#i can just hear ash running to my dms

[sleepysheepytea]

oh no im obsessed with them.

why am i like this omg

my voice is pretty much nonexistent at this point and its ouchie

but i have ocs to keep me happi

they are literally all i want to draw

also they are the same age kuro’s just smol cuz he’s a cat 

just to clear that up lol i dont want ppl freaking out sdjfhjkg

ALSO like usual i do not have a name for the puppy gorl so pls throw some at me if you would like wheeee :3

[the-lady-writes-what]

A very long time ago, I received a lovely DM from @marziemoo when they asked about what are some recommendations for wlw/sapphic books about or written by authors of color. I apologize that it has taken me so long.

Allow me first to give some caveats:

I am very, very, very white. I am NOT a person of color. Please take my opinion with a grain of salt.

I take FOREVER to read books so, the ones I have read is small list but I have included ones that I researched and ones that have been on my To Read List for a while.

I tend to read mostly fantasy, so this list will comprise mostly of fantasy because that is what I read. I'll try to diversify with other genres. Everything except "The Jasmine Throne" I have not yet read.

Tasha Suri is a South Asian author whose work "The Jasmine Throne" depicts the story of an imprisoned princess and a priestess who hides from her past. It's passionate and powerful.

Warning: this book does depict or implicate harsher subjects and themes such as sexism, human sacrifice, and contains violence.

Kalynn Bayron, a black author. "Cinderella is Dead" tells the story of Sophia, who is forced with other girls to be forced into marriage two hundred years after Cinderella and her tale died. Sophia is joined with Constance, the last descendent of Cinderella and her step-sisters, to bring down the king. I haven't read this one yet, but it sits on my giant pile of To Read stack

This book by Leah Johnson tells the story of Liz Lighty, a midwest black girl. She's hoping to find financial aid so she can attend the college of her dreams. In order to do that, she has to become prom queen. Along comes Mack, the new girl, who is also vying for the prom queen crown. Sounds like rivals-to-lovers to me? I don't really read contemporary fiction, but the story premise is cute.

In Chinelo Okparanta's book, Ijeoma grows up as her nation gains independence and by the time she's 11, civil war breaks out. Ijeoma is sent away to safety where she comes across another displaced child. Friendship blooms and becomes a star-crossed romance. Again, I don't read a lot of contemporary fiction, but I might had this one to my reading list myself.

With the world's survival at stake, two teenagers are selected to journey to the Fairy Queen to fix it. Kaede and Taisin are drawn together during the mission. As members of their party succumb to unearthly attacks and fairy tricks, the two come to rely on each other and even begin to fall in love. This is a prequel to Malinda Lo's series, Ash.

Originally published in 1995, LarissaLai weaves a story in and out of medieval China to contemporary Vancouver. The book follows a thousand year old fox spirit, a 9th century Taoist poet and nun, and a young Asian-American named Artemis.

Makeda Hicks just lost her job and girlfriend in one fell swoop. She doesn't want to hear stories from her grandmother about her whirlwind affairs with royals and agents. So when Beznaria Chetchevaliere crashes into her life, Makeda can't resist. Only one bed and fake marriage hijinks insues!

Lei, in Natasha Ngan's book, Girls of Paper and Fire, lives with her father years after her mother is taken by the royal guards and disappeared. Now, they've come for Lei, whose rumored beauty has intrigued the king. Lei enters the opulent yet oppressive palace to train with eight other young women to please the king. A forbidden romance begins with Lei and she begins to question how far she would go for revenge.

In Tehlor Kay Mejia's premiere novel, 'We Set the Dark on Fire,' writes a compelling story that mirrors real world issues of immigration and equality. Daniela Vargas is the top student at Medio School for Girls. As a top student, upon graduation her paths are limited, run a husband's household or raise his children. Will Daniela chose the life of privilege her parents fought for or will she join the resistance to bring true freedom to Medio, and perhaps forbidden love?

Seventeen year old Lil and her twin sister, Kizzy are captured and taken away from their traveler community. Forced to work in the kitchens, Lil is drawn to another slave, Mira. Lil and the others discover and fight for a fate of their own making. (Through some research, I discovered that the author, Kiran Millwood Hargrave, is of Indian descent through her mother and lives in Oxford.)

Yetu remembers everything. She remembers the people who came before her, the pregnant African women thrown overboard by their enslavers. In order to escape this burden and the memories, Yetu travels to the surface to discover her past and a future for her people.

Manuela Azul lives a confined life in a small Florida apartment hiding from both her father's crime family in Argentina and ICE. On the run, she discovers a world within our own and one which Manuela discovers something about herself that could rock her world.

This Hugo award-winning novel by S.L. Huang, is a retelling of the Western fairy tale classic, Little Red Riding Hood. Only this time, Red Riding Hood is done with wolves and forests. Combing fairy tale nostalgia and Chinese folklore, the main characters, Rosa, Red Riding Hood, and Hou Yi the Archer join forces and set forth on a quest to stop the deadly sunbirds from destroying everything they hold dear.

[happyk44]

[ID:

1: Tweet from Tage Erlinger @/TageErlinger: Haha, what a wicked and ironic comment bro. Now try saying something true and beautiful.

2: Tweet from Coffee Lovers and Fans @/tonyhawktruther: NASA just revealed a heaven-like planet where you can drink a beer at the lake. And they're calling it Earth.

3: Tweet from Theo Fanning @/TheoFanning: After 50 years, Guitar Center finally makes the correct decision to stop using a guitar as a 'G' in their logo. Why it took that long is still anyone's guess.

A before and after image of the Guitar Center logo. The before image shows red text on a white background that reads "Guitar Center". The 'G' is a guitar, with the neck of the guitar overlapping the 'u' and 'i'. The after image shows white text on a red background that reads "Guitar Center". Before the word "Guitar" is a white outline of a guitar.

Quote tweet from frog "Kid Omelas" kosaric @/yurirando responding to the previous tweet: when they burned the library of Alexandria the crowd cheered in horrible joy. They understood that there was something older than wisdom, and it was fire, and something truer than words, and it was ashes

4: Tweet from miss en abyme @/saturnalreturn: Standing in front of the sun and doing shadow puppet shows on the moon

5: Tweet from Linux @/linux: When I kill God I will find the spigot from which he meters out grace and smash it permanently open.

6: Tweet from tania [russion nesting doll emoji] @/boywaif: I had a french professor who once said if you did something like goinng to the supermarket and experienced it fully without the goggles of habit and categories you would go grazy with pure sense and joy. I think about it all the time. In a way this is all for him.

7: Tweet from sand ghost @/moutheaters: Me: Is the natural state of the soul quiet or chaos

Taco Bell cashier: Look buddy, it's transient, shifting like water

8: Tweet from lil stinker @/superlameballs: guys will make something called "the ultimate treat" and it's just a meatball sub [laughing with joy emoji] it's just a meatball sub made on toasted garlic bread with cheese, homemade sauce, and all the love in their heart - their heart so filled to bursting will love you can taste it in the sandwich

9: Tweet from kat, your DM @/kazzbotz: Whenever you're obsessed with stopping a prophecy you gotta ask yourself: am I enacting the prophecy's will? Is my obsession the mechanism by which the prophecy comes to pass?

10: Tweet from Matthew @/CrowsFault: People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider's webs. It's not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.

11: Tweet from fembot @/__femb0t: It's always "why did you not sleep" or "how many coffys did you have" and never "was the night dark and endless and full of promise"

12: Tweet from John @/logicalpathos: This dog looks like my dog from my teenage years, Daisy. God I miss Daisy.

Reply tweet from aro @/Arolexion: I miss daisy too [prayer hands emoji]

Reply tweet from dais @/daisdNDconfused: It's okay... I was reincarnated into a real girl

Reply tweet from John @/logicalpathos: Do you remember how we used to run

13: Tweet from jims @/bubberdunkus: i'd tickle a fish if the wet chime of its laughter could heal us

14: Tweet from lilies abounded @/petfurniture: i hope death is like being carried to your bedroom when you were a child and fell asleep on the couch during a family party. i hope you can hear the laughter form the next room

15: Tweet from Linux @/linux: We cracked open the skulls of our masters and found nothing but flesh and blood

16: Tweet from azhar @/emokendallroy: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Reply tweet from creature from the black leagoon [drink with a straw emoji] @/bigfatmoosepssy: my class turtle from 6th Grade :)

Reply tweet from erin m. brady @/erinmartina: that's a turtle

Reply tweet from creature from the black leagoon [drink with a straw emoji] @/bigfatmoosepssy: When God sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

17: Tweet from sio @/bestinsio: subway rat made eye contact with me and said "join us. when the train comes we slide under the tracks and feel it rumble over us like a warm thunderstorm. we live forever and we love to live" I said no thank you I am too large he turned away from me I cried

18: Tweet from NOT A WOLF @/SICKOFWOLVES: [all caps] I hope this e-mail does not find you

I hope your chair has grown over with moss

I hope a pleasant but unobserved beam of light hits your desk perfectly through the collapsed ceiling

I hope the silence is deafening [end all caps]

/end ID]

an incomplete collection of tweets i consider to be short poems

[hearsayhorizons]

Thinktober 2024 2: Tree

There are no guarantees where the House’s doors are concerned, but dryads hold many of the keys. Perhaps they make the safest stewards because they are barred from entry (and therefore addiction or obsession) by their very natures: they will survive within the House, but a tree whose dryad leaves it behind does not survive. And then, after she leaves or is kicked from the house, welp.

The player characters are all looking for the House, for whatever their own purposes might be. That’s a basic premise of the campaign: they know I want to give them a base. They know they need to work for it.

The doors aren’t purposefully difficult to find, but it’s a big multiverse out there—and there are other creatures at play; this includes a dark lord who fears that the few souled individuals left in Barovia may use the doors as escapes. Who might be employing people to create “threshounds” (a modified displacer beast template) solely meant to destroy these doors, wherever they might be.

Including by tearing a dryad and her tree to pieces. True Peace (following a convention I have mentioned previously for fae or dryads) cries out for help; the elf ranger, gnome bard, and fairy rogue are close enough (or connected to fae enough) to hear or feel the pain. They either go to help or get attacked by threshounds themselves, depending on their reaction time. The threshounds have already trashed the tree; branches that hung heavy with fruit and promise are now crashed and wrecked. The sickly-sweet smell of burst fruit hangs heavily in the air.

These early versions of threshounds are... psionic impressions. Which means they are difficult to damage—maybe blurry, or flickery?--but also that they can’t report back to Strahd or their creator about any foes or locations. The original threshounds are one-use... items, that don’t survive a teleport or trip between dimensions. Telephobic?

One thing I’m worried about is giving my level 4 D&D 5.0/5 characters an enemy they have trouble beating. But I like the idea of the dryad’s dimension door or the core of the tree being a trap, of the elf’s misty step functioning as damage to the thing if done nearby. I can always intervene or reward some quick thinking; the elf ranger’s player is our usual DM and he is wicked fast on his feet.

The players assist True Peace. She is perhaps dying, or severely weakened. She never had a key to the House, but an ally might—regardless, she asks a favor of them in exchange for a small boon. (that might be the ability to detect doors better via having some of the fruit?). Go to her friend who is a full day’s travel away. Give them some pollen to deliver—there's a LDR between dryads and the characters are assisting in dryad survival. Gonna have to work to make that not creepy because I have issues with improv.

Stuff may happen on the march; probably not more threshounds, but maybe natural creatures stirred up, blink dogs gone berserk, actual displacer beasts? Dunno, gotta see what happens.

The ally is another dryad, a weeping willow who is as much a water nymph as a treeple. She is withered and not doing well; the waters of her river run black with ash and have for some time. Ordinarily her river would be a gate to a town, but not like this. I don’t want just fetch quests and travel so that might be tweaked. She knows for a fact that an ancient dryad named Haven who lives in harmony with the town that lies upriver has a key to the House.

Players get to the town, and it is just an ash pile. Like that scene in Mulan as they crest the hill. Nothing moves, nothing breathes—until, as they investigate, ash zombies begin to claw their way free of the earth. Horses, men, dogs, things that look like centaurs but are really just the skeletons of men adhered to their horses.

The dryad goes by Ruination now. Her betrayal by the townsfolk (probably over the door to the House) led to a war that decimated everything. There is a door to the House at the center of her grove even now, but it’s a boss fight to get there.

There is an alternative to murdering her, and there’s probably more methods I have not thought of, but—the House is a place of rest and healing. Ordinarily you HAVE to leave after three days, but those employed by the House are exempt for the span of their stay. Going through the door kills her tree, of course, but Rue’s tree had pretty much already died and that might have been a huge amount of her pain. That might be an interesting way to lay out stuff for the characters, having them run into Rue during their first three days.

I feel like there’s some poetry if the players discover that, in the fires of the war between dryad and town, some of the seeds have opened. Hmm.

[zero-insignificance]

DND Recap: Memories

Cast includes: Rose the DM, Bob (yours truly), Truk, Patrick, Lanwel, and Zara

Rewind to before we pick up the Fires of Hell

The fires are hot. Hotter than any other fire we’ve touched. As  we approach the door it gets hotter and brighter and when we are a foot away the fire snakes. Ancient symbols written in flame appear on the door.

Truk: You’re calling nonsense when you are trying to keep someone who has proven they are not faithful Emira: He does love me! Truk: He doesn’t love you. Patrick: guys don’t SHE IS GOING TO KILL US

Zara: You deserve better.

Emira casts a spell called Abi-Dalzim’s Horrid Wilting. Zara fails the save. Truk seals off his pores. Lanwel sent Iana, her daughter to help us

Roll initiative.

A darkness falls over the party. We can’t hear each other. And when it lifts we are all alone.

