#i don't know if i even know how this works anymore

[phoenix-art-official]

Inspired by i could imagine the end of the world and nothing else by cottonmouthcandy on Ao3 (link in reblogs)

“Couldn’t talk for a month after I got out of that goddamned city. Just clammed up. Started sweatin’ like I was hunted every time I opened my mouth.”

What if there was no hang fire?

"WHO IS IT? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?!" 

Stan looks surprised, then his face falls. He waves. 

"... Stanley? Is that you?" Ford grabs him and shines a light in his eyes. 

Stan winces and tries to shove Ford off of him. 

"Apologies, I just had to make sure you weren't... nevermind. Come in, come in." 

Stan follows Ford into the shack, looking around judgementally as Ford paces. 

"Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?" 

Bemused, Stan shakes his head. 

"Good, good. I appreciate you coming so quickly. There's not much time. I've made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore." He turns the head of a skeleton to look away. Stan raises an eyebrow, perturbed. 

Stan steps forward to place a hand on Ford's shoulder, and his jaw works as he wants to say something... but even now, the words stay caught in his throat. Instead he just squeezes in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. 

Ford sighs. "Right, I... I should explain myself. Follow me. What I'm about to show you is... something you can't even imagine." 

Stan nods and gestures for Ford to lead on. 

They make their way downstairs. Ford is too caught up in his own head to notice how silent Stan is being. 

When they get to the portal, Stan is actually speechless. Ford takes this as his sign to begin a monologue. 

You and I both know how this next part goes, so I'll do you a favor and skip to the good part. The part where Ford tells him to sail away.

Stan's face falls, then turns angry. He wants to shout, to scream, but he still can't seem to get even a frustrated grunt past his lips. Instead, he just shoves the journal back at Ford. 

"What the- Stanley! Be reasonable! All I'm asking for is one single favor! I haven't asked you for anything in over ten years, the least you can do for me is make sure the world doesn't come to ruin!" 

Stan just shakes his head. In his fury, a single syllable forces its way out of him. 

"You-!"

And just like that, his jaw clamps down again. His hand finds its way to cover his mouth. He can't do it. No matter how angry and hurt he is, he's still too terrified. Too broken.

Ford doesn't catch Stan's inner turmoil. "I what? Go on then! What's the first thing you have to say to me in over a decade? After everything you did, after you ruined my life, what could you possibly have left to say to me?" 

Stan has so much to say. Too much. So much that he can't even make his voice work, just like he hasn't in over a year. It hurts too much. 

Ford waits, and when Stan doesn't say anything, scoffs bitterly. "Right. Of course not. That's what I thought. More the fool I was for thinking I still had one person left in the world I could trust." 

Stan stops at that. It hurts more than words can say. 

Ford turns back, a new pleading look in his eye. "If you truly won't help me, I... Stanley, I don't have any idea what I'll do. We have our resentments, but this is bigger than that. Bigger than either of us. This could destroy reality as we know it. I don't expect you to understand it, but I at least want you to..." 

Ford sighs again, rubbing his eyes furiously. He looks so tired. "Of course, I shouldn't have bothered. None of this means anything to you, does it? It never has. You only ever saw me as your ticket to success. That's why you still have nothing to say to me." His voice grows hardened, resentful. "You've always been a coward and a liar. I can't believe I was so desperate as to reach out to you. No matter how dire the circumstances, I should've known I could never trust-" 

Stan's fist connects with Ford's jaw. He folds like a house of cards. He struggles upright, surprised at Stan's seething expression. 

Stan breathes heavily. He's shaking. His jaw works, but he still can't make himself speak. Ford waits for him to say something, anything. 

Stan opens his mouth to speak, and he almost manages- an odd, squeaky, hoarse noise comes out of his throat. But that's all. So he just turns around and walks away. 

Ford watches him go, heart sinking into his stomach. He looks at the journal in his hands and wonders what he's going to do now. 

"Wait-" 

Stan stops dead. He didn't expect that. He turns back. 

Ford doesn't know how to ask this, but he has to. "... If you're leaving, just- at least take this with you." He holds out the journal. "I can't keep it. I- I can't be trusted with it. It's not safe here, not with me, not with anyone else." 

Stan actually considers it now. Ford seems so terrified and desperate. But is this really all Stan is good for? 

Ford swallows his pride just a little more. "... Please?" 

Stan is shocked. Neither of them ever say please. Pa always said that was for sissies- real men take what they want. And yet, here they are, and Ford is asking. 

It hurts to know this is all Stan means to him, but he can't find it in himself to say no. 

Stan takes the journal. 

Ford heaves a sigh of relief so potent he nearly topples over. "Thank you." 

Stan just nods. He doesn't know if he feels like leaving now, though. Ford seems fragile. It worries him. 

Ford doesn't catch it. "... Well. I suppose that's it then. You're... free to go." 

Stan just keeps staring at him. He looks awful. It's much harder to leave now that the anger has faded a bit. 

"... What?" 

Stan isn't sure what. He gestures with one hand at Ford. 

Ford just blinks. Utterly bemused. "I... um..." 

Stan rolls his eyes and repeats the gesture more emphatically. 

"... I don't... what are you doing?" 

Stan sighs and looks around. Luckily, he spies what he needs on a nearby desk. Ford watches, dumbstruck, as Stan retrieves a pen and notepad. Then when Stan is finished scribbling, the note is shoved in his face. 

You gonna be okay?

"... I... Stanley, what's going on?" 

Stan shakes the note. 

"Yes, I read it, I just- why are you- I don't understand-" Ford's breath catches. His eyes go wide and he lowers his voice. "Are we being listened to?" 

Stan's shoulders slump. He shakes his head and writes something else. 

Pretty sure I wasn't followed.

"Then- then what? Why are you..." It's Ford's turn to gesture vaguely at his twin. "This?"

Ouch. Ford probably didn't mean it that way, but still. 

Stan chews on the inside of his cheek. He doesn't want to reveal how broken he is now, but Ford just isn't getting it. He can't bring himself to look at Ford when he hands over the next note. 

Can't talk.

Ford stares at the message. It doesn't compute. "... I don't..." He tries to meet Stan's eyes. His gaze is avoided. "Why not?" 

Stan hesitates before writing again. 

Just can't.

"No, clearly you can. Or at least to a degree." Ford's eyes flicker over Stan's body. "Your mouth and layrnx still seem functional... No one is listening to us... Are you cursed somehow?" 

Stan almost laughs, except it's been even longer since he did that than it has since he's spoken. 

Something like that.

Ford's brow furrows. "That isn't an answer. Why can't you speak?" 

Stan underlines his earlier message. Just can't.

"No, you can," Ford insists. "You always could for as long as I can remember. It was harder to get you to shut up sometimes. Why have you decided to stop now? Is this a recent development?" 

Stan really wants to walk away now. But he knows Ford will just follow him. Not that recent. Didn't decide. Just can't. He underlines the last word several times. 

Ford looks even more frustrated when he reads that. "If if isn't voluntary, how is it that you're still capable of speech, in the mechanical sense? Is it... neurological somehow? What was it that F mentioned..." He rubs his eyes again, even rougher than before. Before Stan can write anything else, he snaps his fingers. "Expressive aphasia! It can be caused by a traumatic brain injury. You appear otherwise unaffected though. Have you experienced any extreme head trauma?" 

Stan shakes his head incredulously. Well, he's been clobbered a few times, but he always ended up fine afterwards. No stupider than he was before. 

"Are you sure? Because I can't think of anything else that would..." Ford slowly starts to piece something together. He looks cautiously at Stan. "Except..." 

Stan shifts uncomfortably. He shrugs, as if to say, What?

Ford just stares at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He swallows. "It's just that... the only other cause I can think of is psychological trauma." 

Stan snorts. He can't help it. He shrugs in a, well, what can you do? gesture. 

Ford looks horrified, the drama queen. "... Really?" 

Stan rolls his eyes, then gestures to himself. I mean, look at me. Then he gestures at Ford. You don't look too good yourself.

"I- no, I'm fine," Ford defends in a very-not-fine tone of voice. "And you- you're supposed to be... that doesn't make sense. None if this makes sense..." He rubs at his face almost violently, skewing his glasses. "Stupid brain, just work for a minute here..." 

On instinct, Stan steps forward to take his hands and stop him. Ford flinches back. They stare at each other for a moment. 

Stan raises an eyebrow. Fine, huh?

Ford sighs. "That... it's been some time since I've slept and I'm a little jumpy. Like I said, I've made... terrible mistakes." He shudders. 

Stan looks at him with new understanding. He crosses his arms and gestures for Ford to continue. 

He frowns darkly. "There is a being of unimaginable power that seeks to use me to bring about the end of the world." 

Stan doesn't even blink. Just waits for him to keep talking. 

He does. "He takes over my body when I sleep. I've been able to hold him off so far, but only barely. If he gets his hands on my journals, is able to activate the portal..." He puts his hands on Stan's shoulders. "Stanley, it would be the end of the world." 

Stan raises an eyebrow. Another note: He?

"Bi-" and this time it's Ford who clams up. He shakes his head. "It- it's not safe to invoke his name. What's important is that he is an entity with infinite knowledge and access to my mind and body at any time." His eyes are wide, afraid. "I was a fool to ever trust him." 

Stan softens. He understands that, at least. He writes: You got conned.

Ford considers that and nods gravely. "I suppose I did." Uncharacteristic shame colors him. "Hook, line, and sinker, as it were." 

Stan studies him for a moment. Then, determined, he writes: He gonna hurt you?

Ford is stunned at that, a little vulnerable. "That- that's not important." 

Stan shakes his head emphatically. Points at the note. 

"Probably, yes, but again, that's not-" 

Stan lifts a hand to stop him. Miraculously, he does. Stan thinks for a second, then writes: Not leaving.

Ford's face falls. "What? No, you can't stay here, I just told you-" 

While Ford was speaking, Stan finished another note, and he shoves it in Ford's face. 

You're my brother. And below it, pressed so hard into the paper it almost tears, Not leaving you.

Ford can only stare at the words. "But..." 

Stan cuts him off with another wave of his hand. This time he writes for much longer. Ford waits. 

You look half dead. Don't wanna lose you. Don't care if you don't wanna see me. You. Need. Help.

Ford can't think of anything to say to that. For once, all he can think is that maybe Stan is right. 

So, eventually, tentatively, shakily, he nods. "Okay," he croaks. "Okay. What do we do?" 

