#friday 13 somehow feels right

[askarsjustsoswedish]

Alexander Skarsgård, Jeremy Strong, Kieran Culkin – Succession 4.05, Kill List – Lukas Matsson, Kendall Roy, Roman Roy – HBO Max, Sky Atlantic.

[dancingtotuyo]

1. mirror in the sky

Landslide | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: An unexpected encounter with Joel Miller jump starts a series of events right out of your wildest dreams.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: age gap (approx 13 years), past baby sitter, TV show basis, grief & loss, trauma, anxiety attack, consumption of alcohol

Notes: AHHHHHHH I'm so excited for this! I've been sitting on top of a no outbreak version of these two since before I posted the first chapter of Woman! How appropraite that I bring you the first chapter of Landslide on the first anniversary of Woman. Thank you all for all of your love and support this past year!

What?! @guiltyasdave beta read this?! I never would have guessed that! (love you xoxo)

Words: 3844

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

You don’t know how you make it to the Austin suburb unscathed. You shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a vehicle, muchless driving an extra 20 minutes, but you need to be home. Not your lonely, one bedroom apartment in the city- but home where mom is cooking dinner and dad is watching the football game, where dad keeps it a chilly 68 inside despite the heat. 

The tears come in silent waves on the drive over, but by the time you pull into the driveway, sobs pound at the dam, waiting for it to burst. As soon as the key pulls loose from the ignition, you stumble out of your car, almost tripping up the front stairs. You have to see your parents. It repeats on a loop in your fucking mind. Everything will be fine once you see them. You go for the door knob, but it's locked. Panic scratches at your throat. You try it again, expecting another result. The front door is never locked. 

Your palms collide with the hardwood door. “Mom! Dad!” You can’t seem to draw in satisfying breaths. Your face is drenched in tears and sweat as the panic and Texas heat work in tandem against you. 

It doesn’t cross your mind that they might not be home. Your parents are boring. They’re stuck in their habits. They’re always at home on Thursday evenings. It is Thursday, right? You lost track of time during your shift. It was never ending. 

Your palms sting. It feels like forever, but finally, the door opens. You fall forward. Hands shoot out to steady you. “Woah, there.”

That’s not your dad’s voice. It stuns you just enough to make everything in your body work for a minute. “Joel?” What’s he doing here? Where are your parents? You just want to hug your mom and snuggle on the couch with your dad like you’re 6 years old again. Did something happen to them? The panic comes back double, your body shaking this time. “Where are my parents?” The tears are blinding. “Where are they!”

“Holy shit, Sweetheart.” Joel pulls you inside the house.

You stumble over the threshold falling into him. He slams the door behind you, his arms tightening around your shoulders. “Why aren’t they home? They’re alway home.” You’re hyperventilating. You know it, but you can’t stop it. 

Before Joel can answer, your legs give out. He barely avoids tipping over and landing on top of you. Somehow, he manages to lower you both to the ground without any major damage. 

“They left for their anniversary trip today.”

Fuck, so it was Friday. You’d forgotten all about their 30th anniversary trip. You’d spent more time inside the ER than out of it the past few weeks, picking up as many shifts as possible. Trying to avoid the approaching Anniversary. The one that came just weeks after your parents’.

You try to repeat the words in your head. They’re okay. They’re halfway to Europe now. It does little to help soothe the ache in your chest. 

Joel runs his hand up and down your back. “Shhhhh, it’s okay. Everyone is okay.” He pushes back the hair that sticks to your face. Your sharp intakes of breath eventually die down to sporadic and shaky. “That’s it. Deep breaths.”

Eventually you settle, letting your head rest against the door. Your throat feels tight, your sinuses stuffy, and your chest aches. 

“Stay right here. I’ll bring you some water,” Joel says. 

He’s gone before you have the wherewithal to thank him. 

You wipe the mixture of fluids on your face away with the back of your hand: tears, sweat, snot, probably some drool. God, you must look a mess right. You eye the tissue box across the room but the thought of moving makes your brain hurt and your muscles sting. You wipe the back of your hand discreetly against the clean scrub pants you changed into before leaving work. 

Joel comes back into the room with a glass of ice water. Condensation drips down the sides teasing your drying throat. He grabs the tissue box without a second thought.  

“Here.” He sits back down on the floor with you, carefully handing you the glass of water.

You thank him, making sure the glass doesn’t slip through your fingers. The water is cool and soothing against your scratchy throat. You don’t think, tipping it back further until your worn out esophagus can’t keep up and you sputter, choking on the water. It spills from your mouth, following the lines of your throat until it dips under your neckline. 

“Woah there, slow down.” Joel takes the cup from you as you cough. “We don’t need you choking today too.” 

You can’t help the little uptick of your lips as you struggle to recover. His care and concern is sweet and- no, he’s 13 years your senior, you chide. You gave this stupid crush up last summer the morning after the Randolf’s pool party. You’d woken up and were flooded with the memories, the lines you swore you’d never cross. Thankfully, Joel was either an oblivious son of a bitch, or you were more subtle than you remember. Whichever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore. You are over Joel Miller. 

The dark green shirt that stretches around his biceps doesn’t phase you. Neither does the tool belt slung low around his hips, or the fact that you’re alone in your parents home. Your brain pulls you out of the thirsting that you are not doing, and focuses on that detail. “Joel, what are you doing in my parents’ house?”

“I’m renovatin upstairs.”

Something about that strikes a chord within you. “The 25th anniversary bathroom renovation?” You smile and Joel almost looks relieved to see you return to the version he’s used to. 

“Except it’s the bedroom now too. I think your mom called it interest.” He laughs. 

“Sounds about right.”

“Now,” he props his arms over his knees. “What are you doing here? I thought you got too good for us and moved into the city,” he teases as he nudges you softly. 

You roll your eyes, but the light squishes out when you close your eyes. The images play on repeat behind them. Your heart rate surges again, you feel your breath begin to quicken. 

Joel’s hand lands on your knee, the other cups your neck. “Hey.”

Your eyes snap open. His soft brown ones are closer than you’ve ever seen them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve asked.” 

You sign rubbing the tension from your neck. “I just worked 36 hours straight.”

“Holy fuck, isn’t that illegal or something?” 

You shake your head. “Discouraged, but the ER was a madhouse, just one thing after the other. We had a big trauma come in and none of us felt like we could leave. I got a few hours sleep at the hospital before my scheduled shift started.” You’re starting to feel the come down of the past few days and your panic attack. 

Joel looks concerned, like he’s looking you over for any physical injuries. Something that would explain your panic. 

You don’t let him ask anymore questions. “We had this car accident come in- yesterday? I can’t even tell you when.” You can’t get the knot out of your neck. You groan in frustration. 

“C’mere,” Joel motions you over. “I’ll get it.”

You listen, too tired to fight it or over analyze it. His thumbs dig into your tight muscles. You catch the moan before it falls out. “A couple UT students.” 

You contemplate spilling details, but they’re covered in blood, marrying with last year’s events. You can still feel the blood soaking through your scrubs. 

Joel pauses before catching a knot in your shoulder. You gasp in pain, but it feels good too. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

“No, keep going.” You say, and he listens. “They got hit by a drunk driver.”

Joel sucks in a breath. You know he’s thinking back to last fall, the accident that turned your family’s life upside down. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to see since the call came in, so eerily similar to last year. The surrounding events. The injuries. You were working the ER when they brought Carter’s mangled and bloody body in. You watched, helpless to do anything as your friends and colleagues tried to bring him back. You listened as they declared time of death. Even now, you hear the ringing of the flatlining monitor in your ears. 

Joel pulls you into a tight hug, your arms hanging limply at your sides. The exhaustion is just too much, but you appreciate it. It helps, makes you feel less alone. “Thank you.”

“Course.” He gives you another squeeze. “Let me finish working out your back.” 

You oblige, tension melting away as his fingers work toward your spine and then downward. You’d been on your feet for the better part of 2 days, and that was the least of it. 

You let out a long, deep breath, body beginning to settle. “Where’d you learn to do this?” You lean into his hands to increase the pressure. 

“Got real good at ’em when Pam was pregnant with Sarah.” You’re not sure you’ve ever heard Joel mention his estranged ex-wife so casually. 

“God, can’t imagine what would possess a woman to leave hands like yours.” The words slip out before you even have a chance to think through the implications of everything you just said. 

His hands stop moving, palms flat against your lower back. Heat rises to your cheeks in mortification. “Shit, Joel. I’m sorry. Obviously that’s not even an actual reason to stay. Like you have Sarah and that’s an actual reason and I can’t-“ Laughter cuts off the words cascading from your lips. 

You turn around to find Joel leaned back, his chest shaking as laughter comes from his belly, filling your parents' quiet home. You swear you even see a tear or two come from his eyes. One thing is for certain, Joel Miller is not stressed right now and he certainly wasn’t bothered by your comment. Quite the opposite actually. 

It’s contagious as the smile passes over your face. Your chest begins to shake. Mostly, you’re enjoying this rare sight. His crows’ feet crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat but you rein it in. 

Joel wipes the side of his eyes. “Pretty sure I was supposed to make you feel better.”. 

“You did.” 

“Glad to hear it.” He groans as he rises to his feet. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.” 

He offers his hand. You take it and he pulls you to your feet. “Thank you, Joel.”

He nods. “I need to get back to work. I told Sarah I’d be home by 6 tonight.” 

“What time is it?” 

Joel looks down at his watch. You took Sarah into the city last fall to get it fixed for his birthday. “Just past four.” 

You stare up the steps, contemplating staying in your childhood bedroom tonight. You don’t have the energy to make the 20 minute drive home. Your energy is draining by the second. 

“You need sleep, and probably a shower.”

“Showered at work.” The stairs look like Mount Everest to your weary bones. “Think I'll crash on the couch.”

Joel sees it. “You’d still have clothes here?”

“There’s a set of pajamas I left at Christmas in my old room.”

“I’ll get them for you.”

“Room with-“

“The pink walls.” He chuckles, stomping up the stairs. Guess it was obvious seeing as you’re the only girl. 

You’re standing in the exact spot he left you in when Joel gets back. Your sleep shorts, and thin top in his hands. “Thanks.”

“No problem, and if you need anything while you’re here, just come over. Sarah and I will be home all weekend. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll stop by at some point. I’d love to see her too.”

You hadn’t seen Sarah since her soccer tournament this spring. You’d lived with your parents for almost a year after graduation before moving into the city to work at the only Level 1 trauma center in the area. 

Joel nods then stomps back up the steps. You change in the bathroom before folding into your parents' oversized sectional. It smells like comfort and all things nice. You can hear Joel working in your parents’ space upstairs, but it quickly fades as the darkness takes over. 

You wake up disoriented, not sure where you are. It’s completely dark around you, but you pull at little threads as they’re given. You’re definitely not in your bed. You can’t hear the city noises below your apartment. You sit up only to be greeted with a splitting headache. You’re in your parents' home. Everything comes filtering back through your brain. You shudder. You don’t want to think about it. 

You shove the blanket off your legs in a pursuit of water and advil. You don’t remember pulling a blanket over yourself, but quite frankly, you could’ve done anything in your sleep deprived state. The water dissolves the cotton in your mouth, but does little to dull the aching in your skull. You’ll have to wait for the drugs to kick in for that. The stove clock says it’s 2 am. 

You wander back to the couch, but the moment you lay down, the restlessness sets in. You toss and turn but your body says no. Finally, your headache has reduced to a dull ache, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things. 

You know you need more sleep. You should probably sleep for 24 hours straight after the shift you just had, but you sit up again, brushing your hair out of your face. This is ridiculous. Your sleep schedule is already fucked up enough as is. Maybe you should start working the night shift. 

You pace through the dark house. You know the layout like the back of your hand. Your mother hasn’t so much as moved the furniture since you moved into this house when you were 6. 

You step out on the porch for air. It’s cooled down some. You contemplate driving home, but the peacefulness of the neighborhood is comforting. You can almost ignore the ache in your chest, pretend your brother is still alive. 

Across the street, you catch Joel’s TV playing some corny action movie through his big living room windows. You catch the outline of his head, the rehearsed movement of bringing a bottle to one’s lips. He’s not asleep.  

Your heart beats a little heavier in your chest. He had said to come over if you needed anything.  Right now, you need company. It might be the lack of sleep, but your bare feet hit the asphalt without a second thought as you cross the street. Your brain doesn’t even register what you’re doing until you knock on the door. 

