something in my brothers room for you, meet me upstairs.” You instructed and rushed to find something to clean up the mess.

“Baby it’s okay, let me help you clean up.” Steve offered.

You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. Steve’s brows softened in confusion and worry. It was t that big of a deal? Was it?

“Y/n! Why aren’t you cleaning this up?” Your dad yelled.

“Sorry.” Your voice was so quite not even Steve could hear it.

You knelt to the floor and started to wipe up the red liquid. Steve tried to help but your father shoved him out the way.

“That’s a woman’s job son, don’t be a sissy!” He spat.

Steve tried to hide the look of disgust in his face.

“George-“ your mother tried to interrupt.

“Shut up!” He screamed.

As you tried to get up and fetch the mop he grabbed the cloth from your hands. You stood still, tears on your cheeks.

Steve was frozen in place as your mother ushered everyone outside. She left years ago, but she left you behind, you never really forgave her for that.

“You are so fucking clumsy! You know that!” Your father yelled.

“It wasn’t her f-“ Steve tried to interrupt but your father shoved him out the way.

“You think your safe because of your smart mouth boyfriend? You’re not! You’re still a fucking pathetic little girl!” He yelled as he rung out the red liquid in the cloth onto your white sweater you’d be saving up for the whole month. You gasped, you could smell liquor on his breath.

“Hey man, Stop!” Steve spoke.

That was when your father slapped you cold across the cheek.

“What the fuck?!” Steve shoved your father into the island and grabbed your hand before he could regain his balance, dragging you up the stairs.

You heard your father tumbling after the two of you but refused to look back. Once you reached your room you slammed the door and locked it. You heard your parents fighting downstairs.

Steve looked at your tear stained face, and red cheek with teary eyes himself.

“Surprise.” You cried.

Steve pulled you tight into his chest, holding you like the world was ending. Providing the comfort you’ve always needed, fixing wounds he didn’t cause.

You held each other while you cried for a long time until your sobs slowed and his arms rubbed up and down your back slowly.

“You can come over any time you need to get away, you know. I can make the guest room up for you- or you could sleep in my room with me.” Steve rambled. “ you’re not pathetic or clumsy, and it’s definitely not your job to clean up after anyone else.”

You smiled with blurry vision.

“I love you.” You interrupted.

He smiled.

“I love you too-“ he cut himself off by kissing you, more passionately than before, more meaningful in the six months he’s been so lucky to call himself your boyfriend.

“Why don’t you change into something more comfortable?’ Steve pulled away tossing you a hoodie that was on your bed…. His hoodie that you stole.

You tugged at the hem of your sweater, and Steve instantly turned around.

“No, it’s okay.” You spoke and be slowly turned. He watched you pull the sweater over your head, he watched the bruises appear on your skin, the scars. Both littered on your body like stars in the sky

He felt himself get emotional. You pulled on the new hoodie and went to hold him like he’d held you. Steve couldn’t understand how someone could possibly hurt you. You were the nicest person he’d ever known.

He hated your father. Hated him.

From then on Steve made sure you felt safe always, he made an effort not to raise his voice or take you to loud places, he made sure you were comfortable with every touch he ever placed on your skin. You ended up staying with Steve ,more often than your own house.

He would hold you as you cried when something did happen. And he would kiss all the marks better.

You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders now that steve knew. You told him things about your childhood that you had never told anyone before. He would never admit this to you but those storied kept him up later than his memories of the upside down did.

One night, when you were cuddled up in Steve’s bed in that same hoodie from Christmas Eve 2 years ago. With less bruises on your body than you’d had in years. You smiled to yourself.

“Steve.” You whispered.

He grumbled into his pillow in response. Hugging your waist closer to him.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“For what?” He grumbled half asleep.

“Just thank you.”

[lilacthebooklover]

3, 9, and 22 from this ask game

Of course! Thank you for participating! Here, have a piece of writing...

3) That encompasses my style (@acacia-may)

Hmm... My style's developed a lot over the years, and while I haven't had much time to write lately, I do think this little bit of Clamour from a couple months ago works pretty well! It's got the signature Lilac Anaphora, lots of flowery language, an abundance of commas and a little hint of enjambment as a metaphor for mental decline. (Sorry Acacia, I know you aren't in the fandom!! If you like, you can always submit another ask- 3 is just one that I struggled to think of something for :'])

His spiral down into insanity was not a quick process, nor was it without turmoil. It had been torturous, losing himself to the whispers inside of his brain, every thought overcome by that intoxicating need for more. His heart thrummed in his ears with each movement he made, fingers itching with the need to puppeteer once more, his head full of a throbbing, pulsating, incessant craving for control. Hiding it had been easy enough. His friends were long-since accustomed to his eccentricities, so when he began acting a little more oddly than usual, no-one batted an eye. He kept his lips sewn firmly shut and a toothy smile across his face, the chanting in his head growing louder and louder and louder with every lie he told. Maybe if he’d have been a little stronger, he’d have been able to overcome it. Maybe he would have told his friends. Maybe he would have been good enough to give up the power slowly killing him from the inside. Letting go was as inevitable as it was involuntary, in the end. As the floodgates burst, a rush of distorted euphoria like nothing before had sunk deep into his soul, a growing hunger beginning to fester within him. It grew and grew, and he took and took, and his friends fell with him as he watched , and he laughed and cackled because wasn’t it so ironic that anything heavenly or good be quashed in a place that couldn’t possibly hope to fathom it, and eventually, he had stopped caring about anything at all. The other Fallen Heroes mean nothing to him. His friends had died with him all those decades ago, only crude facsimiles of their former selves remaining. So here he is, the only performer left on a dusty set of cobwebs, and that hunger inside of him never stops. Something akin to loneliness aches alongside it, the lingering results of his isolation digging in deep and refusing to grant him even a moment of solace.

9) With characters I love

For this one, I think I'm going to have to go with an extract from Take A Bow- I'm hyperfixating hard on CRK at the moment lol. This was my first time writing both Pure Vanilla & Shadow Milk, and it was a lot of fun imagining how the story might progress before Theatre of Lies was released!!

Just as quickly as the darkness had arrived, a face shot out of the tree like a jack-in-the-box, sharp white teeth glinting down at them in a twisted, elated grin. A warped, reversed version of Pure Vanilla’s own symbol gleamed in the newfound turquoise light, his breath catching in his throat as he remembered all that Elder Faerie had told them. This must be the Beast who had originally possessed Pure Vanilla’s soul jam. The blonde found his hand subconsciously drifting to the crest on his own chest, gaze darting rapidly over every aspect of the uncaged monster’s face. “Ah!” A long, high exclamation pierced through the quiet, just as delighted as its voice’s owner. “Doesn’t this fresh air just feel… Divine?!” The last word ended in a growl, something manic heightening even further as the creature lazily surveyed its surroundings. Its unwavering stare passed over each of them in turn, finally settling on Pure Vanilla. Something in its glare sharpened, distorted cerulean light dancing along iridescent pools of insanity. “Oh, I see I have quite an audience here,” it remarked, its jauntiness seeming far too out of place amidst their own fearful grimaces. “I am so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.” The voice fluctuated between shrill shrieks and inhuman snarls, every word laced with venomous glee. Its head alone was larger than all of them combined, and Pure Vanilla was loath to imagine how excessive the casualties would be if they were to instigate another fight. “But now… The wait is over. Your favourite trickster is here,” it lowered its head in a flamboyant half-bow. Its value had become Deceit, Pure Vanilla recalled. Undeniable intelligence shone among clear madness, for this was a being born of knowledge and corrupted into lies. It was– “Shadow Milk Cookie.”