Stan offers a smile. Then he wrinkles his nose. Shower first. You stink.

Ford mirrors him. "Well, you don't exactly smell pleasant either." 

Tooshay. Upstairs?

"Not how it's spelled," Ford mutters. Still, he considers the words for a moment. Looks back. Looks at the journal in Stan's hands, then behind him at the elevator. 

"... Alright."

[seungcheorry]

Ot13 reaction on how many kids SVT would have?

how many kids svt would have:

seungcheol probably wants to have two at least. i can picture him having a baby girl and then getting too excited once his partner is free from the whole post partum thing and getting them pregnant again right afterwards. he would really wish for a baby boy then.

jeonghan would love to have two as well, and i can see him having twins - i don't know why, something in him just screams FATHER OF TWINS to me. probably two girls? it's a lot of work though, he'll be done with having kids, would probably even do the surgery so he can't have any anymore.

joshua is very similar to seungcheol to me, would probably have a boy and then get too excited and have a girl because his dna is just good like that. the prettiest kids to ever exist actually, and he's so in love with them that it can be quite easy to talk him into having another one after a few years.

junhui screams boy dad to me, so yeah. i can see him having only one child, a really savage boy just like minghao was back in the day? weird but in a good, chomical way. he would be really good friends with his kid, like a partners in crime type of relationship.

soonyoung... oh, soonyoung. he says he wants to have lots and lots of kids because he loves having his house full but after the first one - a baby boy -, he gets so tired that he actually apologizes to his mom. might slip or be talked into having another one (he just wants his kid to have a relationship like the one he has with his sister); would really hope for a girl then, would probably get another boy though.

wonwoo is a definitely a girl dad too. he would really hope for a boy (i don't know why, i just feel like he would) but then it comes a baby girl and he turns into mush for her. such a goner, i can't even begin to describe - she can tell him to stay put for 20 whole minutes while she pretends to make tea and he won't move a muscle, just stay there and watch her because she told him to. would probably just want one.

jihoon is a girl dad and i will die on this hill. he's also a goner for his girl, he's very strict with things but also he doesn't like to be rough to her so he's just, i don't know, the perfect balance? most likely to be the favorite parent and learn about his daughter secrets before his partner because she just trusts him like that. would also just want one.

seokmin would love three - the first one (a boy) is probably planned; the second one (a girl) is probably an expected accident as he doesn't mind having sex without protection even though he knows the risks; the third one (another boy) is probably an unexpected accident that he cries in joy when he sees for the first time. he would definitely tell his partner "i'm so glad we got drunk that night" while seeing his two oldest children ganging up to change the new baby's diaper.

mingyu definitely wants two kids, he loves his sister too much and knows how a sibling relationship can literally save someone. most likely to have two girls, and his partner might ask him if he isn't sad that they didn't have a boy but he's too busy to answer as he's teaching the girls how to make ramyeon :(

minghao already said himself, he's not the one who gets to decide how many kids he and his partner will have, but he wants two - and can be bend into having a third one. i can see him having a boy and then a girl, and if he and his partner decides for another one, then it would be another girl, probably.

seungkwan would have two girls and his dramatic ass would say it's karma because what do you mean he grew up with his older sisters and now he has to take care of yet other two girls who will bicker and gang up on him just like his sisters did? behind that facade though he would love to take care of them and to see them grow together. most emotional dad, for sure.

vernon is a boy dad to me and he would say he only wants one kid but then he sees him growing up on his own and don't get me wrong, the kid is totally fine with it, but vernon can't stop thinking about how sofia changed his life and he would go "yeah, we might need another one" to his partner. makes a whole deal about it when he finds out his second child is gonna be a girl. "REALLY, WHAT ARE THE ODDS?"... but it's not that hard, vernon. i'm glad you're happy though, i know you love your kids.

chan is also a boy dad and he would probably want another kid but once he realizes how much work and effort it takes, he's sticking to just one. if his partner ever wants another one they would have to really talk him into it, might even need to ask seokmin for help, because chan would stand his ground and say no. but honestly? he's a loverboy, at the end he might just say yes and then meet his cute little daughter and be like "oh my god, why didn't we make her sooner?"

[miizuzu]

“What the actual fuck???!?” You shout as items close by were picked up and thrown towards the naked man on your bed.

“Wait!!! Calm down!! Let me explain!!!” Satoru shouts back as he nimbly dodge every item you throw at him, moving closer towards you. 

“Oh no you don't, stay back!!!” You tried to back away when you noticed him inching closer. 

His movements were quick, next thing you know he had you pinned on the ground. His hands on each of your wrists, knees spread on the side of your thighs. You looked him in the eye before both your attention traveled down his naked body, his cock hanging loose, almost touching you. You let out a horrified scream and your knees move up unintentionally in a defence position, accidentally kneeing him right in the balls.

He froze for a second before rolling off of you and curling into a ball, clutching his member in pain. You cringed and whispered a soft “sorry” before trying to get up and run, only to be grabbed by the ankle and falling face first on the ground. 

“Pl-please… let me… explain.” Satoru is still curled on the ground, he has a death grip on your ankle. 

Your fall had cost you to nosebleed and you covered your nose and looked back at him, “F-fine. Cover up, I don't want to see your thing again. I'm going to the bathroom.”

He nods and lets go of your ankle. You ran into the bathroom, tried to stop your nose from bleeding but decided you should call into work first. After cleaning up, you got out of the bathroom with tissue plugged in your nose to stop the bleeding. You see Satoru dressed now, sitting and waiting for you on the couch. 

You crossed your arms and leaned by the wall, “So? What do you have to say?” 

He was about to come over to you and he noticed the tissue in your nose. “Nuh uh uh, stay over there.” You insisted. He sat back down with both his fists on his lap. 

“Sorry about your nose…” 

“Are you going to explain or should I just call the police now?”

“Okay, okay! So, have you heard that 1% of our population has the power to transmog into animals? Well, I'm one of them.” 

“How the hell did you end up in the pet store then???”

“You remember me saying my best friend is the shop owner? I… asked him for a favor.”

“So you're saying, both you and that shady shop owner were in on this? He knew about you and didn't tell me?”

“Well if you say it this way it sounds bad doesn't it.” 

You let out a heavy sigh as you ran your hand to push your hair back. It was true that you know about the 1% of the population with that power but you've never known or seen anyone with it, they usually keep themselves hidden, not wanting to become outcasts. 

Now what? You didn't think you would become a cat owner and now you find out your cat is actually a person?? To make matters worse, it's the one guy you couldn't stand. It finally made sense to you, how he would just hang around you when you were getting prepared for showers. You are now hyper aware of how he had seen you naked a few times while in cat form. Your face flushed red and you didn't want to see him anymore.

“Get out, before I actually call the police.” 

Satoru slowly gets up, looks at you with big blue puppy eyes, begging you to not kick him out.

“Now!!” You shouted and he walked out of your home. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, you felt a headache coming and you flopped onto your bed, only to be reminded of what he was doing before you arrived, you quickly kicked the covers off before settling down to think everything through. 

At the pet store, Satoru was whining to his friend. “You actually thought this plan was fool proof. You're such an idiot. How did I even let you talk me into this?” face palming himself so hard his hand could go through his head.

“Suguru, you're supposed to comfort me and help me think of something to help get her to not stay mad at me!” Satoru pouts as he glares at his best friend.

“If I get sued I swear to God I will ignore you for the rest of my life.” 

“You don't mean that…”

“Try me.” 

Satoru biting on his thumb nail, feeling frustrated trying to think of ways to get you to forgive him. 

“How did you get caught anyways?” 

“Umm… I was… playing with Jr in my human form… while sniffing her panties.”

“On second thought, you are disgusting. Get out of my shop.” 

Suguru kicks Satoru out. Satoru was banging at the locked doors begging to re-enter, when he realized he was being ignored, he left to go home. 

Satoru has a home, a couple of humongous penthouses to be exact. No one could have guessed why he pretended to be a house cat. Satoru is rich enough that he could live 9 life times and it would not even make a dent to his bank. His parents never really cared what he does, only his happiness matters to them. Which could explain why he is so spoiled and thinks he owns everything. 

He went back to one of his penthouses nearby, laid on his bed as you occupied his every thought. He had never told anyone about meeting you before, he thought you would have forgotten about it by now as well. 

The 2 of you had actually met long again, while you were about 6 years old. Satoru had not gotten used to the transmogrification yet at that time, his ears and tail would show while he was in human form. He would get laughed at by the other kids and would panic and run off. That's when you found him, hiding and crying in a bush, his tail was wagging, knocking the bush which caught your attention. 

“Whatcha doing here?” Satoru jumped at your question, he wasn't expecting anyone to find him.

“Nothing, go away.”

“Are you crying?”

“Do you not understand? I told you to go away.”

“Why are you crying? Don't cry, let's play together!” 

Satoru was shocked, none of the other kids wanted to be near him when his ears and tail were showing, they all seemed to be afraid of him. He stares at your innocent smiling face as you reach your hand out for him. 

“Aren't you… scared of me?”

“Why should I be? Your ears and tail look so cute, I love cats. I wish I could have one but my parents said no. Why don't you be my friend? You could be my cat in secret!!”

The little you thought it was the best idea ever, as you gently pet his head to calm him down. Satoru snuggle close to you, feeling your warmth and happy that he found someone who sees him as him.

The 2 of you had a secret hideout, away from the other kids. You would ask him to show you his ears and tail, and he learned to control the transmogrification just to make you happy. Sometimes he would transform himself into a cat and let you pet him to your heart's content. Sometimes he would stay in his human form and just hold hands with you as you look at clouds in the sky. 

Satoru thought the days would be like this for the rest of his life, but one day you showed up with tears in your eyes. 

“Mama said we have to move, she said papa doesn't want us anymore.”

“Where are you going to move? When??” 

Satoru doesn't want you to leave. He wants to be with you.

“I don't know where we are going, Toko? I'm not sure, but we are leaving by train tonight. I'm here to say goodbye.”

“No!! Please don't leave!! You're my only friend!! I'll be your cat! Stay!!”

It wasn't something he could decide, you gave him one final hug before leaving. Satoru was feeling down for the longest time, his parents did everything they could to try and cheer him up but nothing would work. He asked his parents where Toko was, and they were just confused. 

Growing up, he made one other friend, Suguru Geto. He told Suguru about his secret but he would never show anyone his cat form, he promised himself that form is only for you. He swore he would find you and become your cat. When he turned 20, he moved to Tokyo with Suguru, still keeping you in mind. 