Truk wakes in Russia. But not Russia of today. Before the attack of Betty White.

He looks around and is confused and looks for a trace of his comrades and he can’t find anyone. He looks for others. And he sees his mother and father. And he freezes. And they notice him. “Truk is that you?” Truk says nothing. And they walk over. His mother hugs him and he hugs her back. Truk’s player: This is not going to go well. Rose: No, it’s not. Truk: *crying* Samantha: Do not cry. It is okay, my son. Truk: Where am I? Samantha: You’re home Truk: No *pushes her away* no no- Samantha: If you stay here we can be happy. Truk: *unsheaths Dazbolg*

Brick: You dare draw a sword against your own mother? Truk: Dad? BricK Hey. Whats up? Truk: *tearing up* You’re dead. No Wisdom save. DC18. Rolls a 31. Truk: You’re not real. *swings the sword at Brick* Rose: You slice through brick and the illusion starts to melt around you. Truk’s player: Truk falls to his knees and looks at the blade

Cut to Iana

Iana’s story starts with darkness. In a world made of shades of gray that is unknowable. Emere, Iana and Ecastrial. Ecastrial is the favorite. But Iana didn’t hate him. She felt nothing for everything. From that sparked love. She wanted to know and to love. Emere was cold and ruthless. Only ever conjured for war and chaos and conquest. In this Iana hurt watching her brother be beaten and bruised and bloodied. And she couldn’t do anything about it. But she'd heal him every time. The one day she is brought out for what was meant to be peace she is thrust into battle. "I JUST WANTED TO HELP." She fires an arrow into the dark and it finds purchase on nothing. Iana hurts. And she falls. The day she is able to take off her blindfold and bask in the light of the sun it is night, and she ends. For once and for all she ends. Not being able to help as she was meant to be. Iana has fallen.

Cut to Zara.

Zara awakens in ash and embers. A familiar sight to her. But this time it is different. This time she was given something to kill. “We won this is what we wanted perfect absolution” and she realizes that this isn’t real. This is a dream that she has had before. She stabs herself. It can’t be real. She can feel the pain. And she runs. Something that she’s done before. Not stopping until something changes. Through forests and ashes and embers. To a wall. “Zara?”

Cut to Patrick.

Patrick wakes up to Bartholemew. A short stubby dwarf. And Victor the halfling bard. The laziest thing you can think of. He appears in a tavern. It’s one he’s entered many times but doesn’t remember. The Paladin is there. About a year before he dies. His old party is there. They’re laughing except for Patrick. THey’re celebrating but we don’t know what. This feels wrong. Patrick doesn’t know these people anymore and he can’t find his marbles in this dream. “They aren’t here anymore.” Wisdom save. 16. Failed. HE struggles with the familiarity and it’s locked away and everything seems fine, warm and fuzzy. And he leans into it. Patrick has fallen.

Cut to Bob Bob wakes up in his house in Finkelberg. There’s Mountain Dew Paraphernalia is on the wall. That isn’t right, he’s into Gatorade now. He checks to see if the carving of the owlbear Alfie made him is still on his bedside table. It’s still there and he looks relieved. He heads downstairs. Bob sees his father and mother. Discord and Betty White. They’re making breakfast.

Bob: What are you doing here? Discord: Making breakfast. Bob: Why? I don't understand- Betty White: Because that’s what you do in the morning. Bob: What about Fluttershy? Discord: Who? Bob: She’s your friend! Discord: You’re crazy. Bob: *scoffs* That checks out, but this is sus. My father would never make me breakfast-

Daddy issues saves the day again~ 

The illusion lifts and he wakes in darkness with a hulking black figure with white eyes. He assumes it’s weak to radiant and sends off a sickening radiance. 27 radiant damage. The black mass screams and then the illusions dissipate.

Everyone else’s voices echoes from different directions. Patrick’s laughter. Zara’s interaction with her nephew. “I shouldn't be hear again this isn’t right-” “What are you talking about” And Iana’s cries. “I just want to help-” “So, two of you still stand?”

Bob and Truk run to each other. Truk tries to attack. Nothing happens. He is angry and in a blind rage.

Bob is told to roll wisdom save. 26. Succeeds.

Bob casts Locate creature, sees a faint outline and taps on Truk’s shoulder. Holds on and points.

Truk bites Emira 11. Bob does Rauthim's Psychic Lance .13 psychic damage cuz she succeeded on the save. 2 angelic steel feathers are fired. 24 damage.

Back to the dream sequence. Iana would heal Emere. She fires another arrow, and it hits the back of her arm. Iana: *stuck in the darkness* I JUST WANTED TO HELP. And she shines like a star through that darkness burning through the dark. “I will not end here. I will help.”

Zara is attending her niece’s birthday. One of the last birthdays she ever attended with her family. A small dragonborn looks at her and she tears up “I am so so sorry-” “why are you apologizing?” “I don’t know- I know this isn’t real. But there’s something I need to know” and the child points to a hallway and she runs down it seeing memories, trying to remember something she hasn't been able to remember. And she makes it. A younger Zara is tinkering around with a crystal. It’s strange. Seeing herself mess around with someone she can’t remember. “We’ve done it, finally!” “Yeah. We’ve done it” And a portal opens, and something goes wrong. And Zara approaches. It opens and explodes. A glow envelopes her and she gets back up. A 19 succeeds. Zara awakens.

Patrick has lost track of time and that nagging feeling is still there. Wisdom save. 21. He thinks to himself as he follows his old party to an inn and the paladin looks back at Patrick and “Ender Danak Zordak are you coming?” That isn’t my name-" "Ender are you coming?” He realizes that the paladin is dead, and this isn’t right. And his memories of his current party flash through his mind “That’s my party now. That’s what’s real. I can’t go with you.” “What do you mean? I’m right here” And the Paladin draws his sword “It’s not safe. You have to come with us. This is real-” “No you’re not.” and as he strikes him the illusion drops. 

Emira: So. You all broke out…

We are separated from group a and group b.

Group A is Bob and Truk Group B is Iana, Zara and Patrick

Iana heals Zara and does detect evil and good. There are two Emiras and one health pool.

Back in Hell, Bragar and Lanwel succeed on their saves. Ecastrial is there as back up. Hell stays warm once more for now.

Bubbling vitriol. 54 damage to Bob who misty steps out of there Truk tries to dig his claws into the sides of her ribs 37 damage. She is grappled

Bob does a witchbolt. “This might be a bad idea cuz if I get a nat 20 that’s 120 lightning damage maximum on a crit.” “Do it.” “Okay” *rolls* “what I said could happen just happened. Does a 31 hit? For both of you” ‘Yes” “Yes but barely” 75 lightening damage..

Bob heals Truk a bit as a sorry.

The illusion falters and team b can see the bloody sides and the Bite on her arm. “GET YO FucKIN dOG BiTCh-” “it don’t bite” “YEs iT dO-”

Zara does dragon's breath. Whatever the fuck Iana does gives anybody near Emira advantage on their next attack. 44 damage with Bob shooting her with his pistols We’ve done a lot of damage. Over half her health

Truk crushes her legs and pulls them out from under her and goes to bite the throat.

Patrick and Truk are fucking her up. Bob has done 156 damage so far.

119 damage and a quad attack from Patrick.

The illusion falls. We’re back in Russia. And she vanishes into shadow saying “We’ll meet again”

The fire overtakes the door

Slap contest to grab the flame. Zara got a 7. Truk got a nat 1 so 26. Bob got a 28 and grabs the fire

And he books it to hell.

The final DC save is 32. Lanwel and Bragar fail

The flames sputter and Lanwel's power gives out. Ecastrial runs two Lanwel. Bragar vomits on his knees.

Bob 360s to get the flame back in the hearth.

And Iana rushes to wield the sun but Iana is overwhelmed and begins to burn being a arch angel trying to replace a god. Her blindfold melts away but there wasn't enough time to see the light. And she ends turning into a pile of ash.

Lanwel and Ecastrial mourn their loss. And Lanwel solemnly says “Return to your mother.” and the ashes start to glow and fly off

The door is destroyed and the hearth returns.

And Truk sees a small, wilted rose

Truk punches the ground. Over and over. The concrete is cracked. His hand is bleeding. Zara comforts him. Bob sees Betty White in the distance and pauses before turning and walking away.

Zariel: When are we gonna get a new door? Me: A business card for Redfeather Carpentry flutters down. “Give me a call” The Nap Sack got ransacked by the cat girls. (Morticia encouraged this. The Nap Sack got indigestion, so the cat girls are all in the dresser. The Nap Sack had it with their shit.) Zara collects everyone under her care and takes them to a room and the party hears muffled shouting.

Bob: Alfie is going to kill us. You know what? That’s a problem for future us. I’m going to the spa. I need therapy after all that...

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are Weird: D&D Part 3

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Human Barbarian: I roll to decapitate the shop keeper. Alien DM: Is there a reason you keep on decapitating LITERALLY everyone you meet? Barbarian: My character can’t die unless he falls in battle. Alien DM: But they aren’t battles if you kill them in one blow. Barbarian: True, but my guy has been around for hundreds of years and now just kills people for fun. Alien DM: *Looks at other party members* Is this normal? Wizard: Honestly it’s pretty tame for a barbarian. Rogue: At least he’s not the bard that became a necromancer. Alien: What happened with them? Wizard: They became a necromancer just so they could woo the woman that killed herself after talking to him. Alien: *Looks at Necromancer* Really? Necromancer: I was very proud of my seduction streak and I wasn’t about to let death break it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: Why do you always pick humanoid characters? Alien: Why not team up with something that is as large as a bear? Thief: We used to have a Loxodon fighter in the party, didn’t end well. Alien: What happened? Monk: We got trapped in a room flooding with water and only one way out. Warlock: The Loxodon insisted on going first through the doorway because they were afraid of water, but then became wedged in the tiny frame and couldn’t get free. Alien: How did you escape? Monk: We didn’t; we all drowned to death. Alien: If you all died then how are you here talking with me? Thief: Let’s just say we owe a man of questionable magic practices a lot of money. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warrior: Wizard, cast fireball on my sword! Alien Wizard: Why? Warrior: So it will catch on fire and do fire damage as well! DM: I’ll allow it. Alien Wizard: Okay. *rolls a nat 20* DM: Your fireball impacts the sword dead on and melts it instantly. Warrior: What? DM: What do you think happens to cheap metal after it’s been super-heated? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DM: As you sift through the remains of the now fallen lich lord you come across his most powerful weapon. Alien players: *getting excited* DM: A cursed blade slaked in the blood of a thousand thousand victims, each one adding their strength to whomever wields this mighty blade; the most powerful weapon you have ever come across. Alien players: *Really excited now* Alien warrior: Does it have a name? DM: *Nods* It is called……the Bunny Fluffer. Alien warrior: What? You can’t be serious. DM: I did say it was a curse blade. Alien: How can a blade called the “Bunny Fluffer” be cursed?!? DM: Every time you use it in battle you must loudly announce that you are attacking with the bunny fluffer. Alien warrior: You monster! That’s so evi- Alien warrior: *Now realizing why it is cursed* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: If I feed a Locathah sushi, am I committing a hate crime or unknowingly making them a cannibal? Alien DM: WTF man?!?!? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: You find yourself in a very suspicious village. Alien: You can’t just label an entire town as suspicious. Human: Roll a perception check then. Alien: *Rolls 20* Human DM: You see the town square barren save for a giant stone slab at the very center, the surface of it covered in strange red glyphs that seem to bleed the longer you stare at it. Human DM: The towns people all full length cloaks that hide their appearance with hoods so deep you cannot make out a single detail of their faces. They speak no words nor make a sound as they shift and to and fro between the buildings. Human DM: You stare up at the sky and see it thick with grey clouds that appear to bulge and retract randomly as if they are holding something within. Alien: Alright, alright, we get it. Alien: No need to be so on the nose about it. Human: You walked passed a mass murder drenched in blood because one of you saw the bar tenders dog run outside and wanted to go pet it. Human DM: I take no chances now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: You find yourself locked in the mansion, the body of the host laying across the ballroom floor as all the guests and staff look on. Alien DM: Any one of them could be the killer. Human Warlock: I say we lock all the doors and burn the house down. Human Paladin: What? Human Rogue: That’s a bit extreme. Warlock: Listen, I’ll cast a spell that will make anyone with a guilt free conscious fire resistant. Warlock: That way when the house is on fire only the killer will catch fire and everyone else would be safe. Rogue: I guess that might work…. Paladin: Still… Warlock: Look, I’ll even stay inside to prove how trust worthy it is while you all wait outside and bar the doors. Paladin: Very well. *some time later after the mansion burned down* *Party sees only the warlock remaining among the ashes* Paladin: Impossible! Paladin: They couldn’t all have been the killer! Warlock: True, but their minds were not guilt free so I’m afraid they caught fire. Rogue: So you knowingly just had us kill an entire mansion’s worth of people. Paladin: How are you still alive?! Warlock: Simple; I did not feel the slightest bit guilty about it. Warlock: *Proceeds to remove an artifact that collects the souls of the recently deceased* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: Pick your characters. Human: I am a Halfling necromancer. Human 2: I am an elf necromancer. Human 3: I am a human necromancer. Alien: Seriously?! Alien: Does no one want to be something else? Human 4: I am an orc shaman. Alien: Well thank y- Human 4: That dabbles in necromancy. Alien: Gods damnit! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: And with that you have finally slain the great dragon Human DM: The town of Scabersburgs will forever be in your debt. Alien Wizard: That was a stupid encounter, let’s end it here. *Human DM makes note as the group leaves for the night* *Next week’s encounter* Human DM: You return to find the town of Scaversburg in the grips of a deadly plague. Human DM: The town’s folk are being driven mad as over the last few days many of them have begun growing scales across their body, talons where their fingers once were, and some have even begun sprouting lizard like wings and tails. Human DM: As they see you all return to the village their collective shouts of anger roar across the town as the entire city springs forth to hunt you down. Alien Wizard: Wait what!? Alien Wizard: I call bullshit; how could this suddenly happen?! Human DM: Well, if you had waited long enough to hear the dragons dying words he placed a powerful curse on his blood that any who should drink of it shall become as he once was. Alien Wizard: That’s still bullshit! Alien Wizard: No way the villagers would just walk up to a dead dragon and drink its blood. Human DM: Unless because you failed to dispose of the body the blood seeped into the ground and mixed with the towns water supply, thus contaminating everyone. *Group angrily looks at Wizard that encouraged them to leave early* Human DM: Roll for initiative. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: As you make camp deep within the frost mountains of Galgieth you find that your provisions bag has torn open and you have no food to eat. Alien DM: Unless you act quickly you will starve to death. Wizard: I got this. Wizard: *Turns to barbarian* Wizard: Cut off my left arm. Barbarian: Done! *rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Confused* You chop off the left arm of your wizard, the limb falling lifelessly to the ground as spouts of blood pour out. Wizard: I cast regeneration to regrow my severed limb. *Rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Still confused* Your left arm grows back as if it was never gone. Wizard: I put my severed limb over the open fire to cook. Alien DM: You want to turn your party into cannibals? Rogue: Wouldn’t be the first time.