22) That is so blissfully self-indulgent

Here, have a snippet of an Owl House AU I came up with on a whim one night in which I threw Caleb Wittebane into the future and leapt over plot holes like they were hurdles on an obstacle course >:]

Caleb was going to die. There was a dagger in his brother’s hand, glinting with the dark promise of blood to be spilt and aimed directly at him, merciless and unwavering in its pursuit. Caleb’s breath caught in his chest as he stumbled backwards, heartbeat pounding in his ears with a new sort of rapidity. It used to be such a thrilling feeling: the quick yet predictable pounding against his ribs, excitement making his lips quirk or anticipation leaving them agape. It was the adrenaline that used to come with a hunt, the dread and uncertainty and wonder that brewed within him as he stepped through that portal, the butterflies fluttering in his stomach that only Evelyn could incur. Now, his heart threw itself desperately against the confines of its prison, nausea rising within Caleb’s throat and poison in his mind because he was about to die, to be killed at the hands of the person he loved more than anything. The person he had loved more than anything. The person he’d given up everything for. The person he’d raised since childhood. Ever since Caleb was young, Philip had been his biggest priority. Their parents passed when they were both young, Philip so much so that he could scarcely remember them. It fell to Caleb to raise his brother, working odd jobs so they could afford accommodations as they passed from town to town. In a world where no-one could be trusted and not a soul was on their side, it had been Caleb’s responsibility to keep his little sibling safe. To keep him alive, protected. To keep him well. Looking at the pure resentment in Philip’s glare, Caleb wondered how it had all gone so wrong. He knew, really, exactly the reason behind his brother’s murderous intent; it simply seemed impossible to associate his hopeful, smiling, playful Philip with the spite-fuelled monster before him. His head swam with memories long since tainted by acidic regret. There were so, so many ways he could have prevented this situation, eradicated even the possibility of Philip wishing harm upon him. So many things he could have done. So many things he didn’t do, and here he was now, paying the price. Caleb’s days were numbered, he’d always known that. His fate was sealed as soon as he first took Evelyn’s hand.

Thanks again for the asks! <3

[pickinglilahs]

Blackeclipse for the soul

AO3 link if you prefer to read there Part 11; Part 12; Part 13; Part 14; Part 15 Now that family-fun-time is over 🙃, Back to our regularly scheduled programing

James was getting bad again.

Remus had hoped that the fight with Barty on Saturday was a one-off, but, of course, it wasn't. He knew for certain when he woke up alone for the third day in a row.

Once was fine.

Twice was a coincidence.

Three times?

Remus went down to breakfast alone and made straight for the Slytherin table. He put his hand on Regulus' arm and waited for the other boy to look at him.

After a moment, Regulus turned from his conversation with Evan to look up at Remus. His impulse smile faltered at the look on Remus' face. He stood abruptly, throwing a 'see you later' to his friends, took Remus' hand, and led him out of the hall.

Remus pulled Regulus down a side hall and into an unused classroom. He closed and locked the door behind them, putting up a privacy charm. Remus sighed and leaned back against the door.

Regulus had gone from concerned, to borderline panicking. Remus, looking up at him, realized his mistake.

"James is Bipolar."

Regulus frowned.

"And I'm pretty sure he's gone Manic."

Remus held his hand out for Regulus, who came willingly. The taller boy had come a long way in terms of physical contact. He almost always took their hands in the hall now, even leaning into them or kissing their cheeks. Of course, there were still days that he pulled away, that he wouldn't let James pull him into a hug, that he wouldn't let Remus kiss his cheek. But those days were becoming fewer and fewer as the days passed.

This was not one of those days. Regulus came without hesitation, wrapping himself around Remus, needing the extra bit of comfort after the panic Remus had caused him.

"Sorry," Remus muttered into his shoulder. "I just—" he sighed. "He's been doing so well lately and..."

Regulus pulled back far enough to look down at Remus. "You're going to have to start at the beginning Moonbeam."

Remus sighed again and nodded. He stared at Regulus' tie as he spoke, "Ever since first year, James has gone through periods of Manic and Depression. He would feel either too much or too little. Last year, we finally convinced him to talk to Poppy and now he takes potions to help regulate his emotions."

Regulus waited patiently as Remus collected his thoughts. He seemed to be debating on how to continue.

"He's been doing so well. It was hard while he was still adjusting but—" Remus shook his head and changed tactics. "The potions aren't foolproof; they aren't a cure. A few months ago, he got really depressed and barricaded himself in his bed."

He looked up at Regulus then, searching his face, trying to make him understand. "After his fight with Barty, I hoped—" Remus shook his head again. "He got too angry, and afterward, in the Shack, he got too upset."

There was a slight pucker forming between Regulus' brows. "But... That was days ago..."

Remus nodded. "He hasn't been in the room when I've woken up since then. Last night, he wasn't even there when I fell asleep. I don't know if he's been sleeping much at all."

Regulus nodded slowly, but his eyebrows were still drawn. "So, what do we do?"

A bitter laugh broke from Remus' chest, "There's nothing we can do. We just have to wait it out, make sure he's still taking his potions." Remus looked up sharply. "But don't tell him to take them. That'll just piss him off."

Regulus nodded.

"And—" Remus tightened his grip on Regulus, "The reason I'm telling you all this, and not making him tell you, is because he might say some things. Things he doesn't mean; things that can be hurtful; things that don't make sense. When he's manic, he can be all over the place. So, just, be prepared? I guess?"

Regulus nodded again, "Okay, Um..." He took a deep breath. "Is there anything else?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. Every time is different."

He was about to say something else, but there was noise from the hall outside. People were starting to head to class.

The boys stepped apart and Remus dismissed the privacy charms. Regulus kissed Remus' cheek before letting him open the door; the two stepped out and went to class.

~~~

Regulus came to sit with them at lunch.

James was scribbling madly on a piece of parchment and didn't even notice. He only looked up briefly when Regulus leaned into him and placed a kiss on his temple. James turned to give him a hasty smile before turning back to his parchment, quill never pausing.

He was practically vibrating.

Regulus looked over his head at Remus; Remus was watching James. Across the table, Sirius was talking with Kingsley but was also keeping one eye on James. Even Peter, who was over at the Hufflepuff table with Benji, kept looking their way.

Sirius caught Regulus' eye and he raised an eyebrow. Sirius just shook his head and looked away again.

Right.

Don't bring it up.

"Hey, Sunshine?" Regulus wasn't entirely sure what he was asking, but he felt the need to do something.

It took James a second, but he eventually looked over, quill finally pausing. "Yeah?"

Regulus made a decision. "You want to go for a run?"

James blinked at him. "Right now?"

Regulus shrugged. "Kind of want to stretch my legs."

Understanding lit James' face and a mischievous glint lit his eyes. "Let's go!"

Regulus smiled as James stuffed his things into his bag. He all but dragged Regulus from the hall and out the front doors. They made their way down to the forest, setting their bags down over by Hagrid's hut.

As soon as they were in far enough, both boys shifted and took off. Regulus let James set the pace.

They ran

And ran

And ran

Along streams, over rocks, under vines, around ponds.

Regulus might have been bigger and faster, but James seemed to have more endurance. More than once, he had to tackle James and force him to stop for a break.

~~~

It was getting dark before Regulus managed to herd James back in the direction of the castle. By the time they grabbed their bags and made their way inside, it was almost curfew.

Regulus made James carry him upstairs.

A few people in the common room gave them strange looks, but Regulus ignored them.

Remus was sitting up in bed doing homework when they entered. James set Regulus down and dived onto the bed. Remus, braced for impact, smiled as James sprawled across his lap. He went to brush hair out of James' face and wrinkled his nose.

"You're all sweaty, Sunshine."

James laughed and pushed himself up on his hands. He stole a kiss from Remus before rolling off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

Regulus came over and sat on the edge of the bed. He felt disgusting but also didn't want to leave.

"You can shower here if you want. Have Evan bring whatever books you need to breakfast." Remus was smiling at him knowingly.

Regulus gave him a tired smile in thanks before yawning.

Remus glanced at the bathroom door before lowering his voice and leaning over. "How was your run?"

Regulus leaned back on his hands and shrugged. "It was fun, but he definitely has more stamina than I do."

Remus laughed and Regulus smiled.