You contemplate running away. Who doesn’t love a good game of ding dong ditch? You certainly did in your heyday. Why not relive the glory days when you ran this street?

The door opens pushing away all of the swirling thoughts in your mind. The cicadas play white noise in the background leaving your sole focus on Joel’s concerned brown eyes and your raging pulse. 

“You okay?” 

“I just- I saw your TV on. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.” 

He gives you a soft smile, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

You exhale almost in relief, stepping across the familiar threshold. Part of you eases, but another tightens up. You’ve spent so many hours in this house, many late nights here, but never with Joel, with him watching you with such concern. Heat flares up your neck. 

“Can I get you anything? A snack? A drink?”

“It’s two a.m.”

“You’re the one who knocked on my door.” Joel teases.

“You told me to come over if I needed anything.”

“So what do you need?” The hour of the night scratches at his voice, sending a charge through the air. 

Your eyes snap up to his, knowing he didn’t mean anything by it other than to be kind, but it doesn’t help the way your skin prickles. You swallow down the lump that forms in your throat. “Company.” Joel smiles at you. Your eyes dart down to his lips. “And some water, please.”

“Coming right up.” He turns for the kitchen before you can do anything foolish. 

You rub your eyes, hoping to clear your head. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, it runs through our mind. Your inhibitions are lowered after the high flying emotions of the day. You can’t fall into his arms. They’re not open for you, not like that. 

You settle into the corner of the couch, pulling your knees to you chest as the familiar smell envelops you. A cheesy action movie plays lowly on the tv. Joel isn’t too far behind, passing off a glass of water as he eases onto the middle of the couch, arms spread across the back of the sofa. He doesn’t say anything, returning his attention to the tv. You appreciate that he doesn’t ask too many questions. He’s just letting you be. 

You attempt to watch the movie, but it’s bad, almost endearingly bad, but Joel seems to enjoy it. He’s the thing holding your attention. Joel is a good distraction. You’ve never gotten the chance to admire his profile in this way, this close, this undisturbed. If Joel catches on to your staring, he doesn’t let on. He lets you study. 

At some point, your mind takes over again, reminding you of the brother you no longer have, of the deep cavern in your soul. It doesn’t pour out of you like it did earlier with the fury of a hurricane. This is more like a peaceful stream, tears silently gathering in your eyes, falling with little fanfare. 

Joel’s hand falls to your knee, squeezing it softly. It’s the only acknowledgement from him, but it’s what you need. Long after your tears are gone, Joel’s hand stays, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against the inside of your leg. 

Some line makes Joel chuckle as he shifts further into the couch. Your legs have fallen out in front of you, one brushing his thigh. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this close to him, unless you count last summer when you got drunk at the Randolf’s party. Embarassment floods your system, making you withdraw your legs slightly. 

Joel’s brow furrows, head turning to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, not sure you’re convincing. “I’m just shifting.”

He gives you a once over from top to bottom. Your stomach dips. You know he means nothing by it, but your body doesn’t get the memo. As if to make matters worse, Joel slings his arm back over both your legs, pulling them over his lap. It tugs you closer, pressing more of you against him. Nothing about it is inherently sexual, but your body is on fire. 

You can smell him. The mixture of fading old spice and the ever present smell of dirt that has seared itself to him. You can’t take your eyes off his profile now. You’re close enough to count his eye lashes if you wanted to. In all your life, you never though you would be this close to him, with his hands on you. 

It’s not like that. It’s not like that, you repeat in your head because it’s not. Joel would never look at you like that. He’s too good of a guy. He’s just showing you comfort, but you can’t stop looking at him. The temptation to make a move so close, it’s hard to ignore. It’s not like that.

It’s like your brain is running a million miles a second, taking Joel in, his proximity, while clinging tightly to the thread of self control that keeps you from closing the gap.

Then he’s looking at you and he’s so close. Lights from the tv flicker off his brown eyes, drawing you in further. It wouldn’t take much effort to press your lips to his. Before you can stop yourself, years of college party instincts take over and you kiss him. You kiss Joel Miller. 

It’s a soft, lingering kiss, and then your mind forces you to withdraw. Joel sits still as a statue. He didn’t really kiss you back, but he didn’t push you away, and then it all comes crashing down. This isn’t some fucking frat party. He’s not a peer. This is Joel Miller. You spring to your feet. 

“Shit- fuck, Joel. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Your hands tangle in your hair. “I should go.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Joel stands. His hand cups your elbow, head stooping to be at eye level with yours. Tears shine in your eyes again. 

“It’s not actually.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, desperate to stop them. You’re not sure you can handle more tears right now. 

“Sweetheart, I promise. It’s not a big deal. You’re goin through a lot.” 

Your shoulders drop with relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiles. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight if you don’t want to be alone. I’ll take the couch.” 

And you want to say yes so badly. It sits on the tip of your tongue. You imagine what it would be like to curl up under his sheets, be immersed in him, but you swallow the quick response down. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay at home.” 

Joel nods. You think you catch some relief in his eyes. He probably wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. 

“I don’t know how long you’re planning to hang around, but you’re welcome to join us for breakfast tomorrow. Sarah usually makes pancakes on Saturdays. I’m not a huge pancake person, but she loves it.”

You decide at that moment Joel Miller is a saint. You just made a fool of yourself. He shouldn’t want to see you again, let you around his kid, but he invites you over for breakfast, offers up his bed. 

“I’ll think about it.” You walk to the door. “Thanks. For everything.” You mean it too. 

“Of course. It’s what neighbors are for.”

You laugh. “Pretty sure this goes past the moral obligations of being neighbors.”

Joel shrugs. “You’ve been the one steady female influence in Sarah’s life. Pretty sure it goes past the moral obligations of being a babysitter.”’

A smile ghosts over your lips. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You open the front door. The wood of the front porch is still warm against your bare feet. Joel leans against the door frame. “Night, Sweetheart.” 

You wave, dashing across the street. You know you’re imagining it when you feel Joel watching you until your parents front door is shut behind your back, but you never hear his front door close. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

I carried over the taglist from Woman. If you were tagged and no longer want to be, please let me know! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

[rhaenella]

CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.7

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain

face claim: léon

a/n: the finale... once again, all songs mentioned are either by taylor swift or léon. happy reading x

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part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

masterlist

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Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 1,292,849 others

y/n: End & New Beginnings. ONE WEEK.

✨Is It Over Now?~Say Don’t Go~Bigger Than The Whole Sky~You’re Losing Me~Now That We Don’t Talk~Pretty Boy✨

View all 12,138 comments

user55: y/n’s latest masterpiece is incoming!!

user56: YES GIRL LETS GO

user57: omg finally 😱

user58: can’t fucking wait 💛

user59: babe are you realizing you’re releasing on friday the 13th 💀

user56: y/n is like “i’ve conquered all this year’s bad luck already, no one can stop me”

6 October

Liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 1,450,288 others

y/n: It feels like it’s been a long time coming and now it’s here, my new EP ‘End & New Beginnings’ 🤍 Been a few sleepless nights making this to be honest. Ups and downs like always. But now I’m just so happy to let go of it and let you have it, and hopefully you’ll embrace it and make it yours. 

To the incredible people who’ve been a part of this record, THANK YOU! Couldn’t have done it without you… 

Here’s to the end & new beginnings 🕊️

View all 14,159 comments

taylorswift: Perfection 🥰✨🎼😍💋

y/n: ❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo: ART.

Liked by y/n

lilymhe: Beautiful work sweetie, I can’t with how talented you are 🥹 You made me cry the entire 23 mins (and then again cuz it was on repeat)

y/n: Awww, thank you love 🥰 and I’m sorryyyy 🙊

alex_albon: It’s so so good! I didn’t cry tho…

lilymhe: Liar

Liked by y/n

landonorris: Wow 💕

Liked by y/n

yourbestfriend: You’ve outdone yourself once again, darling, love you

y/n: I love you more baby

user60: as someone who’s just gone through a terrible breakup too, i cannot express how comforting it is to hear these songs and realize i’m not alone

Liked by y/n

13 October

—

You let your phone drop to the bathroom counter, blinking slowly, unable to fathom the conversation that had just taken place. Had he really just said those things? Scrolling through the texts confirmed that yes, he had indeed. The bastard.

Charles had always been the jealous type. But attacking you like that when he had been the one to… It was absolutely ridiculous. Apparently he still couldn’t—or wouldn’t—grasp the depths of how much he had actually hurt you.

You’d loved him with all of your heart. Until he had ripped it out and hurled it to the floor, letting it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Yet, even then, you would’ve forgiven him. If only he’d apologised. If only he’d shown true remorse. But he hadn’t. And so you’d been forced to walk the path of mending your own heart, and move on with your life.

Perhaps a small part of you had hoped that he could be happy for you. That somehow, even after everything, you would be able to greet each other normally—that you could coexist peacefully. But as his texts just now had demonstrated, that wasn’t going to happen. Not right now. And definitely not next week in Texas. You sighed. It would’ve been too good to be true, anyway. Especially considering who you were currently seeing…

A light knock sounded at the door, startling you out of those thoughts. 

“Are you almost ready to go, darling?” a male voice asked, soft.

Right. Dinner. Celebrations. 

You had been in the midst of applying the finishing touches to your makeup and outfit before Charles had interrupted, quite literally shocking you to the core when his name had appeared on your lock screen. He’d been the last person you’d expected to hear from today.

You swallowed the bitter taste that Charles’ texts had managed to leave behind. He wasn’t worth it, you repeated to yourself. You weren’t going to let his shenanigans ruin a perfect night—a perfect date. You ran a hand through your hair and readjusted the necklace around your neck when the bathroom door creaked open behind you. 

Looking up, your eyes met your handsome, new boyfriend’s through the mirror. He was smiling, eyebrows raised in silent question, ever patient as he waited for you to finish up. You felt your pulse quicken at the sight of him, dressed to perfection in a dark suit, hair neatly tousled.

As always, his presence was able to reassure you within the blink of an eye, the tense muscles in your neck and shoulders relaxing as you gladly let all of your complex emotions fall away.

“Yes,” you nodded, a genuine smile spreading across your lips. “I’m ready.”

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THE END

but who is she with? well, there’s a little (and not so subtle) easter egg that refers back to the beginning of part 6 that will confirm certain things… have you spotted it?

thank you everyone for coming along on this ride! it’s been a hell of a lot of fun writing and creating this story 🥰 my apologies to all the y/n x charles shippers out there, but as our songbird said: here’s to the end and new beginnings…

Now, if you'd like, please cast your votes below :)

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

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Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso @dessxoxsworld @treehouse-mouse @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @clown-fc @stopeatread @vanishingcherry @bb-swift @leclercdream @scenesofobx @kagatinkita @allywthsr @evieepepi08 @viennakarma @riverjane-d @httpjeonlicious @madnesstaking0ver @futurecorps3 @celesteblack08 @sadg3 @simxican @glow-ish @spideybv28 @laneyspaulding19 @tswizzleismother @slytherinfolk25 @merchelsea @1655clean @urgirlnextdoorr @cixrosie @lightdragonrayne @lxclerc @hopexcroc @nichmeddar @imthebadguyyy

[itstheghostofmypast]

21.19

University AU Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: He knows when you are sleeping. He knows when you're awake - at this point, she was borderline afraid of him and his correct judgement.

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: None

Word Count: 838

Est.Read Time: 4 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: wow two in one day? Damn, I must be desperate.

“Am I drooling?” Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she pushed her glasses up her face, resting them on top of her head, using them to keep the hair off her face, glaring at the man on the screen. Of course, he'd do this every time she'd decide to stay in and revise - moron.

The day had begun like any other gruelling day, weekend, or not, Friday was merely just the same as Monday for her. Considering she didn't have classes tomorrow, there was only one thing she was going to do, revise, something she'd encourage him to do as well, until he'd hit her with the “I study five days a week, I can relax over the weekend.”

Sure, that's easy to say when you're Choi San, boy wonder, the golden boy, lady luck would just follow him around - not that she was any better. Point is, sometimes it came naturally to him, he may not be the smartest but he was always the most confident and well liked and on any other day she would've been giggling and giddy at the thought of him having eyes only for her, not today though.

With a scoff she swiped to the next picture, and the next, until her breath hitched at the last one, something about the closeup picture had every ounce of feminism leave her body, her eyes flickered to the caption, her face flushing at the cookie emoji, her words ringing in her ears, “You're so hot Sannie, I could bake cookies on you!”