[ah-ga-seven]

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader 

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.  

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.  

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.  

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.  

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.  

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.  

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.  

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.  

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.  

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.  

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.  

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.  

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.  

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.  

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.  

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.  

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”  

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.  

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.  

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.  

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.  

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.  

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.  

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just…happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.  

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”  

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.  

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away.  Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.  

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.  

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.”  

[purplecatthirst]

10 Follower Special: The First Meeting (nsfw)

I mentioned that the 10 follower post was going to be SFW, and for that I am sorry, I'm marking it NSFW just in case.

This was requested by one of my fine followers over DM, I thought about it for a while and figured I just had to oblige.

I actually don't have a headcanon for how Mewtwo met his beloved human. So instead I've workshopped a couple of scenarios that I think make sense.

Content Warning: Blood, Injuries, Depression, Mentions of suicide, general angst.

First things first. You are not a trainer that beat and captured him in the Cerulean Caves. That would earn his obedience and, just maybe, his respect. But not his love. when fates aligned so that you two did meet, you left an impression on him. It might not have been love, not at first, but you made emotions well in him that he was unaware he could even feel. I've drafted up 3 possible scenarios, I'll keep some of the details vague, so you can fill in the gaps yourself.

An Unexpected Rescue

While in the woods, you spot an injured Vulpix, they are wounded and bleeding. And being chased by a couple of Weville's, their natural predators.

You spring into action with little thought, scooping up the injured Pokemon, before trying to flee to safety.

The pair of Weville's aren't far behind you. They don't usually attack humans, but you stand between them and their prey. You are nearly cut to ribbons by the hungry pokemon's sharp claws.

You clutch the Vulpix to your chest, trying to protect it. Your vision getting blurry as you start to feel cold, quickly losing blood. You were stupid to do this, but you had to. You couldn't let this lost kit suffer.

Unbeknownst to you, Mewtwo hovered nearby, watching. Why weren't you throwing out your own Pokemon? Why were you letting these two Wevilles kill you?

It only takes a couple of more moments for him to realize that you DONT have any Pokemon. Either you never had any at all, or you didn't have them with you. He huffs, "Silly human."

Well, he can't just there and just let you die. He descends, sending both Wevilles scurrying with a well timed move.

You see him descend, and trivally fights off the predatory pokemon, before turning and looking at you. You weakly look up at him, unsure of what he is. Hugging the scared, injured Vulpix to your chest to try and protect it, in case he was another predator.

Seeing you throw yourself into mortal danger for a wild pokemon, with no way to defend yourself. It almost makes him laugh. Your either very brave or very stupid. But he can't help but be touched and impressed, as he uses the items in your bag to patch your and the Vulpix's wounds.

It's been so long since he's talked to anyone.... You seem nice enough, for a human. It might be nice to exchange some words with you.

To Protect The Innocent

Ever since your first run in with Team Rocket, you have sworn yourself to opposing them at every turn, for one reason for another. You've saved a lot of Pokemon, a lot of people. You are something of a local hero.

This has, as expected, put you in a lot of danger. Things have more then once escalated from Pokemon battles to hand to hand brawls to having to take cover from gunfire. You have some scars to your name as a result.

You hear that they are moving something BIG, that Giovanni was going to be making a move to try and capture a Legendary. No matter what specific Pokemon it was, that much power in the hand of a madman. You inform Officer Jenny, and the two of you move to stop his dastardly plan. Maybe you have your own small adventuring party, Just like Ash and his friends.

By the time you arrive, Things have already begun. Your not sure WHAT your really looking at, deep in the Cerulean Caves, but it's surrounded by grunts and their mons, attack from all angles. This is not a battle, this is a hunt. One that the psychic type pokemon was slowly losing. They came prepared.

After sending you and Jenny send your own Pokemon out, you manage to turn the tide, you and Jenny both knocking a few heads yourself.

The cat-like legendary is hurt bad by the time everything is said and done. But alive, and uncaptured. Goons and fainted Pokemon liter the cave floor.

You act Quickly to patch up the wounds on Mewtwo, using potions and banadges, while Jenny rounds up the criminals. He pulls away from your touch. He's confused, a rarity for him. Did you know he was down here? He know's Jenny's place as a police officer, but you are a mystery to him. Most people don't so openly oppose team rocket.

You talk some as you both rest. You explain who you are and the vendetta you have against Team Rocket.

You don't really notice, but his lips twitch up in a half smile. A human who stands up against the cruel actors of the world. And who's not afraid to get their own hands dirty, fighting right alongside their companions...

That's someone he can respect. He will be keeping a close eye on you....

Finger on The Eject Button

You are a broken person. Tragedy after tragedy has eaten away at you. You are tired, tired of the barren wasteland of this reality. I will leave the exact details up to you. You are helpless, scared, and just so, so tired.

You decide it's finally time. You've thought about it plenty, maybe for years. But something happens, and you break. This is the end.

You travel into the Cerulean Caves, somewhere deep and dark where you won't leave a mess for people to clean up. You sit, pulling out a small syringe full of dark liquid. Seviper venom. More then a lethal dose. You might get a stomach ache, but then you will slowly drift off. It's clean, near painless, and guaranteed. You spent what little money you had left on it.

You hesitate, a natural reaction, knowing what's to come. Your thumb slowly over the plunger, needle hovering over your skin. Your breath quickens. Your finger is on the button, you just need to give it a push.

Mewtwo watches you from a distance, at first completely unsure of what you are up to, travelling so deep into the cave, so late at night, with no Pokemon. It's a miracle you've made it here without any trouble.

His confusion only grows more as he sees you pull out the needle. At this point he is curious of the human who stumbled into his lair, seemingly obliviously. He peers into your mind to try and see just hat your doing here...

His stomach flips as he realizes what your about to do. He's not sure what he should do. He shouldn't care about you, your a single human. While he no longer harbors an all consuming grudge, a single human life is not something he would normally worry over.

But seeing you there, so vulnerable. So broken and damaged by the world that this is the only real option you see as being viable. It brings out some kind of new emotion in him. Something protective. You remind him of himself, on his darkest days. Cursing his existence. It's horrible. Something he wants nobody to go through, not even a random human.

He does the only thing he can think of, revealing himself, softly talking to you. 'Human. You seem like you could use someone to talk to.'

His surprise introduction, soft as it might have been, was enough to startle you. You gasp as he introduces himself. Kneeling down to meet you at eye level. After calming down, you talk for a while. He can't help but feel some sort of affinity to you. Two broken souls who's shards fit together to create something whole....

woah shit. I just sat down for 2 hours and just HAMMERED that one out. Sorry if it seems odd or angsty, I don't really care for "Mewtwo falls in love with his trainer" type of stories. Anyway, these are only some of the ideas I had. Like I mentioned before, I don't normally think on this topic, so it took me a minute.

Please, let me know what you enjoyed!

[yourplayersaidwhat]

The Fighter Tempts Fate

long post, I’ll try and cut out some of the unrelated fluff, everything is quoted from out roll20 chat with some spelling edits

context: During this session two players weren’t able to make it to the game with one showing up late, so they had less fire power than usual. It’s a heavily homebrewed game with the players all at level 5 and able to deal and take a fair amount of damage. So far they had handled every encounter fairly well.

The party, having agreed to help a homebrew race (Sinecords) created by a demon gain freedom, arrived at a cave where a portal to the demon world is kept, but is heavily guarded. After killing two guards at the mouth of the cave. They used a sinecord general that they captured to draw out a guard only for them to run back in to alert the others. The fighter killed the general, then he and the paladin attempted to enter the cave.

Fighter, yelling into the cave: "I am giving you one chance to surrender. If you refuse, you have a choice of being impaled on my spear or being vaporized. You have one minute to decide.“ […] Me, the DM: "from inside you can hear the voices of several Sinecords followed by an odd sound echoing through the cave from within you hear one yell back "leave now or face your death”“

Paladin OOC:  "Do I get a sense how far into the cave they are?”

Fighter: laughs "Do you want to come out and see the pile of ash that was once your comrade?“ (one of the guards they already killed)

NPC guard: "it’s the lizard who killed [the general]”

NPC commander: “ready your weapons”

Me: “it sounds like they’re a good distance inside, obscured by the darkness of the cave”

[…]

Paladin: “Guess the only way in is here” And I’ll step through the entrance

Fighter, carrying the dead body of the general: "I have a plan.“ […]

Me: "as you step into the mouth of the cave one guard yells "fire!”“

Cleric: ”“I’m pretty sure they’re prepared for-” before he gets cut off by the guard"

Paladin, a warforged with high AC: “Can I have made sure to enter before [Fighter] so any incoming fire is targeted on me?”

Me: “you stand in front of [Fighter] and look into the cave. From the back of the guard group, 2 of the sinecords prepare fire spells in their hands, illuminating the 6 holding heavy crossbow in front of them, crouched down to allow a volley of bolts to fill the cave entrance”

Paladin: “Bring it on”

Fighter: "Step back, I will enact my plan.“

Fighter OOC: ”[Fighter] raises the corpse to cover himself [and] steps forward and shakes the body to mimic speech “

Fighter: "As your general, I, uh, order you to stand down!”

Paladin OOC: “I think we’re going to be shot a bit before you can enact your plan [Fighter’s Username]”

Each was then hit with 3 bolts each, all missed the Paladin while 2 hit the Fighter. The Fighter attempted to retreat while the Paladin stood strong as the 2 wizard guards both cast fireball. Between the two of them they made 4 dexterity saves, only 1 of the Fighter’s saves succeed

Fighter OOC: “If I take 40 damage I’m knocked out”

Me: “is [Paladin] still alive?”

Paladin OOC: “nope”

Me: “are you both dying?”

Fighter OOC: “Yes”

Me: “[Cleric] watches as his two companions fucking explode out of the mouth of the cave as the two wizards cast fire ball at them both, [the general’s] corpse is now on fire”

Cleric OOC: “[Cleric] receives 40 mental scarring damage”

It was then that the Wizard arrived to the game, after stabilizing the Paladin and Fighter the party began to fight with a few guards that followed them out of the cave. The Paladin almost dies again but survives as a 20 misses him and the Cleric and Wizard[multiclass wizard cleric] use healing spells to try and keep the two alive long enough as they prepared to retreat.

The Fighter gets up with 1 hit point and makes a ranged attack against a Sinecord commander

This leads the commander to order one of the guard wizards to hit him with another fire ball almost killing the Fighter instantly.

He managed to survive and, as a result of his two near death experiences, now has the ghost of the general he killed haunting him. Despite being a divination wizard, it was the fighter that ended up predicting that someone would get vaporized, just not the on side they thought would.

[starlitangels]

okay okay okay, hear me out. The wolf boys, their mates, AND their kids playing DnD together for a birthday. It would be chaotic and wholesome all at the same time.

Oh man. Can you imagine though? I mean, playing DnD with my parents would be a disaster because they don't know how, but I intend to teach my future children how to play so we can play as a family

But, yeesh, that would be hilarious. I still think David would be reluctant to play, but one puppy eyes from his little girl would convince him to sit at the table.

Ash would probably actively try to sabotage the kids—but in a cute and wholesome way, just to push their "creative problem solving" skills. His kid's character punches his character at least once. Asher doesn't stop laughing for a few minutes.

Milo is still the DM, trying desperately to keep a combat scenario running with this many players (I'm so sorry, Milo—I feel your pain). His kid, who's been DMing for the kids' group, is just happy to be playing for once. #ForeverDMLife

When the final boss is finally dead, whoever's birthday it is finally gets to open their presents

Meanwhile Angel, Babe, and Sweetheart are being menaces to their mates, kids, and each other just for the fun of it—

Yeah, it'd be hilarious!

[maddiewritesstucky]

Whenever You’re Ready

I am equal parts excited and terrified to share this story with you all. This one is very special to me, and it has been an Emotional Experience putting these words to page, so far removed from what I usually write. Huge acknowledgement to @doctorenterprise whose honest critiques vastly improved this story, and @buckyandthejets who validated the hell out of me, thank you both so much 😘

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve/Bucky (Modern AU)

Word count: 5189

Tags: Angst, infidelity (not between Steve/Bucky), heavy on the feels, reference to past internalized homophobia, lost love, reunions, emotional sex, happy ending

*CW: Infidelity - In this story, Bucky has sex with Steve even though he is (unhappily) married to someone else. Please avoid this story if you will find this triggering, or feel free to DM me if you need more details. It all ends well!*

***

“Never changes, does it?” 