After a while, Regulus looked at the door and asked, "You said that he hasn't been sleeping, and today at lunch..." Regulus drifts off, not quite sure what he's asking. "What- I mean, have there been... other things?"

Remus looks to the door too before leaning closer again, "Yesterday, he got points deducted for yelling at Professor Trelawney. Then he smashed his crystal ball, and she gave him a detention."

"Trelawney? Gave him a detention?" Regulus had never heard of her taking more than five points from someone, let alone giving them a detention.

Remus nodded, "I know. Sirius said he threw it clear across the room."

"And he just—what?—took the detention and walked?"

Remus shrugged. "Sirius said he just grabbed his things and left. But he also told me that James has been night flying again."

Regulus frowns, "On the pitch? How has he not gotten..."

He trailed off as Remus's eyes snapped to the bathroom door.

Regulus looked too, and there was James. He was standing in the doorway in just his towel.

"Don't stop on my account. How has who not gotten what, Regulus?" He strode over to the bed, the challenge in his voice as clear as his crossed arms.

Regulus swallowed and Remus jumped in, "We were talking about your night flying. Regulus wants to stay the night and I told him not to worry if he woke up and you weren't here."

It was a good lie, and Remus delivered it so smoothly. Regulus almost believed him.

Almost

And James clearly didn't. Whether he had heard more of their conversation, or he just knew Remus' tells, James was shaking his head before Remus even finished.

"Don't lie to me, Remus. I know you guys have been talking about me." James' voice was hard, unforgiving in a way Regulus never imagined the other boy was capable of. "I know you snuck off this morning at breakfast too. What have you been telling him? That I'm crazy? That I'm broken? That-"

Something clicked in James' head. His gaze snapped from Remus to Regulus.

Remus used the pause to jump in. "You aren't broken, James! You know that! And you remember what happened Saturday?"

James' face went from cold to deadly. His voice dropped to a whisper, "Of course I remember. Why do you think I've been- No. It doesn't matter. Clearly, you don't trust me anyway, so why should I-"

Remus cut over him, "Of course, we trust you, James! You know we do!"

"Clearly not! Considering you had him 'take me for a walk' today!" He was yelling.

Remus held both his hands up, eyes on Regulus. James looked too and stormed out of the room, snatching up a pair of sweats on his way out.

Regulus had dissociated again. Remus took his hand and placed their Marks together as he had in the Shack.

It only took a moment for Regulus to meet his eyes, but, this time, they were welling with tears.

"He hates me," His voice was soft and terrified.

Remus pulled the other boy against him, laying them both down. "Of course, he doesn't, Starshine. He's just frustrated. Once he's cooled down, he'll come back and apologize."

Regulus just sniffed, burying his face into Remus' shoulder.

Regulus still needed to shower and send a message to Evan, but neither boy was willing to move.

Instead, they lay like that for a long while. Not sleeping but unwilling to move.

@starchasersunseeker @poetrypirate @niad4827 @bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430

[wenwenbittercake]

My Flightless Angel

Chapter 1: Angel without Wings 🪽🪽

(The story can shift from different POVs either, from Edrawd’s perspective to Y/N’s perspective. Y/N can also be changed from referring as ‘she’ to ‘you’ to connect with the reader more in important bits to make readers feel more immersed in the story. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it.

TW: Alcohol, Thank you and enjoy🩷🌷🩷🌷🩷)

ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋ

It’s suffocating. The sounds of typing. The chattering of people. The constant buzzing of the white-led lights. The small space he is packed in to work in. All of it is strangling him. When it’s getting too much for him, he just wants to slam his face on the computer screen until his head goes through it. However,

“Mr. Nashton, do you want coffee?”

That sweet voice. That sweet sweet angelic voice that brought him back on earth from whatever manic episode he’s having. His gaze shifted from his excel screen to the face over the cubicle. She smiles down to him with her arms resting over the cubicle wall. He wonders if he would still receive her pearly smiles if she knew how twisted he is.

“Excuse me?” Edward replies with a nervous push of his glasses over his nose bridge.

He heard her the first time, he just wants her to keep talking to him even if it’s just a few seconds longer.

“Coffee. Do you want me to grab you a coffee? You really look like you need it.”

“Oh, um yea I would love that.” He replies with a nervous light lip smile as he leans back over his work chair a bit to ease himself, but it certainly is not working.

“Black coffee with no sugar as usual?” She said with her usual uplifting playful tone.

“Yes yes of course, why would I order anything else.” He stumbles and ends it with a nervous smile. (Embarrassing 🫣)

“Okie then.” Y/N chimed and with that, she walked away. Edward’s eyes can’t help but linger over her as she walks off like he can’t get enough of seeing her.

Y/N the only reason why he hadn’t quit his job in the first place. Y/N L/N started working recently as his boss Zach’s secretary. He groans at the thought of his boss Zach who only worked there for 3 months to gain that position. Anger seethes through him at the thought of how privileged bastards like Zach got a place in society but the poor like him scavenge for leftovers. If he were to get half of the privileges like those bastards, he wouldn’t be here, he would be somewhere better, somewhere where he’s known. But here he is wasting his life away in a cubicle with the other rats.

However, Y/N changed that. She’s not like others. Her presence changes everything. He feels blessed with just her eyes on him. Her giggles, her cheeks smiles. Every little thing she does is so intriguing to him. He’s completely head over heels for her but she doesn’t need to know that no. He knows deep down, nothing good would come out of a confession. It would only push you further from him. He already had hard times keeping you in his line of sight, he doesn’t need any further interference to push you away further than that.

He’s not oblivious, he’s not delusional. He knows he isn’t the best looking nor the most interesting person in the office. If you really like riddles and dad jokes, sure, you will find him partly interesting but either way, you aren’t going to choose him out of all people for a romantic partner. He believes he isn’t that sane to be with you either. You deserve someone normal, someone perfect. Someone who’s just not him. And his boss. He can never picture Y/N and Zach together no matter how, it just tickles his brain in the wrong way.

“Coffee’s here.” A familiar female voice came beside him which knocked him out of his daydream.

“Oh um thanks.” he said as he hurriedly took the coffee from Y/N’s hand. Edward then realizes she’s holding a handful of other coffee cups with different names on them. He almost felt sorry for asking for his coffee in the first place.

“Want me to help you with that, you seem to have too much stuff in your hands.” He said with a bit of a worried tone. He even stood up from his work chair, ready to help to which Y/N reply with a sorry,

“Oh no I got it, thanks a lot though.” she said with a reassuring smile before heading quickly back to the other cubicles calling out the names of other coworkers. They all brush her off or give a halfhearted nod of gratitude to her for getting their coffee.

Dam those rats. Edward cursed at his coworkers in his head for treating Y/N in such a way. He wishes he could beat some sense in their head to see what a beauty you truly are. Anyhow, he continues doing his task in hand, numbers just focus on the numbers.

“So, you want to join a work party? It’s just us going out for a drink at this Korean BBQ downtown. It’s going to be great.” Social gatherings and parties aren’t really Edward’s thing. He liked to keep to himself and hated being seen. (Ironically🤨) However, being asked by his one and only angel, he starts to doubt himself.

“Well, I’m not really sure, maybe next time?” He rejected not because he doesn’t want to spend time with Y/N. The idea of spending another minute with those pretentious fucks make him want to throw up.

“You say that all the time, I really want you to feel included this time that’s why.” Y/N said as she even goes as far as to give him those doe eyes he can’t resist. He looks around nervously at the parking lot of their work building to avoid Y/N’s pleading eyes.

“Forget it Y/N, he won’t even go even if you get down on your knees for it.” One of his annoying co-workers said with a smug look.

Anger boils in him in resentment at that comment. Before he could retort a glare or anything. He realizes Y/N's sadden face in defeat. Does she really want me to come with her that much? Edward sighs and finally gives in even though his social anxiety side of his brain screams no.

