#i hate that i had to do 3 lines of text it's so ugly..

[divorcedtom]

1x05 / 4x04

[loulovingho]

Bucktommy prompt: Tommy is dealing with chronic pain and Buck helps him through it.

Part 3 of my injured Tommy fic

If Tommy were being honest, there were some positives to being paralyzed. The first time he'd told Evan as much, he'd stared back at him with eyebrows raised and a face that said, “I can't wait to see where this is going.”

So Tommy had gone through the list he'd made in his head.

1. He always got the best parking spots.

2. Little old ladies now helped him in the grocery store.

3. People were constantly opening doors for him.

4. He'd get to board first on a plane... as soon as he and Evan figured out where they were going to go for their honeymoon.

5. Sometimes people let him cut in line.

6. He'd learned how to do some sick ass wheelies!

Buck had laughed along with his list, even adding a few himself.

7. Bigger hotel rooms.

8. Tommy's biceps were larger than Buck thought humanly possible.

9. If Buck got tired of walking, he could just sit on Tommy's lap and get a free ride.

And while these things were all good and true, there were plenty of things that made Tommy's new life far more difficult.

One of which were the body spasms.

He'd been warned about them in the hospital. Had a few of them before he'd been discharged. Learned how to deal with them, for the most part, through physical therapy. He'd also been put on muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and antidepressants.

Which really only caused more problems, because he spent the better part of a month feeling so doped up that he was asleep more than he was awake.

His doctors changed doses and moved around schedules, trying to find the perfect balance, but Tommy hated the pills no matter what.

They didn't only impact his day to day life, but also his ability and desire for sex.

And God, as his body recovered and he and Buck settled into their new normal, he really wanted to want to have sex.

Adjustments already had to be made do to the reduction of sensation he felt around his pelvis. Things got weaker and weaker from there, reduced to no feeling at all in his legs.

They'd had their quickie wedding at the courthouse in February, followed by a ceremony with family the next month, and started planning a honeymoon in the summer. And that's when Tommy decided he was going to cut back on some of his medications, and cut others out completely. He was not going to spend his honeymoon in a half daze, not caring whether or not his drop dead gorgeous husband was naked on top of him.

Buck had protested at first. He'd made it clear that sex didn't mean everything to him. The things they still did do were pretty damn great, and it wasn't worth Tommy being in pain.

But Tommy insisted.

So they'd met with his doctors and come up with a plan. He could go off the sleeping pills, taking them only when needed. They'd reduce the antidepressant in increments. And muscle relaxants could be used as needed as well.

For the most part, everything went fairly smoothly. His spasticity would rear its ugly head from time to time, but it wasn't anything unmanageable.

Until, one night, it was.

He should have known it was going to be a bad night. He'd been restless and uncomfortable all day long. He'd go from his wheelchair, to the couch, to the wheelchair, to the dining room chair, to the wheelchair, to the bed, then back to the wheelchair.

He'd tried wheeling around the neighborhood, usually enjoying using his arms to push himself around, but today he just felt stiff.

The muscle relaxants in the kitchen cabinet had been calling his name, but he'd resisted. Evan was coming off a forty-eight hour shift tonight, and he'd already texted Tommy a picture of himself all sweaty, no shirt on, telling him he was gonna get himself all cleaned up for Tommy.

And Tommy wanted nothing more than to give him everything he wanted, because he wanted it too. Which was a damn good feeling to have back.

He hoped that sex would help his body relax.

It didn't.

He'd gotten through it though, with a few little twinges of pain in his chest and back. Nothing too severe. And with Buck on top of him, his body flushed red, head tossed back and mouth hanging open, the pleasure overrode the pain.

It didn't get really bad until after Buck had fallen asleep. Tommy wasn't sure how long he laid there, trying to stay as still as possible so he didn't wake Evan.

Even as the pain started to radiate up his back, he clenched his teeth to keep himself from groaning.

Then it went to his chest, causing his breath to hitch. The spasm made his back arch off the bed. If it didn't hurt so bad, he would have made some sort of exorcist joke.

His hands gripped onto the fitted sheet and he could feel a vibration.

His legs were probably shaking. He couldn't feel it, but it always happened when he had these spasms, even the minor ones.

He couldn't hardly get a breath. Not while fighting to be quiet. Not while his back and chest felt like they were becoming harder than a rock.

Finally, he unclenched his jaw and let out a half-moan, half-gasp.

“Ev- Evan,” he huffed out, releasing his grip on the sheet to smack his hand down on the bed. Tommy couldn't quite reach out far enough to touch him. Not when everything was seizing up like this. “Evan!” he repeated, louder this time.

Even in his deep sleep, Buck must've realized something was wrong. One second he was dead to the world, and the next he was jumping up, tossing the covers off of them both.

“What? What's wrong?” he said, clumsily reaching over to the nightstand and turning on the lamp.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He didn't feel like seeing himself right now.

It took Buck's brain a few seconds to catch up to the sight in front of him. When he finally registered what was happening, he headed for the door. “I'm gonna get your meds.”

“No!” Tommy yelled, sucking in a breath. “D- Don't.”

“Tommy, you need your muscle relaxant.”

“I- I can't.” He managed to bring a hand to his throat, hoping Evan understood.

“You can't swallow right now,” Buck replied. It wasn't a question.

“Mhm. Just... Just-”

“Massage?” Buck guessed, getting to Tommy's side of the bed in record speed. “You think that would help this time?”

Figuring out the correct responses to these episodes was always a guessing game. Sometimes touch could make it worse. Tommy was pretty sure nothing could make it any worse right now.

“Mm... Mhm.” His jaw was getting so tight he could barely open his mouth.

“I'm gonna move you onto your side.” Very carefully, Buck turned Tommy's rigid body so he was facing away from him. It was an awkward angle, and he was having to do most of the work to keep Tommy on his side, but he managed to get into a position where he could start to dig the palm of his hand into Tommy's back.

At first, he was so tight Buck worried he was going to hurt him even more by massaging him. But, Tommy's breathing seemed to become a little fuller, and the groaning died down a bit.

So Buck continued. He'd alternate between using his palm, his fist, his thumb, to dig into the muscles and get them to loosen.

After a few minutes, Tommy had quieted down completely. His body relaxed into the bed as he flopped the rest of the way onto his stomach. The shaking in his legs subsided. He no longer felt like he was going to shatter into a million little pieces.