 It goes straight to Steve’s bones, that voice, all the way down to his marrow. He doesn’t turn around at the sound of it, nor at the muted clunk of footsteps on the dock behind him; slowly closing the distance to where Steve’s standing, thinking. 

Waiting.

He’s been out here long enough to have watched the sun disappear behind the mountainous horizon, taking with it its warmth and making way for the quiet chill of evening to set in. It’s far enough away here, from the music and revelry and reminiscence, that Steve can almost pretend those words are true; that nothing’s changed, that there’s nothing and no one else in existence but the two of them, and the reflection of the moon rising over the lake. 

“Some things do.” 

It comes out bitter, even though Steve’s spent years telling himself he’s not; that the pit in his stomach and the hole in his chest have a different name, a different face. It’s a pointless grief, after so many years. Decades, now, as the banners and balloons up at the reunion were boasting.

He knew what he was doing, coming here tonight. Like pushing on a bruise to make sure it still hurts. And it did, it does, because Bucky is right - the camp hasn’t changed a bit, and Steve might be pushing forty now but his heart is still nineteen; still standing at the end of this dock at sundown waiting for those footsteps behind him, for that warm hand slipping into his and that familiar voice saying his name like it’s music, like it means something.

“Steve…” 

...There’s no hand, and his name is just a name. It aches in the exact place Steve had thought it would.

“She’s pretty, Buck. You look good together.”  

He thinks he hears Bucky’s breath hitch, but it could have been the breeze catching in the trees, or the lick of water at the splintered edge of the dock. It would be easier if it were a lie, might sit sweeter on Steve’s tongue if he were sugar coating something false, something to say for the sake of speaking, but he means it. 

That aches, too.

“I married her,” Bucky says, and the way it sounds like an apology sinks like a lead weight in Steve’s gut.

“I heard.” 

“Steve, will you please look at me?” 

Despair frays the edges of each word, and Steve shakes his head, blows out a ragged breath into the cool night air. 

He had looked at Bucky, had watched him walk in tonight looking every bit like the man Steve always knew he’d grow into - strong, kind-eyed, beautiful; age starting to show in the soft flecks of grey at his temples, but missing from where Steve thought it’d make itself known first. 

“You don’t have smile lines,” he can hear the frown in his own voice as the thought slips past his lips, “always thought you’d have smile lines, way you were always laughing at everything.”  

“Steve...” 

It’s a sob, this time; unmistakable, and it rips the ground out from beneath Steve. 

There’s a hand on his back, slipping down the column of his spine; a shivering body pressing up close behind him and a forehead dropping against his shoulder. Tears soak wet through the back of Steve’s shirt and two arms circle around his waist, a hold long-forgotten and achingly familiar all at once, and Steve can’t remember how to breathe.

“Bucky,” he begins, though he has no idea where it ends.

His hands come up to cover Bucky’s, threading their fingers together and pulling Bucky’s arms tighter around himself, and it feels nothing like it used to because Steve’s heart wasn’t broken back then. 

When Bucky’s lips find the crook of his neck, that doesn’t feel anything like it used to either, but Steve tilts his head for it anyway; offers up the expanse of his throat like he’d once offered up the rest of his life to the man holding him. 

All of me, he’d said so long ago, every day of every year I have left. All for you.

Bucky’s hands slip to Steve’s hips, his mouth at the hinge of Steve’s jaw, and it’s so wholly selfish, the way Steve wants this. It’s years of longing and anger and loss made harder by all the ways Bucky wasn’t gone, and the tattered vestiges of Steve’s heart are screaming at him to stop before there’s nothing left of himself to salvage.

 “You left me.” 

There’s no emotion left in the statement, not anymore. It bled out years ago, muffled into Steve’s pillow and screamed into voids and hurled at the walls of his too-quiet, too-empty house. 

It’s hollow, now, but Steve feels how heavy it lands in the way Bucky’s entire body curls in on itself behind him.

“I know,” Bucky whispers, his tear-stained cheek tucked against the side of Steve’s face. 

The immensity of pain buried in those two words sinks jagged teeth into the meat of Steve’s heart, and he can’t believe he still bleeds for it after all these years. He knows he should walk away from this, pry himself free of the physical hold Bucky has on him and spend the rest of his days praying those soul-ties unknot themselves too. 

But the wound is open now, if it were ever really closed, and he can’t stop himself from tugging on the busted stitches to see just how raw and messy he can make it. 

“Tell me why,” he turns in the circle of Bucky’s arms, cups the back of Bucky’s neck and makes him meet the full force of his gaze. 

Give me salt for this wound, he’s pleading, and Bucky would have every right to deny him because this conversation has no place here; has no place in any universe where there’s a ring on Bucky’s finger. 

But Bucky came to him, Bucky broke the silence and put his hands on Steve like he’s just as hungry to hurt for this again, and maybe they both just need to bleed it out together. 

“Because we couldn’t,” Bucky twists his fists tight and frantic into the fabric of Steve’s shirt. “I couldn’t...Jesus, if my family had found out—” 

“I loved you,” Steve spits, “it was real, and I loved you, and you loved me too.” 

“Fuck, Steve, of course I loved you!” There’s desperation there now, in Bucky’s hands on him; not just clinging but clawing, no space between them for air or reason or good judgement. “You think it didn’t break me, too?” 

“I wouldn’t fucking know what it did to you, Bucky,” Steve runs a fingertip across the plain gold band hugging Bucky’s finger, digging his nail in under the ridge of it, “but it seems like you bounced back just fine.” 

Bucky sucks in a breath, and Steve doesn’t hear him let it go again. He’s doing nothing to mask the anguish on his face as he stares up at Steve, lips parted and eyes welling over; his brow knotted into lines that form all too easy, like they’re well worn at this point, and it’s so so wrong. 

Steve smoothes his thumb over the groove between Bucky’s eyebrows; pushes at it like it’s something he can rub away. 

“Aren’t you happy?” he hears himself ask, hurt and exhausted and terrified of the answer. 

It’s not until Bucky shakes his head, tears spilling anew from his red-rimmed eyes, that Steve realizes there was any part of himself left that was yet to break.

“Not a day of my life, Steve. Not without you.” 

Steve will never be emptier than this, seeing the truth of it all spelled out across Bucky’s face. It had been all the light Steve had left, that small embittered part of himself that’d believed Bucky was better off for the way things had gone. 

What was left, now? It had burned Steve down to ash, losing Bucky, but loving him was inextricable, and thinking he was happy out there was the only reason Steve could sleep at night.

“What do I do with that, Buck?” 

There are tears in Steve’s eyes now too, a tremble in his voice and the dead weight of regret hanging off his words. 

Bucky takes Steve’s face between his hands, too tight to be tender. When he sweeps his thumbs across the tears tracking down Steve’s cheeks, it only spreads them further. 

“Kiss me?” 

Bucky leaves it in the space between them like it’s the only answer he has left, and Steve wishes it didn’t make sense. 

 Another place, another time; a different dock and a different sky, and Steve might see the insanity of it, the notion that putting his lips against Bucky’s could be a salve instead of just another scar. 

But they’re here, with those same stars and that same rundown boat shed with it’s broken door, and Steve lets himself close the distance between their mouths, because it’s the only answer he has left, too.

He kisses Bucky with every minute of every day of every wasted year sitting there on the tip of his tongue. He holds Bucky too close and breathes him in too deep, leans all too willing into the pass of Bucky’s hands over his body.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Bucky sobs brokenly, slipping his hands up under the hem of Steve’s shirt to splay across his bare skin. 

Steve shakes his head because he can’t hear that now, with Bucky’s hands on him. Remorse can’t coexist with the warmth of Bucky’s palms and the slick press of his mouth, not when there isn’t even room for moonlight between them. 

“Don’t,” Steve whispers, “don’t tell me that.”

Bucky’s hand finds its way up to the center of Steve’s chest, his fingertips curling into a grip on Steve’s flesh like he can reach in and take hold of what lies beneath. Steve’s not sure there’s anything left in there to grab onto, but he lets Bucky try anyway because if there is, it will only ever belong in his hand. 

“Can I tell you I still think of you?” Bucky kisses the words against Steve’s cheek, trails them down the line of his jaw. “Never stopped thinking about you, Steve.” 

You should have, is what Steve should say, you’re not mine anymore.

“Someone will see us,” is what Steve does say, even as his fingertips dip beneath the waistband of Bucky’s pants. 

Someone is probably looking for Bucky right now, but there’s no room for that truth here, either. Especially when Bucky pulls back and looks toward the long abandoned boat shed, and then back at Steve.

There are so many opportunities for Steve to choose differently, to tell Bucky to stop. When Bucky takes him by the hand with a plea in his gaze; when he pulls Steve down the dock, and into that boat shed...it’s been a lifetime and Steve is a grown man, too old to be this foolish. But he’s tired, too worn down from years of unmet longing to be anything other than reckless when presented with everything he’s lived without for so painfully long. 

So he doesn’t say a word. 

He lets it happen, and he helps it happen. He raises his arms for Bucky to pull off his shirt, tilts his hips when Bucky works his belt loose and tugs down his pants. 

He strips Bucky bare with his own two hands and pulls him against his own naked body, sobbing open and unashamed for the way it makes him feel whole for the first time in twenty years. 

He maps the planes of Bucky’s body, no longer rounded and softened by youth, but every bit as warm as the memories Steve has clung to, and it shouldn’t feel right because it isn’t; shouldn’t feel so familiar when there’s been decades of distance between them. 

“I miss you.” 

It trips off Steve’s tongue before he can stop it, small and breathless. Of all the three-word truths he could have let slip it isn’t the worst, but Bucky’s wounded noise says that it cuts just as deep. 

He catches Bucky’s lips against his own before Bucky can do anything stupid like say it back; fisting his hands up through Bucky’s hair and pushing his tongue into Bucky’s mouth.

He wants to do this slow, to sink deep enough into it that every touch and every moment cling to him like a brand. But it’s only ever been a headlong tumble, this journey that begins with Bucky’s bare skin against his own, and Steve can feel himself falling the same way he always did.

Open palms turn to pressing fingertips, lips on skin turn to grazing teeth, and a dusty hammock spread across the floorboards. It’s another twist of the knife, the way Bucky’s body still fits beneath his own just as perfect as it ever did, the way Bucky’s spread thighs still make the perfect cradle for his hips. 

Bucky still looks up at him from the flat of his back with the same awe he’d turn upon the night sky, like Steve’s still the only heaven he believes in, and there’s too much gravity in that gaze. There always was, but there was no reason not to get dragged into it back then. 

It’s not until Bucky’s fingertips brush softly over his eyelids, tracing the sweep of his lashes, that Steve realizes he’s closed his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” Bucky whispers.

Steve almost wants to laugh, because if he were thinking at all, he wouldn’t be here. 

He’s not laid out naked on top of someone else’s husband because he’s thinking; not about to put his mouth and his fingers and his cock where they don’t belong because he’s in his right mind. 

Steve is an exposed nerve, a callous that’s been rubbed raw, and he’ll pretend that’s all he is for as long as it takes to see the man he never stopped loving fall apart beneath him one last time.

He buries his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and bites down on the softness he finds there, all the answer he intends on giving. There’s no good reason for him to still know the exact spot to sink his teeth into, but he’s not about to waste time pretending he doesn’t remember every last touch point that ever made Bucky lose his mind. 

His right earlobe, the notch of his clavicle, the tender space beneath his ribs. 

His hip bones, and his wrists, and the soft insides of his thighs, sensitive all the way down to his knees.

Maybe after all this time it’s only nostalgia, only because they both want so badly to be who they once were to each other. But Bucky’s body still sings the exact same tune when Steve plays it, tongue and teeth and fingertips in all the right places.

“Please,” Bucky gasps, giving over to it just as easy as he always did. He’s hiding nothing of himself, not in the sprawl of his body or the longing in his gaze, the breathless sounds dripping off his lips. 

He arches into the rub of Steve’s skin against his, splays his thighs wide for Steve’s hips then wider still for Steve’s shoulders, and he looks down the line of his body with all the same rapture when Steve finally takes him into the heat of his mouth.

“Oh...” 

It’s so soft, the sound Bucky makes. One tiny word, more breath than anything else, yet it somehow holds all the sentiment of of course, and how have I lived without this, and Steve is ruined for it. 

He’s sixteen again, realizing that want begins and ends with Bucky Barnes.

He is seventeen, discovering that the only thing better than getting his hands on Bucky, is getting his mouth on him. 

He is eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty; bone-deep certain that for him, there will only ever be Bucky.

“Stevie,” Bucky sighs. He reaches gentle fingertips to brush the hair back off Steve’s forehead; traces the stretch of Steve’s lips around him with all the tender wonder of their youth.

...Steve is thirty-nine, and he will never come back from this. 

He holds Bucky’s gaze as he swallows him down, watches the play of pleasure across Bucky’s face like it’s still his to behold. 

He sinks all of himself into chasing those awed, quiet sounds that have existed only as echoes for so long, and pretends it’s not the worst kind of cruelty that this act should still feel so sacred; that Bucky should still be that breathless, trembling embodiment of surrender. 

Back arched, thighs twitching, face flushed and lips parted…it’s as devastating as Steve remembers, and so much more so for the fact that he has no right to witness it anymore. 

“Steve, please...” 

Bucky looks down at him imploringly, reaches for him with open hands. 

Steve hollows his cheeks as he pulls off him, slow and tight. He crawls back up Bucky’s body until they’re face to face, until he’s covering Bucky’s body with his own.