Suguru worked at an animal shelter and Satoru would go and visit him whenever he got bored. He never would have thought he would run into you again. 

You were rushing into the animal shelter with a kitten in your arms, you found it shivering under a tree and decided to bring it to the shelter. 

Satoru was so happy to see you that he went straight to you and started talking, but for some reason you didn't acknowledge him, almost as if you didn't remember who he was, your attention was focused on the kitten you brought with you. He thought he had the wrong person for a second because of how cold you were towards him. But he quickly realized it was really you just by how you treated the kitten. 

He found your workplace, where you lived. Finding out that you moved out from your mom's place when she got into a new relationship, wanting to give them personal space. The only thing he couldn't figure out was what happened to you, how you've changed from the cheerful and friendly self to someone who didn't like human interactions. 

Suguru wanted to open a pet store and Satoru supported him financially. Picking the location to be between your workplace and your home, hoping one day you would notice him. 

His wish came true when he saw you, on the other side of the display window, playing with the kittens from the other side of the glass. You looked so happy and was your old self again. 

He would just hide in the back and watch you, it took months before he worked up the courage to go to your work. He was too shy to have you serve him, always just peeking at you while you worked as your coworkers prepared his order. 

It took him a long time to convince Suguru to let him pretend to be a cat waiting for adoption, Suguru had a bet with him, thinking it would never work, only for you to come in the store the very same day to take Satoru home. He fell harder for you when you put him first, wrapping your scarf around him to keep him warm, making him meals for him and always petting him.

Now laying in his own bed, he hates himself for messing everything up. He was happy with just being your cat, his greediness has cost him to lose you. His large bed feels cold and empty, already missing your warmth and your gentle pats.

You woke up in your bed, the headache knocked you out for a while. It was already around dinner time. You got out to the kitchen and started preparing your dinner. “What would you like to eat Sa-” suddenly remembers that you've kicked him out already. “Argh.” You grunted to yourself as you prepared dinner for yourself. You missed the company, it's only been a few weeks but you got used to having him around and now the house feels a little too empty and quiet. 

You went to bed and your twin size bed feels so empty, Satoru didn't take up much space but it just feels different. You've gotten used to Satoru snuggling against you as you sleep, it took a while before you were able to finally sleep. 

You felt extra tired at work the next day due to lack of sleep, you were focusing on work when you saw the white haired man enter the shop. The audacity of this guy, you thought. He got in line, he ended up at your register, you kept a smile on your face but he could feel the daggers from your eyes piercing him. He didn't try anything, just placing his regular order. You decide to change his order, putting less sugar and more coffee. When you slid him the drink and watched him take the first sip, watching his face scrunch up put a genuine smile on your face. 

He saw your smile, even if it was just for a split second, he thought that bitter coffee became sweet just because of you. He sat in the corner of the store, still watching you work as you tried your best to avoid eye contact with him. 

The next couple of days rolled by with him showing up at the shop, you intentionally messed up his drink, making it more bitter every time. He would never complain about it, always finishing every last drop even if it felt like he was dying inside. He thought he deserves at least that, with you not kicking him out and all.

You feel like you should stay angry at him, for everything that he's done. But for some reason you couldn't actually stay mad at him, you missed his constant annoying remarks, you especially missed your cat, your home just feels empty these days.

He hasn't shown up today yet and you decided to go take your lunch break. One of your coworkers came running into the break room, “Hey Y/N!!! Your hot boyfriend is looking for you!” 

‘Oh no he didn’t’ you got up ready to give him shit, only to be met with someone who you never expected. You stumbled back and the colors were drained from your face. 

“Hey babe, took me a while to find you. Did you miss me?”

@moonchhu @non-artistic-license @entr4p3 @prtty-pink-angel @nonamevenus @victoria1676 @haithamsbb @jotarohat @birdwithhat @hel1nn @undercooked-chaos-noodle @akiraneedstobefixed

story i left it with another cliffhanger >_< i didnt wanna make it too long so now u all have to suffer... i tagged smut but realized there wasnt much from this chp.. i promise next one will make it up :D

[scentedluminarysoul]

SOMETIMES IT'S ON PURPOSE OKAY I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S CALLED BUT SOMETIMES YOU REPEAT THE SAME WORD OR PHRASE ON PURPOSE IT'S A STYLISTIC CHOICE

Ahem. Also. You don't need to thesaurus every word. It's fine if you call a table a table multiple times

Honestly, writing has become so complicated and everyone's a critic and don't you DARE use the same word twice or start a sentence with "he" twice in a row!

Can we go back to actually caring about SUBSTANCE? About what it's trying to tell you?

I'm currently reading Agatha Christie's "And Then There Were None" from 1939. It's written so SIMPLY and yet it's so good and just effective in what it does.

Do you know how often it says "(character name) said:" and then just the dialogue? That's the vast majority of how her dialogues work. Simple, easy to understand, no confusion as to who's talking.

It's not fancy, and yet she's one of the best writers to have ever existed

I mean, look at this:

It's just a simple dialogue that keeps going like that.

One of the most repeated writing advices you read is "make your dialogue interesting", like give characters something to in between tags, etc.

But lads—this dialogue is interesting in and of itself. It's intriguing. Why would they also need to juggle chainsaws or low the lawn or whatever?

And the dialogue tag Christie uses most often is "said". Simply "said". Because it doesn't need more.

Here and there are a few hints as to how the characters are feeling ("angrily", "dryly", "after a minute or two"), but it's your job as a reader to UNDERSTAND and INTERPRET them, to THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE READING.

And I think that's the big problem nowadays: people don't want to think about it anymore. TikTok girlies brag about reading 3 books a day, but they don't UNDERSTAND them. That much is clear when you listen to them talk about books

And this is also what people mean that you should read when you want to become a writer. Because you can read all the writing tips ever online, but that will only make you go insane and insecure.

READ and you will see how they're applied. Or not. And even then the book is still good

And no book is perfect or even good from start to finish. There will be dull moments, or misses in even the best books

And you need to see those flaws in order to become a writer

I forgot about that myself.

The key to writing well isn't to use the best and most interesting words perfectly

It's to use the words you have effectively.

Sorry OP, didn't need to rant

But sometimes all these clever "writing tips to become a better writer" are really missing what's truly makes a good writer:

The heart

Of you only count how many times someone used the same word in a paragraph, instead of trying to understand what that paragraph is telling you, you don't care about the art of writing

Actually you CAN use the same word twice in the same paragraph. The same sentence even. If it's funny, if it's for emphasis, if it's harping on a theme, if you're sexy and you do whatever you want forever. Write on

[ablobwhowrites]

PLEASE-... please just a bit more on the 'A new home sweet home' AU. I'm emotionally attached I'm attached to

Please I need more-... I love them🥲

-the weird one

Don’t worry. There’s a lot more of new home sweet home au cause I like writing for this au.

There was a time when y/n and their best friend went to hang out for a little bit. (Don't worry, y/n's grandma was watching the toys and yeah they where introduced to their grandma and she acts like all the toys are her grandkids and she brought cookies for them everytime she gets to watch them for a bit) y/n's friend kinda snuck into playtime co but only the surface and found a document with y/n's name on it and it read how y/n was perfect for a experiment for a new toy. And their surgery date was the same time as the hour of joy and this makes y/n wonder if had they stayed and not went to work that week then what would happen to the toys? What would have happened to them? After everything and how they didn't know what was happening to the kids in that factory, they trusted that playtime co was a alright company but now they don't know what to think but y/n just decide to burn it. Just felt right that playtime co can't hurt the toys anymore, they can't hurt them anymore.

Also the first week when y/n brought all the toys back to their house. Y/n got some food and when I tell you, the toys sobbed because like food never tasted so good because being starved and forced be eating corpses and rotten food or even other toys. Like y/n made some food for them and when doey ate his food. Jack (sorry if I got the kids names wrong or mixed up) Immediately took over and he started to cry and eat cause like who wouldn't after finally getting to eat a good meal and being able to be in a safe house after being hurt, starved and abandoned and scared for years. And the fridge and any small snacks are all eaten and y/n isn't mad and will just worry about later.

Y/n also may have asked for their friends mini van and to be picked up and y/n's best friend was the first to kinda meet the toys and saw y/n basically bloody and beaten because no way they come out unscathed. It was a very awkward drive back to y/n's house. Also totally imagine just y/n taking a good shower but then shower though hits them and they realize they have bascially traumatized toys who where once kids but horrifically made into these things and now y/n has to take care of them but it's better than the factory. Far better than the factory.

(that's it for this yap session. Promise more stuff for this au is coming out but if you like it please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or just your thoughts on this au. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[suiana]

thinking of a guilt ridden reader and a silly manipulative yandere who looks exactly like someone from reader's past.

maybe you did something bad to a friend, perhaps ended a relationship on bad terms with someone who never deserved to be treated badly. whatever it is, just the mere thought of that person causes you to physically curl up and pray for forgiveness.

so you spend the rest of your days like a dead man walking, the guilt of your actions clawing at the depths of your heart. it makes it hard to do anything, let alone think. because when you are left alone with your thoughts, all you can imagine is their expression when everything went wrong. oh how you'd give up anything just to change the past and your actions.

as if your guilt wasn't enough, he just had to skip into your life looking exactly like that person. like them.

at first, you thought of this as a curse. this... this stupid guy? looking exactly like them? then as you sort of warmed up to him, you still think it's a curse. because what gave him the audacity to come into your life, looking like them, and telling you how much he wants you? especially claiming that it was love at first sight and that you two were fated to be?

"i love you."

"can i be yours?"

"we'd be so good together."

you keep pushing him away. you know how this will end up, with you messing up just like last time. wouldn't it be better to just keep him at a distance? unfortunately for you he doesn't seem to think so. and it's like a curse. a demon from your past coming back to haunt you in the form of your greatest mistake.

if anything, your costant rejections only seem to keep him wanting... more?

"please, just one chance. that is all I'm asking for."

"no? you don't want to entertain me even the slightest bit?"

"how cruel, i never realised you were this heartless."

you eventually end up giving in. he just has that sort of effect you suppose. or maybe it's the guilt that's constantly eating you alive that's causing you to make this decision. after all, he looks so much like them and... you don't know what you'd do if he looked at you like that. not ever, not again. maybe this would be your way of making up for your wrong doings.

he couldn't be happier obviously. finally! the person he's been pining over finally accepted his confession! even if it took a long time, it all worked out. you're happy, his happy, everyone's happy!

until he found out you're not actually happy and you're just doing this because you feel guilty.