Still, Buck continued his massage. He worked up Tommy's neck, massaged his head, down to his shoulders, his back. He even massaged over his legs and feet, letting Tommy know what he was doing so he wouldn't think Buck had just left the room.

After about half an hour, Buck rested his hand at the center of Tommy's back. “Feel better?” he asked quietly, unsure if Tommy was even still awake at this point.

“Mhm. Thank you,” Tommy replied. He paused, blushing before starting to ask, “Did I... Do I need..?” He couldn't quite get the words out. Did I piss myself? Do I need to get up so we can change the sheets and clean me up?

It happened sometimes, when his body seized up. And while he nearly had full bladder control back, everything went haywire when it came to his spasms.

“No, you're good,” Buck answered, and Tommy thanked whoever might be listening that they were able to read each other's minds. “Think you can turn back over now?”

“Yeah. Yes, I- you'll have to help me though.”

“Of course.”

Once Tommy was resting comfortably on his back, head propped up under two pillows, Buck stared down at him. “You knew it was gonna happen today, didn't you?”

Tommy sighed. There was no point in lying. “Yeah. Not this bad though.”

“And you didn't take a pill earlier?”

“No.”

Buck sucked in a shaky breath as he nodded. He didn't answer. Didn't say a word. He simply turned and headed into the bathroom.

Tommy listened as he turned the sink on. It ran for a while, then Buck was back by his side. He ran a warm washcloth over Tommy's face, Tommy closing his eyes and melting into the touch.

Once Buck had finished wiping off his face, he started on his chest.

Tommy blinked his eyes back open, studying Buck.

He was tense, eyebrows knitted together as he focused on cleaning the sweat from Tommy's body.

Tommy's eyes drifted to Buck's hand, shaking ever so slightly.

He reached out and placed his hand over Buck's, gently gripping his wrist. Finally, Buck made eye contact with him.

“Please don't be mad,” Tommy said, knowing it was unfair even as he said it. Still, he hated to see Evan disappointed. Wasn't sure if he could handle it right now.

But as he looked further into Evan's eyes, he didn't see anger.

He saw fear, and sadness. Red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears that were threatening to spill over.

“M'not mad,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I- I'm upset. I don't like seeing you in pain, Tommy.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry. Just don't do it again. I can't... I can't enjoy being with you- having sex with you,” he clarified, “if I think you're hurting yourself for it.”

“I know, Evan. I just... I just wanted to be with you tonight. Wanted to feel good. Wanted to make you feel good.”

Buck tossed the rag onto the nightstand, sitting down on the bed beside Tommy. “You know what makes me feel good?” he started, resting two fingers under Tommy's chin so he couldn't look away. “Seeing you comfortable makes me feel good. Us enjoying dinner together makes me feel good. Going for a walk in the evening, watching movies, going out for ice cream, you holding me in your arms, getting to hold you in mine, kissing you for hours and hours. All those things, plus like a million more, make me feel good. Sex is fun, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it because damn you've got some moves,” he said, getting a smile out of Tommy, “but it's not everything to me. You are everything to me. I know we can't always prevent spasticity, but when we can, it would make me feel good if we did. Got it?”

Tommy nodded, giving himself a few seconds before verbally responding. “You can't just say stuff like that to me, you know,” he said, choked up. “I'm a softy now.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “You were always a softy,” he informed Tommy, leaning in for a kiss.

“I'm gonna go get your pills now, okay?”

“Okay.” Before Buck could get too far, Tommy reached out and grabbed at his hand. “Hey. Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Buck cocked his head, giving Tommy a glare. “If you start singing Rod Stewart to me, I will divorce you.”

“No, seriously, Baby,” Tommy said, keeping a straight face. “Have I told you there's no one else above you?”

“I already know a good attorney.”

“You fill my heart with gladness,” Tommy continued, grinning, “take away all my sadness.”

Buck wriggled his hand free of Tommy's grasp, heading out toward the kitchen. “If you hear the front door slam, I'll be back later for my things.”

Tommy's smile only widened as he yelled out, “You ease my troubles, that's what you do!”

[madschiavelique]

was a bit hesitant to ask this but thoughts on how Miguel would feel if reader was vv self conscious abt their body/said anything negative abt their appearance..? (talking abt this as someone who's also self conscious abt their body cuz i need to know how he would react/what he would say to the reader tbh 😭)

AAAAAAA BESTIE I FEEL YOU !! I'm part of the self conscious about their body gang - i just had to write more than just a thought on this<3

when it comes to self consciousness about my body, there's always one line from the song Paradis by Orelsan (french rapper), that says "Je comprends pas pourquoi tu t'inquiètes quand tu prends du poids. Pour moi, c'est ça de pris, ça fait toujours plus de toi." which i used in this text (clue : it'll be in italic)

summary : miguel reassures a self conscious reader on their body content warnings : comfort, fluff, miguel being a worshipper of you, genderneutral!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 739 tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel is a man who notices details, all the more so when those details are related to you. He noticed how you looked at yourself in the mirror from time to time, how you sometimes stood on your tiptoes when you were sitting to make your thighs look less large, how some days, even when it was hot, you wore a sweater covering you completely.

You were used to wearing baggy clothes, oversized sweaters and t-shirts, baggy pants, nothing that showed too much of your curves.

He'd noticed how you'd changed your diet lately, and how the portions you allowed yourself were... far too small for a normal meal.

You were depriving yourself of your favorite snacks, and even when Miguel offered you some, you begrudgingly refused. He could see the pain in your eyes, and he couldn't understand.

Then one day, standing in front of the mirror in your underwear, you started to cry. Miguel came running straight to you, taking you in his arms as you wept silently, little jolts shaking your body.

He stroked your back and hair gently, letting the sobs take their place as you sniffled against his shoulder.

"Hey hey hey," his voice was low, as if he felt that a word or a gesture a little too strong could break you into a thousand pieces, "nena, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping back.

He wiped your tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes were reddened and your lips bulged with heartache.

"I hate my body."

His heart cracked, and he came to take you in his arms again. So that was the reason for all this, for your restrictions, for all these choices that were doing you more harm than good. He couldn't understand how you could think such a thing, because he worshipped you like the goddess or god or deity you truly were.

"I wish I just looked different," you murmured against him.

"Why?" he asked, pulling away from you again to cup your face.