In her defense, she was severely drunk that night, and severely tired of her pent up feelings for the man who she had been mutually pinning on for two whole semesters but was too afraid to make a move, and he was too afraid of pushing her away- until of course Choi Jongho took them out for a couple of drinks. Turns out her tolerance was worse than San's, two shots in and she was wasted, leaning against the man’s side, mumbling about how bad her day was, and then somehow ended up saying that.

She shivered at the stupid flashback, visibly cringing at the memory, to think she had just opened her account to sift through stupid reels, to relax for ten minutes, and now for the past forty minutes she had just been staring at the three pictures, as if she had not been more intimate with the man- perhaps it was true, he was hotter with clothes on, or perhaps she just needed to wash her mind with some bleach.

Scoffing at the thought, she took a shameless screenshot of each picture - no, she was not going to ask him to send these pictures to her? What to prove him right? To boost his ego? No, thank you, one should never inflate the balloon of ego man carries around with him.

She had placed the phone down and picked up a pen, but the loud ringer had her squeak like a mouse, fumbling with the pen before she picked up her phone blindly,

“H-hello!?”

“...You saw, but you didn’t like…are you playing hard to get?”

She scoffed at the audacity of this bastard, leaning against her seat, “Didn’t see anything special.”

‘Darling, if I come home and find screenshots-”

“Why are you shamelessly thirst-trapping your girlfriend anyway?” She cut him off instantly, making a mental note to delete the pictures later.

“Because she won't pay attention to me!” He whined, she could ‘hear’ his pout, especially when added in his pouty complaint, “We could be devouring this platter together- and-and then we could have had the mint-choco couple's special!”

With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose, “And then spend the entire weekend at the gym like a dog?”

“Woof! Woof! Sounds like a date,” he snorted, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he struggled with the keys, letting out a hearty laugh at her joke.

“Careful don't let Mingi hear you barking like that!”

“I'll make sure of that, now if I were you, I'd put away those horrid notes,” he mumbled closing the door behind him as he walked towards their room, ignoring her whining and complaining, one he could now hear live as well before he stood at the door frame and cleared his throat, catching her all curled up against the desk, in her swivel chair.

She turned to look at him, almost dying at the thought of an intruder then visibly relaxing at the sight of her lover, neither of the two hanging up.

“Ice-cream? And then we can cram together?” He spoke into the phone, raising the plastic bag to show her a tub of mint chocolate ice cream.

Rubbing her chin she pretended to think about his offer, only to giggle when he came stomping closer threatening to place the wet bag on her notes, earning a squeal from her, before she hugged him by the waist pulling him closer, looking up at him, with a smile, one that matched his, both staring at each other like love-sick puppies “That's not a bad offer, Mr.Choi.”

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

[sadlynotthevoid]

Once I had this dream about a modern lcf AU where Lily was like 13~14yo and somehow got involved into an otome-novel-ish type of drama. What I mean is: some girl at school was going around acting like she was such a sweetheart and making others believe Lily was a mean rich girl who bullies her.

She was very sad because a lot of people, including some friends, actually fell for it and treated her as if she was a villain. More and more people avoided her and frowned when they saw her. People who she used to play and chat now talked bad about her. And only a few close friends seemed to believe in her and treat her kindly.

She's brave and bold, but she feels really lonely right now.

And she didn't know how to tell her family. She hasn't heard that any of them had had such a problem before. What if they don't understand? (What if they don't believe her?)

One day, Cale (the original one) entered into her room while she was crying after a bad day. His brain's alarms started to sound. Whom the fuck hurt his little sister? She's a good kid who only wants to train with swords and eat sweets.

So he sat next to her and comforted her, softly humming a song. It felt so nostalgic (though she's not sure why) that Lily ended up spilling out everything. He promised things were going to get better. Then proceeded to distraught her with a gift and a promise to sparr with her.

It was Friday at that moment. On Monday, Lily went back to school just to find out everyone acting strange. Not bad, just strange.

When she asked, her classmates explained that the troublesome girl's mother had carried her from house in house to confess the truth during the weekend. She and her mother were at the headmaster's office at the moment.

Only some people apologized, but no one kept treating her like a bad omen.

Lily didn't know how, but she was sure that Cale was somehow behind this.

Other points about the dream:

-Lily and Cale got close after this. He takes her to and from school quite often. They spar together when Cale is at home or Lily tries new things with him.

-Probably because of the reason above, I remember a scene of them ice skating at an ice rink. They seemed to like it, so hc that it becomes an usual activity for them.

-They take Bassen out for a break when he seems too meddle into his studies. Then the three of them end up sitting at an ice cream shop or a coffee shop, dumming around and ocassionally getting tutoring from Cale.

-I think Cale was on his last year of college here, but he also had a business. I think it was a fashion business but I'm not sure. I don't know why he was taking college classes when he already had a sucessful business, he's weird like that. Probably because he was bored.

-Rok Soo was his roommate. I mean it like platonic roommates, not the vine. Cale somehow convinced him to work at his company after college.

-Ohn and Lily became friends after this.

-The rest of the Henituse family didn't find out about the incident until months later. They freak out a bit before Lily tell them that Cale already solved it. And Bassen is like "yeah, that tracks", which turns into an explanation about his own past bullying situation. Which leads to them connecting the dots. They freak out.

-Cale is walking between classes when he gets a call from Deruth. Half of the campus could heard the "CaLE hENiTuSE, did you sabotage yourself to help Bassen?!". And the "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?! YOU COULD HAD BEEN HURT!". A few seconds later, it was the whole campus that heard the "AN ACT? IT WAS ALL AN ACT?!".

-Thanks to the people who were near enough to listen to Cale's replies, now the whole campus labeled him of eccentric genius. The general consensus is that he's a good person, too.

-The acting class teacher kept running after Cale, trying to get him into his class after he heard Deruth's last scream. He tries harder after he overhears Cale saying "what? Like it was difficult. You guys are just easy to fool" when his childhood friends asked. Amiru is between the best students, she's definitely not easy to fool.

[blackbat05]

Friday Evenings

Evan Buckley x Reader (Not Gender Specified)

Plot: It’s another Friday evening at the library, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Kinda like a comfort piece for myself. Also, I need to start writing again so I guess this is the way to go. Enjoy!

“Knock, knock!”

I look up from my laptop to find Evan holding a bag of takeout. “Uh, I know there's strictly no food in the library, but I was hoping you could make an exception.” 

“Well, perks of being the library assistant. Come on over.” I invite him behind the circulation desk and draw the blinders. “Your timing is immaculate, I was just about to finish up the last bit of cataloging.” 

“Cool, no rush.” Evan sets the bag down. “Can I take a look?” Curious Evan, always eager to learn more about everything around him. That was also what made him so attractive. 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it’ll just bore you.” 

“Hey, how do you know what bores me?” His eyes twinkle and set himself beside me. My fingers quickly fly across the keyboard, entering the right value and category into each empty box. I scan the barcode of each book, registering it into the database before sticking the respective stickers on the book. 

“Finished!” Despite the seemingly small task, it was still a task completed. 

“That was amazing.” 

“Says my boyfriend that fights fires for a living.” I dismiss him casually. 

“Don’t do that.” Evan admonishes. “Did you know that in the past, people had to flip through thousands of cards to find the book that they wanted?” He gives me another fun fact to which I am amazed by once again. “You guys are like the keeper of books. Without you guys, there’s no knowledge and the whole world would burn to the ground.” 

“And that’s why you’re my biggest hype man.” I say, giving him a kiss. “On behalf of all library staff, I would like to thank you for acknowledging our tireless efforts.” Fishing out a box of chow mein, I find my mouth salivating as I dive into the springy noodles. 

Night falls as Evan and I talk about our week. From crazy rescues to patrons of different personalities, there was no dull moment. 

“Lisa was so sweet. I always love to see when a child is so enthusiastic about reading. You hardly ever see that these days.” You gush. 

“Tell me about it. Maddy and Chim are really trying their best to build that habit in Jee.” Evan agrees.

A clacking of shoes could be heard from behind the entrance. A stray strand of noodle hangs limply from Evan’s mouth. My eyes widen at the noise as I put a finger to my lips.

“Shit! I thought Marianne left! She’s gonna kill me if she finds out.” I hissed, eyes darting around wildly for a solution. Evan’s a step ahead of me as he swiftly removes all the damning evidence and packed it into the takeaway bag before ducking down under the circulation desk.

Not a second later, Marianne enters, completely unaware of the chaos that just happened.

“Hey! I left something behind. I need it for tomorrow’s class.” She comes closer and I can feel the sweat trickling down my back. I quickly push my chair to block her way, earning a curious stare from her.

“No worries! I can get it for you. Just stay right there.”

Before she can say anything else, I grab the cursed notebook belonging to Marianne, making back to my seat in top speed.

“Er… thanks!” Marianne slightly cocks her head in confusion. “You sure you okay? You seem a little jumpy.”

“Totally! Just can’t wait to get out of here. It’s a Public Holiday tomorrow after all.” I laughed. Somehow, I knew that Evan groaned from under the table at my poor attempt.

Marianne shrugs, taking her notebook. “Well, don’t stay long!”

She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

"Ouch..." Evan barely manages to get himself back on the chair. He grins at me. "Some dinner that was huh?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to give Marianne an opportunity for me to become office gossip. You know how older ladies are."

"Trust me. Have you seen Eddie's Aunt?"

The two of us burst into laughter, quickly piping down just in case Marianne was still within the vicinity.

"Anything I can help with?" Evan asks as we pack away the containers. "I need to fight the food coma."

"Hm... well I do need to shelve back today's returns." You tell him. "If we split up, it should be done in no time and we're out of here."

"Sounds like a plan."

I grab a trolley for Evan and assign him to a row. The two of us worked seamlessly, the rolling of the wheels on the carpet was the only sound that filled the library.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"I'm happy for you." He says sincerely. It doesn't take me long to piece together what he was referring to.

"You know, it still hurts sometimes." I tell him as I shelve a couple more books before going down the aisle. "But it hurts less."

The memories of not living up to the expectations of those who depended on me float around in my mind. The disappointment on people's faces when I told them I couldn't continue. The anger and self-hatred that I experienced because I essentially threw all that hard work and effort into the drain.

"Don't go there." Evan says sharply. "Don't beat yourself up for things that you couldn't control."

I give a weak smile. Evan had enough confidence for the two of us.

"You did what was the best in that moment. You just didn't know that it wasn't the right thing for you. That's okay. I mean look at me! I was wandering around aimlessly before I found the 118. It seems you may have found your place."

"What if it doesn't work out again?" My inner voice wins the battle to be let out into the open.

"Then you try again." Evan says it, as if it's so simple. "We're not going to put ourselves in a box for the rest of our lives. We got to try new things when we can. And that's exactly what you're doing."

The both of us reach the end of our respective aisles, cart empty. Evan comes close and hugs me. "Maddie says that hugs can really help to improve a person's mood."

Did I save an entire country in my past life for Evan to be by my side?

"You always know the right words to say."

"That's because they're the truth." Evan helps with the paper bags. "Now, as much as I really enjoyed secretly flouting the library rules, we should head for desert." His eyes twinkle. "I'm thinking of that gelato place down the street."

He knew the right words to say and the way to my stomach? Scratch that, he saved an entire continent with his selfless behavior.

"You took the words right out of my mouth."

Evan smiles widely and gets up from his chair.

“Come on. We’re not going to waste a perfectly good evening.”

Like I said, I didn’t know what I did to deserve Evan Buckley.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Secure in your Lap

ft Nanami Kento

a/n: I can't believe I finally wrote thisI So this was inspired by this ask from @sitarawrites. It was supposed to be a cute fluffy fic, but somehow devolved into this angsty piece, so idk. Although I wrote this fic with a desi/asian reader in mind, I think anyone with a difficult relationship with their parents can relate to this, and I hope it comes across that way.

Rating: 13+, nothing explicit or sexual

Warnings: difficult family dynamics, mentions of familial trauma, guilt, manipulation

Pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

Summary: A phone call from reader's mother results in her remembering all the reasons she's grateful for her now fiance.

Word Count: 2343

Nanami masterlist

It’s never a good day when your mother calls. Sometimes you wonder why you put up with it and allow her to test your boundaries, despite setting a schedule that you would not be calling her except for Tuesday and Friday nights.