“I’ll join, ok? Only this time.” Edward muttered in a caring tone. His eyes search desperately for any joy in her eyes and when he finally does, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

As expected, the Korean BBQ restaurant is filled with the employees of KTMJ. The restaurant has a cozy warm atmosphere, except for the loud obnoxious drunks who call themselves employees of KTMJ. Except for Y/N who smiles naively at everything her co-workers are saying. How nice of her, even though most of what the co-workers say are a bunch of bullshits and lies. Edward sips on his beer as he sits at the edge of the table with Y/N beside him who doesn’t seem to mind his silent presence at all. He’s now on his 2nd cup. Edward, surprisingly, has a strong alcohol tolerance.

At the corner of his eye, he can see Y/N’s face a bit flushed from the alcohol and her naïvely nodding along to her co-worker’s nonsense. Seems she couldn’t take much alcohol in her system. He thought. His mind wanders over how close they really are. He can practically feel her warmth against his arm and all it takes for him to move a bit to feel her arm against his. But he sided with his better judgements, not too. However, his co-worker, Drue or Drake or Dane whoever the hell he is, is too drunk to realize Y/N’s discomfort over him forcing her for another drink.

“Come on, another one, it ain’t gonna bite cha.” Danny teased as he slightly shoves another cup of beer to Y/N.

“No um I’m good. I don’t think I can take more.” She said with a forced smile on her face.

“Come on, just oneee and you bet you can get your pretty little ass back home.” Danny slurred his words as he said. Edward jaw clench at the comment. He gulps down his cup at a fast pace to burn the anger rising in his throat.

“Um ok just this one.” Y/N said nervously as she took the cup from his hand.

“Atta girl.” Danny cheers.

“On the count of 3. 1 2…” Danny counts to chug together.

Y/N on the other hand nervously eyed at the beer cup and gulp and before the countdown hit 3. Her cup was taken by a larger hand from hers. Before she could even react, Edward chugs the entire cup of beer in secs before her eyes. His Adam apple bobs as he chugs down it in ease as if he had done this multiple times before. Then with a small burb he hands the empty cup over into Y/N hands. Before she could say a word-

“Woah damm girl you really got it in you don’t cha!” Danny’s booming voice distracts her back to the present.

His drunken self is too distracted to realize Edward was the one who drank it instead of her. All the other co-workers were too wrapped up in their own conversation to realize what happened.

“Oh, yea I guess.” Y/N replies dumbfoundedly leaving Danny in a laughing mess.

Her attention goes back to Edward who seems quietly watching this encounter beside her. She looks up to him and mouths a ‘Thank you’ and smiles sheepishly. Normally he could give back a tight lip smile but, maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the loudness of the room, he couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly. She watches Edward’s laugh; he even has to hold his stomach as he laughs hysterically at something so mundane. Everyone from the table shifts their attention to Edward and the room becomes silent only filled with Edward’s laughs. Some of their faces are filled with confusion, some with terror. Y/N on the other hand watches him intently almost like she’s mesmerized by his hysteric laughs. She could help but smile.

He looks cute when he laughs.

(Thank you so much for enjoying my writing, I hope you can leave a like or a note so I would know how much you guys like it to continue this series. I apologize if there's any grammatical errors or if you are unsatisfied with the experience. Thank youʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)🩷🩷🩷)

Chapter 2: A Mistake🪽🪽🪽 Chapter 3: Disclosure

(Me trying to convince myself the riddler is hot and doesn't look like an incel. [He is literally a discord kitten])

[itspdameronthings]

Benny the Rookie Cop Pt2

Summary:I know this part is intense. First part is anyway. It deals with Santi going off the deep end. Sorry about that. Fear not! there is a sweet Benny and Grace moment at the end which im gonna write another fic . More like an extended scene.

Meanwhile a few blocks away sounds of restlessness fills Santi’s home. He is on the floor with a bottle of his favorite whiskey. Drinking the numbness he feels. Life hasn't been good for him. Latest relationship has ended. That really hurt him to no end. Thought she was the one. After two years together things were on the up and up till something happened. Coming home to see her stuff was missing. All that remained was a dear John letter. No explanation,but she can't deal with his manic episodes. Then… his baby sister getting married to his best friend. He should be happy for them. Welcome Benny into the family. Resentment fueled his mind. Goal is for others to be shitty. 

He hasn't been to work for days. Will was beyond worried. Calls and texts were unanswered. On this night he goes over to see if Santi was okay. Letting himself in with a spare key looking around how messy the place was. Dishes in the sink smells of booze fills the air. Clothes on the floor. Caused Will to go upstairs to see his friend on the floor only wearing a pair of ratted green sweats. No shirt. Unkempt hair ,and matted beard. Kneels down,” Care to explain why you haven't called me?! Was worried that something happened! Had to postpone our presentation to next month! Our ass is on the line?! Gonna lose our important client ?! Are you gonna say anything?!” Santi looks at him whipping his mouth,"Of course I care,but not right now. Leave me to wallow in my misery. Too sick to care about shit. Now leave me alone! Go back to your happy home!” Looks like Will isn't getting through him. Think he needs some help. Thought about calling Frankie,but he is on vacation with his daughter. Benny hates to call him knowing he just got off from work. Taking a breath got out his phone: 

Older brother: look bro, hate to do this,but I need your help. At Pope’s he is in a drunken mess. 

Sound of a phone going off caused Benny to slowly wake up from sleeping with his beautiful wife. Can't stop holding onto her. Rubbing his eyes. Looking at the message,” Shit! Not again!” Tried not to wake Gracie slowly got up to get dressed, sudden movement stopped him. Small hands on his shoulders stopped him . Soft voice fills the room,” What's wrong baby? Another bad dream? If it is? Let me help.” Taking a breath,” Your brother is drunk yet again. Gonna go to help Will. Wantcha to stay home okay? Can't have my rose hurt. Need ya to keep my side of the bed warm and toasty. “ Gracie not listening. Still wrapped in the bedsheet. Goes to get dressed,” Think I can help too. We are family, remember? “ Benny goes over to her now naked form. Hugs her from behind,” I know darlin. Just trust me okay? Let me and Will handle it. If we need help? I'll call. “ Gracie closed her eyes. Knowing he might be right. Sure both of them had training in dealing with this kind of behavior. This is her brother. Might not have seen Santi like that. Oh the boys have. Soon as her husband leaves. She goes to her nightstand to fetch her phone. Calls someone who delt with this before. Her mother. 

Benny arrives at Santi’s . Noise of shouting caught his attention. Sounds of things hitting a wall. Rushed upstairs to see both Santi and Will yelling. Sees a broken bottle on the floor. Goes over to break up the fight. Goes between them,” Enough! Stand fucking down!” Santi not hearing this. Goes to push Benny away from him,” oh look is here! Person who stole my sister away from me! Ordering me around my own place! Why don't you both go home !”Looking into his brother in law in the eye. Not moving,” Not a chance man. You're endangering yourself ya know that?! Need help! Not leaving so tell us what's wrong.” Santi grunts,” Nothing ,and I mean nothing is wrong! Can a person be alone for a while?! That's all I fucking want!! Want to wallow okay?!” Now the plot thickens. Wallow. It's Will who figured it out. Leans against the wall in his signature pose. Arms crossed,” I know why. Chelsea. Left you in this state of misery. Furthermore? Resenting the fact Benny stole Gracie from you! Preposterous! Can't face that she is an adult. She loves you man. Problem is that can't someone else take over. “ Those words cut through Santi’s soul like a knife. Yes he is going through a lot. Feeling like the others never endure that kind of pain. Until he remembers Will went through the same thing. Now he feels like shit. Brothers sat next to him while he cried. 