"Because, I look ugly, I feel ugly..." you sighed, your brow furrowing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

His lips were parted, he couldn't understand how it was possible for you to feel this way, to think this way about yourself. He found you so beautiful that the very thought of you thinking that way seemed almost impossible.

"I'm not pretty enough to be with you. There are so many prettier girls and boys than me-" you began, but he cut you off, not even letting you finish your sentence.

"Don't ever say that again," he said, his tone serious and almost warning.

He looked at you, sorry and almost angry. Because he was wondering who he was going to have to correct (annihilate) for having succeeded in making you think you weren't beautiful.

"Come here," he said, lifting you with ease to rest you on the sink while you were still wiping your cheeks. "Listen to me: Your body is not the reason I love you. I've fallen in love with your soul, your qualities and your flaws... even if I'm still trying to find the flaws."

You blew out a quick laugh from your nose, a tear running down your cheek as he brushed it away.

"It doesn't make you a failure, or undesirable, or ugly not to have the body of a celebrity on the cover of a magazine." he said softly as he kissed your cheek, his hand gently caressing your thigh. "Why should you worry about gaining weight?"

"Because it makes me ugly." you murmured, but he gripped your chin between his fingers so your eyes observed the truth in his.

"No, it doesn't make you ugly," he assured. "Even if you do gain weight, for me it's a given, because it always gives me more of you."

Your chin trembled slightly, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"No matter how long it takes, I'll make you love yourself," he confirmed. "I don't care what you look like, I'll still love you."

You smiled, tears still gently flowing, Miguel coming to place both his hands on your cheeks to clear them. You let out a little laugh:

"Even if I was a worm?" you joked.

He smiled, sighing softly.

"Yes, even if you were a worm." he laughed, kissing your forehead before hugging you again.

"Lucky worm." you whispered, wrapping your arms around his back.

"Lucky me." he whispered against your hair, stroking it gently.

[tigertan]

neighborly favors and chicago cigarettes.

uhh late to the bear party but eat up anyway .

probably part one of a slow burn fic im writing .. lmk if the public wants more :3 CONTEXT } you recently moved to chicago with the help of your friend syndey, who's boss-slash-friend-slash-business partner had an open apartment across from him. [word count ; 4k] [ mentions of alchohol, cigarettes, cursing. ]

;; all fluff. awkward first meetings. a lot of fuckin' tension and shared cigarettes.

the blackened mac and cheese in the pot bubbles vengefully on the stovetop and you curse it right back with a hissed out, “fuuuck.”

you’d left the stove on for a bit too long when you went to hop into the shower. as a result your mac and cheese became charcoal black and smoking. it’s a wonder how the fire alarm didn’t go off as you grab the handle with a stained rag and toss it into the sink. 

the hot pot emits a dying hiss as it hits the water, and red whines from under the couch. “yeah, i know.” you respond to him, standing square in the kitchen and staring at the pot of your former dinner. “that was the last box too, shit.” you groan, finally stepping forward to peer over the sink edge and now you were staring at the guttering pasta and dairy mixture with furrowed brows. “fuck.” you say once more. instead of red’s usual whine in response your phone buzzes on the countertop and you received a text from sydney. she’s down by the bear if you wanted to stop by and maybe grab dinner with her and some of the staff since closing is in 30 minutes? you respond to her with a swift hell yeah. you didn’t dress up much. neat white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. afterall, the bear was a walking distance of four to five minutes. and you throw on a black puffer jacket, for chicago wasn’t christened the windy city for nothing. again, an entire scene change from the warm, near stagnant winds of southern california.

leaving red in the bedroom as it’s way past his bedtime, you grab your phone, wallet, and keys before stuffing your hands in your pockets and stepping out. but as you do there’s a rustling of paper against polyester and a crumpled sheet inside your left pocket. you already know what it is before pulling it out and every fiber in you wants to throw it away. it’s a photo roll— from last winter— of you and your ex-boyfriend, lucas. you sigh, stuffing your bottom lip between your teeth as you stare at the once over the moon you and him. it seemed so long ago, before he started drinking. you clench your jaw. you’d moped around enough in the past three months. this was a fresh start that everyone said you’d deserved, and it would not be ruined by him. nothing would ever be ruined by him again. a spike of anger wedges between your ribs, familiar and fucking ugly. you heave your chest once, exhaling it out along with the paper roll, tossing it to the floor. you jet down the stairs two at a time and step into the windy streets of the windy city, smelling the air. it smelled of petrol and cigarettes, but you didn’t outright hate it. it smelled like l.a. but then again, every big city probably smelled like gas and smoke.

the walk was quicker than you expected, as you strode down the street, you took in the street signs and flashing lights and other lone passerby who shared the sidewalk with you. a peaceful time of stressful pacing, for many a person walking the streets so late at night. 

the bear was an elegant place, with a contemporary touch to the furnishings and finishings that you could see from the outside itself. you stepped inside, warm smells of food filling your nostrils and teasing your tastebuds.  

it was beautiful, the ambiance had an aura that screamed both family and stress. but such was to be expected from a place that was aiming for a michelin star. you spotted where staff filtered in and out from the front of house and back of house and was beginning to make a line towards it when you were stopped by a very tall man— in his forties most likely— standing behind a lectern at the front who slid his hand between you and your goal. he wore a crisply pressed, all black suit and a buzz cut. “reservation ma’am,” he asked, a cocked brow as he took in your simple attire. you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of your sweatpants and plain shirt; probably stained as well. “ah— well, i’m friends with sydney,” you reply, hoping it gets you past him. he doesn’t seem to be budged and you get nervous, even a little pissed from the way he’s looking at you. you’re a decent height, but he’s tall. that makes you shift on your feet. “i moved in next to her uh, friend-slash-buisness partner-slash-executive chef? does that— does that ring any bells?” you add on, shrugging. the big puffer you have on probably is not helping your case. “uh-huh.” he nods over another waitstaff, whispers in their ear and sends them off. you two then stand there for a bit, his blue eyes seeming staring directly into you and you shuffle a bit on your feet. you introduce yourself, guessing that maybe reducing the barrier of strangers would ease the tension of this encounter. telling him your name, you hold your hand out. he looks at it then back up to your face before taking it with a grip like iron. “richard. richie. nice to meet yo’.” “nice to meet you too, richie.” you nod shake his hand. at that moment the wait staff is back and whispers again in richie’s ear. he nods and they go back onto the floor and richie nods towards the back. “guess you’re free to go sweetheart.” he gives you a wink as you pass and you give him a scrunched up side eye. what a weirdo. the kitchen is fast. fast isn’t even the best way to describe it. just standing in the doorway had your palms itching to jump in and help, although you wouldn’t be much help, being a preschool teacher. a waiter was coming at you in long strides, an expensive dish in their hands and you immediately stepped to the side, not wanting to be the cause for someone missing their meal. you spot sydney, at the front of the line and constantly spewing out order after order after order, each one responding with a, “yes chef!” from the cooks in the kitchen. 