“I’m here, Buck.” 

I’m weak, Buck.

He cups Bucky’s face in his hands, strokes his thumbs across Bucky’s cheekbones and nudges their noses together. He breathes Bucky’s air and kisses his lips, soft and careful until it’s not; until it’s just Steve pouring all his hunger and his longing and his desperation into Bucky’s mouth.

And he is desperate. Every last part of him is breaking for the feel of Bucky’s bare skin, his bare arousal, rubbing up against his own; for the responsibility of holding Bucky’s vulnerability and his nakedness and his pleasure in the palms of his hands.

“God, it’s been so long,” Steve’s voice splinters around the words, around the sobs that want to keep coming, “it’s been so long, Bucky...”

He rolls his hips heavy and deep, slips his hands beneath Bucky’s shoulders to keep them locked tight together. There’s sweat beading between them, spit and precum slicking their skin, and every promise they ever made weighing dense in the air. 

Bucky’s fingernails are sunk deep enough into his back that Steve can feel the half-moon imprints forming; Bucky’s legs hitched up around his hips and soft moans passing back and forth between their open mouths. 

Steve had always wondered what this must look like from the outside, the way they get lost in one another. The quiet gasps and heavy breaths, the pleasured sounds that catch between their lips. Bodies shaking, hands clinging, eyes open because it’s the closest thing to heaven you’d ever see. 

It’s immensity was always buried in the slowness of it all, but it’s as consuming and inevitable as it ever was. 

He knows Bucky’s close before Bucky tells him he is; can feel it thrumming through Bucky’s body beneath him. He knows he shouldn’t watch it happen, shouldn’t sharpen that mental picture back into focus when it had taken so long to blur its edges in the first place. 

He shouldn’t moan brokenly into Bucky’s mouth and rock harder against him; shouldn’t push up onto his hands and fix his gaze squarely on Bucky’s face.

‘Shouldn’t’ doesn’t mean a goddamn thing anymore.

“Come with me?” Bucky pleads, eyes glassy and body strung taut. 

He presses a trembling hand to Steve’s heart and the other to Steve’s neck, holding his racing pulse and his heartbeat in his hands just the same as he had the first time they made love, and Steve comes apart at the seams.

It’s unending, that wash of raw feeling. It’s galaxies inside his rib cage and oceans in his veins, and wildfire curling around the base of his spine. He breathes Bucky’s name, spills all over his stomach, and when Bucky follows him over he ducks down to drink the wonder of it right off Bucky’s lips. 

The quiet weighs so much heavier, as they lay pressed together in the aftermath. 

Steve looks down at the man beneath him, watches his breathing settle and the flush subside from his cheeks, and the ache of the past suddenly pales in comparison to what lies ahead. 

What exists for them beyond this moment, here and now? Bucky’s face is cradled in Steve’s hands and his nakedness is sheltered by Steve’s body, but even this was never Steve’s to offer. It’s time and touch already stolen, and the rhythmic lap of water against the dock outside may as well be the ticking of a clock.

“What happens now, Buck?” he asks, knowing there’s no comfort to be found in the answer. 

Bucky shakes his head, touching gentle fingertips to Steve’s cheek and searching Steve’s gaze. 

“I don’t know.”

The night air is cold against Steve’s back, all the warmth that had seemed to wrap so close around them dissipating. 

He slowly moves off of Bucky and gathers up their clothes, redressing himself with fingers that fumble weak and uncoordinated with the fabric that had been so very easy to take off. 

“...If you asked me to leave her, I would.” 

Bucky’s voice comes small from behind him, but the words take up every last inch of space in the room. 

Steve turns to look at him, and there’s something so painfully close to hope on his face, it makes Steve’s chest ache. 

“I can’t do that, Bucky,” he rasps, “it can’t be up to me.” 

The regret in it is palpable, the ‘I wish it was’ joining the thousand other things that live, unsaid, on the tip of Steve’s tongue.

I am so much yours that it hurts

I will never stop hoping for you 

I will love you for the rest of my life

It’s years too late, for all of it. But those words still throw themselves against the backs of Steve’s teeth, because if not now, then when?

 “Bucky, I—”

 “James?”

 ...The soft call comes from outside, carried on the breeze from a little ways off. 

There’s nothing in it, no suspicion, no concern. Just someone looking for the person they’ve lost, wondering where they’ve gone to. 

Steve’s stomach sinks, and the clock runs out.

Bucky looks at him, eyes wide and lips falling open like he intends to speak. No sound comes out, but Steve understands all the same - Bucky’s gaze always said more than words ever could, anyway.  

“You should go back, Buck.” 

Steve says it gently, though neither of them deserve that kindness after what they’ve done. He picks up his sweater, and he leaves what’s left of his heart on the floor, because he’s got no use for it without the man he’s about to walk away from. 

“If you ever…” Steve starts, and stops himself, shaking his head softly. His gaze sticks to the spot just in front of Bucky’s feet, his body half turned toward the door. 

“...You know where I’ll be,” he says instead, and then he gathers up his shoes in his hands and steps back out into the evening, because he’s no more capable of saying ‘goodbye’ to Bucky now than he was back then.

 ***

It’s a half hour walk home along the edge of the lakeshore, but it takes Steve hours; tears washing a salt-sting down his cheeks and his feet in the too-cold water the entire way.

It doesn’t even scratch the surface of what he deserves, that frigid needling against his skin and the stones underfoot. But the greater punishment will come, he knows.

When he gets home, and has to live the rest of his life knowing not only what he lost, but what he did to try and dull the ache of it. 

When he gets home, to that rambling, too-quiet house on the lake edge, where Bucky’s touch is set into the very foundations.

The roof they had helped Steve’s dad patch, the summer Steve turned eighteen; the creaking window ledge that would betray Bucky’s midnight visits to Steve’s bedroom, and that same kitchen table where they’d try not to blush at each other’s gaze. 

The porch swing where they’d watch the sun go down; every wall and doorframe they’d kissed up against when Steve’s parents weren’t around to see it; every tree they ever made love or fell asleep beneath...

He may not have seen Bucky in the flesh in almost twenty years, but there hasn’t been a day of Steve’s life since that he hasn’t felt the echo of his presence, and now it will hum under his skin the same way it always has in his house. 

The sky is awash with stars he can’t bear to look at by the time he makes it home, feet numb and shivering all over. 

He trudges the path from the lakeshore back up to his house, clearing the tree line and stepping into the moonlight spilling full and bright over his yard, over his homestead. 

Over the unfamiliar car parked in his dirt-track driveway, and the figure sitting, waiting, on his porch. 

“...Bucky?” 

His body slows in its tracks, stops halfway across the yard and won’t carry him any further forward. 

Bucky makes no move to close the distance between them either, save to stand slowly on unsteady legs and step down onto the silver-lit lawn. 

“Hey, Steve.”

His arms are curled around himself, his shoulders rounded and his feet shifting on the grass. Even in the moonlight, Steve can see the swell of too many tears shed around Bucky’s eyes, and he’d look like he was about to run if not for the set of his jaw; the unwavering hold of his gaze on Steve’s.

“Buck, what are you...how long have you—”

“I did it.” 

Bucky’s voice cracks - not like a heart breaking, but like a weight falling away, like a world upending, and it hits Steve like a blow to the back of the knees.

“You did what, Bucky?” 

He knows what he’s hearing, what Bucky has just laid before him, but he asks anyway because it can’t be that; that terrible, selfish thing that Steve has dreamed of and hoped for and hated himself for wanting all these years. 

Bucky can’t be here, standing under the light of the full moon, hours after they made love that was all passion and no integrity, telling Steve that.

Bucky takes a step forward, just one. Not close enough to touch, but close enough for Steve to see that he’s shaking.

“I told her, Steve. I told her what I did tonight...told her the truth about me.” 

“The truth...” 

Steve’s chest is crushing in on itself, the air between them so thin and fragile he’s afraid to breathe it in. 

Bucky wraps himself tighter in the circle of his own arms, shaking his head and dropping his gaze to the ground. 

“I was scared, Steve,” he whispers, “back then...We were kids, and I was so scared of what it meant, the way I felt about you. And I thought I could...make myself feel that, again. For someone else. Someone who was...” 

He blows out a shuddering breath, kicking at the ground in front of him.

“...Someone that everybody else would accept. But I couldn’t, Steve. I tried, I tried so fucking hard, and I thought that if I got married, then maybe...maybe it’d be better, because I’d have no choice but to love her. But I just...I couldn’t feel that again. I couldn’t, because I never fuckin’ stopped feeling it, for you.”

Steve aches, in every part of his being, all the way down in his soul. He stares at the man he’s loved his whole life, and he aches for the both of them; for the half-lives they’ve been living, tied to one another with string that had stretched when it would have been kinder to snap. 

“I got it so wrong, Steve,” Bucky sobs, his eyes screwing shut against free-flowing tears. “I chose so wrong. And I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry…”

Steve’s body moves without thought, reaches and wraps itself around Bucky’s trembling frame; tight like he can save Bucky from this inevitable unraveling. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” he shakes his head, heartbreak spilling raw into his voice, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Bucky’s face is tucked into the crook of his neck and his tears are catching cold against Steve’s skin. But Steve’s own are falling into Bucky’s hair, and his hands are shaking too hard for their strokes up and down Bucky’s back to be any real comfort, and neither of them move to change a thing about it.  

“I’ve thought of you every day,” the confession slips quiet from Steve’s lips, and he lets it, “I’ve missed you, every day.” 

Bucky gasps a hitching breath into Steve’s shirt, holds tight to the fabric at his back. 

“Fuck, I got more to make up for here than I’ve got years left,” he shudders, pulling back to find Steve’s eyes. “I got no right to ask you for anything ever again, and I know I gotta put some things right first, get myself right, but...but would you ever...could we, ever…” 

Steve is nodding. Before Bucky’s even gotten the words out, Steve’s nodding. 

There are so many questions still to be asked and answered, so many conversations to be had and blows that are yet to land in the aftermath. The road that lies ahead is unpaved and unmapped, and the sunrise will shed light on realities they haven’t even considered. 

But none of that changes what Steve knows to be true, here and now. 

He knows that the window ledge still creaks; that that tree still bears more fruit than he knows what to do with, and the roof hasn’t once leaked, not during a single storm.

He knows that in any lifetime, any versions of themselves...they could. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Bucky,” come home when you’re ready, Bucky, “you know where I’ll be.” 

***

It takes time, just like Steve knew it would. 

It takes tears, and words that are just as hard to hear as they are to say. 

It’s wounds reopened just to be stitched back together better, right this time; stitched to heal instead of just to survive. 

Bucky is gone again, for a while, but his absence isn’t the bleak void it once was. It’s time apart for the sake of a life together, for both of them to rebuild what was broken and find a new sense of ‘whole.’ 

It’s Bucky finding his feet as the person he’s always been, and learning to speak his truth. It’s untangling himself from the life he was never meant to live, and finding forgiveness where it’s needed. 

It’s Steve ripping up those floorboards that creak, and it’s letting himself sleep. It’s replacing the wallpaper that was more peel than pattern, and it’s teaching himself to roll with the waves of joy and grief until he can sit just as comfortably with both.

It takes time; eight months and twenty-one days worth of it. 

But they heal, and Bucky finds his way home. 

And this time, it sticks.

[acciowests]

Strawberry Pancakes and Unicorn Blankets

WORD COUNT: 1211

SUMMARY: Ash Blackbeak is three years old and needier than ever. With Elide only weeks from giving birth again, Manon takes it upon herself to look after their toddler and make sure her wife can relax.

"Mama, Mama, Mama!"

Manon turned, scooping up her daughter as she came bounding into the room. She had been getting ready for the morning, a pair of black, ripped jeans now pulled on and her white lace bra blending into the paleness of her skin as she lifted Ash onto her hip. The toddler was dressed in denim dungarees, a red and white striped top beneath and matching red socks, her chubby thighs on show as they wrapped around her mother. Her brown hair was back in pigtails, white scrunchies matching her shirt. Elide was her personal stylist and she took the job with pride.

"There you are!" Elide appeared in the doorway, her swollen stomach clinging to the tight material of the blue dress she had on as she waddled forward. Ash giggled, hiding in Manon's neck and gripping her platinum strands.

"You're not running away from Mommy are you?" Manon chuckled, tickling Ash's side as she wiggled around on her hip. She was getting far too heavy to be carried, but Manon obliged happily, pressing a kiss to her daughter's hair as she rocked her.

Ash lifted her head, cupping her hands as she whispered into Manon's ear, "She trying feed me fruit! Ashy no want fruit."

Elide sighed, moving to the bed as she rubbed at her stomach, "They're strawberries. For on top of pancakes. You love pancakes, Ash."

Ash shook her head, a gentle frown marking her brows, "Want strawberry sauce, not strawberries."

Manon couldn't help but smile, trying to hide her laugh. Ash was going through that stage where her food likes and dislikes changed extremely rapidly. They'd been eating strawberries and cream for dessert last week and now strawberries were the bane of existence to their stubborn baby girl. "We don't have sauce," started Manon, plopping Ash on the bed beside Elide as she reached for a shirt, "It's strawberries or plain pancakes, I'm afraid."

Ash folded her arms, something she'd copied from Manon and was now using frequently. Giving a huff, she slid from the bed, stomping out the room and to her bedroom across the hall. Elide laid back against the bed, letting her eyes flutter as Manon slipped on a grey band t-shirt. After slipping on some socks and brushing through her hair, she stood in front of her wife, offering her hands to pull her up. "C'mon love, she'll be back down in a minute and begging for pancakes. Meanwhile, how about I cook us some bacon?" she offered, watching as Elide opened a single eye to peer at her.