"what do you mean? am i just a replacement to you? a way to correct your mistakes?"

"hah! you're so- ugh, I don't even want to think about you anymore."

"save it, those are just excuses."

he's always been a manipulative person. he knows. and he knows that you know it too. yet he continues to manipulate you through it all. i mean, it's your fault for even treating him like a second option in the first place! what? he's the one that's been pestering you? no no, you could've just rejected him. it's not his fault, it's yours. you're not stopping him anyway so like, you're basically admitting you're in the wrong.

"yeah you should be sorry. how mean do you have to be to think of me just as someone you've hurt? I'm my own person too."

he says that but continues to use the fact that his familiarity elicits something in you. and he'll continue abusing it, continue taking advantage of your weakened state. why? because he can and because he wants to.

plus, it's amusing in it's own right to see you bending head over heels just to appease him. huh, guess the guilt runs deep, doesn't it?

oh it's whatever. he'll slowly condition you to start showing him the affection he so desperately craves anyway. he just needs to hold on a little longer. break you down a tiny bit more and then you'll be all his. he can feel it.

you two will be truly happy together. no other people, no guilt in your heart. just you and him, alone and content with one another.

that would simply be salvation, wouldn't it?

[cutielando]

back with you | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which he can't bear to see you with someone else

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

You and Charles had been together for nearly 4 years - a relationship filled with passion, love, and shared dreams.

But in the end, unfortunately, it just hadn't been enough.

The break-up had been devastating, leaving you heartbroken while Charles seemed to have moved on effortlessly, like your relationship had meant nothing.

A month after your split, you found out he had gone back to his ex, and it was safe to say that it had gutted you. The betrayal sliced deeper than the break-up itself, at least that's how it felt. While you had been drowning in sorrow, barely able to find a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, he had been rekindling an old flame, someone he had always told you not to worry about.

It was almost a cliche.

Finding that out was the moment when you had decided you wouldn't - couldn't - let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you with this.

And so, when the Las Vegas Grand Prix rolled around, you made a decision - you were going to make Charles jealous and make him regret his decision of ever letting you go and breaking up with you. And if you were going to do it, you were going to do it spectacularly.

Enter Grayson Dolan - famous YouTuber, charming, effortlessly attractive, and conveniently more than willing to help you prove your point and have some fun at the same time.

The Las Vegas strip shimmered under the neon lights, the energy of the race weekend pulsing through the air.

Cameras flashed as you and Grayson arrived at the paddock together, walking closely, your laughter light and effortless as you let your fingers graze his arm.

The sleek black revenge dress you wore hugged your curves perfectly, exuding confidence, power, and the very message you had wanted to send - you're thriving, even without Charles Leclerc with you.

And oh, did he notice.

Charles had been standing near his Ferrari garage when he saw you, his easy demeanor faltering as his gazed locked onto you and Grayson. His jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides as jealousy flared in his chest. You had always been his, and seeing you with someone else - someone who wasn't him - was like a punch to the gut.

The tension only thickened at the afterparty. The club was alive with pulsing music and flashing lights, a place where celebrations and inhibitions blended together.

You were dancing with Grayson, your bodies close, your laughter slipping between you as his hands rested casually on your waist. It was all for show, of course, but it was working.

Maybe even a little too well.

Charles had been watching you all night, his patience slowly wearing thin, his jealousy bubbling over.

And then, just as Grayson leaned in, Charles snapped and lost all control of himself.

Before anyone could even understand what was going on, Charles was shoving Grayson back with enough force to make everyone around you stop to stare and gasp.

"That's enough" Charles said, his voice low and full of warning, his eyes locked onto yours.

Grayson held up his hands, stepping back, but you weren't about to let Charles dictate your life, not anymore.

"What the hell is your problem?" you snapped at him, your voice cutting through the music as Charles grabbed your hand and pulled you outside the club.

The cool night air did very little to cool the fire between you two.

"What was that, Charles? You lost the right to care about what I do the moment you ran back to her" you said, accentuating your last word with disgust in your voice.

Charles ran a hang through his hair, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do you honestly think I don't care? You think it didn't kill me inside, seeing you here with him?" he said.

"You don't have the right to be jealous! You left me, Charles. You moved on!" you shot back, your voices echoing on the empty street.

"I never moved on!" he shouted, his voice cracking at the end. "I tried, but I couldn't. Being with her wasn't the same. She's not you, and she'll never be you" he said, shaking his head and exhaling sharply.

Your breath hitched, emotions warring within you as his confession settled between the two of you.

"I miss you, mon amour" he whispered, stepping closer, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "I never stopped loving you"

You wanted to fight it. You truly did.

You tried to focus on the pain and betrayal that he had made you endure, the deep resentment that you help for him in your heart ever since you found out he had ran back in the arms of the one person he had told you he didn't think about anymore.

But even so, your heart betrayed you completely.

Truth be told, you missed him too. God knows you missed him more than you should, given the situation. But how could you possibly stop loving the man that you wanted to spent the rest of your life with? How could you hate the love of your life? How?

The anger, the jealousy, the pain - everything melted away as Charles cupped your cheeks in his hands, his gaze searching yours.

And then, with the world quiet around you, you crashed into him, your lips finding his in a kiss that spoke everything left unsaid.

Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was inevitable, in some way. Maybe you were going to regret it.

But in that moment, all that mattered was that Charles Leclerc was yours again.

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[describingcolours]

A couple of people have reblogged this saying that its false equivalence or that the amount of effort nasa put into spacecraft is a little overkill for everyday objects.

That isnt the point. The point is that we know how to make things last through super harsh conditions. We know how to make things persevere. Read through the many other notes on this post and you'll see many people talking about fridges that their grandparents bought in the 60s that still work, or sewing machines over 100 years old that sew better than a modern one (i have a 1924 singer that needs a new treadle and works perfectly, but right to repair is a slightly different conversation).

And even if it was the point, why is it overkill to make everyday technology with the same effort and attention to detail as nasa would put in for example the jwst? Why should we settle for less?

Throughout human history, we've always put so much love and care into the things that matter and even the things that don't? Why is a microwave any different? Or a hoover? Or, if we want to be eco-friendly about it, the earth? The way we're getting through old shoes, phone batteries, etc is not sustainable.

This post got popular at a relevant time for me because a phone i had for 5 years had an update pushed through that purposefully bricked the battery. And google admitted as much. They offered a free battery replacement for all phones affected, but i expect this new battery to last all of one year. Google will have noticed that people with the pixel 4a weren't buying new phones, pushed this update with the excuse that it "stabilises the battery", offered the free battery replacement, so when this new battery no longer works people will remember the "brilliant customer service" and just buy the newest pixel.

I just hate that we're at a point where people will accept that things don't last and its through no fault of anyone's except time's. Things last. We just dont want them to anymore.

"well youve had it 6 years that's a good amount of time for that kind of thing to work"

"you should be grateful you got 3 years of use out of that thing, I'm lucky if mine last a year haha"

listen, in 1977 nasa launched the voyager spacecrafts to take advantage of a planetary alignment that takes place every 175 years. These 2 crafts were planned to flyby the outer planets of our solar system and gather data on them to send back to us. Voyager 2 launched first on the 20th of August despite its name because it was planned to reach our gas giants after its counterpart voyager 1, which launched a little later on the 5th of September.

The voyager mission was planned to end 12 years later in 1989. In that time, voyager 1 and 2 passed by Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. They discovered new moons, confirmed theories about Saturn's rings, found the first active volcanoes found outside the earth, and they take close-up images of planets only seen at that point from telescopes.

On the 25th of August 1989, voyager 2 encounters Neptune, the last planet in our solar system the voyagers will meet. And that was that. End of mission. Now obsolete.

~

Less than 1 year later on valentine's day in 1990 voyager 1 looked back on the planet that had built it and sent with it a world's worth of hopes and dreams and took a picture. We called it the solar system family portrait and in it, we see ourselves. The pale blue dot nestled in the darkness of space

And then commands were sent to shut down their cameras. Preserve fuel.

35 years after launch, in 2012 voyager 1 sent back to us data about interstellar space. The very first manmade object to enter it.

41 years after launch voyager 2 did the same. Still operational, still going. Still sending back to us invaluable data, teaching us about our own solar system and the suns influence in our local bubble of space.

They are expected to continue to operate until the year 2025 - almost 50 whole years after they were launched and 36 years after their mission was supposed to have ended.

48 years of harsh space travel, battered by solar winds, pulled by gravity but fast enough just to escape, pelted by who knows how much space dust and radiation.

And even after that, they still have a purpose. Each craft was given a golden record. A disc filled with human knowledge and knowledge of humans and the planet they live on. Greetings and well-wishes to any prospective extraterrestrial life that could potentially pick it up. Co-ordinates, an invite. Samples of our music, the things we love, sounds of the earth, a story of our world. The surf, the wind, birds and whales, images of a mother, our moon, a sunset. Long after the voyager spacecrafts go dark, probably long after we are gone, they will still be doing their job; educating a species about our very tiny corner of the galaxy.

They are nasa's longest-running operation.

And it was all done using 70s technology.

So excuse me if I want a phone that lasts more than 2 years or a vacuum cleaner that doesn't break down after 6, or god fucking forbid, a refrigerator that will keep my food cold my entire fucking lifetime.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i hate the way i don't hate you

for @steddielovemonth inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You

rated m | 2571 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: inspired by 10 things i hate about you but it's so short so keep that in mind, enemies to friends to lovers, time skips, getting together, falling in love, modern au

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

“Let me get this straight: you asked him out as part of a bet.”

“Mhm.”

“Because he’s insufferable and everyone in your little misfit group decided it would be funny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And your plan was to stand him up at prom so he would know how it feels to be heartbroken.”

“In a nutshell.”

“And then you fell in love with him.”

Eddie blinks at Robin, who looks like she might kill him with her bare hands. Honestly, he deserves it. He kinda hopes she makes him suffer.

“All signs point to yes,” he says.

She sighs. And then she sits down. And then sighs again.

“This is absolutely bullshit, you know that right?” She finally asks. “Steve’s a good person. He never deserved to be treated like his feelings don’t matter.”

“I know. And I should’ve known that from the beginning.”

“You fucked this up. He’s gonna hate you.”