Rosa Garcia rushed inside her son's home. With Gracie in tow. Looking at the state the home is in. Brought back memories of her late husband. Brought tears to her eyes. Her son is going down the same path . She knew he was going through stuff,but never thought he would destroy himself in this kind of matter. Gracie stays downstairs to clean up. Rosa slowly approaches a bedroom to see her son,and her sons in law . Benny, first to see her, goes to hug her,” Mama, Glad you are here. Got him calm ,but.. with all of my trainin in this? Thought could get through him. “ Hugs him tightly,” It would be fine my baby boy. Go downstairs okay? Your rose is there cleaning up. Means you too William shoo!” Will kisses her forehead as he leaves. Santi whimpers,” I'm a bad son Mama! Don't know how I can overcome it…” Rubs her son’s back as he lays his head on her lap. Needs to feel safe right now. Rosie knows that as well. He needs help to cope. Whispers to her son,” I'm here baby boy. You know drinking your troubles away isn't gonna help. Either is being a complete boota to your sister,and husband. Can't you see it's hurting them? Getting dumped hurts I know. Been there honey. Tell you what. I'm gonna move in for a while.help you get through this. First thing first. Go downstairs to apologize to the young couple. Tomorrow? Taking you to counseling.” 

Mother and son come downstairs to see his family cleaning up the living room. Gracie is first to see her mom and brother. Not looking at him she walks away. Not before Santi blocks her,” Look here G. I'm sorry. Okay? Never thought my anger hurt you the way it did. Was in a bad place. I'm glad you have Benny. I mean it. I'm afraid that I'm..” Reaching out to hug her brother. So does Benny. Hug him close. Rosa whispers to the young couple,” Go home. We got this. Family dinner is gonna be pushed back for a few days. You two have fun on your days off. Mama’s orders.” Santi watches from afar as his sister and brother in law hold each other close. Try not to fall apart. Will comes up to him placed his hand on his shoulder,” you will find one special man. First thing is to get ya well again. “ Santi takes a deep breath,” Thanks for coming by man.” Will chuckles again,” That's what family does man . We help.”

Young couple arrived home. Exhausted mentally and physically. Benny reached out to hold Gracie who practically held on to him. Breathed in his special scent,” Had to call mama. Had too. Hope you aren't mad.” Kissing her forehead ever so gently, he whispers,” I'm not. Glad ya did. Wasn't getting much lead way until Will figured it out. Now.. how about we go to bed. Hmm? Can cuddle, or watch some trashy show ya like.” Tracing patterns along his neck as he picks her in a bridal position,” I much rather have my rookie make love to me. Followed by some cuddling. Then.. we can stay in bed tomorrow since it's gonna rain.” 

Once they get into bed. Benny holds her close to his warm body. Trace loving patterns along her arm. How he wanted to fully fill her first request. Sees her fast asleep in his arms. Making love is the first thing to do in the morning. Holds her close to him. Thinking about how he really needs to protect her even more. Yes, Santi has a long journey ahead. Feared he might have a relapse. Whispers into her ear,” Love you my Rose bud. With all of my heart. Make sure you are safe for what's to come. Pray for Pope’s recovery is a success.” 

[kptssecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @dr-lemurr!

Dr-lemurr, it was a pleasure to write this for you. All your prompts were delightful and it was super hard to pick! I hope you have a wonderful festive season, and a wonderful 2024.

TAGS: BigTae, corset, skirt, unrequited feelings, getting together, frotting, blink and you’ll miss it but it is there, handjobs, happy ending, both kinds I guess

*****

Heartbreak In A Short Skirt

“Ah, Big, there you are! Tae needs your body,” Tankhun cried. Big, who had only just opened the door to his rooms, froze just inside the doorway and stared at Khun Nu in disbelief. He had, for a long time now, dreamed that one day he might be lucky enough to hear something similar, but in his secret daydreams, Tankhun was never there.

“Oh my god,” Tae muttered in English. Big tried not to show how much he liked the sound of the phrase, the way Tae’s voice curled around the words before letting them go. “Khun, that is not what I said!”

Tae rose gracefully from the couch and crossed to stand in front of Big, who tried to keep his face respectfully neutral even while he longed to breathe deeply and lose himself in the heady scent of Tae’s perfume.

“I’m sorry about him,” Tae said, rolling his eyes in Tankhun’s direction before smiling at Big as if they were sharing a secret. As if they were the sort of friends who could share a secret. “What he meant to say was - do you remember last month, you came with Kinn and I to that art gallery?”

“Of course, Khun Tae,” Big replied politely. He wouldn’t have phrased it that way - he’d been working that evening, not accompanying them like a friend or guest, but he did remember the gallery. The exhibition hadn’t been to his taste, but he’d enjoyed the evening anyway. 

Big always did, when Tae was there.

“Well, I was showing a friend some of the photos I took that night, and they saw you in them - just, you know, hanging around the artworks, it wasn’t - I didn’t take pictures of you - anyway, the thing is, they’re a fashion designer and they’ve got a launch coming up, and they - well, we - thought you would be the most perfect model for their new line.”

“I see,” Big said carefully. He shot Tankhun a look over the top of Tae’s head, in case he had an Opinion(™) about that, but he just looked bored.

“I said I’d ask you, anyway, and of course you can say no if you don’t want to, only you’d be saving their skin if you said yes.” Tae paused and looked up at him; he looked happier than Big had seen him in a long time. Certainly happier than he’d looked since he’d finally shaken Khun Time loose. “They’re a good friend of mine, so I’d consider it a personal favour.”

“Yes?” Big said. It was closer to a question than he’d meant it to be, but Tae didn’t seem to mind.

“I - oh! Yes?” Tae asked, looking at him eagerly. “Yes, for real? Oh, Big, thank you, I owe you such a massive favour! Whatever you want, just let me know.”

Big thought about the favour he’d really like to ask for, and bit his tongue, and smiled politely. And that was how, with a calm and respectful nod, and his true feelings locked tightly away where no one would ever find them, he became a runway model.

***

The show was packed, Big was alarmed to discover, peeking around the curtains that hid the manic, messy, chaotic backstage area. He hastily tugged the curtain back into place and turned to see Tae watching him carefully.

“Are you ok?” Tae asked kindly. “If you have stage fright, you know, you can just look at me. I’ll be in the front row, near the end of the catwalk. Just pretend I’m the only person there. After all, you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No, who could be scared of you, Khun Tae,” Big said nervously. “You’re too kind to be scary.” He didn’t add that fear was so far from how he felt about Tae that it might as well be another country. 

“Oh, that’s sweet of you,” Tae said with a smile. Like so many of his smiles, it didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Big thought he looked a little less sad than usual, today. “Ok, off you go and get changed. I have to find my seat. Good luck, and remember, I’ll be the only person out there.” He patted Big on the arm and left; the touch of his hand lingered on Big’s skin as long as the scent of his perfume lingered in the air.

Big changed into his first outfit mechanically. He’d spent a long and frankly boring day at Kamon’s atelier earlier in the week, being fitted for the three outfits he’d be wearing at the show today, and at the time he’d been annoyed at giving up so much of his time for such a seemingly useless cause. Now, though, he was glad of the practice run; his hands shook slightly and the silk belt he was trying to fasten kept slipping loose. 

The first walk was the worst. Big had practised everything, but he hadn’t remembered about the noise; the show had loud, thumping music playing at a volume that made it impossible to hear his own thoughts.

Maybe that was for the best though, as the moment he stepped out from behind the curtain, all he could see was Tae. And for all that Tae had told him to look at him and him alone, it didn’t feel right. Big was sure that he would never have suggested it - would never have given Big permission! - if he knew how Big felt when he looked at Tae. 

In any case, it certainly wasn’t the cure for stage fright that Tae had thought it would be. Big could feel his heart pounding, far faster than it ought to have been for such a simple walk. As he reached the end of the catwalk and paused, dropping a hip diligently the way Kamon had shown him, the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears finally blocked out the terrible music and Big risked a glance at Tae.

Looking directly at him was a mistake. Tae was the sun, shining brightly as though he were the one under the spotlights, as though he were the one in the bejewelled silk dress that glittered like a galaxy when he moved even the tiniest fraction. Big stared at him, pretty and lovely and everything that he wanted and could never have, and wondered how it could be possible that all the eyes in the room were on Big when Tae was right there.