Even the hour spent on those nights are tedious at best. They never make you feel better; it's all for her. It makes her feel better. And despite the fact that you have graciously made this time for her, she never seems to appreciate it. In fact, most of these conversations are one-sided. You’ll have your headphones in, while she chatters away, as you try to focus on other tasks, like folding laundry, or tidying up the general clutter that always accumulates in the living room, throwing in the occasional ‘uhm hm’ every few minutes so that she knows you’re still on the line.

You’ve learned to tune out most of the conversation because very little of it is ever relevant to you. Unless you hear a few key words such as ‘dad’ or ‘finances’ or ‘house’ you don’t really pay attention to the conversation at all. Because you know how most of these conversations go. They start with her talking about her day, complaining about her job. Then she complains about your dad, despite knowing you’ve heard it all before. Then it devolves into blaming other people for circumstances she’s in right now based on events that happened long ago. 

When all of these topics are exhausted, she gets to her juiciest arsenal; you. Oh, the things she has to say about you, about how you were such a wonderful child, sweet and obedient and how you suddenly became this rough woman who she doesn’t know how to talk to anymore. Or how you’ve stopped visiting of late, that you’re never home for the holidays, and that she blames your boyfriend for this. Then it’s criticism of your life choices, starting with how you moved in with your boyfriend while unmarried, the fact that he’s not from the same ethnic background as you, or the fact that she blames your ‘attitude’ on him because he defends you from her each time. 

Today it was about how you could do so much better than him, and you finally snap. 

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence, then with uncontained glee, she says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Well relationships sometimes don’t work out, it’s ok-”

“Because he asked me to marry him.” You finish bluntly, cutting her off. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore because he’s my fiance.” You wait for the bomb to drop.

“Oh.” Your mother’s voice sounds tight, like it’s been stretched taut between pins on a tacking board. “And when did this happen?”

“He proposed last Sunday.”

“And I’m finding out just now. You really must hate me…”

“Don’t do that,” You warn, keeping your voice deadly calm. You knew if you raised it or gave any signs that her words had affected you, it would give her a rush of satisfaction. “Either you’re happy for us or you’re not. Now which is it?”

“Well, it hardly matters now does it? Although I supposed I should be grateful you’re marrying him after all this time. There’s nasty gossip back in our community…so at least you’ve spared me from the embarrassing idea that you wouldn’t marry a man you’ve been living with like an unprincipled woman.”

“How lovely,” you said through gritted teeth. “Be sure to tell the community I have zero fucks to give them as well.”

“Language…I raised such a proper girl, when did you start saying filth like this?”

“I have to go mom. Your behavior will determine if you’re invited to the wedding or not.”

“You are the type to exclude your mother from your own wedding.I’ve known that for years. So it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise. Anyway, talk to you later…Friday night now?”

She disconnects the call and you sit there in disbelief, heart racing. Every time you stand up for yourself, you know it should feel like a victory but somehow, she manages to even steal that from you. You sigh and rest your head against the back of the car seat.

You had just driven home after a long day’s work and decided that it would be easier to talk to your mom in the car and finish it off since you didn’t want to detract from the peace you feel at home. You feel tears prick the back of your eyes and your throat feels like it’s closing in on itself. 

Why did you let her in on your life? There’s a strange sense of loyalty to her despite her abuse of you. Because despite everything, there are certain things she did which she wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t loved you. Putting you through your degrees, both bachelor’s and master’s. Letting you live at your parent’s house for free when you were in between jobs. Letting you borrow their car to get to job interviews. There’s signs of love there but why did it have to come attached with this emotionally manipulative price tag?

You let yourself cry for a short while, then hold up your left hand to admire the engagement ring your now fiance had picked out. A watery smile breaks out over your face as you look at it. You feel vain when you allow yourself to do this, but you can’t help it. You weren’t really looking at it for it’s monetary value, but more so for what it symbolized; the peace and balance he brought to your life, the maturity your own parents lacked while raising you, and the security that it didn’t matter if you made a bad choice, he’d never make you feel worse about it.

Wiping away your tears, you turn off the car and quickly look at yourself in the mirror. Thankfully your makeup hadn’t smudged much and you could chalk up the tiredness in your eyes as lack of sleep. You take a deep breath before getting out and entering your home. Your fiance was unloading takeout containers from a bag as you entered. He looks up and smiles warmly at you.

“Thought I heard you in the driveway,” he says as he comes over to embrace you, his arms enveloping you with affection. Nanami presses a kiss to your forehead then pulls you in closer, tucking your head under his chin.

You let yourself rest against the warmth of his broad chest, the comfortingly familiar feel of his body relief to the turmoil inside your chest. Resting your cheek on his chest, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply. 

“Y/n? Are you all right?”

Nanami always notices. There’s never a single moment when he’s out of touch with your feelings. He’s learned all the lines in your face, the way your different facial muscles contract or relax depending on how you're feeling. He notices the tension in your shoulders, the slight drop in energy in your step as you walk through the door. Nanami always notices. 

You slowly shake your head no. The flurry of feelings inside you, the hurt, the disappointment, the inability to cut off your mom for good, the overwhelming feeling of being inadequate, a disappointment, churn inside you to the point that you feel like you may never come out of this cyclone feeling like a winner. It’s so complex that you’re not even sure where to begin or how to put it into words. Your thoughts and feelings tangle like a ball of string, knotting into a mess of strands that are impossible to separate. 

“Kento.”

“Yes my love?” His hands run soothingly over your back. 

“I need your lap.”

That was all you could say at the moment. The complexity of everything was too much to bear. Over the years his lap has become a safe space for you. A quiet, designated spot where you could feel everything you wanted to, without any judgment. 

Nanami nodded wordlessly, gently taking your hand and leading you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you on top of his lap. Your feet wrap around his lower back, wedged between the sofa cushions and his body while your head rests on his chest, listening to his breathing and you try to match yours to his, a calming technique you’ve learned over the years.

His large hands play with your hair, stroking it, cupping the back of your head and gently pressing kisses to your forehead. He’s learned over the years that lap sessions meant you were in a state of distress and that it wasn’t his place to force you to talk. You would talk when you’re ready, if at all. 

“Mom?” he asks softly, his voice fluttering through the top of your hair. You merely nod, the thought of explaining it too difficult to even form words. A deep hum of understanding echoes from his chest and you close your eyes at the comforting sound.

Everything about him screamed security. You remember one time breaking a cup while making your morning coffee, the distinct crack of shattering porcelain filling the kitchen. You had flinched, waiting for the tirade of blame and accusations of clumsiness to come at you, only to see Nanami rushing over to you, concern etched all over his face.

“Are you all right? You didn’t get cut?” His words had brought you to tears, that his primary thought had been you and your safety, instead of a very replaceable coffee cup. No one yelling at you for making a mess in the kitchen, or muttering under their breath that you had wasted a usable mug. Nanami had, in a befuddled state, watched as you came to his side, wrapping your arms around him. It wasn’t until 2 weeks after the incident had happened that you had told him what that moment meant to you. 

And now here you were, again, allowing your mom to rob you of the happiness you had worked so hard to build. You're amazed at the patience Nanami has with you, at the way he always reassures you, never letting you forget your worth. That you're more than just your parents’ child. That you are a whole human being on your own, that has the right to live your life without their interference. 

“I don't think I want my parents at our wedding.” The words fall out of your mouth. There's lingering guilt but deep down, you knew it was for the best. 

Nanami adjusts himself on the couch and leans back against the cushions. Most of the time, he leaves handling your parents up to you, despite how much it bothers him that they ruin your mood every time. But there's understanding in his eyes. 

“Not even your dad? I thought you wanted him to give you away.”

“My dad’s an enabler. He'll never come if I don't invite my mom. Besides,” you inhale deeply and continue, “The only person worthy of giving me away is myself.” You gaze into his warm brown eyes, feeling proud that you had come this far. This would be your achievement today. That you were able to say these words and believe them. 

“That’s so very true sweetheart.” He gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Look at you, remembering your affirmations.”

Although it’s not much, you still feel yourself glowing at his praise. Growth on your end. “Besides, if they got involved, they’d hijack all the planning, blow it up into a grand ceremony even though that’s not what we want. It’s just easier without them.”

“Anything you want.” He brushes his lips against your hair.

“No, not anything I want. It’s your wedding too. I’d be ok if you wanted a ceremony. I imagine there’s lots of people you’d want to invite. I just won’t be inviting anyone from my side. Except for my best friend.”

He grasps your chin between his fingers and with sincerity asks you, “How did you imagine it?”

You consider this for a second. Previously, you had imagined the typical traditional wedding that people of your background were expected to have. But the image has been fading lately, and now, unburdened from your parents’ expectations, your mind immediately creates a picture.

“I want to do it at the beach. Just…no expectations, no one grumbling about how we skimped on decorations or other unnecessary things like flowers. I want…to walk down towards you on the sand, barefoot. Feel the ocean breeze on my face. There’s a small group of guests. Very minimalistic.”

He looks like he’s considering it for a moment but his expression doesn’t show signs of objection. “We could do that. Small wedding, intimate ceremony.”

“Really?” You look at him with love in your eyes.

“Really. I think all the people I want to invite would easily fit into this setting.”

You lean forward and wrap your arms around him tightly. There were simply no words to express how grateful you are for him, for his presence in your life. That you could actually be a family, just the two of you.  You lean back to take in all of him, just sitting serenely on the couch, in this shared space the both of you called home now. 

“Thank you, Kento.” You say quietly. You know it’s unnecessary, that his love is so very unconditional, no emotional price tags attached. “I know I’m not the easiest to love sometimes.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He draws you tightly to his chest. “It’s so easy to love you. Because every small thing you do is filled with love and consideration. Thoughtfulness. Emotion. And that’s enough. You don’t have to be more than that.”

Your heart swells as you hear his words, the only person to ever really understand just how much you needed to know those things. 

“I’m enough.” You whisper softly, still on his lap, resting comfortably in his embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closing.

I’m enough…

all banners and dividers by @cafekitsune

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 13

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang

Part 1

Monday night came and went with Billy somehow convincing you to let him stay. The two boys slept in the guest room staying up till four in the morning. Billy reminded Stu several times to keep his voice down but it did no good. You could hear the incoherent ramblings of the two psychopaths all night long. It didn't really matter if they were quiet or not. You couldn't fall asleep anyways. Thoughts of the last couple weeks plagued your mind. Even the nice talk you had with the cops at the hospital replayed in your mind over and over.

They pitied the pretty girl laid up in a hospital bed. Being a "helpless woman" worked in your favor when you played the part. Dewy had told his coworkers about his distaste towards the two boys who somehow lived through the slaughter at the Macher house. He didn't like Stu when he dated Tatum and he definitely didn't like him now. Billy was simply guilty by association. What really set Dewy off though was seeing how cold Billy looked at the funeral. "We don't want you to feel pressured or scared to tell us the truth. We can protect you." The officers said wanting you to change your story.

Of course you lied. What else were you supposed to do? Wincing in pain and a few fake tears simply pulled at their heartstrings. You thought you made the right choice. This was all for love wasn't it? You liked to picture your movie as a horror spin off of When Harry Met Sally. Billy was the brooding love interest with a enemies to lovers trope. Stu was the dopey, loveable, side kick, who's purpose in the film was to be the comedic relief. What did you bring to the movie? You needed to be different but in being so you were just like every other girl on television.

The week slowly passed with Billy and Stu staying at your place. Wednesday Stu decided to go back to school with Billy leaving you at home. You hated to say it but you loved the quiet. It felt like your husbands went off to work leaving you get things done around the house. Maybe you were delusional and your thought process was probably sexist but you enjoyed it. The job didn't feel forced upon you so you didn't see an issue. You cleaned up the guest room making sure to wash both of the boys laundry. After that you started on dinner.

Wednesday rolled by with both Billy and Stu thanking you for everything you did. You ate up the praise happily. They couldn't make it on their own and that's why they needed you. Thursday started with Stu and Billy kissing you before they left for school. Billy actually started to enjoy school now that Stu was there. The students of Woodsboro high thought the almost happy mood both boys seemed to be in was odd. It wasn't how a boyfriend was supposed to act when their girlfriend was brutally murdered.