Eddie knows that’s a good possibility. He hopes Steve is forgiving, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to ask him to be.

“If he does, I deserve it. But I came to you because I couldn’t lie anymore,” Eddie knows his reputation with his friends is on the line. He doesn’t care. “I’m gonna talk to him tonight and let him make his own decision.”

“You’re gonna tell him the day of prom that his prom date is an asshole?” Robin stands up again. “You’re gonna ruin his senior prom.”

“I’m ruining it either way. People are gonna tell him about it at prom if I don’t tell him before,” Eddie argues. “He deserves to hear it from me.”

“He deserves to not be a circus act,” Robin says, but nods. “Make sure you return your tux tomorrow. His card will get charged a penalty if it’s late.”

Eddie doesn’t tell her he already returned the tux. He figures it’s probably not the time.

He knows Steve won’t want to be near him after he tells him about the bet.

****

One month earlier

“You’d never land a guy like that anyway,” Gareth jokes. “Steve Harrington wouldn’t even glance your way let alone date you.”

“He’s so uptight, he’d laugh in your face if you even tried,” Frankie adds.

Eddie watches Steve carry Robin’s books to her locker so she can carry her trumpet case and science project.

“Wanna bet?”

****

Two weeks earlier

“You write music?” Steve asks as Eddie closes his notebook.

“I try,” Eddie smiles at him. “It’s not always good. It’s rarely good.”

“Could I hear some of it?”

“Maybe.” Eddie lights his cigarette, smirking around it as Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. “Do you like metal?”

“I’ve never really listened to it,” Steve admits. “But I’d give it a shot if that’s what you wrote.”

“Come to my band’s show this weekend. I might play an original song as our encore,” Eddie says. “Might even dedicate it to you.”

The blush gets deeper.

****

The night before

“You know I used to wanna be an astronaut?” Steve says as he leans his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Still would if I was any good at math. I mean, I get by in class, but I’m in the easiest classes. Probably not astronaut material. Plus, I get seasick.”

Eddie laughs, something he’s done a lot with Steve. Something he never expected to be doing so much, actually.

“You could still work with NASA. Maybe you can’t go to space, but you could help people get there,” Eddie offers. “They’ve got plenty of people working in the office.”

“Yeah, but I think it would be hard to be so close, yet so far, ya know? Like I’m technically no closer to space there than I am right now. If anything, I’d be farther because I’d be stuck in a building, but here I’m with you,” Steve says simply.

Eddie leans his head on top of Steve’s, looking ahead instead of above.

His heart skips a beat when Steve’s hand rests on his knee.

“I’m glad I get to be here with you,” he says quietly.

Eddie swallows around another lie.

****

Present day

“Eddie! What’re you doing here?”

Eddie hates how excited Steve is to see him. It’s gonna make this so much harder.

His chest aches as he gives him a small, fake smile. Steve notices immediately because of course he does. Steve sees Eddie in ways his own friends don’t.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear it already in his tone, the way his body is rearing up for disappointment. Steve’s said it himself before: he’s always prepared for the other shoe to drop because everyone’s got two feet.

“Can we sit?”

“No. You can tell me whatever it is just like this.”

Eddie accepts it because arguing now isn’t going to help anything. Sitting or standing, Steve is going to be pissed at him.

“I can’t go to prom with you.”

Steve is looking at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean? Was something wrong with the tux? It’s not a big deal if you wanna go in jeans. I promise I was kidding about leaving you in a corner.”

Eddie gives an unamused laugh. “No, that’s- no. I lied to you. For over a month now. I only asked you out because my friends didn’t think you’d even talk to me, let alone agree to go to prom with me.”

Steve’s silence hurts almost as much as the tears that are gathering in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I ever even bet them that I could get you to go out with me. I’m sorry that sorry isn’t enough.”

Eddie can feel tears in his own eyes, but it’s not fair of him to cry. He caused this. He’s the reason Steve is upset. He shouldn’t get to be upset in front of him.

“Steven! The tux is pressed!” Steve’s mom yells from the front door. “Come inside so I can make sure the tailor got the sleeves right.”

Steve breathes in slowly before turning to his mom and telling her he’ll be in in a minute. He turns back to Eddie and sniffles.

“I guess I’ll see you at school.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. Really.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Steve walks into the house, leaves Eddie in the driveway.

****

Eddie paces his room.

There’s not a lot of space to do that, but he manages to wear a track in the carpet. Wayne will be home any minute asking him why he isn’t at the prom, why he isn’t with Steve.

Eddie will tell him and he’ll give him that same look he did when he told him about turning a kid away from Hellfire Club. It’s disappointment, and Eddie hates it.

The front door opens, Wayne’s footsteps echo to the kitchen while he puts away his ice pack and leftover containers from lunch, he pops open a can of beer, and then walks to Eddie’s room. He knocks on the door.

Eddie starts crying.

Wayne rushes into his room, sets his beer on the bedside table, and gathers Eddie into his arms.

“What’s goin’ on, son? Thought you’d be getting ready for your dance,” Wayne says, but it just makes Eddie cry harder.

Eventually, he calms down enough to explain.

Wayne keeps holding him because Wayne will always hold him, even when he’s disappointed in him.

“Well, he didn’t punch ya in the face,” Wayne finally says. “You apologized?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t matter. I still hurt him and he won’t forgive me.”

“You think you deserve to be forgiven?” He wasn’t asking meanly, just genuinely inquiring.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

If he’d asked earlier, he would’ve given a resounding ‘no.’ But he knows how sorry he is, and even though Steve probably never will forgive him, he does hope he will.

“If you’re really sorry, he’ll forgive ya,” Wayne settles on.

Eddie shakes his head, wipes his eyes and then his nose, frowning at the snot on his fingers. He wipes it on his shirt and falls back on his bed. Wayne laughs at him, pats his chest, and stands to leave.

“You could do something big for him,” Wayne suggests.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, you showed him that song you wrote about him yet?”

“I can’t show him that! Not now!”

“Why not? It’s about as big a declaration of love you can give.”

Eddie hates when Wayne’s right.

****

He gets Robin on board with bribery. A lot of it.

Money is definitely involved, more money than he really should spend, as well as his best weed (“it’s not for me!”) and free rides for the entire summer whenever she wants.

But she agrees to get Steve to The Hideout on Saturday night. She’s not good at lying, but she manages to tell a half-truth and Steve believes her.

Eddie’s a nervous wreck. His bandmates were read the riot act from him and from Wayne. They all apologized to Steve at school, though he didn’t really accept them.

It didn’t give Eddie much hope at all.

He’s doing it anyway.

Robin put in the effort of getting Steve here, so he’s gotta do it.

“You know ‘em and sometimes like ‘em just fine…Corroded Coffin!”

The guys all go on stage ahead of him when the crowd starts cheering. He takes one more deep breath and follows.

Gareth counts them in and they play.

It’s good, maybe one of their liveliest crowds yet. He can’t see many of the faces, but he knows Steve’s there. He saw Robin’s shirt when the lights dimmed between the first song and the second. She wouldn’t stay if Steve left.

Jeff introduces them after the third song like always, but pokes a little fun at Eddie.

“Sorry about our guitarist being a bit moody. He’s feeling deeply emotional about love,” Jeff starts the next song before Eddie can argue.

It’s a great show.

Everyone’s having fun, even Eddie.

But then the guys all sip on water and it’s Eddie’s turn to introduce his song. The song for Steve.

“Hey everyone,” Eddie starts, awkwardly. He’s not usually like this on stage. “Got a new song tonight. I wrote this for someone who I don’t deserve, but who I care about a lot. I know he’s mad and he should be. It may not fix anything, but I hope he knows that I mean every word.”

Gareth’s drums are soft for this one, just there to keep the beat with Frankie on the bass. Jeff moved out of the spotlight, still playing rhythm, but keeping the attention on Eddie while he sings.

He sings about falling for someone unexpected, wanting to create a love story better than Shakespeare. He sings about the boy who wanted to discover the stars, and the boy who wanted to hold his hand while he did. He sang about not knowing that he was capable of this kind of love, and wanting to have it forever.

When the song ends, the crowd claps, but they clearly aren’t here for the romantic ballad he just sang.

He lets Gareth count in for the next song and they go back to the loud, chest-thumping music they usually play.

He doesn’t see Robin anymore, and he decides then that if Steve left, he did everything he could for now. He can’t be more sorry than he is and he can’t force Steve to think more of him.

“Good show guys,” Jeff says as they tear down the stage. All of them are responsible for their own equipment, but they also help out the bar manager by unplugging the electrical and rolling the wires when they’re done. “And a great job on your song, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie gives him a small smile as he closes his guitar case. “Don’t know if it worked.”

“It did.”

Eddie turns at Steve’s voice, nearly falling over when he sees how good Steve looks. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and ripped jeans, something outside of his norm, probably trying to fit in with this crowd a bit. Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Steve.” Eddie isn’t sure who’s talking, but it must be him because Steve’s looking at him with shining eyes and the same smile he always gave him when he looked like he wanted to hold his hand. “You’re here.”

“Robin insisted,” Steve admits, stepping closer to Eddie. “But then I told her to head home so I could talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Steve’s mouth lifts in a smirk for a moment before he schools his features again.

“So you wrote that song for me?”

“Yeah. Is it too much?”

Steve steps closer again, only a few inches separating them now. He shakes his head. “Not too much, no. Maybe just enough.”

“Enough for you to forgive me?”

“I might be on the path of forgiveness.” Steve touches his chest, palm over his heart. “But can I ask you something?”

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

“What were you hoping to happen when you made the bet?”

Eddie has to think about that. Of all the things he’s thought about, this isn’t one of them.

Steve waits for him, though. He’s patient. One of the many amazing things about him.

“I think I just wanted to be right about you,” Eddie finally admits.

Steve nods once. “A lot of people wanna assume things about me because of who my friends were a couple years ago, and who my parents are, and how I always dress nice and act like a bitch. It’s easier to just think I’m a bad person than think I have any depth at all. Especially in high school. Even though most of us are adults now, no one really acts like it.”

“I’m extremely immature. You should probably know that if you’re gonna forgive me,” Eddie says.

“You’re not as immature as you pretend to be at school,” Steve smiles. “I’ve seen you, Ed. I know the bad boy against the grain guy isn’t all you are.”

“And I know there’s a lot more to you than your pretty face, though that’s a bonus.”

Steve kisses him and the guys all cheer for him. He’s laughing against Steve’s mouth, waving one hand at the guys to make them leave.