Tae gave him an encouraging smile, sweet and hopeful, and then gestured discreetly with his chin. Big shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned on his heel. The walk back down the runway felt longer, somehow.

Outfit two was more of the same; Big’s palms sweated a little less and his heart rate dropped out of a worrying range, but otherwise it was loud and awkward and he felt ridiculous in the oversized suit Kamon put him in. (Why, he wanted to ask, did you spend so long measuring me, just to dress me in a shapeless tent? But he bit his lip and did his little walk for them, and pretended Tae’s soft smile meant things it didn’t, just to fortify himself for the walk back.)

It wasn’t until Big was halfway down the catwalk in his third outfit that he realised how he felt. This look, with its miniskirt and long leather boots, and tightly-laced leather corset to match, had been his favourite when trying them on; moving in it was something else altogether. He felt almost drunk on the feeling of power the added height gave him, the way the heels made him change his posture to keep his balance, the way that even the people in the front who had eyed him with disinterest a few moments earlier were now leaning forward in their seats to get a better look. 

As he approached the end of the runway, Big prepared to turn one last time. He took one last step, dropped his hip, looked down at Tae and nearly fell on his face. Instead of his encouraging smile, Tae was staring at him with his mouth agape, the corner of his tongue poking out to one side, and his hands were gripping his knees, bunching up the fabric so tightly Big was sure he must be giving himself bruises. Big almost opened his mouth to ask if he was ok, before he remembered that he was currently occupied, and he didn’t think Tae would thank him for fucking up his friend’s important show.

Frowning, Big turned on his heel and headed backstage for the last time. As his head snapped round, he saw Tae standing up and walking away out of the corner of his eye. The sight distracted him and he nearly missed his step, only just catching himself in time to avoid tumbling to the floor.

“Was that ok?” Big asked Kamon the second the curtains cut off the sight of the audience. “I thought - it felt ok, but then Khun Tae left, was something wrong?” 

“I don’t think he left because anything was wrong,” Kamon said, in a tone of voice that suggested Big was being very dense. “But why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Ask me what?” Tae said, behind Big. He spun around on his heel - he was good at that now, he noticed, but then he’d always been a quick study - and found Tae staring at him again, with that same shocked intensity. “You wanted to ask me something?”

“I just wondered if something looked weird,” Big mumbled. “You were staring at me, that’s all. I mean, everyone was, it’s not… it doesn’t matter. It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, Big,” Tae said quickly. “I, um. This outfit looked even better on the runway than I expected, that’s all.”

“Ah, Tae, I meant to ask you,” Kamon interjected. “I have to check on the rest of the models, but Big mentioned he has to get back to Kinn soon. Could you give him a hand changing out of this outfit? The corset can be tricky to unlace alone, and I don’t want to risk scratching the leather.” 

“Oh, I don’t need -” Big started to say, but Tae was already nodding and giving his friend solemn assurances that the corset would be in the best, most careful hands. Big felt a small, warm hand on his wrist, and before he knew it, he was being dragged into another room.

“That,” Tae said quietly, once they were alone, “was amazing. You looked amazing, Big - oh, you still do, of course. You look - I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I just… oh my god.” Tae’s hand was still clasped gently around his wrist; Big hoped he couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, a frantic rhythm that gave the lie to his cool demeanour.

There were so many things Big wanted to say to him. He settled on part of the truth, if he couldn’t give him the whole thing. “You never make me uncomfortable, Khun Tae,” he said quietly. “I was just worried something was wrong with the outfit, or… I don’t know. I didn’t want to ruin Khun Kamon’s show, I know it’s important to you.”

“It is,” Tae said distractedly. He couldn’t seem to meet Big’s eyes; instead, his gaze hovered over the corset, darting back and forth between the tightly-cinched waist and the top of the leather, where two straps stretched past his collarbones to wrap around his neck. “It’s - thank you, I should say that now, in case Kamon forgets later, it’s so busy in there.” 

“It’s been a pleasure,” Big said. He almost stopped there, kept silent still, but the lust in Tae’s gaze was as clear as the best gin and twice as strong, and it made him bolder than he would normally dare to be. “I’d do anything for you, you know.”

That was enough to win back Tae’s attention. His eyes snapped up, meeting Big’s gaze with shock and desire writ clear on his face. “Big?”

“I don’t mean to overstep. I hope that wasn’t too much,” Bug murmured. “But you’re so - so lovely, and I thought you should know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tae took a step towards him and reached up, sliding a finger across the edge of the corset, tracing the shoreline between leather and skin. “I thought you didn’t notice me at all. You’re so cold, and the way you look at me… I thought I’d never hear you say anything half as nice to me.”

“You really don’t mind? Because there are so many other things I could tell you, I could say how pretty you are, or how kind,” Big said, feeling flush with bravery, as though Tae’s touch was filling him with courage and quelling the part of him that always held himself back. “I could tell you how I’ve seen you for years, and wished I could make things better for you, or how I - mmmph!”

Big’s confession was interrupted, but he didn’t care at all, because Tae was kissing him and it was everything he’d dreamt it would be, and more. He wanted to stop and tell him, but the thought of breaking away, of ending such a magical moment by choice, of voluntarily letting his lips leave Tae’s, was unthinkable.

The decision was made for him by Tae, who pulled back but then immediately came close again and kissed him in the centre of his chest, halfway between the straps that had so entranced him. Looking up at him with eyes blown wide with lust, he traced their path with stuttering fingers, beside the straps, up the side of Big’s neck, along his jaw. 

“Can I take this off you?” Tae asked. 

Big didn’t trust himself to speak; he nodded roughly and turned around, bracing himself against the wall, and shuddered when he felt Tae step up behind him. With gentle hands on his hips, Tae nudged him into position, and then reached up to unbuckle the strap around his neck, fingers moving achingly slowly. When that fell loose, he untied the laces knotted at the base of his spine. It wasn’t until he exhaled that Big realised he could feel Tae’s breath on the back of his neck, gusting shakily over his skin as nimble fingers loosened the cords cinching him in tight, caging him in Kamon’s leather shell. As Tae freed him, Big felt he was shaking off a second skin, or bursting forth from a cocoon, born anew under Tae’s tender touch. 

Big nearly jolted out of his skin again when Tae kissed his back, a hot press of his mouth to the nape of his neck. He worked his way down, kissing along Big’s spine and stroking along his ribs. It wasn’t until he stepped away and turned him around that Big realised what he was doing; kissing down the centre of Big’s torso, his fingers traced up and down the lines the corset’s boning had left on him, light red depressions that stood out starkly on his pale skin. 

“You like them?” Big asked, covering Tae’s hand with his own and dragging them together from his nipple down to his waist. 

“I do,” Tae whispered, intrigued and sounding almost ashamed of his fascination. “Do they hurt?”

“Not even a little bit,” Big told him. Tae nodded thoughtfully and kissed his chest again.

Cupping Tae’s chin, Big tipped his face up gently and kissed his mouth, savouring the taste of him as much as the eagerness with which he opened up for Big. His desire made him soft and pliable, until it was easy to imagine that he wanted this as much as Big did, that this was more than a convenient if unexpected encounter that he’d forget about as soon as it was done. 

With a low, short growl, Big spun them round so Tae was pressed up against the wall, pinned by the weight of Big’s body. He wrapped an arm around Tae’s waist and slid his hand down the small of his back to rest there, just where his spine began to curve away into the swell of plump and perfect cheeks. With their bodies flush, he could feel Tae’s cock, firming up and pressing against his thigh; with his free hand, he tugged up his skirt and then jammed a leg between Tae’s thighs so he was grinding against bare skin. 

“Do you want to take these off?” Big asked, hooking a finger into the waistband of Tae’s leather trousers. 

Tae shook his head quickly, looping his arms around Big’s neck. “No, no, they take forever to get on and I can’t - I don’t want to wait, I just want - here, let me -” He undid the button on his flies and yanked the zipper down, giving Big just enough room to slip a hand into his pants. 