Thursday was a breeze considering your side was almost completely healed. You actually started to get used to living with Billy and Stu. They helped with chores if you asked and they didn't complain. Well they almost didn't complain. No one could predict what Stu would say. Friday started just like the other days. "See you when we get home babe." Billy would kiss you grabbing his bookbag you held for him. "See ya Mrs. Crocker." Stu said kissing you a little longer than Billy did. They were arguably happier than you were. They weren't sure what they did in their past life to deserve you in this one but they were more than thankful.

You watched Billy's car pull away seeing Stu wave at you through the window. A smile tugged at your lips. Life was perfect. You shut the door locking it like always. The house was clean and you didn't have to start on dinner till later. For once you were at a loss for what to do. After weighing your options you decided to snoop through Stu's room. You had been in there several times to do laundry or fix the bedsheets but you'd never really looked around.

Stu was a cleaner person than you thought he'd be. Billy however took the cake for the cleanest. His clothes were folded and tucked away while Stu's sat in a crumpled pile on a chair. You had told Stu when he settled in that he could fill the drawers with his clothes and whatever else he brought. From the looks of the top drawer he decided to bring porn magazines. The woman on the cover had a simple blanket covering her crotch as her boobs fought the thin crop top holding them back. You wanted to ignore it. Ignore the feeling of inadequacy that made your stomach hurt. You slammed the drawer closed not caring who the magazine belonged to.

Billy pulled into the driveway with Stu laid out in the backseat. "If she made desert I might marry her Billy, I mean it." Stu was only half joking. "She wouldn't say yes. She's a smart girl." Billy smiled at his friend causing the boy to pout. You could hear the car doors slam outside letting you know the boys were home. You thought about screaming, maybe ripping the magazine to shreds. Every possible outcome had crossed your mind. You remained calm deciding to follow the rules you helped put in place. "There's my wonderful girlfriend." Stu skipped in the house immediately lifting you off the ground. He smacked your ass spinning you around before your feet found the floor.

You almost forgot you were mad. "You made brownies!" Stu chirped sending a look to Billy. He picked the chocolate square up from the glass dish popping it into his mouth. Billy closed the front door before he hung up his jacket. "What ring size do you wear?" Stu asked looking up at you with heart eyes as he sat down. You bit the inside of your cheek wanting to back out of the conversation to come. "What's wrong baby?" Stu asked sensing something was off. Billy walked into the kitchen joining the both of you. "What's the matter?" He crossed his arms leaning back on the counter. With a deep breath you spoke. "Can we talk about something?"

Stu thought it was silly question while Billy's expression stayed the same. "We can talk about whatever you want." Stu eyed your ass in the dress you were wearing as he leaned back in his chair. "I was cleaning your room when I found something." Panic flooded Stu's veins. Billy was too busy focusing on the fact you called it "their room." It was as if they lived there with you. "Found what?" The brownie he ate earlier seemed to dry up his throat within seconds. "You had a Hustler magazine in your drawer." Billy quirked up an eyebrow interested in where the conversation was going.

"So?" Stu asked genuinely not seeing your problem with it. You tried to keep your cool knowing this was a new experience for all of you. "So, I find it degrading. It's perverse and overall upsetting. I don't watch porn or read it. I would like it if you did the same especially in my house." You wanted to say more but you decided against it. The fact they even brought it to your house was alarming. You wanted to be the only thing they needed. The fact is you couldn't compete with an airbrushed woman.

Stu almost made a joke. It wasn't until he saw the serious look on your face he dropped it. You were actually upset. He was a little worried about you going through his things. But this was your house and you've done more for him in the past week than anyone in his whole life ever had. Porn wasn't a need but it definitely helped when the only thing on his mind was you. Billy had been more than accommodating thank God so he really had no reason to carry the magazine around. "Okay I'll get rid of it." Billy was surprised at Stu's immediate cooperation. He had always been a more submissive fellow. Billy had certainly used it to his advantage in the past. You were the only other person he's seen Stu behave this way with.

You didn't catch the way Billy looked at you in awe. "Really?" Even you were surprised. Stu nodded. "Yeah? I can still use my hand though right?" He pretended to jerk off making you look away. The show unfortunately made you feel a certain way. Billy took note of you and Stu's behavior. It's what he did. He studied people. "Um yeah I have no problem with that." It was an honest answer but now all you had was a sinful image in your head. "This is all very moving but I actually have plans for today." Billy spoke as he grabbed one of your brownies. Stu knew about his plans but he was still excited.

"You have plans?" You asked and Billy nodded after swallowing the bit he took. "Yes and they're with you two. So I suggest you go get ready." He wasn't sure how you would take the tone in his voice. If he knew you like he thought he did you'd smile and run off to play dress up. "Where are we going? I need to know what to wear." Stu thought the simple house dress you had on looked great but then again you could wear a burlap sack and he'd fall to his knees. "Wear something comfortable because we'll be walking a lot." That did nothing but raise more questions.

"So I can't wear heels?" Stu stood up from his chair creeping up behind you. In one swift motion he lifted you up again holding you like a princess. "You can wear heels. I'll carry you when your feet get sore." Billy rolled his eyes glad he had someone to share Stu with. Stu's antics worked wonders on you. "I think I'm going to wear jeans but I appreciate the thought." You kissed his lips making him grin. He sat you down letting you run upstairs to your room. Stu found a seat at the table once more.

"Please don't fuck this up." Billy huffed at his partner. "Why would I fuck this up?" He opened the fridge grabbing a bottle of Coke from the back. "Because man, you have a habit of getting comfortable and bored." He'd seen it before with Sydney. When they started dating Billy was over the moon. He bought flowers and chocolates, anything to show his love for the girl he knew for a few months. Once things slowed down Billy grew bored. The kisses were the same and so were the hand jobs. Billy assumed Sydney would cling to him after he murdered her mother but she did just the opposite. Pushing him away rather than pulling him in.

"I do not. Shit with Syd was different. Y/n is different." Stu would like to believe his friend but it was hard. Billy was troubled. That's the word he liked to use. Stu knew himself to be somewhat insane. He liked to please and be pleased. Billy asks him to murder he'd do it again and again. You ask him to stop? He'd never even look at a knife again. Billy looked out for himself. He would drink from a well till it ran dry. Leaving everyone else to die of thirst. Stu loved Billy but he worried about you more.

"I'm ready." You said throwing your bag over your shoulder. The silk button up you wore glistened in comparison to the brown dress pants you paired it with. "Where's the disco?" Stu jumped up getting a full look at your outfit. "I'm not sure yet. Billy how do I look?" You turned around giving him a full view. "You look great." His hands found themselves in his pockets. It was an anxious thing you picked up on. Stu over compensated with his words where Billy did the exact opposite. "Thanks. So we ready to go?"

Billy won the game of rock paper scissors making him the driver for the night. "It's not even fair I love this car more than he does." Stu complained as his arm lay draped over your shoulder. Billy's hand rested on your thigh as he drove. You didn't like him driving your car with one hand but you couldn't bare to make him move. The physical affection from both men made you the happiest woman in the world. "Can you please tell me where we're going?"

The smile on Billy face was aggravating because he knew something you didn't. "Can you stop asking every five seconds you're starting to sound like Stu." Stu leaned over your lap getting close to the driver. "Please, please, please, where are we going?" He whined just to piss of his partner. "Sit back shit face before I kick your ass." The threats were so common between the two of them they barley counted as threats. "How come you never threaten to kick my ass?" You ask leaning back on Stu. He placed a kiss on your head before locking his arms around you. "Do you want me to kick your ass?" Billy took his eyes off the road just for a second to see your face. "I might." You said enjoying the way your words seemed to sit underneath his skin. Billy hoped tonight ended the way he had planned.

"No fucking way!" You said as you practically pushed Stu out of the car. "Jeez don't mind me!" He said with a laugh. You looked up at the sign wondering how you didn't know the place existed. "We figured you'd like to go to an antique store." Billy and Stu knew they made the right choice once they saw the smile on your face. You walked into the store leaving the men to follow your shadow. "Good afternoon, how are you?" You asked the old man behind the desk. "I'm doing well, how bout' yourself?" Billy thought your immediate warmth towards strangers was dangerous. Some creepy old man might get the wrong idea. "I'm great." You said with a smile as you looked around.

"Billy come here!" You picked up the movie poster looking at the date. "That's awesome." Stu marveled as Billy read the print. "That's an original Exorcist poster." His fingers traced the frame. "Do you want it?" You asked happy to get it for him. The sad reality was he didn't have a place for it. "No it's okay. I wouldn't have a place to hang it up anyways." Stu sneezed grabbing your attention. "Bless you." You said laughing at his goofy sneeze. "I'm allergic to dust." He wasn't the best person to take antique hunting. Stu grabbed your hand walking around the store with you. Billy lingered around making sure you were the only people around besides the owner.

"Oh my god!" Stu looked at the room full of old clothes like it was a room full of old clothes. You acted as if it was filled with gold. "I'm going to spend so much money." You cried knowing you had no self restraint. "I'm paying for it." Stu chimed in happy to help. It was something you couldn't accept. "I can pay for myself. You should spend your money on stuff you want." It had bugged you since you went to the mall how Stu felt the need to buy something for everyone. Never once picking something out for himself. Billy caught up with the both of you being immediately uncomfortable with the racks of clothing.

"What's with the face Loomis?" Stu asked looking through the shirts with you. Billy just shook his head. The idea of used clothing bothered him. He'd wear hand-me-downs if they were washed but just touching every piece of used fabric wasn't for him. "I'm getting this and neither of you are going to stop me." Stu said pulling a t-shirt from the rack. You read the shirt Stu held out loud. "Orgy organizer. Yeah that screams Stu Macher." You tried to sound unamused but you couldn't hide the humor in your voice. "Do you know what else screams Stu Macher?" He leaned down like he was going to whisper the answer but instead he pinched your ass making you yelp.

"You should be a comedian." You rolled your eyes seeing Billy actually laugh at his friend's stunt. Billy had done nothing but scan the place for possible on lookers. You tried to come up with a way to get him to loosen up. "Billy could you come here for a second?" You beckoned him over with your finger making sure you were both out of the eyesight of the shop keeper. He walked over to you not being able to ask what you needed. Your lips met his making the world around him disappear for a brief moment. His lips parted letting your tongue roam the new space. Billy's hands started to play with the button on your pants before he remembered where he was. "What the hell was that for?" He whisper yelled aggravated and slightly turned on by your stunt.

"I'm not sure but I need to see it again. For scientific purposes." Stu shrugged as Billy glared at him. You smiled liking the red tint slowly creeping up on Billy's cheeks. "You're trying to get yourself into trouble." Billy ran his hand through his hair trying to compose himself. If Billy was just now realizing you liked to instigate he really had a lot to learn. The rest of your time in the store Billy kept his eyes on you and Stu. Your little "stunt" as Billy liked to call it worked. He was more worried about what you would do rather than anyone's wandering eyes.

"Do you seriously need more dishes?" Stu asked as you sat the pyrex dishes in the back of your car. "You spent twenty dollars on a "hot dogger." You have no room to talk." Billy said making you laugh. "It electrocutes the hot dogs! Who wants one when we get home?" You loved old things but you'd have to pass on the offer. "This is why we don't let him cook." Billy told you as he started the car. You and Stu piled in ready for the next destination on the list. This time around you decided to trust the man driving. Stu chose the music on the way there. For the first time in years you felt like a normal girl. Your situation was far from normal you were well aware of that. Most girls didn't have two men they considered their boyfriends and most girls didn't kill. You couldn't help the situation you found yourself in. All you could do was make the best of it.

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

Part 14

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

[kining-the-evil]

Hi I was wondering if you could write a Steve rogers x daughter reader?

Like he gets back from a mission and he has a nightmare but the daughter is involved in the nightmare somehow. So when he wakes up he rushes over and realizes that she is ok and she is safe. So he just cuddles with her for the rest of the night to protect her and to calm his nerves.

Thank you and 100% your choice

My Safety In The Night

Summary: This mission got to Steve in a way he’s not used to

warnings: nightmares, talks of death, seeing a dead body in the dream

an: reader is around 13 years old.

Steve was exhausted as he walked into the section of the compound that was set as an apartment for you and himself. While Steve’s body was no stranger to pain, this mission just seemed to get to him. Maybe it was the length of the mission, or the fact that the kids they were protecting at one point reminded him of you, but he decided he didn’t care. He just wanted to check on you, change, shower- no. That could wait until tomorrow. The less he did the sooner he could go to bed himself.