“Robin said you were crying when you told her,” Steve whispers against his mouth.

“She’s a traitor.”

“So you were?”

Eddie sighs. “Yes, I cried. I hated how much I knew it would hurt you to find out the truth.”

“You still have to make it up to me a little,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Well, I remember something in the song about worshiping me on your knees? Or was that a weird religious reference?”

Eddie kisses Steve again, smiling so much that their teeth clack against each other almost painfully.

“I’m an atheist,” Eddie replies.

“We’ve got a long night ahead of us then, don’t we?”

Eddie groans. “I still have to help load all our stuff-”

“Dude. You were forgiven by a guy who definitely could find better than you. We can handle the stuff. Consider it more of an apology for us being dicks, too,” Jeff interrupts.

Steve grabs Eddie’s shirt and tugs him along. “I’m not gonna tell them I forgive them until tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” Eddie looks down at the way Steve’s ass fills out the jeans he’s in. “On second thought, maybe next week sometime.”

[cozmowrites]

The Fire Burns Out

ooc: cheating

===

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. You sat on the couch, staring at the television screen displaying a paused scene from a movie you'd stopped paying attention to.

It had been a week since Bakugou came home late, smelling of someone else's perfume, and three days since you had confronted him about it.

Even now, the echo of his words replayed in your head, sharp and cutting.

"It didn't mean anything, alright?" He had snapped, his voice raw. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this." Why would he say something like that?

The argument had spiraled out of control, leaving behind wounds that words couldn't heal. His guilt was there, you saw it in his eyes. But it wasn't enough to stop him. Not enough to fight for you the way you had always fought for him.

Your fingers traced the rim of your coffee mug. Four years. Four long years together, and it all felt like it was unraveling at the seams. You remembered the beginning.

The way he shyly asked you out in your third year of high school, his cheeks flushed as he tried to play it cool. He loved you. The way he'd held your hand for the first time, his touch hesitant but warm.

You had believed in him, in the fire that burned so brightly in his soul. But now, that fire felt cold, its embers scattered.

The front door clicked open, and you heard his boots against the floor. He didn't announce himself like he used to. No, "I'm home," or teasing remarks about your taste in TV dramas. Instead, he walked straight to the kitchen, avoiding your gaze.

"Late night again?" You asked, keeping your voice even. You wanted to cry, but you had to show how u bothered you were. Just to get through it.

"Work," he muttered, not looking at you as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Work," you repeated bitterly. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

His movements froze, and for a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he turned to face you, his crimson eyes hard but tired.

"What do you want me to say, (Y/n)?" he asked, his voice low. "That I'm sorry? I already said it. What more do you want from me?"

"I want the truth," you shot back, standing up. "I want to know why. Why her? Why now? After everything we've been through, Katsuki, how could you—" Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it.

His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It just happened, alright? I don't know what else to tell you!"

"You don't know?" You said, your voice rising. Cracking. "You don't know why you decided to throw away four years like it was nothing?"

"It's not like that!" He snapped, his own temper flaring. "Stop acting like I don't care about you, because I do!"

"Do you?" You challenged, stepping closer to him. "Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it. You haven't looked at me the same in months, Katsuki. I'm not stupid. I know you've been pulling away, but I thought—" Your voice broke again, and you took a shaky breath. "I thought we could fix it."

His silence was deafening, and for the first time, you saw it in his eyes—resignation. He wasn't going to fight for you.

"Maybe we can't," he said quietly, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. The tears you'd been holding back spilled over, and you turned away from him, covering your face with your hands.

"God, you're such a coward," you choked out. "You'd rather cheat than talk to me. You'd rather hurt me than admit you're falling out of love. How did we get here, Katsuki?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice softer now. "I don't know, (Y/n)."

The fight drained out of you, leaving behind a hollow ache. You sat back down on the couch, burying your face in your hands.

"I loved you," you whispered. "I still do. But maybe that's not enough anymore."

Bakugou stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked like he wanted to say something, to reach out to you, but he didn't. Instead, he turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with your broken heart.

+++

The days that followed were a blur of cold silence and awkward avoidance. You both went through the motions, pretending you could coexist in the same space without addressing the chasm that had grown between you.

One night, you found yourself scrolling through old photos on your phone. There was one from your high school graduation, the two of you grinning like idiots with your arms around each other. Another from your first vacation together, where he had carried you on his back after you twisted your ankle hiking.

You missed that version of him. The version who looked at you like you were his entire world.

But people changed. Love changed. And as much as it hurt, you couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

+++

The final fight came a week later.

"I'm moving out," you said, breaking the silence as you packed your suitcase.

Bakugou stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, his expression unreadable. "So that's it, huh?"

"What else is there to say?" You asked, not looking at him. "We've been pretending like this can work, but it can't. Not anymore."

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "You're giving up."

You laughed bitterly, turning to face him. "I'm not the one who gave up, Katsuki. You did. The moment you decided she was worth more than us, you gave up. I'm just finally accepting it."

His gaze dropped, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But he didn't. Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "But sorry doesn't fix this. It doesn't fix us."

You finished packing and zipped up your suitcase. As you walked past him, he reached out and grabbed your wrist.

"(Y/n)," he said, his voice cracking.

You looked at him, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of the boy you had fallen in love with. But it wasn't enough to make you stay.

"Goodbye, Katsuki," you said, gently pulling your hand away.

And with that, you walked out the door, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything.

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

requests ツ

[theforestknowsmydreams]

stop stop stop i'm gonna cry

i've spent most of my time online since i was maybe 15? and a lot of people i'm not on contact with anymore because i'm just in different communities now. but there's one guy. one specific guy

i first talked to him on twitch. he was a small streamer and playing my favorite horror game (layers of fear). at the time, probably around the time i was 15 as well, i would watch every single layers of fear stream i could find. the reason i stuck around, apart from him just being a cool person, was that he literally jumped onto and over his chair at one point because he got so scared. it was funny, but i also saw an expressiveness in him that i envied.

i became his moderator and he my favorite streamer. the first time we spoke privately it was because he'd switches controllers on stream - and the new one, for some reason, was named his full government name. he didn't even notice, but because of how big of a deal it was (he later told me that by looking up his name people could have found info including his old address and phone number) we got very close very quickly. so now we were friends.

he downloaded whatsapp so we could talk more easily, and chatting with him made me very happy. i was a weird kid with a warped sense of boundaries, but he never tried to take advantage of that (which was a big deal to me, who had no adults in my life i could trust). he also had a cat named Mo, which happens to be my name, and later on got a puppy that he named Zephyr. it was white and had bright blue eyes.

at some point my mental health took such a bad turn i stopped responding to his messages. showing up to his streams. i was just. gone. when i'd gotten more stable and checked, i saw he didn't have whatsapp anymore. i don't even know if his number is still accurate. he doesn't stream anymore either.

i wish we'd met under different circumstances. i wish you had gotten to be friends with the me that doesn't hate himself and life. the me that's recognizing and working on my faults. i miss you dude

thinking about the people who vanished without a trace. The mutual who reblogged something as usual and never came back online. The friend on discord who just disappeared, and when you go to check on them their account is deleted and theres no other way to contact them

I look out of my window and hope you are okay, I wish you well and Im sorry I didn't get to say goodbye.

I hope we meet again someday but until then. Stay safe. Stay alive. Be well.

[thebangtancloud]

bts reaction being very rude towards reader the whole day. please make it angstyyyy

He's being rude ~ BTS Reactions (Hyung Line)

Genre: Angst Warnings: I'll try to make the scenarios a bit different in each one. quite angsty, lol. brace yourselves. curse words, fights.

BTS Reactions Masterlist || BTS Masterlist

Kim Namjoon:

"So we've come to this now? Walking out of fights?"

Namjoon conveniently chose to ignore your words, continuing to pack his bag quietly.

"Namjoon, can you...can you just talk to me for a moment, please?" you pleaded, running a finger across your eyebrow in frustration.

It had been a long day, and a fight with him was the last thing you wanted, the last thing you needed at this point. But before you knew it, Namjoon and you found yourselves in the middle of an argument over an extremely petty matter, harsh words flying across the room like dirty confetti.

"Babe, just-"

"Don't touch me," he snarled, brushing your hand off of his arm when you tried to stop him from packing his stuff.

"You've said enough, and I can't take this shit anymore. You always do this, (Y/n). You always act as if the weight of the whole world is only on your shoulders and that only you can feel stressed and lonely and everything else you were complaining about today."

"Complaining?" you asked in disbelief, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest at his words. "I just wanted to express my feelings to you, Namjoon! It's been a long day, can I not talk to my boyfriend about my day?"

"You can!" he exploded unexpectedly, turning to face you and giving you a bit of a fright at his sudden movement.

"You can talk to me about your day, you can. But the problem with you is that you don't understand the difference between talking and blaming."

"What do you mean blaming?" you frowned.

"Really?" Namjoon placed a hand on his hip, giving you a look.

"Really, (Y/n)? 'Nobody is even there for me anymore. You're always busy, you can never make time for me. I'm lonely. I can't talk to my friends cuz they're all changed and not the same anymore.'" Namjoon recited your words from earlier. "Shall I continue?"

"How is that blaming? I didn't blame anyone! I just told you how I felt!"

"No, (Y/n)," he shook his head. "This is what you always do. You don't start any conversation with the intention to just vent your feelings. You always jump into how everyone is wrong and only you are the poor soul in the world who is hurt by everyone's wrongdoings. Get over yourself."

"Namjoon," you whispered, not knowing what to say.

Had you really been that way? All you knew was that it had been an extremely depressing and stressful week for you, and every time you tried to talk to Namjoon, he was busy with work. Your friends too began to betray you in ways you did not want to get into at that moment, but the words that Namjoon spoke were nothing less than knifes slicing right through your skin.

He turned back to the bag, aimlessly dumping a pair of clothes and his charger into it.

"You don't always get to play the victim card, (Y/n). Please get over yourself. You're not the only one who has bad days. Are you really that selfish that all you could think about is yourself?"

He suddenly turned to face you.

"Did you not once think about me? Did you never think that even I would want to come home after finally getting some time off from work so that I can talk to my girlfriend about my issues and struggles and maybe feel good about it? I don't ever blame you for not being there? For not asking me about my problems? Do I? Have I said anything until now?"