Raising her hands, she let Manon pull her into a sitting position. She could see how tired she was, and it didn't help that she was running around after a three-year-old while she was due to give birth again in a few weeks. Manon moved to the bed, one arm going around Elide's shoulders and her other hand resting on her bump, "Let me look after you both. You shouldn't be stressing out, remember? Yrene's orders."

Her shoulder's slumped as she lent against Manon, "How can I not be stressed? I love Ash with my whole heart, but I feel like I can never meet her needs. And Tarin is keeping me up all night. I can't even imagine trying to handle them both at once."

"Hey," Manon whispered, pressing a kiss to Elide's temple, "You're an amazing mom. Ash is... Well, she's Ash. She's difficult and grumpy and stubborn, but she's our baby. Trust me, I was even worse as a kid. We can do this, El. I'm going to be here. There's two of us and two of them. It's going to be okay."

Elide wiped at her eyes where tears had begun to pool, giving a little sniff as she nodded, "I love you so much. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

Before Manon could respond, Ash came back into the room, a pout on her lips as she walked over to her parents. "Hi, Mommy," she smiled, taking Elide's hand with a small smile.

"Hi, Ashy. You okay, baby?" Elide asked, sitting up properly and leaning away from Manon's warmth. Manon dropped her hand from her shoulders, rubbing circles on her back instead and keeping her hand on the round bump where their unborn daughter lived.

Ash nodded, pigtails bobbing as her eyes looked pleadingly up at her mother, "Can I have my pancakes now?"

Manon could hear the clear exhaustion in her wife's laugh as she went to stand, "Of course you can. Let me just—"

"No," Manon stood, holding a hand out for Elide to stay, "Mommy's not feeling very well, Ashy. Is it okay if Mama does them so Mommy can stay in bed and relax?"

Ash dropped Elide's hand, looking at her curiously before nodding and lifting her arms for Manon to pick her up. Manon lifted her happily, resting her on her hip again and pressing a kiss to her cheek, "We can get you your pancakes, Mama will make her and Mommy some breakfast and then we can all have some cuddles and watch a movie. How does that sound?"

Ash nodded with a grin, "And I get my unicorn blankey?"

"Why don't you go get it now and Mommy can put it on the bed ready?" Elide suggested, leant back on both hands as she watched. Before Manon even had chance to turn to her daughter, Ash was tapping her arm, begging to be put down. As soon as her feet met the floor, Ash was speeding off, her pigtails flying behind her as she disappeared.

Manon turned to Elide, a small smirk on her lips, "You didn't have to do that, you know."

She slid her hands into her back pockets, "I think I'm capable of making some breakfast. Besides, you deserve a day off, baby. Now, why don't you get into some comfy clothes while I take care of our little monster."

Chuckling, Elide stood, pushing a kiss to Manon's lips as she slipped a hand against her stomach, following the round curve of their baby. When she pulled away, Elide cupped her hand over Manon's. "Not long now," Manon whispered, resting her forehead against her wife's.

Elide's lips brushed hers again before pulling away completely, "Don't remind me."

Seconds later, Ash came rushing in, blanket in hand, "Here you go, Mommy!"

Reaching out, Elide took the blanket with a smile, hiding the clear pain in her back that Manon noticed as soon as she let out a small gasp, both hands immediately going to her back. "Thanks, bubba," she smiled, watching Ash's face light up as she wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Alright, princess," started Manon, walking toward the doorway, "Why don't we go get some breakfast so Mommy can get changed, okay?"

"Okay! C'mon, Mama," Ash grabbed Manon's hand, dragging her toward the hall. Manon waved goodbye to her wife, savouring Elide's laugh as she was pulled out of sight by their toddler. She loved her little family, her warrior princesses who made her world so incredibly bright. There were hard days, and there were going to be even harder days once Tarin was here. But, in the end, it was worth it.

* * *

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[cherrycheolliesc]

Let Me Hear You Say

part 46: Joshua’s Weeb Closet. (46/50)

red below 👇 (1.5k words)

“You know I can break out of this, right?” you say to Mingyu who is currently holding you down. He just scoffs knowing you can't move anywhere, but entertains you, “I know, it just makes me feel strong”

“You already strong, Gyu. Anyways where is everyone?” Seokmin asks. You look around the room only seeing half of your friends in Seungcheol’s small living room. Seungkwan and Wonwoo are sitting on the couch quietly talking. You wonder how they became friends because you've never seen them talk to each other. You assume Jeonghan and Joshua are probably somewhere making out so they don't have to deal with actually setting up the party. Seungcheol and Jihoon seem to be lecturing Chan about who knows what. Things are finally quieting down when everyone decides to watch the movie that's playing until someone bursts through the doors, “I'm here motherfuckers. The party is finally getting started”

“She drunk, isn't she,” Cheol asks as he points towards the small blonde girl in Mina’s arms. Seoyeon nods as she brings Chaeyoung to one of the rooms in the apartment. When she comes back, everyone turns towards the commotion at the front door. “You can't make me go inside. I'll bite you, you know I will” 

“Soonyoung, if you just go inside, it'll make everything so much easier,” Jun says as he continues to try and push the smaller boy in. Everyone just watches him, Minghao, and Vernon struggle to bring Soonyoung in until Cheol eventually just picks him up and holds him down, “You two are gonna talk like two grown adults or I’m firing Jihoon”

“Woah why am I getting involved in this?” Jihoon asks walking over to the rest of the group. Everyone looks confused before Chan talks, “How can you even fire him?” 

“Yea and with what job exactly,” Soonyoung says causing Cheol to roll his eyes, “Look if guys talk to each other, I'll tell you where I work” 

“One, no one cares. Two, stop lying to yourself, it's okay if you're unemployed. We won't stop loving you just because you don't have a job, Cheollie” you say which only annoys him more. Jihoon confused asks, “Why do you guys really believe he's unemployed? The dude is literally our boss.”

“ ‘Our’ boss?” Seungkwan says, “yes our boss. He's at the building all the time. How did you not know that?”

“To be honest I thought he was just going there to hook up with you, Ji,” Jeonghan says before getting a drink. “Ew, why would I hook up with Cheol? He's like my brother. That would just ruin your friendship.”

“And that is exactly why I’m not admitting my feelings for Y/n!” Soonyoung screams before trying to run away but failing as Cheol is still holding him down. You decide yelling back is the best option, “like I would ever admit my feelings for you.” 

“That’s it! Time out for you two until you can figure out your issues. Bring them to Shua’s weeb closet and don’t let them out until they're cool with each other.” Cheol says before lifting Soonyoung. Mingyu sees the message Cheol sends and brings you to Joshua’s room as well. “Hey hey, why are you taking them to my closet? What if they fuck in there?”

“Then they'll be happy again,” Vernon says with a smile on his face. Shua rolls his eyes before giving in. Eventually, you and Soonyoung are both shoved into the small closet. You try to stay as far as you can from him, putting a blowup titan in between the two of you. To ease the awkwardness after a few minutes of silence, Soonyoung asks, “You think Shua uses this thing as a sex doll?”

“If he does, I regret touching it,” you reply. The boy beside you laughs and says, “If I remember correctly, you and Joshua sleeping together for a whole two years after college, right?” 

“Yeah well, it was kinda weird. Let's just say, you aren't the only furry in our friend group.” This makes him laugh again before finding a place to sit down. You take a seat beside him as he leans his head on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“For what exactly, Soonie?” You ask back wanting a better explanation than just a small sorry. He rolls his eyes before saying, “You already know why. For being immature and not dealing with things like an adult.”

“To be honest, none of us deal with things like adults. We're just the worst. I guess I’m sorry too.” you say back to him. The two sit comfortably in silence just relaxing in each other’s company. Why did we make things so hard for no reason? you wonder. That thought quickly goes away when you remember that the two of you are friends and you never want to ruin that, but your thoughts are interrupted, “I love you, Y/n. But I mean even if it's pretty obvious, I know I'm not very good at showing it.” 

“But we're friends, Soon,” you say back before walking to the other side of the closet. You glance at his face for a second and see a bit of hurt in his eyes. Why am I still hiding how I feel? What’s the point of lying to myself and everyone else? You ask yourself before he breaks your thoughts once again, “Y/n, you say that, but then you're willing to fight with me for months because of the whole situation. Why are we just continuing to do this to each other?” 

“I don't know, Soon. I really don't know,” you reply, overwhelmed, burying your face into your hands. He walks behind you and gives one of his famous, familiar back hugs to comfort you. You relax into the hug as he softly kisses your shoulder, “it's okay, Y/n. You don't need to have an answer right now. It's not wrong to want to take everything at your own pace. I just don't want to feel like I have to constantly avoid you because like you said, you are my best friend.“

“Are you trying to say ‘the power of friendship is so strong’ that we can get through things like this?” you sarcastically say as you laugh and lean into his arms. He giggles and replies, “That's exactly what I’m saying.” The two of you once again sit in silence. You take in everything from the moment you first saw Soonyoung as a small boy eating dirt in the playground to this exact moment You wonder when everything changed, “When did you realize you loved me, Soon?” 

“There isn't an exact moment. I think just over time my love constantly grew for you. I didn't realize it at first and never really wanted to accept it because, well I'm pretty sure it's obvious why,” he responds. You feel the same way. You've always just told yourself it was because of that dance, but you know those feelings have always been there. More importantly, you know you've acted on those feelings before. “Why did you leave me after graduation? After I told you I love you?” 

“Because I was stupid and a coward. I got jealous of Joshua, but then I started to think I wasn't as good as him. I wouldn't be good enough like him. I thought I wouldn't be able to make you happy like he would, ” he says honestly. You don't understand how he could ever think he wasn't good enough. You loved everything about the kid, from his weird tiger obsession to his incredible dance skills. “Soonie, you know I never believed you weren't good enough. And to be honest, Shua wasn't the greatest boyfriend. He was an amazing friend, but there's something off about knowing your boyfriend is denying his feelings for someone else”

“I guess that's how Seoyeon felt. It was just seeing you in the arms of a model like him brought up my insecurities I guess. I thought it would be too hard to compete. So I ran away because I didn't want to deal with the feelings, ” he explains still holding you in his arms. You feel how much bigger his arms got over the years and decide to ask him another question, “When did you start working out? Not that I'm complaining, but the last time Cheol asked you to work out with him you called him a loser and told him there's no reason to work out when you have a cute face.”

“Yes, my face is adorable, but I figured I'd just work out because why not. Also, Ji paid for a year's gym membership in China by accident,” he answers while softly laughing. The two of you continue to talk about random things for the next few hours without anyone interrupting you. You hear soft snoring on the other side of the door. Soonyoung quietly opens the door to not wake the sleeping person on the other side. You walk out to see Seungcheol and Wonwoo fast asleep on each other and quickly take a photo before sneaking away. You and Soonyoung decide to leave through the window to avoid questions or stares from anyone else. For the rest of the night, the two of you wonder who knows where and finally you feel happy to be with your best friend for once.

previous / masterlist / next

↣ summary: after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted dream turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung.

↣ pairing: reader x soonyoung.

↣ genre: angst, comedy, youtube au, sm au. friends to enemies to lovers.

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a/n- tbh i don’t really know how i feel abt this chapter. but also i don’t really see myself as a good writer when it comes to like written things like this but i really want to get better because i want to open requests soon when i get the time.

[phoebe-delia]

Do you have a top 10 list of songs you love?

Wow, I love this question! Thank you so much, I sure do!

This will be a list containing a variety of songs; there will be some Taylor, but I will pull from other genres (including musicals!) and I'll include links if anyone wants to listen. I'll also include a little explanation as to why I love the song, because I'm just that self-indulgent thorough.

Without further ado, Phoebe's Top 10 Songs! (in no particular order)

1. "All Too Well" by Taylor Swift (let's start off obvious, right? I love this song, the bridge is incredible, I wrote a ficlet for Drarry about it, etc.)

2. "She Used To Be Mine" from Waitress (the musical) (despite being from a musical, I guarantee that anyone who listens to this can relate to it and enjoy it. If you've ever felt yourself longing for a past, happier version of yourself, or just feeling melancholy in general, listen to this. The musical is written by Sara Bareilles, so it's got a touch of normal/pop music.)

3. "Therapy" by All Time Low (okay this list is getting angsty as hell, but I can't not include this song. It's so well written and relatable; just beautiful. It'll make you want to lie in bed forever, but it hurts so good.)

4. "Don't Rain On My Parade" from Funny Girl (and now for something completely different. I almost put the Glee version (yes, sung by Rachel. I loved her as a kid, okay?) on here, just because that version is so personal to me, but I'd be doing Barbra a disservice if I didn't hype up her original version. It's a total classic and it's bound to cheer you up after listening to the first three total downers lol).

5. "Dust and Ashes" from Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812. (if you want a song that'll make you look out the window and ponder the meaning of love and life, this is the song for you. I don't care if you don't like musicals. This song--the entire show, really--is utter perfection. I cannot express to you enough how...sublime this song is. Do yourself a favor and listen to this song, then listen to the whole musical, then DM me so we can yell about it together. Okay? Okay.)

6. "Goodbye Earl" by The Chicks (look, yall, I like country music, okay? but I like the good stuff--which is usually songs about women killing evil men. It's fun! I linked the music video so you can enjoy the perfection that it is. Also, you cannot tell me this song isn't sapphic; like it's sooo wlw and gay it's great. )

7. "I Won't" by Little Mix (everyone needs a good hype-up song, and Little Mix has some of the best. They've done so many great ones, but this one speaks to me a lot. I often use it as an alarm when I wake up because it's a great message to hear in the morning.)