He started towards your room, but changed directions at the last moment. It was a Friday night, so you had probably fallen asleep on the couch. The living room had no lights on, but the tv had the credits of one of your favorite movies playing on the tv.

“Kid, it’s almost midnight-“ his words stoped when he caught sight of you. You were curled up in a ball with a blanket covering you, fast sleep. A box of pizza was on the coffee table, a couple of pieces in it.

“Never mind,” he chuckled lightly, running a hand gently over your head to make sure you didn’t wake up. Hr grabbed the box, stealing a piece before sticking the whole thing in the fridge and moving on to get ready for bed.

———————

Steve wasn’t sure why he was running, but he did know if he wasn’t quick something bad would happen. The ground was uneven, slowing him down quite a bit which just frustrated him more.

“Dad!” He stoped I’m his tracks the best he could, spinning to try and find the source of the voice. It almost sounded like… “Dad!”

“Y/n?” He called, hoping your could hear him. “Baby, where are you?!”

“Dad!” Your voice sounded loudest to his right, so that’s the way he ran.

“Y/n!” He continued to call for you, trying to follow your own screaming.

“Dad! Help!”

Finally, he came to a cliff and found you. You were held by a faceless man, both of you standing far to close to the edge.

“The great Captain America. You took everything from me, and now I’ll take everything from you.” Without any more warning the man pushed you, your scream echoing through the area.

Steve sat straight up in bed, his shirt soaked with sweat making it stick to his body. He wasn’t sure what was louder, the beating in his chest or his head. Where were you?

He quickly got out of bed, practically running out of his room and towards the couch where he had left you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why hadn’t he moved you?!

He finally took a breath of air when he found you, still asleep in the same spot. A glance at the clock told him there were a number of hours until morning. He couldn’t go back to bed, he just…couldn’t. Instead, he walked over to the couch and picked you up.

“W-what,” you started to fight him, but he quickly calmed you.

“It’s Just me kid,” he mumbled while sitting down. He kept you pushed against his chest, trying to calm himself down.

“Are you ok?” You yawned, staying wrapped up in his arms.

“I’m fine, just…wanted to see you,” he rubbed light circles on your back. “Get some more sleep.” He knew he’d be staying up the rest of the night, closing his eyes would just show your face as you feel off the cliff. But he was fine to just sit here, as long as it meant you were safe.

[fungalittleweirdo]

Maybe one one of the brothers(rise) with a crush on reader but hears from Casey that resder marries/falls in love with someone else/doesn't make it.Whatever you feel like.ALSO LETS GO NEW WRITING BLOCK‼️‼️‼️

cyrill my friend i am going to feed you so well here

hmmmm

donatello x male reader, set a couple years after kraang-- the good timeline

i asked my friends to pick a turtle and a gender so i got that lol

i'll get more organised as i write more on this blog trust meee </3

enjoy!

Communicate With Your Lab Partner, Donatello!

"I see the way you look at him, Donnie."

He blinks, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head with an awkward laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about Casey, it's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about him lately. I hope he and his eventual partner are happy together, that's all. I want my lab partner to be happy." Donatello's face contorts for a moment before it finally lands on an off-putting smile, "Anything but could affect the efficiency of which our labs are conducted."

Casey shakes his head and looks away, "Now I regret telling you about them." The time traveller sighs, standing up to frown at the softshell mutant. Donatello waves him off and urges him out of his lab, muttering about how Casey has nothing to worry about and that he would carry on like normal. But that very night he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his lab, blinking away the blurring of his vision. Donnie reaches for his phone without adjusting his posture, holding it above his face to check the time.

2:42 am.

He yawns, scrolling up to find his lab partner had texted him a funny picture of some cat meme. Donnie's lips curl up and his chest blooms with warmth as he reacts to the photo with a laughing face emoji, then responds with a meme of his own. His friend reacts with a straight faced emoji, responding with you're not funny, stop pretending you are. Donatello rolls his eyes, continuing to talk to him as the hours pass by, and when he checks the time again it is seven in the morning. It's time for the spiny softshell to head to bed even though he was meant to stay up all night regardless.

Lab Partner (7:02 AM): I know you should be heading to sleep now, but before you go, what's the weather going to be like Friday night?

Donatello sits up straight and winces as his neck's pain receptors send massive signals to his tired turtle brain, screaming at him to go to bed. He opts to shrimp over his keyboard as he checks his weather prediction algorithm, finding that there would be a seventy percent chance of rain over the tri-state area. He texts the extensive information to his lab partner, then asks him why he needs to know.

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): I asked this person out to go to Central Park expecting it to be sunny because of this week's forecast

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): But I trust your weather algorithm a lot more

Lab Partner (7:12 AM): Especially since they let Warren Stone back on the air

Delivered (7:12 AM): Scoff, any weatherman who associates themselves with that literal worm cannot be trusted for the weather. You came to the right turtle.

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Yeah, I know I did

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Get some rest, okay Don? I love you <3

Donatello's heart skips a beat and he stares at the screen for a moment, blinking at the three silly little words he somehow feels like he stole. Just for a moment, I could pretend... he thinks, pursing his lips as he responds in kind, then gets up from his chair to turn everything off in his lab, save for the emergency low lights. He begins heading toward his bedroom with his phone off in his hand.

The softshell is now lying awake, staring at his ceiling as he lay in bed fantasising of silly things he thought could never happen. It's bothering him, he knows it, but he doesn't feel like paying a visit to Dr. Feelings. His hand's gentle caresses on his plastron remind him of how his lab partner would hug him from behind and sway with him as he works, even though it always distracts him for a moment. The stim always brings him down to earth when he is in too deep in his work. Donatello misses the way he nuzzles into him when he's sleepy, spending days working on something together and letting him sleep on the air mattress he has set up in the corner. He misses the opportunities in which his lab partner would ask for him to sleep beside him, curling up in each other's arms.

Now that he thinks about it, Donatello and his lab partner are not strictly platonic, the way they interact with each other is quite intimate. The turtle blushes at the memory of his lips carefully planting kisses on his lab partner's head, and him doing the same. It was kismet, the way they met, since Donnie's lab partner was a former member of the Purple Dragons. Kendra let him go after he started spending too much time with the softshell rather than just spying on him. He risked so much for me, Donatello thinks, wringing his hands as he blinks away his exhaustion. He decides to take matters into his own hands, falling asleep with an uneasy feeling in his gut.

~

Donnie's lab partner wakes up with a start after a four hour sleep, promising Leo he would sleep more, then berating him for staying up late too. He makes himself a small breakfast and goes through his phone, then gets ready for his free day. Donnie calls him and he answers with a dramatic groan of annoyance. "Don, I swear, go back to sleep," he starts packing a bag to go out while listening to Donnie whine over the phone.

"I know! I know! You told me to rest and I already did. But you didn't sleep enough either so you're a hypocrite. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Can it wait? You need to sleep, dude."

"No, it can't."

Donnie seems to take a shaky breath, then speaks again.

"I need to tell you something important and I can't wait another day to tell you."

The mutant's lab partner sighs, then nods, even if 'Tello couldn't see him make the gesture.

"Yeah, I'll be over tonight. As long as you rest."

"I promise... I love you."

He pauses, the words ringing in his ears, bouncing around in his head like a screensaver avoiding the corners of its device. He's never heard Donnie say those words out loud before. He's never said them to him either, so the initiative shocks him into silence. Before the boy could respond, Donnie hung up the call and he stands in the kitchen with toast crumbs in his palm and marmalade on his fingers.

The difference between saying it out loud and sending it over text is made apparent in the boy's head, a realisation taking over as his heart beat faster in his rib cage. Oh... no... Being Donnie's lab partner has been fun these past few years, especially developing a close friendship like the one they have, but he finally realises how he must have come across. I should get my errands done quick to be at the lair in a timely manner, he thinks, washing his hands and grabbing his things to step out of his apartment, locking the door and starting his day.

~

Donatello is bleary-eyed and yawning to the point where his throat is dry. He stumbles into the kitchen to look for a glass of water, asking S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to serve him some hydration. He gulps it down instantly and slams the glass down on the counter, then jumps at the voice in the corner of the kitchen.

"Happy to see you're drinking water, 'Tello."

An awkward smile plasters itself upon his face as he turns toward his lab partner, looking him up and down. He is wearing comfortable clothes as if he plans to stay a while. His tail twitches before he stops it from wagging in excitement.

"Ah, my favourite friend! I... I expected you to come to the lair much later."

"I can see that," He raises an eyebrow as he gives Donatello a once over, noting the black sweatpants he donned. "Cold?" The boy's arms snake their way around Donatello's waist and he jumps at the contact, nudging him away with a robotic laugh.

"Cold? Scoff! Who said I was cold?" Donatello now feels awake enough to serve himself his own water, watching it fill his glass as his friend stood beside him curiously. Then he gulps the entire glass down again.

"You usually wear clothes down here when you're cold. You don't opt for pyjamas like your brothers either, so you must be cold."

"Oh dear lab partner, how dare you use your observational skills on me."

Said lab partner chuckles and leans against the fridge. "You also don't reject my physical advances toward you... Is today a bad tactile sensory day?" He taps in a pattern against the countertop, signalling to Donatello that he is mildly worried. The softshell sighs and puts the glass down in the sink, stretching and cracking his limbs. He inhales through his nose, then exhales cool air that gradually calms him down.

"I am afraid of what I want to talk about."

The boy's eyes widen, his face depicts concern, and he moves on to sit on the stool beside the rack holding the pots and pans. Donatello goes to sit on the counter across from him. A couple beats of silence pass as the two look at each other, studying one another's body language. The turtle came to the conclusion that his lab partner is laidback enough to take the conversation seriously but without too much panic. He feels relaxed enough to continue talking, so he does.

"I am aware that the future Casey speaks of—whenever he feels ready to, that is—is much different compared to ours. Everything that happened in that timeline is completely irrelevant to now due to the butterfly effect. You know, how a flap of a butterfly's wings could summon a hurricane? Well... something he told me keeps nagging me. It keeps this voice in my head rambling on and on, it won't stop telling me things that make me feel... Things. I don't know what! I am feeling things and I hate when I do because I can't label them!"

Donatello stands up and begins pacing, cracking his fingers one by one as he continues to talk and his lab partner listens.

"Casey told me you had a partner in the future. It was great at first... spending a little under a decade together... then they were possessed by Kraang biomatter. You... you disobeyed Leo's orders to look for them, to capture them and keep them under control for when I found a serum to inject in them, one that could kill off the Kraang schmuck but leave their human flesh unaffected... But you didn't make it back to base."

He stands from the stool he sat on and approached Donatello, carefully holding his hands out, palms facing up. The softshell takes his hands and revels in their softness, visibly relaxing and staying put.

"Your passing is not what affects me the most," Donatello reaches up to cup his friend's cheek in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across his face. "It's you sharing your affections with anyone other than I. That is what is bothering me."

The boy freezes, blinking up at Donatello with a confused smile. "You're the only one I share moments like these with. I don't understand what you're saying," he giggles, reaching up to squeeze Donatello's hand. The scientist is equally as perplexed.

"I'm saying that I love you."

He stands up straighter, rigid and unyielding. Heat spreads upon his face and he looks away, his laugh wavering.

"You know, hearing that in person sounds a lot better."

Donatello still holds his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

"I love you too, Donnie."

The mutant feels lightheaded when he exhales, then leans in for a second before stopping himself. His lab partner grins, nodding while he bites his lip knowingly. Donatello springs into action, gripping his friend's shoulders and pulling him in to meld his lips on his, tasting, savouring, fluttering his eyes shut as a grin stretched across his face, parting from the kiss with muddy, blushing cheeks.

"Can we do that more? That was really nice. I would like to open a document for this... if you let me."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his favourite turtle closer.

"Yes, you may, 'Tello. We have all the time in the world."