Your head dipped in shame, not just feeling fully hurt by everything he said, but also knowing that he was partly right. You wanted to make it right, but you did not know how. Yet, before you could say anything, Namjoon zipped up the bag, throwing it over his back and walking towards the nightstand to take his phone.

"You really need to get over yourself. The world doesn't revolve only around you. Stop being so selfish and victimising yourself every single time. I'm not gonna take your shit every time."

Kim Seokjin:

"Babe," you tapped his shoulder as you continued to follow him around the house. "Babe!"

"Yes," he nodded dismissively, not even bothering to turn to look at you as he pulled out random stuff from the cupboard and began to rearrange them in a useless attempt to look preoccupied.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Then why won't you talk to me?" you questioned, your voice progressively falling into a sad tone with each moment that passed by.

"I am."

"But...but," you looked around desperately, as if it would help you find the words that you wanted so badly to say to him. "But it's not normal."

"It's normal."

"Jin," you whined, walking closer and pulling at the fabric of his sweatshirt. "Talk to me, please."

"I am," he repeated, looking as disinterested as ever as he shut the door of the cupboard and began to walk back to the living room.

"You're being mean," you mumbled, still choosing to follow him into every room that his feet took him to. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"But you haven't even looked at me properly in the last few hours!"

At that, his movements came to an abrupt stop, his head turning to face you rather dramatically.

"And you still didn't get the hint?"

A low gasp left your chest, plopping down onto the sofa beside him since that was what your plan was before he hit you with this statement.

"For what?"

He chuckled, although it was evident there was nothing that he found funny.

"Maybe I just don't feel like talking to you, or-" once again, he turned to look at you straight in the eye, "look at you...properly. Not everything is about you. Go and, I don't know....live, I guess."

"That's really fucking rude," you spoke, not even caring to hold yourself back. How dare he? After treating you like a stranger for the past few hours, you were not about to take this shit from him.

"Nice choice of words, Jin. You could have told me what you really intended to say, which clearly was to get a life. Why keep that back? You've already proven to be nothing but a butthole for the last few hours, why be nice now?"

"I'm not trying to be nice," he snapped back, but before he could open his mouth to speak again, you held a hand up straight to his face, shutting him up effectively.

"You're telling me to get a life? Alright, cool. Thanks for that, Jin. From now, don't be the amazing boyfriend you were just a week ago begging me to take some time off to spend your holidays with you. And I know that not everything is about me, so hey, go enjoy your amazing life, and I will too. Wasting my time running behind you is clearly what you don't want me to do."

Min Yoongi:

"Yeah, that's fine."

"What's fine?"

"The dress," Yoongi murmured disinterestedly. "Take it if you want."

"Yoongi," you sighed, walking towards the plastic chair that he was sitting on. "Did you even look at me?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes fully trained on his phone as he continued to type on the screen.

"Yoongi!"

His fingers stopped, and you watched as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What?"

"Does this look like a dress to you?"

Finally, his eyes trailed over your outfit, noticing that you were wearing a pair of dirty grey jeans and a yellow top shirt with flowers on it. He thought you were wanting to buy a dress for the party that evening.

"Oh," he stated lamely. "Sorry."

"Are you...what - are you even interested?" You asked him in frustration, pulling the hair tie off of your wrist and tying your hair up. The anger that was building up inside of you was beginning to make you feel hot and clammy in the small clothes shop that you brought him to.

"Yeah," he replied simply.

You sighed shakily, not wanting to make this into an argument, yet not knowing exactly how to not do that.

"You were not even looking at the previous outfits I tried, were you? Why'd you say the dress is fine?"

He shrugged, looking back down at his phone.

"I dunno," he mumbled under his breath, "thought you wanted a dress. But this is fine, good thing you didn't go for a dress."

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Can you just get whatever you want and then we can leave?" His voice was laced with a tone of annoyance, his eyes naturally drifting to the exit of the store.

"No, what do you mean its a good thing I didn't go for a dress?"

"(Y/n)," he clicked his tongue, running a hand across his face. "Look, it just doesn't suit you, man. I don't know why you have this weird obsession with those kind of dresses, they make you look pregnant."

"What?" You couldn't stop the gasp that left you. "What the hell?"

"No, look, I know how you are. Don't get me wrong, I am not calling you fat. I am saying that the cut of the dress is very weird in the stomach area, it bloats out and makes it look like you're pregnant. I'm not saying you're fat, so don't go down that path. I'm just saying that the dress does not suit you."

"How long have you kept that inside of you, huh?" you questioned him, already feeling too hurt by his words. "It's been a couple of months since I have been wanting those 'dresses' that I know that now how much you think it looks horrid on me, and you only choose to say this now?"

His face changed into one that showed nothing but irritation.

"I knew you'd say something like this. That's why I kept my mouth shut all this time. Can we just go? Or you know what, I'll go. You can continue shopping and get whatever you want."

"What the hell, Yoongi?" you said in disbelief. "Why are you being so rude? What's wrong with you?"

"Look," he sighed, standing up from the chair and looking away from you. "I just wanted to rest, okay? I didn't wanna go out, shopping, movie, lunch, this or that. I didn't want any of that. I even told you. But you insisted and dragged me out here. So don't blame me if I look like I don't wanna be here. Before we left, I told you I didn't wanna go, but you forced me. So deal with it."

"I forced you?"

"Yeah, you insisted and made all those faces and quite literally blackmailed me by saying that I don't love you anymore. You were so wrong to say that, dude."

"I was joking when I said that, Yoongi," you whispered. "I just wanted to go out with you. We haven't been out in almost a month now and we have to go for Hoseok's birthday party anyway, I thought we could get some things for that."

"Well, I didn't, okay? And if you wanted to get stuff for his birthday, you didn't have to say that I don't love you anymore. That's totally unrelated, if you wanted to spend time with me instead of getting stuff to prepare for his birthday, that would be different. I didn't wanna go out, do any of that stuff that you just said. So please, take your time, do all that, I will be in the car."

Jung Hoseok:

Words couldn't describe just how painful it felt to watch Hoseok withdraw from your touch. The people seated at the table fell into an uncomfortable silence, the abrupt action making everyone furrow their eyebrows in confusion and worry.

"I told you to stop doing that, (Y/n)."

"Doing what?" you mumbled rather lamely, not even knowing why you said that when you knew just what he was talking about.

"Stop touching me again and again! God...I-" Hoseok sighed rather loudly, dropping the spoon onto the plate and standing up from the chair.

"Sorry guys, please excuse me."

"Hobi-"

Before you could get out another word, the man was at least three feet away from the table, and all you could do was watch in dismay as he stormed out of the restaurant.

"What's going on?" Jimin asked softly, being the one right next to you. His tone was rather soft, as it was obvious how incredibly awkward and embarrassing this was for you. "Shall I go talk to him?"

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head. "He's just a little sensitive today."

"Did you guys have a fight?" asked Jungkook from across the table, followed by a soft hit to the arm by Namjoon which served as a warning to not cross it.

"Why don't you go talk to him?" the leader suggested, concern apparent in his tone. "We're here, don't worry about us."

"Uh..." you trailed off, looking back at the door to the exit before nodding. "Yeah, maybe."

"Take your time," Jimin urged with a kind smile, patting you softly on your shoulder. "Talk to him, he will understand. Sort it out properly."

With a stiff nod, you stood up from your chair, making your way towards the exit, knowing that all eyes at the table and even around were trained on you.

It took you about five minutes to find Hoseok, who was leaning against the wall of a building further away from the restaurant, and whatever held you back in that moment just...left, a strange sense of shock and urgency fuelling your next movements.

"What the hell?!" you exclaimed, reaching him in no more than three large steps, your hands moving on their own accord as they snatched the cigarette straight out of his mouth.

"(Y/n)!" Hoseok yelled out, his eyes looking down at the bud that was now in a small wet puddle near your foot.

"What's wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with me?" you repeated, your tone now matching his. "What's wrong with you Hobi? You smoke?"

"Yeah!" He shouted, pushing your arm off of him that went to grab onto his jacket. "Yeah I smoke! With you on my bloody back all the goddamn time, I have to!"

You let his words sink in, subconsciously taking a step back.

"What part of 'stay away from me' do you not get, (Y/n)? I'm not like you! I need my fucking space and if you didn't get the hint until now, let me spell it out for you! Stay the fuck away from me! I don't want to resolve this fight, I don't. I'm fucking tired and I don't have it in me to deal with your bullshit anymore! Just give me my space, man!"

It took a good moment for you to swallow that painful lump in your throat, the tears not even caring to ask for permission as they simply slipped out of your eyes.

In a hopeless attempt at trying to make this better, you raised your hand up mindlessly, wanting to reach out to him.

"It's been three days, Hobi," you whispered sadly, not really knowing what else you could do. At this point, the man in front of you was doing nothing but add to the misery that you were already drowning in. "What more can I do to sort this-"

"I just told you," he spat through gritted teeth, both hands now clutching his hair in complete frustration. "I don't want to sort this out! Let it be this way. If this is the end, so be it! I don't want to do anything about the fight and our situation right now. So just leave me the fuck alone!"

"What do you mean 'if this is the end'?" you cried, your breaths now ragged and harsh. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Look, (Y/n)," Hoseok blew out air through his mouth, a very clear sign that every part of this moment was irritating him beyond control.

"I said, I don't want to do anything about this right now. We're fighting, I'm crazy mad, you're upset and crying. I don't want to do anything about it. Just let me be. Let us be. I don't want to do anything, neither end it nor make it better. Just...just let me be. Please, stop following me everywhere and calling me all the damn time. I need space, I don't know what else to say to you if this isn't clear enough for you. I don't want to be near you right now."

🫣

[hukelughes]

your writing of frat luke made me think about frat quinn (which we don't see a lot i feel like)

can you maybe write something about a situationship with him

You nod along to what he’s saying, an easy smile on your face. You like him, he’s easy to talk to, knows exactly what to say at the right time, and wants to know you. He’s exactly the person who you should want.

“So, I just eat shit down this hill as like ten scouts are looking straight at me, I’ve never been so embarrassed.” He laughs, putting his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he recalls the moment. 

Your smile slowly fades as you give him a fake laugh, something you’ve perfected these last few dates.

“This guy puts his stick in front of my legs, and I fall down, y’know, like eat complete shit down to the ice as everyone’s watching me. My coaches, the scouts, my parents, my brothers. I swear if anyone ever finds that clip, I’m retiring and moving to the Galapagos to become a fucking biologist.”