8. "it's time to go" by Taylor Swift (this song is a little bonus track off of evermore. It's pretty underrated and overlooked, which I understand, but it means too much to me personally to leave it off of this list. it feels like Taylor reached into my brain and wrote the song I needed to hear.)

9. "Holy Ground" by Taylor Swift (tbh, I don't have a real, deep reason as to why this is on my list, I just flat out like it. It's catchy and puts me in a great mood; it's fun and I vibe with it every time I listen to it.)

10. "On My Own" from Les Miserables (I cannot, in good faith, present to you a list of my favorite songs without this one. This song walked so "I'm Not That Girl" (from Wicked) and "Teardrops On My Guitar" (Taylor Swift) and every other pining ballad could run. The number of times I wistfully walked around my bedroom and bathroom singing this about my middle school crush who never liked me back...is far too high. I have linked the Lea Salonga version, as is only appropriate.)

And that's it! Thank you so much for this lovely question. I had so much fun with it.

Please send in your asks! My pinned post has some questions for inspiration if you want ideas. <3

[letswrites]

Malibu- C.H

Malibu

Ashton, Calum, Luke, and Michael were dropped on Calum's couch staring at the ceiling. Beer cans all over the carpet, letting some remaining liquid drip from it and make stains on the grey soft fabric, where his socked feet were resting He didn't give a shit about it. They were pretty legless (*for those that don't know: legless is the same as veeeery wasted for us Aussie! :D), and he had bigger problems than some beer puddles over his apartment. Calum grabbed his phone and texted the first person on his dm. she. She had become the first person in everything lately

[2 pm]

Calum: 'wanna hang?'

She replied in seconds

'omw ;)'

He smiled and blocked his phone again letting his head drops on the couch's back. "I am fucking starving." Luke started to complain "yeah, me too. Hey, Cal" he let a groan that should be a "what?" to Michael "can you text your girlfriend and ask her to bring some food?" how the fuck he knew he had texted her. It might be the stupid smile across his stupid face. "she isn't my girlfriend" but he texted her the same way, she gently answered 'like pickles in your burger?' he smiled 'throw away the damn pickles' and let his head rests on the couch's back again and closed his eyes "she will stop at Maccas" "she's fucking awesome" "my best friend" Luke bragged "she should be your girlfriend, Cal" "not your business, Ash..." "Ouch! Easy, man, just saying" he swallowed a "fuck you" and just answered with silence. she should be his girlfriend, but he wasn't sure about what they were. When he heard the knock on the door his heart almost skipped the beats and he stood up faster than he wanted to "and he said that doesn't want anything serious" Ash teased "you like to tease, huh?" "you have no idea" "fuck me, Irwin" "I wish, but she'd be jealous" Calum showed to Ashton his middle finger and they laughed before he opened the door at the same moment she will knock again "hey" "'sup, Cal?" she stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips, he grinned "come in" "thanks" she walked to Calum's living room and dropped her tired body on the couch, the college will kill her anytime. And soon. But she was there still "hey, boys!" "Hey!" they answered together "I bought some burgers" in the second after she put the bag over the coffee table Michael sat up and grabbed it like he did not eat for days and started to distribute between the other two dead bodies lying next to him. Calum sat down at her side pulling her closer to him and resting one hand on her waist and his head on her shoulder, her hands moving to his hair and caressing it smoothly. "'re you okay?" Luke asked his best friend "I'm good. Just tired" "studying lots?" "more than I can handle" the exams will come soon and the professors have no mercy with the students "they keep dropping mountains and mountains of knowledge in our heads" "you should rest a little" "yeah" "for your luck you have the best friend in the world" "what you have in mind?" "The question is 'what I have in my pocket?'" Luke took off his black, skinny jeans pocket a key. A key. she knew that key "Fucking Lord, what happened to your grandma?" "She is in Italy and the house is in my care" "lucky bastard" "I think we should spend the weekend there. What do you think?" "God, yes!" "What Thelma and Louise are talking about?" "grandma's Malibu house" "I'm in" "me too" "I don't remember to invite you two" "we clearly don't care" he chuckled "what about you, Cal?" "Yeah, it will be nice" he answered uninterested "wow, Calum how you are zippy today" "fuck yourself" Ashton laughed "you are too down today, eat something will make your mood get better" "'m not hungry" "what?! I practically had to beg for the McDonald's guy for a no-pickles burger" "sorry…" "what happened to you?" "Pms" they laughed "I swear to God I'll punch your face Ashton!" she twisted her body turned to his side to give him all her attention he grinned with her act and squeezed her waist "nothing to you worry about" "are you sure?" "yes" he whispered and kissed her quickly on the lips before get up and walk towards the bathroom. Michael groaned in pleasure when he finished his burger "I was starving! Thank you. Luke, hug her for me, I am too far" "it was nothing" Luke wrapped his long arms around her, she snuggled and hummed with the comfort "do you want us to pay you back?" "oh, don't need to, like to take care of you guys" "I have the best friend in the world" "me?" Calum asked when came back to his living room, already feeling jealous. He knew that she was Luke's friend for more time than he and that was Luke who introduced them, but he couldn't help himself "she" "really? I think 'm way better than her" Calum teased her and received in response a socked

foot on his stomach "you will not hurt anyone with these smurf feet" "oh, fuck you!" he grinned and started making circles on her heel trying to forget how much he loves her small feet while she smiled to he "seriously, Cal if you two don't run away to Vegas and get eloped, I will put you guys on my trunk and force you to do it" she giggled, but he rolled his eyes, dropped her foot on the couch and made his way to the bedroom "I think he is mad with you, Ash" "his lost" he shrugged "Alright beautiful people if we gonna leave for the weekend is better we go pack our shits" "yeah, is better" "where we'll meet?" "her place" "why mine?" "Your car is bigger and comfier. And the only one that the engine turns on at the first attempt" "fine, but you drive" "don't need to ask twice" "okay, see you two later" "at 8" "At 8 will be" "later" "later". Michael slammed the door behind him. "what's wrong with Calum?" she asked "bad mood, I guess. Want me to talk with him?" "no, babe, go pack your stuff and I talk with him" "ok" he untied she, giving a kiss on her forehead "see you later, sweetheart" "see u" Luke stood up and yelled to Calum hears him from the bedroom "I'M LEAVING CAL!" "YOU'RE LEAVING LATE IN MY OPINION!" "OH FUCK YOU!" "TRUST ME, I WILL!" Luke laughed and closed the door behind him. She made her way to Calum's bedroom where she already spent a lot of time in and leaned her shoulder on the doorway "hello" "hi" he was splayed at his bed like a starfish "can I join you?" "sure" he shrank himself to the side so she could jump in his bed like a child going to sleep on their parent's bed, what made he smile and giggle "hello again" "hi again" "are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" "no" "uh, alright" they kept the silence for some seconds while she tried to tangle herself on his arms, but he smiled amused and did not help her "asshole" he laughed "oh, come here your fucking kid" he pulled her that was laid next to him, to lay on his chest and a loud groan left his lips before he answers her "you and Luke" he mumbled "what?" "You asked what was wrong: you and Luke" "are you jealous?" "yes" "he is my best friend. He is your best friend" "I know" "I had been sleeping with you" "know that too" and he knew it well "so what is this about?" he flipped his body to be over her and look inside her eyes "you are amazing, he is amazing and you too know each other so well, are so close. And I'm... just me" "it should be a compliment, right?" "I am talking serious" "me too, but, hey you're lucky that I'm more into jerkasses" she teased what made him smile squeezing his eyes, but he opened it again and he felt her hands cupping his face and she staring at his lips, so he pushed down and kissed her deeply, passionated. Soon her hands were sliding down his whole body stopping on the button of his black, ripped jeans ready to take off of him, but Calum stopped the kiss, swallowed, and laid down at her side again what made her feels confused "uh, you... you should go pack your stuff" "what? pack my stuff?" something was wrong, he never refused sex before 'will he break up with me?' she thought "ok" she put herself up and walked towards the door "hey!" "hum?" "need me to drive you home?" "no, like to walk" "oh, okay" "want to come with me?" he wanted to say 'yes' really, wanted to have sex with her (good and sweaty) let her fall sleep on his arms and wake up late to the trip, forget to put clean underwear on the bag and hear the boys make jokes about the reason that they were late, but... "I will take a shower, you know?" "I have a shower in my place" she raised an eyebrow teasing him again, one last try, but he just kept in silence, she nodded "see you later, Cal" and left his apartment ...he couldn't fall in love with her.

*

They met at her place two hours early than they had agreed, she was taking a shower when heard Michael yelling into her living room. "Don't you regret of gave a key to Luke?" "No, like when he is around. Less when I am studying, you know how noisy he can be." now she was on her couch talking with Ashton while the other three was in the kitchen pretending they were barmen "you have a very nice place" "thanks, my grandparents left to me" "I'm sorry" "Oh, it's okay they are alive. They moved to Indiana" "oh, that's nice" "it is" "who wants margaritas???" Luke walked to the living room caring two glasses of margaritas "thank you, Luke" "cheers!" he drank with his best mate when she gasped "you should not drink you'll drive!" "I can drive" "at least someone is behaving. I will love to punish those who don't obey me" she said naughty and Luke laughed loudly he loved when she made sexual jokes "Ash is embarrassed" Michael appeared in the living room yelling (already drunk) with Calum "who is embarrassed?" "Ash. Look he is blushing!" they all laughed "sorry, Ash" "it's fine... Excuse me" Ash made his way to the kitchen and Calum sat next to her where Ashton was before "hey Calum" "what's up Mike?" "You and her will have to control, you know?" "what you're talking about?" "The noise. Not allowed to be loud" Calum laughed "how many margaritas you drank already?" "The margaritas..." He paused and burped 'gross' he continued "the problem is not the margaritas, but the shots" "well, I think that it will not be a problem, Mike" "you are quite loud, babe" she raised an eyebrow and looked to Calum "well, no sex no noise, and you already have made it very clear to me" she stood up and walked to the kitchen to fill her glass and Luke followed her "wow! Calum Hood, what you did wrong?" Ashton dropped at his side very interested in the chaos "I refused fuck with her earlier" "what?! Why, dude?" Ashton and Michael laughed "have my reasons..." he mumbled and blushed a little "ok, they must be good 'cause, bro she is a hottie one and hotties do not are used to be rejected. So she will, naturally, get mad with you" 'he didn't know about her past' Calum thought "Ash... Just be quiet" "alright. Hey Michael did you watched the video I sent you?" Ashton moved the subject leaving Calum only with his thoughts.

*

"What happened, honey?" "He is acting weird" "yeah..." "He didn't want to have sex, didn't want to walk home with me, didn't let me tease him" "don't have a clue why he is doing this" "he was being paranoiac..." "About what?" "About us" she whispered "hum?" "About us" "about us? But don't exist an 'us'" "I know" "Jesus, man... what are you gonna do?" "Get wasted" Luke chuckled "you always have the best ideas" then filled his glass.

*

Was a little after 8 pm when they left: Ashton driving, Calum at his side and the trio in the back: Michael sleeping at the right, Luke in the middle, and she in the left with her head dropped on Luke's shoulder his arm around her while they count how many trucks they see in the road "how many you already saw?" "Eighteen, I guess" "damn it! I'm losing" "what you guys are doing?" Ashton asked interested in what the friends were doing "We are counting lorries" Calum widened his eyes and look at her "lorries?" "Yes" "wtf are lorries?" "Trucks" "are you British now?" "No, but my last boyfriend was" 'oh, yes. He is British' "I miss him. Do you still hang?" Luke used to hang out with them when he broke up with his girlfriend "Yes, I had lunch with him last week" "send hello when you see him again" "okay" "do you still talk with him" "yes, Ash, we are still friends" "you two truly love each other. I mean after all of that you keep supporting him. It's love" Luke always says too much when he is drunk "I think so" but she was pretty wasted too "why did you break up?" "He discovered he is more into boys, you know..." Ashton looked to Calum already regretting what he said about her earlier "I'm sorry" "yeah, it's alright. He is happy that's what matters" "it's very nice of you..." "Well, he would do the same for me" she said with sadness in her voice and Ashton cleaned his throat "Can I sleep, Luke?" "Yes, sure. Come here" he pulled her to be more comfortable on his chest and she fell asleep, soon he did it too. "I think is only us, bro" "yeah, uh, Cal" "hum?" "Honestly, why are you sat here? Why are you not where Luke is? With her laying in your chest, hands playing in her thighs, teasing each other, kissing?" he licked his lips and swallowed dryly, looked back to certify they were sleeping "I'm afraid" "afraid? Is she spanking you?" Calum blushed "she spanks you?" Ashton laughed "it happened once or twice. Sometimes she is bossy in bed. But anyway is not about it" "So why the hell are you refusing sex?" "I am afraid of fall in love with her" "you? falling in love?" "I am falling for her and faster. But I can't" "wow. Why not? You guys are great together" "she isn't mine. And I'm afraid to ask her to be" "you can't live with fear, bro" "yeah…" "honestly, she is awesome and if you don't risk yourself, someone will and you will lose her" "I know" "just keep it in your mind" "I will. Thanks, Ash" "no problems, mate. I should have a talk show" "hell yeah, you totally should" they kept talking about the imaginary Ashton's talk show for the rest of the trip.