suddenly another chef bursts into the kitchen from the front and his pale brown hair is flying at the ends, although it looks like he’d tried to slick it back it obviously failed; his eyes are a striking blue and widened, the irises eating away the white sclera. but even though he seemed a tad shorter than you, he was pretty fuckin’ cute. that was, until, he opened his mouth and his voice climbed to a screaming spiel at sydney and anyone who was around, really. rounding the large table of food and preparation in the middle of the kitchen, he grabbed two trays and shoved them at the waitstaff. while you didn’t understand most of it, kitchen lingo was incredibly confusing— why was everyone chef? how do you know who was talking to who?— you could tell that he was practically bursting in anger, the bridge of his nose bunched up with the t-zone of his face. 

it was a sight really. a perhaps five seven man in a pressed white chef outfit screaming like all hell was breaking loose. maybe a little scary, but you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. from whatever dramas you’ve seen on chef life and the such— take marco pierre white, for example— head chefs were incredibly demanding, seemingly downright arrogant.

you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, being a prime target for your un-chef-liness in the midst of a busybodied kitchen, so you ducked into what looked like an office, one wall plastered with a ceiling-to-floor bookshelf and a framed picture of a baseball stadium. hopefully you were safe in here. you sighed. 

but it turns out you weren’t, because that same short angry chef came barreling into the office area and stopped short when he spotted you, the scream dying on his tongue. there was the thick and familiar air of awkward tension and you fiddled with the material in your pockets, swallowing. “hello.” you break in and he blinks. his eyes are huge, you realize. “are you— are you going to yell at me too?” “uh. i’m– i’m sorry, wh—” he replies, brows furrowing as he looks you up and down.  “CARMY!” sydney followed in closely after the chef, cutting him off. she looked at you, doing a short double take before looking back at— carmy? “can you just— can you calm down? you’re scaring everyone again.” she sighed, obvious exasperation on her face. it flicked a switch in carmy and he turned to her, all the anger filling his features in an instant. “no syd, the fucking fish is cold again. we have a vip up there and the fish is cold and—” he was like a candle wick, you realized. exploding now and then in violent, flashing flames, only to get doused out with a simple thing or the other. 

this time it was sydney circling her heart with a closed fist. and he stuttered, swallowing harshly before doing the getsure back to her. “i’m sorry.” she says, “i was caught up again and it all got fucked. i’ll fix it.” unsure of what to do, you debated doing it too. but maybe that would be weird. so you instead shoved your hands deeper in your pocket and thinned your lips. “uh. sorry,” you shot a look to carmy. “should i go?” you asked sydney. “i thought you guys were uh. done so i like— came over here.” 

sydney chuckled lightly, though it sounded more tired than anything. “no, no you’re fine. it’s just the dinner rush. it’s dying out, the kitchen closes in like— fifteen minutes. i didn’t realize you’d get here so quickly.” “well, it’s like a five minute walk, so.” you explain. “i would’ve hung out with red,” you joke. sydney grins. “yeah, he would’ve liked that a lot more.” “okay, who is this?” carmy interjects, hands splayed in front of him as if he tried to physically stop the conversation between you and sydney. your friend nodded as if to say oh yeah, and gestured to you, telling carmy your name. “she’s the one who moved across from you. that’s why i asked you for that apartment information.” 

he just nods, then hands you another look before turning on his heel back into the kitchen. 

sydney watches him walk away and then turns to you. she shrugs in apology and you dismiss it with a wave. “i’m. so sorry. i genuinely thought you’d take longer. just… hang out in here, i guess.” you laugh and take a seat— gingerly— in the office chair. “yeah, i’ll just hang out in here.” sydney nods then jets back to the chaos that is the kitchen after flashing you another one of her signature smiles. thank goodness you’d downloaded that mind-numbing mobile app on the flight here.

-- you could hear the unwinding of the kitchen from the office. it was evident; the defeated hiss of fired pans falling into a sink, stoves clicking off, and the urgent yells of the staff had reduced to inaudible chatter. carmy walks back into the office, and he seemingly forgot you were there, from the way he stopped in his tracks and blinked at you. he was no longer in a chef uniform, eight sets of buttons across his chest were swapped out for a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that were too tight around his calves. the shirt also was fitted around his chest despite the bagginess it held around the rest of his frame. did he have a thing for too-tight clothes? you looked up, and immediately stood from the chair, apology written across your face. “ah. sorry. syd said i could wait in here after… all that.” “yeah, no no, it’s… it’s fine. i just need, uh,” he pointed to the jacket hanging on the seat of the chair. the one you’d been half sitting-slash-leaning on, and had noted mentally that it was a pretty ugly shade of brown. “oh. yeah.” you fumble the pickup, fumble the fucking delivery, but the jacket ends back in carmy’s hands and he slides it on. only then you realize he had tattoos. all over his arms.

you’d always wanted a tattoo, maybe one of red. you’d seen other dog obsessed people on tiktok get tattoos of their dog’s paws and noses. carmy’s ink peered out from his jacket, littering his left hand in numbers and other stray marks. you sort of stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do until he speaks, “are you um— you’re sydney’s friend?” he asks, blinking voraciously. you nod. “yeah. that’s me.” theres a bit of a chuckle to it, in the hopes of the labored tension between you two will dissipate.

unfortunately it doesn’t. 

you’d heard many things about this guy, everything but his name, surprisingly. sydney had raved about him being named the ‘best chef’ in the ‘best restaurant’ in america. in socal, with the budget you had, the best you’d get was souplantation. it’s a shame they shut down. 