[pianistbynight]

days 1-7 of a slow but meaningful summer

this is really the only part of traumerei that i can play sort of fluently...sort of, because you can still hear some hesitation as i try to remember the right notes 😅

thursday | 08/08/24

Started Leviathan Wakes

Tested out of U1 in Japanese and started U2 (loving its similarities to French cuz more familiarity = faster learning curve hopefully?🤞🏻)

Practiced piano...some old scales to warm up + the Clementi sonatina (coming back to it after a 2-3 day break was a good idea! somehow my steadiness has improved! also coming to appreciate metronome practice. sight-reading for the day = a few new bars on the 2nd page) + playing around with Kinderszenen (at this point I just wanted to hear different sounds and it wasn't very productive practice)

Read more of the HSP book

Most likely will have to revise my goals bc I don't think I can make decent progress in all the songs I wanted to in 4 weeks...like, to bring 1 L7 song to performance level after years of not performing anything + without a teacher will probably take longer than it used to. Not sure exactly what that looks like yet other than that it's definitely not gonna be all of Kinderszenen... 😂

friday | 08/09/24

practice wasn't very good today...i kept making silly mistakes i didn't used to make. i'm tired. that's why. i also forgot to do my japanese lesson. i didn't feel like reading either. i don't remember what else i did that day.

saturday | 08/10/24

drained of all energy. didn't practice. didn't do japanese. just chilled with @zzzzzestforlife for the most part and started reading what you are looking for is in the library on her recommendation. i love how philosophical japanese fiction is fjsjdkdks ☺️☺️☺️ (and more generally, i'm surprised that for a culture so new to me, a lot of their ways are just...second nature to my personality...it was very relieving. but i also feel that if i were to live in such a place full time, i would be staying too much in my comfort zone...i also don't know that i would want to ever live in Japan since there are also some important aspects about my current home that i'd miss terribly. all this to say, i'd like to visit Japan again at some point in my lifetime.)

sunday | 08/11/24

went to bed feeling very drained, frustrated, and homesick. so as you can imagine, i didn't get very good sleep. my bare minimum goals for today are:

japanese lesson

read zesty's book recs (there's the library book, the secret adversary [which she rec'd back to me after i rec'd it to her a couple months ago lol], and leviathan wakes) ✅

monday | 08/12/24

finally read the last of the clementi sonatina! got it to a "meh" level to polish in the next few days. super excited! played a few other pieces after that but i think i should focus on level 7 pieces for now before jumping into something barely readable but still playable. i should've brought some level 8 sheet music with me too...but i guess i can read from my laptop (god save my eyes if i do that lol 😵)

might put Kinderszenen back on the (mental music) shelf for now.

i also read more of what you are looking for is in the library and i just love how much there is to ponder about what was said. insightful fiction is my favorite fiction 💗

tuesday | 08/13/24

finished What You Are Looking For Is In The Library! it's such a good book. it's a short story collection but each story is in the same universe and while each story is independent (convienient for readers like me who like to take their time with books but sometimes take so much time that they forget what the story was lol), they're connected in ways that...you know that feeling when you bump into an old acquaintance in a completely foreign place you don't expect to meet anyone you know? that feeling is what i felt as i read chapter after chapter. it makes the vast world feel less lonely.

in the evening i tried to memorize and get the clementi sonatina up to speed. i guess i must be succeeding because my dad said it'd make mice dance lol. also played a bit of traumerei...trying to read more of it but progress is slower since i need to pay closer attention to which notes to hold and when to let go of them.

wednesday | 08/14/24

started reading sweet bean paste today (another japanese book... they're quickly becoming my favorite type of book.) i like it so far. there's potential for a lot of warmth and emotion in talking about food, which is just 🥰

also started "Databases: Modeling and Theory" on edx... 🙈 i'm auditing so i only have 2 weeks (until Aug. 28) to access the material (because the minimum amount of time needed to complete the course is 2 weeks gahhh). so i need to be halfway by Aug. 19. in theory i can do this if i put in 2h of work each day. it's too hot to play piano during the day, so i can do databases then and play piano at night. yes, i can do this. (i need to get my brain used to a faster, "left-brained" pace anyway in prep for school in september. 🙁)

continuing to polish the clementi sonatina and started reading this kuhlau sonatina which is pretty fun difficult. it's really just the left hand that makes it suck. haven't figured out how to move so that the staccatos are sharp despite the finger pedaling. i can do it slow, but not fast while staying quiet, so i must be doing something wrong. sometimes you just gotta sit on it, i guess.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Is this story BS or what? by u/Mickleborough

Is this story BS or what? When Meghan was (figuratively writing) dancing at a cheap suburban party for a moderate fee, at the opening of the ‘Godmothers’ bookshop in Summerland, she somehow bagged a microphone.And like every single time she has a microphone, she has a story that’s just right (like how, at the recent Afro Women and Power event in Cali, Colombia, she claimed that her 3-year-old daughter had ‘found her voice’).This one’s a doozy. As she’s at a bookshop opening, she needs a meaningful bookstore story.Back in September 2019, the devoted mother left her 4-month old firstborn in London and flew to New York to ‘support’ Serena Williams at the US Open final.https://preview.redd.it/dlpn1v4tk8od1.png?width=1640&format=png&auto=webp&s=5e0af14a0394e4f34ce4da0ad7ea8d7dcc63d758It’s not clear why she was uncomfortable, but let’s not make too much out of it - it means as much as the garbage she normally spouts. And how does a bookshop make one feel safe?But the big question is: When did she find time to visit a bookshop on that trip?Nosy Daily Mail has done some digging:She flew commercial from London to New York on Friday 6 September, leaving on either the 08.25 / 8.25 am or 09.00 / 9 am flight. She’d have landed say around 12 noon.Meghan was seen going to Modo Yoga in the West Village on Friday. Guess she didn’t have jet lag.The women’s finals began at 16.00 / 4 pm.It was a 2-day visit.Obviously there are gaps in the above during which she could’ve dipped into a bookshop. But in between yoga, dinner, and taking bites of the Big Apple - she found some weird solace in a bookshop. Sure, Jan.DID YOU KNOW?It seems that Serena Williams was unwilling for Meghan to be present - the last time she watched Serena play, at Wimbledon earlier that year, Williams lost to Simona Halep. Williams‘s fears were justified: Meghan watched her lose again, this tIme to Bianca Andreescu.Anna Wintour was seated behind Meghan. But notwithstanding that - no Met Gala invite.https://ift.tt/kq7YwNr and Harry had told the late Queen that they were too busy with their charitable work to visit her that weekend at Balmoral. So Meghan jaunted to New York whilst Harry stayed home with the 4-month-old firstborn.* She did this whilst her passport allegedly had been taken away from her. It’s one of the 13 foreign holidays she took without a passport: Mirror archived / unarchivedDaily Mail archived / unarchivedTown & Country archived / unarchived - for the bookshop story post link: https://ift.tt/BEoqsyd author: Mickleborough submitted: September 11, 2024 at 10:04PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[sunlightdances]

Stay (Dean Winchester x OFC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character Rating: PG-13 for swearing and mentions of sex. Summary: Dean and Avery have a two-night stand, and after that weekend, they go their separate ways. They never expected to see each other again, but the universe has other plans. A/N: Guys, where do I even begin? It’s been ages. I miss you. I see your messages, your likes, your reblogs. Thank you. Here’s this. I wrote a lot of it on my phone, so bear with me if there are typos.

It just goes like this, doesn't it?

One night where the both of them could let go of expectations, of being who the universe was making them be. One night.

But just like they knew they didn't have a choice but to be who the universe wanted them to be, they should have known the universe would pull the absolute worst April Fool's Day prank of all time.

They gape at each other, minds racing as images of tangled sheets, open mouths, and moonlit smiles come flooding back.

The task at hand doesn't let them linger too long.

She's firing with military precision, and he's right there with her, sweat dripping down his jaw as he reloads round after round, wondering if the universe put them both here to die together.

But then Sam shows up, like he always does. He saves them both, and the three of them save the day.

It takes longer for Dean to work up the courage to look her in her eyes. He feels-- he feels ashamed somehow, that he let her go that rainy Sunday morning.

There was never an argument or anything. They both just knew it was time. She had said she had to catch a flight and get back to work, and he lied and told her he had to do the same thing.

They had two nights of connection, of passion, but also of affection. He told her things he never told anyone. They spent a Saturday night fully clothed, eating take out straight from the containers in a hotel's king-sized bed. He felt comfortable with her like he hadn't felt with anyone in years.

And yeah, it sucked when she left. He sort of hoped there'd be a knock on the door saying she missed her flight, but he wasn't sad. They both knew what they were signing up for when they met at the bar that Friday night, eyes only for each other.

Still, he thinks he's remembered her kiss every day since.

He still thinks no one has ever touched him like she did.

So, yeah, he's a little angry and flustered when he sees her here, because she said she worked in marketing or some bullshit, and while he didn't expect her to be totally truthful with a stranger, this is a little too coincidental to be believed.

She bats his hands away when he offers to help her bandage a big scrape on her leg, and he tries not to make a face at the rejection. He's very aware of Sam watching him closely, but he has no idea what to say.

There's no point in lying about knowing her. He told Sam that he had spent a weekend with a woman the day he came home from his impromptu trip, but that it was nothing special, nothing but some no strings attached fun.

Turns out Dean might be the one who had a few strings.

.

Her face feels like it's on fire. Her game plan so far is just to refuse to speak to him, but that feels a bit stupid given the situation they just found themselves in.

Jesus Christ, but he couldn't have said he was Dean Winchester when they met? To be fair - she didn't give a lot of details about herself either. They didn't even really talk about work except when she said there was no way she could stretch her trip into one more day. She had to work.

(She lied about work just like he did, but that's neither here nor there)

She just never thought she'd still be thinking about him months later, much less seeing him in person. In the middle of a hunt.

She did have a real job. She wasn't lying about that. Her work for the FBI is very, very, VERY top secret. Fringe Division has been practically dead for years, but ever since the almost-apocalypse (she supposes she has Dean to thank for that, too), their work is more important than ever.

She was just supposed to be doing field work. Recon. She was never supposed to get involved, but here she is, trying to put a bandage on herself in the middle of the woods.

She can’t stop herself from watching his hands, remembering when they traced every inch of her skin and made her gasp and writhe and the way in the next breath they’d find a ticklish spot and make her laugh.

It’s just all so unbelievable.

Sam is the one to break the ice, which feels inevitable. “So. Anyone want to explain this?” He gestures between her and Dean.

Dean’s jaw clenches. For a moment she feels frustrated because why is he angry? They parted mutually. They both told lies and half truths and let themselves escape in high thread count sheets and each other.

She thrusts out her hand. The one not currently covered in blood. “Avery Harper.”

“Avery.” Sam repeats.

“Technically it’s Special Agent Avery Harper, but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Dean chokes out a laugh, but it’s a little bitter. Avery’s smile doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” she suggests. “Food?”

She turns and heads toward her car before anyone says anything else. She hears a whispered argument, an exasperated sigh, and then finally the sound of footsteps on the crushed gravel. A hand grabs her elbow a moment later, then releases her like she’s on fire.

“We look like shit.” Dean’s voice is gruff. “Pizza at our place instead.”

The drive to their place is pleasant, at least. She struggles to keep up with Dean’s car, but she suspects he’s doing it on purpose so she lets him. He’s never truly out of her sight. She uses the time to try to work her way out of this, but decides there’s no point.

The only thing she needs to do is make them understand she’s not trying to take over their turf and that she has no interest in arresting them, and hope that they hear her out.

She follows along a long dirt driveway. The building looks rundown from the outside, but she trusts them. Trusts Dean.

Inside, she’s not ashamed of the way her mouth falls open as she takes in the gleaming tiles and smooth wood. The place is incredible.

“The inner sanctum?”

“Something like that.” Dean mutters, brushing past her. They both pause at the contact.

“I’m going to…. order pizza”. Sam says, quickly making himself scarce.

She and Dean stand there in the fading sunlight streaming in through a nearby window, and the light catches on his eyes. He’s hurt. She can see that, and she does feel guilty. Even though they were both doing the same thing, she’s realizing now that he probably would have loved to know he was completely understood.

That night, even though she didn’t know who he was, she felt a connection that was deeper than attraction. Now she knows why.

“I didn’t know who you were.” She says, hands tightening at her sides.

“How is that possible?”

“Not every agent is out to get you.”

He smirks. “Most of my interactions with the feds say the opposite.”

She exhales.

He rubs a hand over his face. The sound of his stubble scratching against weathered palms takes her back to a warm bed, a feeling of being so cocooned with someone else she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

“Is Avery even your real name?” He asks, voice rough.

“Yes.”

A beat. “Marketing?”

She can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t know what to say!”

“You could have bragged about having a badass job.”

She’s surprised, but tries not to show it. “So could you.”

He shrugs. “Wanted to… shed it.”

“Me too.” She admits softly.

This time when he meets her eyes, his are vulnerable, a dark green that leaves goosebumps on her arms. “I—“ he stops himself. She wishes he wouldn’t. He changes tactics. “Let me take a look at that arm.”