You burst out laughing, head falling back as he watches you with a soft look in his eye. “Oh my God, do you even have a biology degree?”

“Nope, I quit college in my second year and was a Sports Management major. I would be fired on my first day, I think.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. The other one was gently holding your waist, with your bodies facing each other and your faces closer than ever. 

“Aw, well it’s a good thing you’re making it big now, huh?” You mumble, looking down at his lips. You’re not being subtle, giving him hints about what you want for about an hour now. “Quinn, can we go back to your place?”

“Yeah? You wanna go back to mine?”

Nodding, you lean forward enough that your breathing lands directly on his lips. “Yeah.”

He breaks the distance, hands now going to cradle each side of your face. Your lips meet for the first time, immediately tasting the beer he’d been drinking. Putting your fingers in his belt loops, you pull him even closer, if that was even possible. Your tongues brush against each other as you both fight to lead. It’s messy, passionate, euphoric, and you don’t know if any other man could kiss you like Quinn Hughes.

“Are you listening? Hello?” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of the memory. 

“Yeah, sorry, your story just reminded me of something someone told me.” You grimaced, looking down to fiddle with your rings. 

“How about we cut this date short and just go right to the good stuff, huh?” 

His words send a cold chill through you, instantly waking you up from whatever trance you were in. “Sorry?”

“What, you don’t want to fuck me, baby?”

“Not really, no. I’m just going to go now, if that’s okay?” Without waiting for his answer, you grab your jacket and your bag. You can hear him calling after you as you walk towards the exit. Once you’re out in the cold Vancouver weather, you finally breathe out a sigh of relief. 

Fumbling with your bag, you take your phone out and open up your contact list. You stop at ‘H’, thumb moving around in circles before you just click on it.

It rings three times before you finally hear his voice.

“Hello?” Quinn asks, his voice voicing his confusion as to why you were calling him during your date. “Y/N?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to gather your thoughts, before you close your eyes and let it out. “Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re still sharing your location with me right?” 

“Yeah, you should see me right away,” you hear him shuffling around, presumably getting up and grabbing his keys. “He really sucked.” 

“Did he?” Quinn hums, something about his tone tells you that he knew it all along. “Baby, I told you that you’re better off with me.” 

“I know, I know.” You absentmindedly kick a rock into the road. “I just thought our… arrangement wasn’t working anymore. Didn’t wanna get too emotionally involved with you.”

He chuckles under his breath, “yeah, well, it’s already too late for that. Here you are calling me to rescue you from your date.”

“Shut up. I was wrong.” You concede, rolling your eyes in the process. “What’s your ETA?”

“Hm, 5 minutes I think. Should be there soon, traffic isn't bad.” He estimates it's quiet for a second before he speaks again. “Mine or yours?”

“Yours, definitely yours.”

You aren’t talking about who’s place you’re staying at tonight. 

[dirtyyoungthingg]

its been a long ass week. your boss has been up your ass every day, always haranguing you with stupid bullshit. all you wanna do is relax, unwind, drink a few beers, and rot on the couch for a little while. and that's what you've done this evening. by the time i get home from going to the mall with my friends, you're quite a few beers deep.

i know how you get when you drink. stern. blunt. handsy. i try to pass by the couch quickly on my way inside, but you catch my wrist at the last second and pull me towards you. "c'mere. come have a drink with your old man." you pat the spot next to you on the couch as you take a long sip.

"dad, i'm not old enough to drink yet…" i shrink back a bit but you quickly decide you're having none of that. you suddenly pull me onto your lap so that i'm straddling you.

"it's been a real hard week, babydoll. please, just have a sip." you hold the bottle up to my mouth and help me sip. "theeere you go. see? it doesn't bite." i wince at the taste and try to swallow quickly so i don't have to taste it for long. "good girl. go on, have some more." i try to refuse, but you snake your hand to the base of my scalp and pull my head back, forcing my mouth open. you pour more of the beer down my throat and force me to swallow it. i'm all sorts of dizzy now, and you can tell. "god, you're such a fuckin' baby. can't handle the taste of a little beer, can't handle how fuzzy it makes that dumb little kiddo brain of yours." you make me finish off what's in the bottle. i'm too warm and fuzzy to refuse anymore. you watch as i lazily sip from the bottle, my tongue tracing the spout slightly as i try to get the very last drops out. your hands settle on my hips as an awful awful thought enters your brain.

your hands start to trace up and down my thighs, riding up my skirt inch by inch. "i like this skirt, baby. you get it at the mall today?" i dazedly nod, a drunken smile creeping across my face. i like the touch. your hands slide further and further up before hooking themselves in the string of my underwear. you hum softly as the fabric of my skirt rides up enough to where you can see the delicate lace covering your daughter's cunt. "and these? are these new?" i nod again and wiggle my hips slightly as you slide them down. you help me take them off under the guise of 'getting a closer look', but really its just so you can discard them before i realize they're gone. you suspect you could have just ripped them off of me in my lush state.

you grab the discarded bottle from earlier and begin to trace the spout of the bottle along my slit. i whimper softly, confused. "d-dad… what're you doin'?" you shush me as you start to tease the bottle between the folds of my little pussy. "shh. you know dad's had a long week, right?" i nod. "and you know that dad loves taking care of you, right? he loves when you buy cute little skirts with the money he makes." i nod again, letting out a soft, breathy moan as you force the bottle a bit deeper. "well, dad just works so hard, and no one helps him relax like his sweet little doll of a daughter does." you lean forward and press kisses to my neck. i can smell the beer on your breath from here. you grab one of my hips with your other hand and guide me to grind down on the bottle as i let out another sickly sweet moan. "such a good girl. dad's gonna play with you a while, okay? and by the end of it, you'll see that nothing's wrong with sharing a drink with dad every now and again."

[kittynugg]

pacifica joining the pines family is not slept on at all but i love thinking about like,, her and ford's dynamic and just the dynamics in general

their only interaction is in lost legends where she calls him hot so i think i'd like to play into that in a way that isn't weird like she'd make him try on all kinds of outfits or force him into a skin/haircare routine (i feel like she'd do shit like that for every member of the pines family-- buys dipper like really high-end deodorant ["The cheap stuff is NOT going to do anything for THAT," she says, pinching her nose] or throw stan a bottle of sunscreen citing that he should at least try to save what little of his face there is left) she would supply him with coconut-scented shampoo and threaten to sue anyone else in the family if she smells it on them because she specifically got it for *his* kind of hair (whatever that means. nobody in the pines family knows what shes talking about)

i don't think ford would mind it because pacifica knows how to get his hair to be nice and fluffy via this strange magic called.. "self care"? he's not too sure about it but it works!

she'd definitely start wearing more sweaters. her parents would be pissed about her wearing mabel-made clothes because "it's not even designer!" and "you're taking HANDOUTS!?" but she wouldnt give a shit. mabel sweaters are made with pure love and also mabel's shockingly good at making fashionable clothes

stan and ford would just take her under their wing and raise her as their own like dipper and mabel (did i ever say they move in with stan and ford in my brain. their parents get the divorce) and ford tries to murder preston after hearing about the bell thing (stan robs them)

honestly i used to ship dipcifica hardcore but nowadays ehh. its a great ship i love it but im just not as into shipping anymore im thinking more of a "dipper, mabel, your grunkle stan and i stole this child from its parents. you have a new sister now" situation. you know when that happens.

and she would INSIST on spending money on them at every opportunity she and ford would fight (almost physically) to foot the bill if the family eats at a restaurant

god forbid she catches one of them looking at something for a second too long in a store. they are walking out with that object if she has to glue it to them. (this is especially terrifying for ford who i can't imagine liking it when people spend money on him)

she'd force dipper and ford at credit-card-point to take a day off from whatever lab work or paranormal cryptid bullshit they're doing to have a spa day and ford hates everything about it

stan is determined to give her the working class experience so he takes her to mcdonalds and like normal people grocery stores and allow her to say "what the fuck" while trying to withdraw from an atm

dipper obviously gives her the paranormal investigator experience (drags her into the woods, gets lost for six hours, reveal that he actually knew the way back the whole time and was just testing what she'd do in the situation and she passed the test this was totally his intent)

anyway what the fuck am i talking about im done bye

[love-byers]

(same anon that previously sent an ask about the monologue, because writing all this just got me thinking)

Another thing to take note of is that Mike only talks in the past/present tense, but never in the future tense. He says "I've loved you every day since" but never "and I'm going to love you every day for the rest of my life". He's clinging to the past, he's refusing change. There's a line after where he says "And I’m not ready to lose you -- you hear me??". It's just so clear to me. Once he's ready, he can finally grow and allow new and better things to come into his life, and truly come of age. That's the kind of ending I believe is right for the show and those characters in a more general sense anyway.

OMG IVE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THE PAST/PRESENT TENSE STUFF THATS SO TRUE

i've always thought that it seemed like both mike and el were clinging to the past. it starts in the s3 epilogue when el says i love you too. its supposed to be taking the next big step in their relationship, maturing and changing. but mike realizes he doesn't want that, he doesn't want things to change. he doesn't want to get more serious with el. he yearns for the past when he was closer with will and didn't have the pressure of growing up and committing to el. and of course the idea of that scares him bc it makes him question the nature of he and will's relationship.

"And I guess...if I'm being really honest...I don't want things to change. So I think maybe that's why I came in here. To try to maybe...stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were."

i've analyzed the living hell out of this in a byler way, because it is undoubtedly coded towards byler, but i think there is a bit of mileven here too based on what happens in s4. here's some quotes/moments that made me think mike and el were clinging to the past because they know they have no foundation of a future.

"Bitchin' right?" "Yeah, yeah, bitchin'. Do you come here a lot?" mike is so dismissive of her here it's kind of funny

then there's mike bringing her eggos before their fight. he's trying to make peace with a staple from their past, but it doesn't work, because that's not what makes a relationship strong.

"You can't let those mouth breathers ruin you, ruin us." again a reference to a joke/phrase from their past. something they share, or should share. mike feels like saying that will draw them back together. but it fails

"They're nobodies. And you're a superhero." "Not anymore." i feel like this one speaks for itself lol

and the fact that the song playing over their fight is called "Eulogy", a track that plays during scenes referencing dead characters (barb, bob, el (before mike knew she was alive), billy) and metaphorical deaths, like el moving into the cabin with hopper. "This is your new home." it's representing the death of el's old life in the lab, and finding new beginnings. their fight was the death of their relationship, and even mike knows it. a fight you can't come back from.