maybe he should win an award for most awkward man ever, you thought with a bitter edge, swallowing hard. “are you going to the bar too?” you ask. he seems almost surprised you decided to continue to talk to him and he looks behind him then back to you in rapid succession. “oh. yeah. just for, for a few.” he replied. you nod back, and jump at this newfound opportunity. “how far is it?” “huh? oh, like, a ten minute drive.” carmy responds, taking out a rung of car keys from his left pocket. perfect. you think. “do you think—” you begin, on the path to ask him for a ride, maybe you’d break the awkward silence between you two and you’d be friends. but it never happened on account of sydney walking back into the office, changed into her large trench coat and grins at you as she calls your name. “you ready? we’ll take the subway,” she nods to the door, and waits as if you were to follow. you sigh internally. oh well. maybe he’d drink enough and they’d loosen up and you could ask him if his name was really carmy and why the hell he was so mad earlier. you side step carmy with a muttered, “excuse me”, and follow sydney out the back and around the corner and to the subway. —

the bar is quaint, some local pub with local teams and references plastered from wooden mahogany wall to wooden mahogany wall. it smells strongly of beer and grease, so thickly it lays gently on your tongue and makes you immensely hungry.

sydney walks to a table in the far right corner. a tall man and very short woman sit side by side, joking as the woman grins widely. a pudgy guy with a braid sits beside— great. richie is here too, you realize with sullen realization and swallow the sour bile in your throat. he just radiated a terribly immature aura. the other side of the table were four seats, the two on the right side filled by another tall man in a beanie and beside him sat carmy. you wonder in passing how he got here so fast. “sydney! you’re late,” richie booms, beer glass in his hand. the image is crude and you cringe by the slightest. sydney scoffs playfully, rolling her eyes. “shut the fuck up richie,” she retorts. you sit on the side next to carmy and sydney takes your right. he raises his hands in mock surrender, and passes two untouched beer glasses to you and sydney, you take it slowly. you hadn’t drank since— well, since you realized why lucas acted the way he did. so you held the beer glass between you hands on the table and watched the witty banter of the staff members unfold, so natural and so familial it felt warm and fuzzy— for lack of a better, less cheesy term— in the deepest parts of your heart.

but it was broken, momentarily, by carmy standing up in a bit of an abrupt manner and muttering something along the lines of “smoke break,” and you watch him leave with some sadness. he hadn’t talked much, during the whole show, whenever he did it was a sideish chuckle or a shut the fuck up to richie. a lot of people were saying that, you realized. the break let everyone take a hearty swig from their glasses, and the silence brought the attention to you. tina— the short woman with an underlying spanish accent— asked you where you were from. “california,” you replied. “it fucking sucks out here,” you joke, and feel a sense of social accomplishment when the staff laughed alongside you. it grants you that moment of courage for you to take a sip of ‘liquid courage’. you hadn’t drank in so long. you were never a heavyweight, but the long gap between your last taste of spirit let the alcohol in the drink go immediately to your head and opened the metaphorical floodgates of your surprisingly dirty mouth and quick whips that were always the highlight of your college party experience. 

“so why’d you move out here, then, sweetheart?” [“you can’t just call people sweetheart, richie,” sydney scolded almost subconsciously, but was brushed off by richie with a wave.] you held the beer glass in both your hands, a brow lifting with the side of your mouth in a half-disgusted-half-scorned look. “um. california’s too fucking expensive?” you offer in a ploy to change the subject but he shakes his head as he follows through with his question, staring at you. “don’t believe that.” he retorted almost immediately in between a swig of beer. you glared at him. “okay, fucko. i needed a new job.” “and what are you?” “... a preschool teacher.” “not with that mouth!” ebra interjected with gibelike laughter, the other members of the beef chiming in. you had to admit, that was true. you’d always had a bit of a sailors tongue, something your fellow teachers berated you on during your days as a TA. 

“okay, okay, yeah, i have a filthy fucking mouth, but i’m still a preschool teacher.” you shrug, taking a sip with a snarky smile. “okay, but preschool teacher pay is worse in illinois.” richie pressed you. he knew there was something, you knew he wanted it out of you, like the nosy fuckin’ bitch he was. “okay, but—” “come on, what is it really?” he interrupted you with a plaguey tone of voice that made your stomach curdle and your mouth twist in an annoyed grimace. “you fuck the wrong principal? buy the wrong drugs? bad fuckin’ boyfriend?” when your grip on the glass tightens, the beer sloshing the sides at the miniscule impact, richie knows he’s won. and like the loud mouth he is, he makes it known. “oh HO, so that’s your fucking pandora’s box. come on, what kind of asshole was he? the tight assed asshole? the—” 

he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you slam your beer glass down onto the honey-washed wooden table and it spills, getting your hand and the sleeve of your puffer damp. you glare daggers into richie, the familiar javelin of rage fitting in your chest almost familiarly. “do you fucking mind? ever hear of privacy, you washed up gossip whore?” you damn near snarl, shoving the chair back as you stand and cock your head to one side. the bar had quieted; curious, nosy bystanders had taken an interest in the sudden spike of aggression and noise that radiated from you. sydney gingerly tried to lay a hand on your arm, but you pulled away from her as the pressure fell on your bicep. you didn’t mean to snap at her, but as of that moment, you’d snap at anyone. you felt cornered, like a wild animal being poked through the bars of a cage by jeering children. the teeth in your jaw ground together, and you pushed the chair back further with your legs to untangle yourself from the situation, taking long, deliberate strides to the back door, the one carmy had gone through. shoving through the heavy metal door, it didn’t take you long to find carmy. he stood a few paces away from the door, under a flickering street lamp that flirted with various winged insects. it splayed over him, illuminating the chef in harsh yet complementary light.

he looks almost surprised you’re there, a cig pursed in his lips, the case in one hand with the lighter in the other. “uh. hey,” he nods to you. was it routine for these awkward silences to find a home between you two? you nod back, the flush in your cheeks hopefully falling out. then you nod to the cigarette case in his hands. “enough to share?”