Big curled his fingers around Tae’s cock, his grip gentle at first, but firmer as Tae gasped and ground his hips into the touch. His eyes closed slowly and he tipped his head back, so that Big had the most perfect view imaginable of his pretty face with its gorgeous cheekbones and soft pink lips, glossy and slightly parted.

“Ahh, fuck,” Tae whispered, and then Big felt fingers dig into his shoulders as he clung on to him. “That’s - yes, yeah, yes, that’s it, I - fuck, Big, I can’t believe you want me, you want this. Tell me you do? Tell me you want me?”

Big inhaled sharply; he understood the words, but their meaning felt unbelievable still. “I do, or course I do. I want you so much. I told you already, anything for you. Anything you want.” 

Tae’s eyes flew open and he stared up at Big, something deep and charged in his gaze. “Do you - ah! Do you mean that?” he asked, voice catching halfway through when Big ran a thumb over his head.  

Big thought of the years spent in Tae’s orbit, shadowing Kinn and feeling like his heart was being torn this way and that with the two of them, both so bright to him, and himself so invisible to them both. He thought of the casual cruelty in Time’s disregard and the looks of unbearable sadness that occasionally flashed on Tae’s face, before he plastered an unconvincing smile over top of them. He thought of the way Tae had lit up when Big agreed to do him a favour, and the naked lust on his face when Big had walked out onto the runway in his now-discarded corset. 

“I did,” Big told him. “I do.” 

Tae came with a cut-off gasp, slapping a hand across his mouth to muffle his moans as Big jerked him through his orgasm. He wanted to keep talking, to heap on some of the praise he’d been storing up for years, but the set of Tae’s shoulders, the shaking of his frame, suggested it might be too heavy a burden to bear. 

“Oh fuck, Big, that was - wow,” Tae murmured a moment later, face still buried in Big’s neck. “Can I… will you tell me what you like?”

“Anything, anything,” Big muttered; if he’d been less turned on he might have been embarrassed of his answer, but he was so far gone already and he thought Tae ought to know how close he was. 

Tae bit his lip, then licked one of his palms before running his spit-slick hand up under Big’s skirt. “Oh,” he whispered when he realised Big was wearing nothing underneath. “Oh, were you - the whole time, on the catwalk?”

“Kamon said it would ruin the lines,” Big bit out, wrapping his hand around Tae’s and encouraging him to a faster pace. “I didn’t want to ruin anything with bad lines. I don’t even know what they are - yes, please, that, please! - but I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted you to be pleased with me.””

“Astonishing,” Tae murmured, stroking him faster, hand curling tighter under Big’s grip. “You’re something else, Big.” 

“Mm, please,” Big gasped, rocking his hips forwards to try and get a little extra friction. “Please, take pity on me, have mercy…”

“Oh my god,” Tae said in breathless English. “Oh, fuck, you sound so pretty when you whine. Oh, will you let me do this again some time? When we could take it slow? I want to drag it out, see how long I can make you whine before you can’t even speak. Would you like that, Big, darling? Would you let me tease until I’d fucked all the words out of your head?”

Tae’s words killed him, in the best way; the Big who had got dressed up a few moments before was well and truly ended, making space for a whole new person to inhabit his skin. He came silently, the hand wrapped around Tae’s clutching tight as he spilled over their tangled fingers. Tae turned them around one last time so he could slump against the wall when his shaky legs threatened to turn to jelly completely, and then he carded a hand gently through Big’s hair. 

“Oh my god,” Big said eventually, echoing Tae. “I didn’t - where did you learn to talk like that, fuck.”

“Did you like it?” Tae asked him, not quite meeting his eyes, but not pulling away either. Big swallowed and nodded, and waited for the warm press of his body to disappear. “Because I… I meant it. If you wanted to do this again… that would be ok.”

Big wished he were better with words, that he could somehow find a way to explain to Tae that the last few minutes of his life had been the most extraordinary thing possible, and that even if he never got to experience Tae’s touch again, he’d die a happy man. The thought that it would be ok to see him again… his heart was beating a quick, angry rhythm in his chest. 

“I, uh. I would - that would be ok with me, too.” A thought occurred to him, and Big reached up to stroke Tae’s hair gently, in case he ruined everything and didn’t get another chance. “Do you think,” he asked carefully, trying not to jostle Tae where he was leant against him, “do you think your friend would let us borrow the corset again, another time?”

Whatever else he might have said was lost in the kiss Tae gave him, fierce and hot and perfect, so perfect that Big wondered how he’d survived so long without it. 

[qppsoftness]

hi! i don’t know how long this will be so i apologize in advance if it is but i need somewhere to put this down and chuck into the queerplatonic void.

i have this friend i met a while ago. about 9 months ago, maybe, something like that. we clicked really fast (our brands of autism mesh well), and it’s just been really, really great. in that time i’ve met her family, been quasi-adopted into her friend group, and now we live together along with a couple of our other friends. it’s just been so, so wonderful and as someone who’s spent most of his life lonely and out of place she’s just been… a fundamentally life altering addition to my life, honestly?

we were hanging out really, really late at night with one of our friends that also lives with us, and we created that wild manic late-at-night hangout energy that makes anything and everything so indescribably hilarious. during this, she looked at me and asked “aren’t you glad we’re friends?” in that way where it’s sarcastic, but in the sense of ‘the vibes we have created are so infinitely WACK that we are all simultaneously having a great time while being dealt massive amounts of psychic damage,’ if that makes any sense at all.

and so, so many responses went through my head, and all of them were serious. because, like, yes. yes i am. i am so, so glad we’re friends and i don’t know if i’ll ever tell you or convey to you how much you have fundamentally altered my life over the last nine-ish months but YES. i cannot convey the emotions you and everything you’ve given me make me feel but jesus h. christ it’s a lot. and all i did was laugh in response instead, because obviously speaking those words out loud would’ve been a whiplash-inducing tonal shift in the moment. also, that’s a level of emotional vulnerability that i am rarely capable of, because unfortunately what doesn’t kill you makes you weird at intimacy.

so, with this in mind, i immediately identified those emotions i was feeling as similar to the way i feel about a QPR that i’ve been in for over a year now (we had our 1 year anniversary in august hehe). i love my QPP with everything that i have and with an intensity that i didn’t know i had in me until i met them, so the fact that i am feeling vague wisps of something similar for my friend scares me a bit. not because my current QPP would be upset or anything (i actually think they would encourage it, if anything), but because i just… don’t know what to think? i know my friend is aspec, and has great opinions on most everything and we’ve had in depth discussions about QPRs and aromanticism and all of that fun jazz. so it’s not like i’m just harboring these very new feelings out of fear that she would somehow not understand it. i just think i don’t know what to do with it, because when i think about being in a QPR with her i like it. but i think asking her or even talking about it just feels way, way too early, and i don’t know if she’d feel anything remotely similar or what she’d think about it.

sorry this was so long! i really don’t know what the point of this was, other than to just cast my feelings somewhere and be able to mark it anonymously. so if you read this and made it this far, thank you!

aaah it's been so long since this got sent and i keep forgetting it's in my inbox!! i'm sorry anon, i hope y'all are still doing okay ;w;

tbh, i think a qpr is like any other relationship - if you don't want to ask her quite yet, it's okay to just sit and think about those feelings and have a platonic crush :) i think waiting is a good idea if you're not sure, plus it gives you time to think about how you'd like to talk to her abt it!

i hope that helps at all, i'm still learning how to handle having a relationship At All after not feeling any attraction for yearssss so i'm clueless too ehe

[nutcasewithaknife]

Rules: List 10 comfort shows and then tag 10 people

Sorry its been a while since I got tagged! thank u @fangdoubing <33

In no particular order, here goes:

1. Old Fashion Cupcake

I have watched this start to finish over 5 times in just the last year. Confident gay who is actively having a crisis all the time? An older man coming to terms with himself at 40? Who would've thought an office drama could go that hard. Especially when everything about it is so soft it just wraps me up in a warm fuzzy blanket

2. Beyond Evil

Something about how justice and grief and guilt and love are all one massive tangled knot that none of us can hope to sort through without each other. About wanting to be damned but being saved instead, and finding out it's just as painful.