“It’s alright-“

“Ave. Let me.”

A shortened version of her name hits her right in the gut. It’s familiar, intimate in a way she hadn’t been expecting. “Okay.” She relents.

.

He can’t take his eyes off her.

He was angry for a minute, he felt off guard, off kilter, but now that she’s in front of him he can’t bring himself to hold a grudge. He’s just happy to see her.

The FBI.

What a fucking day.

She doesn’t tell him much about why she was hunting, how she knew about the fight he and Sam were in on, how she showed up right when they did and where any of her intel came from.

They’ve always known that someone somewhere in the feds had an inside track, and it always bothered him. But because it’s her, he can’t find it in himself to be angry.

He thinks of the way she didn’t hesitate, just set up shoulder to shoulder with him and aimed her weapon like she’d be damned if anyone or anything tried to get close to the Winchesters.

He’s pretty amazed by her, he’s got to admit. She’s everything he’s ever wanted wrapped up in the most beautiful package, and that’s what makes him pause. Because he’s never allowed to have good things for long.

In his bathroom he inspects her wounds, uses the excuse to crowd her a little bit, inhales the familiar scent of citrus and vanilla that follows her like a cloud.

If she notices she doesn’t say anything and he’s grateful.

Her hand fits just so in his.

“Thank you.” She says eventually.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Dean—“

He looks up, sees her eyes uncertain, a little wild.

She kisses him before he can take his next breath. It sends heat sizzling up his spine, electricity crackling in the space between them.

It’s exactly how he remembers it, and somehow more. More because they’re truly themselves now, no secrets between them.

His hands are in her hair. Hers are tight on his hips, digging in, a desperation in her touch that he's relieved to feel, proof that he isn't the only one feeling this way.

When the need for air is too much, they wrench apart, gasping. Her mouth goes to his neck, and his lips find her forehead, and he can't do this again. He can't pretend.

"Wait. Avery, wait."

Her eyes are unfocused when she looks at him. "Sorry--"

He shakes his head. "Don't be. I-- god, I wanted that. I just... it's too much. I can't."

"I've thought about this for months." She admits, and his eyes slide shut.

"Don't tell me that."

"It's the truth." When he opens his eyes again, her smile is sad, but there's a bit of hope there too, and it makes his heart pick up speed. "I didn't want to go, that morning. I wanted to give you my number, I wanted to see you again."

"I did too. I wanted you to come back."

"It feels cursed, Dean." She says quietly. "This-- this is all too much of a coincidence."

He nods. "I know. But-- is that so bad?" He leans close, lips at her temple. Can't stop touching her. "Can't we just give ourselves something to be happy about?"

"We do have a lot to fill each other in about." She agrees, words sounding more like a moan in the quiet room.

"Stay." His voice is hoarse. "Stay with me. We'll figure it all out after."

He's tired of denying himself things he wants, things that make him happy. And if all the decisions he's made over the last few months, every thought and every choice have lead him right back here to her, then who is he to question it?

She stays.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @wikiangela thank you<333 I missed my crossover fic so I wrote a little today. he is Jake and Buck's dynamic I can't wait to explore more cause I already love it way to much

“Jake, I don’t know about it,” but before Buck can continue to think of the reason why he can’t come to San-Diego, Jake already speaks.

“Listen here, Buckley. We have tried to get together for the last four years after I was in LA for three days to congratulate you on ending your probation year. I literally now live in the city in 3 hours drive from LA. And you died six months ago before it happened,” Jake is silent for a second, but Buck hears how he takes deep breath to take himself back together. Hearing how his death affected even his friends out of LA make him bite his lip so as not to cry. Painful reminder he should keep trying harder on therapy, should try to get better to help his family heal too. “So I’m not asking. You are bringing your pretty ass to San-Diego. I might even help to heal your heart after the recent break up with what is her name?” 

“Natalia. And there’s nothing to heal,” Buck for a second considers if he should tell Jake the whole truth about the break up or not, but really he needs a friend and there is no one better to talk about Eddie because Jake is Buck’s only friend. Not Eddie’s found family too. “I broke up with her because I understood I’m in love with…” Buck takes a deep breath getting ready to say it for the first time to someone who is not Dr. Copeland, but Jake does it first.

“Eddie.” 

The way the name of his best friend so easily slips from Jake’s mouth leaves Buck speechless with just one question which he almost scream.

“H-HOW?!”

“You talk about the guy all the time. You raise his, no, not his, his and yours  son together. You talk about him like he put the sun, moon and stars in the sky. It was so easy,”Buck hears how Jake rolls his beautiful green eyes and he hopes the man feels how he shows him finger. “Do not show me finger, sweetheart. You know I’m right. I’m more shocked no one called you on this definitely not little crush on your hot bestie before me. And they see you two together.” 

“Like no one calls you on your homoerotic comments about Rooster? Or how now do you want dick measure with the man not in figurative but real meaning?” Buck smirks when he hears how Jake tries to say something to deny it, but fails.

“How?”

Grinning, Buck takes a deep breath and perfectly repeating Jack's intonation begins to quote.

“Oh, Buck, Rooster is so cocky I hate his guts. Oh, Buck, this man irritates me so much I want to send him on fire. Buck, I saved this asshole today and we shook hands and I think we are going to be friends soon. Sweetheart, you will not believe who asked me about beer in Hard Deck without the team. Fuck, Buck Rooster abs somehow better than mine and it’s… irritates me so much,” Buck laughs remembering how the last part was said more like I-want-to-fuck-him and not this-guy-is-hotter-than-me-and-I'm-jealous. Buck knows the difference too well. He was friends with it for a moment. “I always feel like you would jump his bones the next time you see the man.”

“Said you”

“Touche.”

tagging @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @eddiescowboy @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @transboybuckley @underwater-ninja-13 @puppyboybuckley @paranoidbean @anakinfallen @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @gaydiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @jeeyuns @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @caroandcats @cowboybuckleys @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @buddierights @mandzuking17 @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus and anyone who wants

[steamberrystudio]

13/08/2023 Devlog

Hallo! It is time for the bi-weekly Tumblr update once again

Summary:

Sprite art finished and imported (all sprites are now in the game)

All CG art completed

50% of CGs coded

The Ramble:

So here is the quick ramble for Gilded Shadows.

I finished all the remaining sprite art and got that imported into the game. 

And I finished all the CG art. I have not finished coding the CGs as some of them take a bit longer due to Morgan. So I have a few more of those left to do.

I really did not expect to be finished with the CGs by this point but somehow managed to finish them by the end of Friday without killing my hand.

I've definitely been...uh...feeling it the past couple of days though. Ha ha. 

Fortunately the art is done now so my hand will have plenty of time to rest through beta testing! 

Upcoming Weeks:

Beta testing! 

I have a few more things to wrap up, including coding the rest of the CGs and then Yuu's route will move into the beta testing stage which will last a few weeks; but I'm not sure how long.

So yeah. We're nearly to the final release for Gilded Shadows. 

Even after release, I still have some KS related loose ends to tie up but the game is kind of the main thing to complete and we are nearly there.

=o

Anyway, that's all for now on Gilded Shadows. By next update we should be mid-beta testing and I'll probably be working on some of the KS loose ends while waiting for feedback.

When Stars Collide:

For those following updates on this project:

I have received one new background since last time and a new sketch.

I have also done a fair bit of writing but since this is just my side project I've actually been tracking my word count progress a little less meticulously than usual. I don't know how many words it was at my last update so I don't know how much progress I've made since then. LoL!

I have one more short scene for Yren chapter 5 left but I also worked on the new chapter 3, which I had planned out but not started last time. So it looks like I wrote right at 10,000 words based on how long the scenes I know I wrote are. 💪

I also wrote Kav's first actual scene and appearance (well, it's part of the new chapter 3, not a separate scene.)

I've done a few other small things - worked on potentially re-designing the flowchart screens, changed up some character lore for a few characters. Changed a few character name spellings too (there are reasons for this; it wasn't just a whim. LoL)

And a few other minor things.

I also improved my WSC word count spreadsheet.

Keeping a detailed spreadsheet of my progress - including a specific goal system and progress tracker really helps keep me focused so that my forward momentum stays at a steady pace.

I'm not a naturally organised person - in fact, my natural state as a writer is quite chaotic and disorganised. But I have learned during Changeling that chaos does not serve me well in the development process and that I do better if I make myself use organisational tools to stay on track.

I haven't been meticulous with writing spreadsheets for WSC since it has been my side project until now. But as GS wraps up, it will become more of my focus so I want to be sure I have the tools in place to stay focused.

Hence...better spreadsheets. 💪💪

Side note. But did you lens flares are actually required when something is set in space? That is how you know it's sci-fi.

I don't make the rules.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Fuck It Friday 👀

Yall I am off for the next three weeks and I got up early with my girlfriend and I just whipped nearly 6k words for the omegaverse office romance fic 🥹 Hopefully I’ll be able to continue at this rate and finish this fic before I have school again 🤞🏻

I was tagged by the ever lovely @wikiangela @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples and @daffi-990 💋

(Story and tags under cut because this one is long and heavy 🫢)

Unexpectedly, his father grabs his right wrist hard and almost forcefully, making Buck’s body freeze on the spot and he’s pulled back into a feeling that he hasn’t wanted to feel since he was 13 and reached puberty.

The feeling of apparently being the biggest disappointment of his parents life because he turned out to be an omega. He was always small but his parents were hoping and praying that it would somehow magically change over night. But then he experienced his first heat and it was painful, embarrassing and uncomfortable. Yet not more uncomfortable than his parents who from that moment on kept reminding him that he was worth nothing to this family, that he would never be able to carry on the Buckley legacy because when he would marry, he would take another man’s name instead of giving it. How he wasn’t normal for being an omega, how he would always stand out in a crowd and that life would be made indefinitely harder for him - just because of the way that he was born.

Well, he didn’t fucking ask for it.

Hot tears threaten to fall as his father just stares at him, not a soul in sight but he keeps his back straightened, not allowing his true feelings to show but once again, his omega is trying to get out. “You’re not married. How surprising. Who would even want you? You’re damaged goods” His father gestures towards his stomach and Buck can feel his lip quivering, biting down on it so hard that a faint metallic taste starts to spread in his mouth.

“I can’t believe that you would do this to yourself. Why would you make yourself stand out even more? If you’re going to be a whore, then at least protect yourself” His dad continues his rant, fingers boring into the side of Buck’s wrist. He wants to retract it, to pull it closer to himself and to protect himself, to protect the baby but he can’t. He can’t do anything else than just take it.

“Do you even know who the father is, Evan? Do you?” His father yanks at his wrist, making Buck whimper in both pain and surprise, unable to keep the tears at bay, he lets them fall as he stares at the ground. “Answer me. Right. Now” His father raises his voice and Buck can feel his body shake, threatening to send him into a panic attack and so he finally nods.

“Y-...yes” is the first word out of his mouth in what feels like an eternity. The pressure from his fathers grip seems to loosen but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before he grips onto it so tightly that he can feel the blood flow slowly being cut off, whitening his entire hand.

“Does he know that you’re pregnant? Did you tell him? Or are you just going to keep that to yourself like you did with us? Does he even love the baby? Did you ask if he wanted this baby without being married?” There’s so many questions out of his dads mouth that he barely has time to register them all in his brain. “Actually, I’m surprised that someone was able to spend enough time with you to get you into this mess. You’re such a disappointment to this family, Evan. Ungrateful and unlovable”

And then it finally sets in. Buck is able to rip his hand from his fathers grip, almost losing his balance as he does so but manages to steady himself. With a breaking but somehow firm voice, he says “He doesn’t know. And that’s because of you. Because I was so afraid of this, of disappointing you again but you know what?”. He stops to take a deep breath in, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“This baby is so loved and cared for. I love him and his other father loves him just as much, if not more than me. And you fucking broke me. I have hated myself for years because of you! I haven’t told the baby’s father that it’s his baby. I’ve lied to him because of you! Because I know what you would think of me, I know-... I know that you hate me but someone does love me. And someone loves this baby in the ways that you should have loved me!”

Tagging!! @disasterbuckdiaz @watchyourbuck @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @cal-daisies-and-briars @butraura @spotsandsocks @athenagranted @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @devirnis @captain-hen @lover-of-mine @fionaswhvre @jesuisici33 @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings 🦋💗