–

you two stand; around a foot or two apart, cigarettes in your mouths. one looked up and the other looked down. the sky was shittily pretty, you noted. city pollution obstructed the sight of any stars, but the neon glows of various billboards and street signs rose into the air and tinged the edges of the purple-black canvas. 

you exhaled heavily, the smoke burning your nostrils on the way out. it’d been, what— two, three months?— since you’d “quit” smoking. it didn’t fit with the whole preschool teacher-esque you needed. but tonight was just getting worse and worse and you wanted to go bash your head against the brick alleyway until god herself would come down and take you away. “richie?” he speaks, and it startles you. the cig nearly falls from your mouth, but you take it away between your index and middle finger. you look back at him, blinking then nodding slowly. he nods back in acknowledgement. “what uh– what he’d do now?” “other than be a big fucking nosy bitch, nothing, really.” you reply, taking a long drag on the cigarette, the spike in your ribs chipping away with each wash of nicotine. 

carmy makes an o with his mouth and nods again. he looked like a bird, you realized. but not in a bad way, or anything. like a flighty falcon, the kind you saw on those nature rehabilitation shows on animal planet. you just needed to hold them the right way, maybe say the right cooing words. maybe find something in common if you did that right.  you give a slight look to him from the side. the cigarette was cushioned in his lips, and while they weren't very large, from here alone you could tell they were plush pink and soft, from curve it held around the butt of the cig.

“why’d you come out then?” he asks another question, snapping you out of your creepy lip-admiration. the fact that he was asking you more questions made you think this was either progression or unsettling, but it was hard to decide. you shrug in response, however. “i was hungry, actually. burned my mac and cheese.” there was another few moments of silence, filled only with the city life of chicago and your noisy exhale, blue gray smoke tendrils curling in the air.

“i could make you somethin’.” he offers, his voice nonchalant and passive, even though his big fuckin’ eyes stared at you like he was some lost puppy.

it was kind of endearing, actually. no one had ever cooked for you. why'd it make your chest tighten pleasingly?

you laugh. “sure. one day, when you can, neighborly favor of sorts if you’re into that.” you jest, unaware he was being serious. you take another lung filling puff of the cigarette, nicotine thick in your senses. “chicago cigarettes are strong,” you remark.

he nods. “like em’ better than the new york ones.”

you raise your brows in acknowledgement. he swallows some air, not for the cigarette, you realize as he begins to speak.

“i was, uh, being serious, by the way. i fucking hate mac and cheese.”

you grin, looking over at him, the dim glow of the cigarette hanging from your lip. “me too.”

...

for more / updates go check out my ao3 !

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - chapter 2

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

c h a p t e r t w o .

Roman Godfrey

<<>>

ROMAN WAS COMPLETELY UNBOTHERED BY the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that permeated the air in Jude's room. He took the joint from her fingers like it had become his second nature, having become well-adjusted to the familiar routine after years of friendship.

Roman was splayed out on her bed as if it were his, his eyes absent-mindedly drifting from her to the television and off into orbit again.

Jude was sitting on the couch, her fiery hair braided over her shoulder, her freckled skin glowing in the light of sunset through the window. She was wearing a soft pale green cotton sweater and her cloud-print pyjama shorts. Coiled in her lap like a frail old lady, was an elderly French bulldog, snoring like a faulty engine with a face only a mother could love.

"Are you ever embarrassed?" he asked.

"Of what?" she tilted her head, her eyes glued to her phone as she scrolled through unread text messages. He noticed frown lines on her forehead as she focused on an unsaved number.

"Of owning such an ugly dog."

Roman didn't hate Minnie. Not really, but he would never admit to his unyielding love for that raggedy abomination out loud.

"If you're going to be mean to my comfort animal I will send my foot into your balls so hard it will end your bloodline," she warned him. She was joking of course, he could see it in the way she tried and miserably failed to keep a straight face.

"Comfort animal or biological weapon?" Roman snorted.

"You're horrid," she shook her head, picking up a throw pillow and hurling it in his direction. He caught it just before it could hit him in the face and ruin his princely soft brown hair, a grin flashing across his lips.

She was right and Roman was horrid. In more ways than one. In more ways than he wanted to admit, even though with her he never even needed to. The thought made him frown. Time spent puffing on cigarettes and inhaling obscene amounts of cocaine and fucking cheerleaders in his car was nothing compared to the moments where Jude could make him stop and think. To say he still wasn't a shallow and arrogant bastard around her would have been a lie, but he did care about her and he did love spending time with her. Loved.

A warm draft slid inside through the open window beside the bed, brushing the nape of Roman's neck and spoiling the impressive spiral of smoke from the joint. It was dark out now as the sky seemed to vanish, all colour swallowed by the void of starless night. Something rang out through the trees, like distorted barking mixed with a scream. It chilled him more than he cared to admit when he finally heard the sound drifting closer to the tree line.

"That's a deer, you stupid idiot" Jude laughed warmly as she caught him staring out the window with poorly concealed terror. "They do that all the time. Pretty spooky huh?"

Spooky didn't explain the way the unease felt like bugs crawling beneath his skin. He didn't find himself spooked very often, not unless he got that gut feeling.

His eyes stayed trained to the window.

"You want something to eat? I think I'll eat you if I don't eat something now," Roman changed the subject to one he deemed more urgent, mostly in an attempt to comfort himself.

"Is that you offering to bring me food? And not the other way around? You- Roman Godfrey?"

"Do you want something or not?"

"What about pizza?" she asked.

Jude had a way of making suggestions that weren't really suggestions, but in fact, were the word of law expected to be followed lest one find themselves excommunicated from her graces. Or maybe she was only like that with Roman.

"Of course your fat ass wants pizza. Let's order and I'll go pick it up. Now hand me the dog."

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" she eyed him dubiously. Minnie's eyes drifted in opposite directions as she raised her head to look at him. He was uncertain if she was seeing his face or if she could only see the space either side of him.

"I'm going to punt her across the trailer park" he said. "I'm going to take her for a drive. She'll probably die before she sees that kind of luxury if I don't"

Roman just wanted to spend time with the dog.

"Jokes on you she's immortal."

After much discourse over what toppings to order, Roman picked Minnie up in his arms, because he didn't even know if she could walk without crumbling to dust and floating away in the wind, got into his car and drove to pick up a pizza.

The day after that Jude wasn't at school.

It wasn't as out of the ordinary for her, but it was a bit annoying for him to sit by himself surrounded by other people pretending to be his friends for the benefit of his immaculate godly image.

But she wasn't at school the day after that either. And, what's more, she hadn't said a word to him. No texts, no calls- and no answer when he called her.

Then Judith Evergreen was reported missing and then Roman didn't go to school for days. He stayed in bed most of the time, only getting up to rifle through piles of clothes to find spare packets of cigarettes once a couple days turned into weeks. His mother came to his bedside and offered comfort and coaxed him to eat, despite having not been afraid to show her disdain for Jude the trailer-dwelling junkie [as Olivia would often call her].