*

Was at least midnight when she put on a bikini and jumped on the swimming pool, the boys were making some midnight barbecue, now all drunk, listening to some classic rock, and getting high again. "Beautiful..." "hey" "can we talk?" "Yes! hum, actually I was thinking about the same thing" she was soberer now "good" he dived into the pool and stand next to her "I am sorry about what I said earlier. Sex isn't everything and you're not obligated to do if you're not in the mood. It's just so great that I can't help myself…" she started and he looked into her eyes calmly, taking her hands in his own, she was despaired for an answer and let he knew with her gaze, but he just stepped closer guiding her hands and arms to involve his body, resting his chin on the top of her head and whispered "I want you to be mine" "I will love to be yours" she whispered back and he grinned "sex it's actually really great, isn't it?" "more than it usually is" "so, are you saying that I'm pretty good in bed?" she laughed "you satisfy me, more than the other boys I had slept with" "is it includes Luke?" she smiled "well, I don't remember a lot, but I think so" he grinned at her. Luke and she had already banged a few years ago at some random party, both wasted. Calum knew that and didn't care 'old shit' he thought.

"HEY, LUKE!" "WHAAAATTT?" "SHE SAID SEX WITH ME IS BETTER THAN WITH YOU!" she blushed "Calum!" "damn it!" Luke mumbled more to himself "HEY, CAL!" "HUM?" "SUCK ME!" "I WISH TO, BUT I WILL BE BUSY DOING SOMETHING THAT YOU DIDN'T WHEN HAD THE CHANCE!" Luke laughed out loud and showed to Calum a middle finger. He actually made his bestie come over and over, at the point she thought he had a magic wand instead of a penis, but Calum didn't need to know. Luke winked at her before put his focus on the grill again, she nodded in thanks "did you guys stopped to talk about my orgasms?" "yes, babe" he pulled her legs to his waist and cupped her bum and kissed her, a calm and delicious kiss "want to go to the bedroom and let me put in practice what we were talking about?" "Do you really want to?" "More than you can imagine" "'re you sure?" he whispered at her ear "my handjobs are not like yours" he teased what made her get off his arms and went out of the pool. She pulled his wrist indicating to him to made his way out of the pool to follow her "good night boys" "good night!" Calum smiled at them that was making obscene gestures "yes, we are going to bang and you are not!" she laughed what made the boys stop and focus on another thing. Already in the bedroom Calum was laying in the bed where she said to he waits, she came out of the bathroom and she climbed the mattress to stay at his top "hey, gorgeous" "Cal, if you have to hand job yourself earlier, why you suggested me to leave?" "I was avoiding sex" "why?" "I was avoiding have great moments with you." "Because...?" "I was afraid of fall for you. Don't know about your feelings for me and I am afraid to discover" "I like you a lot" "do you?" "I really do. Wished that you asked me to be yours before" he smiled "I wanted too" "fear makes us do things that we don't want to" "yes" "hope you're not afraid of making me cum" she teased and he squeezed her hips, she kissed he and untied her bikini top "I lie. Don't like you a lots" he widened his eyes "I love you" "love me?" "Yeah. Love everything on you." "It doesn't mean that you love me" "it does" she kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips that tasted like beer "love everything single piece of you. If you puzzle it all together it's you" he smiled "how can you love me?" "ask myself the same every day" he giggled and kissed her again, this time teasing.

She untied the bikini bottom letting him feels how wet she was "fuck" "yes, fuck" they kissed again and again, hot and despaired for each other, he stopped the kiss and she looked at him confused "I'm waiting for an answer" she rolled her eyes but answered he the same way "love you because it's you" he smiled and for the first time let himself fall for her "love you too" he mumbled and she continued the kiss before he took off his swimming short and gave to her want she wanted, what they wanted, 'cause now was not she, was not he, but they.

[devilatmydoor]

i don’t love you like i did I [c.t.h]

a/n; hello all! i was listening to moral of the story by ashe and i started listening to my emo playlist and i got the idea for this fic! it was truly a labor of love, once i finished i cried because it broke my heart. let me know what you think - if i should write a part 2 or not- in the tags, dm’s or my ask! 

masterlist

calum // female reader

word count; 2.4k+

warning- ANGST & smut

8 months.

8 months of crying yourself to sleep, puffy eyes in the morning, restless nights, and never ending days.

8 months.

Your marriage barely made it a year and 8 months later you barely could get out of bed without immediately thinking of him. His dog running up to you in the morning, the smell of coffee filling up the house and his contagious smile.

Now Your mornings consist of you forcing yourself out of bed when you need to eat, taking medication for the constant migraines from crying hours on end.

You knew it wasn’t going to be easy moving out of the place you've called home for over 2 years, but you didn’t think it would be this hard. Moving everything out of his house was difficult enough but moving in with your friend until you got yourself on your feet wasn't much of a difference.

Your thoughts consumed the last conversation, last 'happy' moment, and the last time he made you feel like you were on top of the world. You hitting rock bottom due to the same man seemed surreal. Your world flipped upside down when it all clicked. Lonely nights without him, pointless arguments & false ideas of happiness. You told yourself you were the happiest you've been in years, your whole life even; but you were miserable.

One blissful night escaping to Vegas with your closest friends to elope to the 'love of your life's led to this. You running into him at a coffee shop and him nervously asking for your number led to all of this.

Romantic dates with wine and flowers, flights to see him when he was on tour. Him returning as if he hadn't been gone for months at a time brought to you both tangled in his sheets, bruises on your hips paired with scratches on his back as your moans echoed on the walls. Every time you connected it was better each time, it didn’t matter if it was passionate or rough. 

8 months since you had heard his deep voice, seen his brown eyes, and felt like the world stopped for both of you. You knew this day would come but you wanted to avoid it as much as possible. Your signature indented on the papers as you sent them to his house, once your shared home. You knew he would put up a fight- you knew he'd refuse to sign the papers. He fought more refusing the divorce than your actual marriage.

It's not that you wanted it to end the way it was heading but there was no option. There wasn’t any time for couples therapy with his schedule, you were tired of feeling alone in a glasshouse. Your expressions painted on your face whenever asked about your husband, soon to be ex-Husband if he'd sign the damn papers.

You took a deep breath as you stood in front of the door. You wanted to go back home but something needed to be done.

Your hand balled into a fist as you knocked on the door three times. You stood away from the door as it slowly swung open.

The man in front of you resembled fragments of your husband; same brown eyes and nose. He shaved his head but he neglected to shave his face, he reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. You were utterly unprepared for the look in his face as your eyes met his.

You crossed your arms determined to stand your ground, "Hi".

"We haven’t spoken in almost a year, you send me signed divorce papers after moving your belongings when I'm at the studio without a warning and all you have to say is hi?" He barked as his voice sounded gravelly.

He wasn’t completely wrong, you told him the night before you were leaving after spending the night on the couch. You knew it would be easier to pack everything in one go knowing he'd fight you and make you stay.

"Calum don’t do this."

"Oh, I'm not allowed to be upset about you giving up on our marriage?"

"You gave up on us. You stopped fighting for us the minute we got married." You spat

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it."

"No, it isn’t! You figured if we were married you could spend 3 nights out of the week getting drunk with your friends. Our romantic dates turned into Netflix & Chill. You stopped caring about us."

"I never stopped loving you."

His words cut like knives to your heart, causing more damage that you didn’t need after the last 8 months you’ve experienced without him. “You stopped showing me you loved me. Calum, I'm not here to argue."

"Then why are you here?" He asked harshly as he crossed his arms.

"To get the divorce papers. It's been over 6 months."

"You can have them." He grunted as he stepped out of the doorway.

You stepped into the messy house, everything you loved about it was gone. House plants and framed artwork was nonexistent. He led you into the messy house as he walked into the living room. He walked to the coffee table, leaning over to grab the papers, as he stood up straight his eyes met yours. You sighed as he handed them to you, you quickly looked over them to see they looked the same. Not a single signature of his was added, you weren’t even surprised. You set them on top of the record player before he stepped closer to you. You stepped closer to him, smelling his cigarette smoke and cologne that you missed.

“Sign them, please.”

He stepped closer to you making the space between the two of you nonexistent, “No.” He cupped your face with his hands before slowly leaning forward as his lips met yours in a heart-racing passionate kiss. You pressed your body against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His tongue slipped into your mouth as you fought for dominance, no surprise he won as his lips were firm on yours. Months without his lips on yours and it felt as if 8 months hadn’t gone by, his lips were soft and plump just as you remembered. His body heat radiated off of him as his body was pressed against yours.

His hands quickly moved to your hips as his fingertips dug into the skin as he picked you up wrapping your legs around his waist, your lips never parting as he pushed you against the familiar walls to deepen the kiss. As you reach his bedroom, your past shared room, he slowly laid you down on the bed as you both fully intertwined, hands roaming over bodies to regain the loss of intimacy.

You slowly pull away softly sucking on his bottom lip before nipping at it playfully as a loud groan escapes his lips. His lips quickly found a home in your neck as he easily remembers where your sweet spot is. His lips softly suck on it while his hands toy with the hem of your leggings as he kisses the soft hickey. Heat rushed over every inch of your body as his gaze was lustful and needy. His lips attached to yours in a feverish kiss, your hands roaming up his t-shirt as goosebumps covered his skin.  

His lips quickly pulled away as he got rid of his shirt, he reconnected your lips as his tongue slid into your mouth. You moan against his lips as the kiss breaks when he tugs on the hem of your shirt slowly lifting it up as your nipples harden while cold air surrounds you. His warm hands roamed your sides as he cupped your breasts, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

His thumb grazed over the sensitive bud as you gasped in response, your legs tighten around him in excitement. He quickly took off your pants with your panties as you felt him harden as you ran your fingertips over the outline of his cock. He threw his head back as he bit his bottom lip. He leans down to softly lick one nipple as his thumb rubs the other hard bud. His teeth graze your nipple, his warm tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. Your hips grinding against him to receive the friction you craved causing him to groan.

“I need you Cal.” Your old nickname for him rolled off your tongue like you hadn’t used it in 8 months.

He swiftly takes off his sweats and boxers in one motion as his hard cock springs free, hard against his stomach as precum dripped from the tip. Your hand attaches to his cock, obscene noises escape from his mouth as he watches you. You feel his cock hardening in your hand as his hand prys yours off of him as he lines himself up before thrusting into you as you adjust to him comfortably. He grunts deeply as he thrusts deep inside of you as his hips smack into yours, your loud moans fill the room. His arms tight around you as he holds you perfectly, 8 months flew by within seconds as you were skin to skin.

Each thrust he’s deeper inside of you, he hits your g-spot and you feel your stomach tighten. He leaves soft kisses along your neck as he holds your waist. For the first time in months you feel full and happy, not wanting your high to rush through you. You hadn’t realized how much you truly missed him until he was deep inside of you moaning your name. His arm snaked around your waist as his thumb rubs your clit, “Fuck!” He continues as his thrusts match the pace of his fingertip rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. .

Your stomach tightened as your walls clenched around him and he groaned as he thrusted harder, “C’mon baby, cum for me.”

Hearing him call you baby immediately caused your high bolt through you, white bursts behind your eyes as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as he came inside of you as a deep moan left his lips. His arms tight as he holds you close as his movements slow when he grunts before sliding out of you. You moan from the loss of him too soon, he moves from his bed before putting his boxers on and walking down the hallway.

He returned with a damp washcloth as he washed you off gently while flashing a small smile. He set the washcloth on his nightstand as he laid on the bed next to you, his fingertips running up and down your spine. The lump in your throat became more apparent as he looked in your eyes.

“We should probably talk about what just…” He trailed off.

“Happened? Yeah..”

Feelings of self doubt rushed through you as you felt self conscious laying naked next to him, you wondered where your clothes were discarded. Reality slowly setting in as you realized what happened between the two of you, your pending divorce wasn’t going to change because of what just transpired between the two of you and you knew that. But did he?

His silence made your body tense as your attempt to move away from him as he held onto you tighter, “I don’t regret anything,” He started off as his thumb held your chin but you refused to look in his eyes, “I don’t regret anything between us, I know I could’ve been better. I know I could’ve tried harder to do things with you, I was scared. I know that isn’t an excuse but I can’t promise I’d change. You deserve better than me.”

Your eyes met his as his eyes looked glossy, “You will always hold a special place in my heart. My first everything. I never stopped loving you, I’m not sure I know how to. I don’t think I ever will..”

“I know for a fact I will never stop loving you. You deserve someone who will fight for you like I never did. I’ll always regret not fighting for you.” He pleaded as he sat up.

“I’ll always regret not telling you sooner. I’m sorry.” You said before climbing off of his bed that was once the both of yours as you scanned the room for your discarded clothes. You quickly dressed as he got off of his bed and put his t-shirt back on. You started walking towards his door as his hand rested on the small of your back as he led you out of his room one last time.

He stepped away from you as he grabbed the divorce papers reaching for a pen as he signed where it was needed, “I should’ve treated you better, I know that. I should’ve signed these sooner. I didn’t want to accept it was over.”

“I know, as much as I love you, I have to let you go and walk away from this part of my life. As much as I want to be positive and try one last time, I know it will be the same. You said so yourself you can’t promise you will change your behavior.” You gulped the lump in your throat as he finished signing.

His warm eyes met yours, “I can’t put you through that again, as much as I want to. I have to let you go, even though it hurts like hell.”

You fiddled with the engagement ring and wedding band on your ring finger, the engagement ring had been there for almost 2 years and the wedding band for under a year. You could feel your heart slowly drop to your stomach, air bursting out of your lungs as you took off the rings that you adorned for so long. You set them on the counter as you looked in his eyes. Tears were forming in your eyes as you reached for the papers you anxiously waited to be completed months ago,

“I’m sorry Calum, I love you. I hope you find peace and I wish you nothing but the best.” You managed to blurt out as you walked towards the door before he could even reply. You couldn’t stand to hear what he had to say knowing it would break your heart more than it already had.

You unlocked your car as you put the papers in an envelope as you sat in your seat, holding on to the steering wheel- white knuckles tight as you held on as tears ran down your cheeks. The mixture of warmth and the salt hitting your skin brought you back to 8 months ago when you left.

This time was different, you had no desire to ever return.

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