3. Word of Honor

MY FIRST C-DRAMA. the sheer plot chaos. Gremlin murder husbands and their kids. The manic delight of seeing how hard they went with the gay despite censorship. Glorious unparalleled and perfect

4. The Untamed

My second c-drama gays. Fundamentally altered my view on people and relationships. Came for the gay, left haunted by every single sibling relationship. How devastating grief can be, and how moving on is both inevitable and impossible.

5. The Good Place

FAVOURITE COMEDY EVER. There's so much love and kindness at its very core. Commentary on the inherently fucked up nature of the capitalist world AND the most gloriously absurd and meaningful afterlife system ever. They all have my entire heart.

6. Yuri!!! on Ice

I don't even know what to say. It's gorgeous. It's unbelievably soft and just. so lovely. Go watch it if you haven't it's worth it.

7. Good Omens

AUGH MY BELOVED 6000+ YEARS PINING ANGEL AND DEMON. I can watch them just exist around each other forever. S2 destroyed me but I don't regret a single thing

8. Bad Buddy

They're such fucking idiots. Obsessed with how silly and gross and sincere they are. It's the first Thai BL I went beserk over

9. Moonlight Chicken

The next Thai BL I went berserk about!! I think it does a lovely job of showing queer relationships for different generations with their differences without condemning or glorifying any one. It's so sincere and grown up in an incredibly kind way.

10. Mysterious Lotus Casebook

If you've gone through the last 2 months without blocking me for the MLC spam, thank u. It won't stop anytime soon. I'm just obsessed with li lianhua and his tragic and convoluted connection to grief and the past. Also also his silly little polycule. The biggest emotional mindfuck of an ending since BBC Merlin. The brainrot is here to stay

Tagging @istgidek1234 @redemption-revenge @difeisheng @linacies @deus-ex-moshina @t4tadrienette @tejoxys @fanghuas @franklloydweft (feel free to ignore, no pressure!) and just anyone who wants to share :)

[mushroomfrog-swamp]

I love the idea of flower language so much. imagine person A receiving a bouquet, thinking the person B must like you but in reality it’s just a super covert fuck u because they have to keep up appearances or whatever because A and B have a mutual friend but hate each other. And like person A thinks their winning because they made a bet with someone about making B fall in love with them. But person B made that same bet with the same person but is still to stubborn to actually pretend to like A. This goes on for like over 6 months but still less than a year. Both people think their winning but B is speaking in flower language and A is bilingual so they have been cursing each other out in their respective languages. Obviously they actually fall in love but are desperately trying to hide it and feel super guilty cause they think the other guy is also in love. Then at the end they go to the set up meeting place that they made with person C (mutual friend/the person they made the bet with) at whatever time to call the deal off. But person C was smart and had them meet at the same place same time. A and B meet each other and C is late and they have an awkward convo until both of them suddenly confess that it was all a bet. Person C comes out manically laughing and recording and A and B are shocked. C is all “this is fucking hilarious. You both are so dumb that neither of u looked up the others languages?!” B feels dumb cause “duh A is bilingual” but A is all “what language. B speaks (common language)” and C goes “flowers. B has been curing you out in flower.” And A makes some very sudden connections and A and B are laughing and B can’t stop noticing how beautiful A looks when they laugh so B grabs A’s face and kisses them. But B panics and separates and is like “omg I’m so sorry” but A grabs B and kisses them again. And C is suddenly out like 200 bucks

[fuzzydreamin]

Doing the Writer Bingo thing, considering myself tagged by @theartofblossoming because they said so

I got bingo twice!

Gonna tag @new-eyes-extra-colors @bokatan and @nukanaptime if yall haven't already done it - blank template is under the cut along with me talking about my answers and writing - feel free to ignore it if you want lol.

I don't actually have any of my fics public rn because I hid all of my old ones (they were HP and thats blech now), but I had... 13 fics, including a completed multichapter amongst a bunch of oneshots and abandoned starters, lol.

So I have had a Fanfiction.net account, but I never posted fic on there. I just read fic there. I also read fic on a bunch of other old sites that don't exist anymore and haven't for many years, but didn't have profiles on them. I don't even remember their names, I know some were primarily non-english sites that just happened to have some of their fics translated - some of the best fics honestly. I've only ever posted on Ao3 because it wasn't until I was basically done with highschool that I felt confident enough to write publicly.

Never had a wattpad phase. Never even read fics on it and I honestly click away if fic links lead there. I just don't like how it's set up.

My most popular oneshots were my two hard E rated smut fics, which rivaled by multi-chapter fic for a while but got overtaken by it while I wasn't looking, hah.

Some of the earliest writing I ever did was roleplay. I joined a Warrior Cats roleplay guild on the Neopets forum as a wee child. I didn't even know what Warriors was when I joined, I just wanted to play with cats. It introduced me to the series though, which became a big part of my life with reading and art. The roleplaying was fun for a bit but... well there were issues but I guess we were all kids. Didn't help that they were all American so I had to do weird hours to join events. I don't do a lot of roleplay overall, I've dipped my toes in again here and there but never anything dedicated. It's rather intimidating honestly.

I've never beta read anything or had a beta. I work entirely alone and prefer it that way. I just do it all myself and quadruple check everything and then freak out after posting and check again and again to pick up any small spelling mistakes that might've slipped past me.

Always been a nerd for researching. Sometimes I'll be researching something by my own whimsey and that'll become part of a fic after the fact, lol. I like when authors sprinkle in little bits of knowledge, and some of my favourite fics are ones that have me highlighting terms to look them up further.

I never actually had an outline for any of my old fics. I would just start typing up whatever came to mind at the time and post it when it felt ready. It's a miracle I finished a multichapter fic at all honestly. But I'd also be manic in my writing, being that I'd blast out one or even multiple chapters a day for a while and then randomly stop and not look at any of my fics for months or even years. I did begin to start fics with some outlines and collected thoughts later on, and I'm outlining so very much with my newer fic and not writing in a manic state anymore thanks to nearly a decade spent working on my mental health. I'm writing from a better place now, but I often look back at my old works and wonder if I haven't lost something over time due to the large break I took in creating, which is something that goes for my drawing too. Overall though I have a lot more hope for my future works being more planned/thought out and far superior to anything I've put out before - though I didn't get many complains on my old stuff, just a lot of very confused watchers who got overstuffed and then left in the lurch. Sorry.

The "anxiously waits for feedback" thing I think is something pretty much everyone feels when they put any work out there. I really get it with the immediate posting and having to double and triple check that I didn't misspell anything, or get something wrong, and that what I'm trying to say comes out clearly - as if people will point it out and laugh at me or something when I know they won't / haven't even had time to read it yet even though it's public. I've found it's best to just distance myself after posting and doing my doublecheck though, like just enjoying a game or an episode of something and trying to forget about it for a bit and avoid checking it too frequently. Like meditating, but with a distraction.

I have commissioned art for fics at least twice - but neither of the fics actually made it to the point were the art could be used. Oopsy. Was still fun getting the art.

So many unfinished and unpublished fics. I could probably complete that Danse/Butch smut oneshot I was doing back at new years...

"Editing and formatting is hell", I mean... I've mentioned my tendency to quadruple-billion-times check things twice now. This makes three.

Ideas in the middle of the night are the worst. I can't type shit out on my phone, it takes too long and I get frustrated (I'm also sleeping next to my partner and he'd question wtf I'm doing with a light on), and even if I try the ideas are already escaping like very agile moths. My condolence is that ideas that come when I'm half-asleep probably actually aren't that good anyway and just seem so to my sleep-addled self.

I don't need tea to write, but it definitely helps. That or an iced mocha. ... it's totally the effect of caffeine and sugar on the ADHD... I'll be bouncing up and down while I sit there but at least my fingers will be moving over the keys.