Nothing worked to fill the void that Jude's disappearance had ripped open inside his soul. Numbness wriggled beneath his skin and bathed him in despair.

When he did go back to school, people looked. People talked.

They talked about Roman. They talked about Jude which was more than any of them had ever even thought about her. They talked about the new boy Peter who was a Gypsy. They talked about how Christina Wendall in a few grades below him started a rumour that he was a werewolf. Roman mentioned the boy to his mother whose disdain for Peter's kind became suddenly animated and so he refrained from mentioning it again.

He wondered what exactly it was that Olivia knew about the Rumanceks.

The first thing his cousin Letha did when she saw him was fly into his arms. Her blonde hair bounced as she ran to him and practically crushed him. She had always liked Jude.

No one had liked her more than Roman.

He didn't show it in public, but it ached to not have his funny red-head companion at his lunch table, or belting her stupid crappy indie music in his car, or coming over to his house to drink all his liquor and explore his absolute maze of an estate. No more cuddles with Minnie, who sat on the couch waiting until she couldn't wait any more.

Roman had gone to the trailer to check on her, Lance Evergreen passed out on the couch as always, and had been the one to find her.

Jude was gone and Minnie knew it. Roman knew it too. He knew exactly how the old crone must have felt. He buried her somewhere nice and finally allowed himself to cry.

Olivia broke the news to him the morning the body was found a month later.

She sweetened her words and spoke to him like a child, sugary sympathetic and fake but he didn't care. At first he stopped breathing. He sat still, the only sound in the room the rapid beating of his own frantic, fractured heart. Then he breathed but it was sharp and painful and tragic and suddenly he wished he hadn't let the air in. It was the first time since he was a child that Roman wept into his mother's arms- right where she wanted him.

A week passed. He did not attend the funeral.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

fun fact every time you're not running Minnie gets closer.............but you still have time bc she can't tell which direction you went and actually she doesn't give a shit

[gakucchis]

my story about ♡being cyber bullied by the love live fandom even though i didn’t do anything♡

this has nothing to do with obey me and i doubt anyone will read this but.. who wants to know the story about how the whole love live fandom in 2017 was bullying and harassing me?? alright alright calm down everybody if you wanna know sooo badly

my account name for ig back then was dagashimanga/honokasmanjuu. i really just wanted an account to share my love live obsession with and shitpost.

if you were around back then, you remember the most famous love live confessions account on ig and all the DRAMA it came with. like so so much went down there it was hilarious. anyway, i was friends with one of the admins, her user was christmas.eli.

she was like one of my first internet friends. i live in germany and she lived in france, so sometimes we’d talk like the whole night. we were super close.

until… KAYLEE happened.

now, if you were around back then… you know who tf that is!! it was a (presumably) 10-13 year old girl who would have tons of accounts (talking 20+), all very girly and feminine, super pink, etc. she would either wanna be your friend or hate you to death, and often times when you wouldn’t become her friend or wouldn’t do the right thing, she’d hate you, stalk you, harass you, everything. blocking her didn’t work.

so, one day, i was her victim. idk how it started, but something set her off. she harassed me, texted me, created an account called honokasmanjuuu and copied my posts word for word lmao

a few days later, i took a nap and woke up to see my ig BLOWING up. what the hell happened? well, kaylee fabricated a screenshot of the worst thing you could do in the love live fandom: scam someone of their sif account. she sent it to the love live confessions account for awareness, and guess who approved and posted it? my dear christmas.eli!

my account was full of people telling me how horrible i am, how i deserve to die, etc. people found my private, real life account, commenting there, using my pictures and spreading them (mind you i was 14), telling me how ugly i am, how ugly my art is, even photoshopping me on a pig lmao

i texted christmas.eli and told her it was fake and asked her why she would do this to me instead of talking to me first. she absolutely hated me and told me to block her. my irl best friend (to this das mwuah) even tried explaining it to her but she didn’t want to hear any of it. the bullying got so bad, i deactivated any accounts i had — it was full on cyber bullying. i couldn’t listen or watch anything love live related because it was so traumatizing at the time.

i created new accounts, where one girl even texted me, and after talking to her she trusted me and felt sorry for me, before also turning on me and telling the confessions account my new user. i quickly deleted the account and started anew, without anyone except my irl friends and like 2-3 mutuals.

funny thing though: my new account actually grew quite a bit, and one day, christmas.eli followed me even. nobody knew who i really was because i kept private information at bay and started using an internet name (which, to this day!!, is ria ♡). and… i actually became her friend again, acting like i was someone else lmao.

she was close with two other girls, all three had big accounts, and one day the other two girls posted a screenshot of my account because i said something along the lines of most men only using male sa victims to minimize female sa victim awareness (which is true!). they called me a sexist who doesn’t care about male sa which is just as bad.. girl where did i say that….. anyway, i was only bullied for a day so ig it’s okay!

if you’ve read this far, wow, congrats. if you know me from back then (dagashimanga, honokasmanjuu, gakucchis and now gakuwucchis (you can follow me, but not very active)) let me know! also let me know if you bullied me too, no hard feelings unless you’re one of the three girls. because then i wish you hell on earth!

[hopelesswrites]

Midnight - Joseph Quinn pt. 3

Joe makes promises to you to make things right. 

18+ MDNI, smut!!!!

(I really wanted to give you a happy ending but their relationship is still a little rocky, so I give more Joe being a dickhead. Can they fix things now? idk lmao.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

-

The next couple days were spent laying in bed curing your hangover. To be fair, the first day was because of your hangover, but the other two days of sulking were purely because of Joe. All you wanted was a call, a text, a knock at your door but as the days go on your confidence in that diminishes. He’s gone, swooped up by Hollywood and pretty models and out of your life.

Come Thursday you decide you can’t keep brooding away, you have to shake it off and go to work. So for the rest of the week you busy yourself with work, staying back and doing overtime just so you don’t have to think about Joe. Your boss also said you had a lot to catch up on, so that kept you occupied.

Friday evening came by quickly and you were finishing up your extended day at work, ready to head home. You were scared to go home, knowing the weekend would bring two more days of staying in bed feeling sad and sorry for yourself. Part of you was ready to welcome those feelings back, the more productive part desperately wanted it to be over, that you’d wake up tomorrow morning feeling great, maybe go for a run, visit the local bakery for a proper substantial breakfast for once this week, no thought of Joe crossing your mind.

As you made your way home you kept your mind on that bakery. How good it would feel to get out of the house. How much you need to go for that run, let the cold morning air hit your face, maybe knock some damn sense into you. Joe was in the deep depths of your mind now, no longer causing a tight feeling in your chest like he had for the first half of the week.

Your flatmate was at the front door when you arrived home, she looked anxious as she paced back and forth across the small front patio.

“Thank god you’re here” She sighed once you came into view.

“I tried to tell him to fuck off but he was so persistent, barged his way in”

Your stomach sank, you didn’t need any more information, it was him. You really didn’t want to face him, the reality of it hitting you finally. He was going to end all communication, completely reject you and leave you alone forever. You didn’t want that.

Walking through the hall and to your bedroom, you see him sitting on your bed through the crack in the door. His head snaps up at the sound of your door opening, a stunned look plastered on his face.

“Hi” He said quietly, watching as you dropped your bag down and stood by the door, keeping your distance.

“I didn’t know your work schedule so I waited” He tried again, but you didn’t know what to say. Part of you didn’t want to start talking at all, getting closer to the end tugged at your heart.

“I want to apologise” He sighed, getting up and slowly inching closer, he had a way of manipulating you so subtly, getting what he wanted without you noticing until its too late. It infuriated you, made you hate him so much, hate how much you loved him regardless.

“Go on then” You answered, eyes trained to the floor, Joes eye contact was too strong.

“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did the other night, I care about you and was so worried, I didn’t think about how cruel I had been”.

You watched Joes feet shuffle, his ugly shoes making you frown, you distinctly remember telling him not to buy them.

“I also want to apologise for the way I’ve treated you over the past year, it’s not been fair on you and I cant keep stringing you along”

‘Here we go’ you think.

“Things are different in my life, and I don’t want to lose you, I want you in my life, but that means things have to change a bit”.

You looked up after hearing his last line, falling into the depths of his sad sorrowful eyes. He had you, you were trapped, it made you feel sick.

Joe reached out and grasped your hand in his, tugging you closer forcing you to look up at him.

“Let me do things right, let me take you out, I’ve got a premiere to go to tomorrow night, I want you with me.”

You didn’t give it a second thought, head nodding viscously, agreeing to whatever Joe wanted from you. The spell he had cast on you was in no time lifting, you could feel that.

-

The next evening you were dressing up in your best dress, most uncomfortable heels, hair and face all done up. You were simply excited, happy to finally feel like you were a part of Joes new life. There was no time to feel silly, or manipulated, what could go wrong?

Joe arrived to pick you up, dressed in all black. Not too dissimilar to the getup he had on a few months ago when he came to visit you. He was hot, you thought, there was no way you’d be getting through the night with him looking like that. He took your hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze before guiding you down to the car waiting, he had a god damn private driver. You ignored the feeling that gave you, the feeling of not belonging, because you were with Joe, you belonged with him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Joe whispered in your ear as you got out of the car, arriving at the venue.

“A few times. Can’t go wrong with a couple more though” You replied, eyeing off the crowd in front of you. People were arriving in all sorts of fancy cars, dressed in stunning gowns and suits. Security guided guests around, into the building, off to the side where you noticed a red carpet, this was an official thing, still that feeling of not belonging got pushed to the side, Joe had you close, you belonged.

His arm snaked around your waist firmly, another reassuring squeeze as you were both guided off to the side, the red carpet.

“I’m going to take a few photos, bosses orders, why don’t you wait for me down the end?” Joe said, removing his grip on you and motioning down behind the carpet, out of camera view. You agreed, making your way down the path where you noticed a group huddled by the door at the other end, you concluded this was where managers and escorts waited, unfamous guests.

You struggled to ignore the anxiety you began to feel without Joe by your side, you didn’t belong here anymore, this wasn’t your crowd and you just needed him back beside you, holding you tight to get you through this whole night.

It wasn’t long before you saw the man make his way off the carpet and back to you, he offered you a small smile, and took your hand in his again. You tried to ignore the lack of a squeeze this time, but it ate at the insecurity you felt inside.

Inside the building people chatted and drank, waiting for the theatre to open up. Joe was quick to grab two drinks for the both of you and manoeuvre his way through the crowd until he was stopped. A tall woman tapped his shoulder, greeting him like old friends. You watched as they laughed and chatted, you beside Joe, your hand he once held forgotten. More people approached him, more greetings, not one towards you. You did not belong here.

When the theatre doors opened Joes hand lay flat on the small of your back guiding you in, no longer wrapped around you like before. His dismissal of you hurt, it felt worse than any ignoring he had been doing previously, you were finally in his world and you were still invisible.

The screening was painful to sit through. Joes fingers fiddled with the fabric of your dress cascading over your thigh until the end credits played. Before anyone got up Joe was whisking you away and out of the theatre into the lobby, his hand now grasping your wrist rather than your hand.

“What’s wrong?” You asked watching as he looked around, he looked frantic.

“Here” He replied pulling you towards a bathroom, locking the door after you had entered.

Without explanation you were slammed against the door, Joes mouth falling to your neck in quick harsh sucks and bites, he was ravenous.

“Joe what is-“

His lips came up quick, swallowing your sentence in a kiss, his teeth scrapping over your lip as he pulled away and resumed his assault to your throat.

“Been dying to have you all night Baby” Joe mumbled against your skin, his hands roaming over your backside, bunching the dress up and slotting a clothed leg between yours.

The pressure elicited a content sigh from you, Joes grip now firmly on your hips, guiding you to grind on his leg. The pleasure forced all rationality out of your brain as you submitted to the man you loved.

“You’ll have to be quiet for me, okay?” Joe groaned as he twisted you around so your chest was against the tile, ass out.

You listened for the sound of his belt buckle, but it never came. Instead, you got a harsh slap to the ass followed by Joes quick fingers rubbing you through your panties. You fought off a loud moan as electricity shot through your body. Joe pressed up against you, his lips finding purchase on the sensitive skin behind your ear, his hot breathe creating goosebumps over your skin. His fingers stopped their movement to pull his own pants down, the feeling of his skin against yours almost sending you over the edge. It felt pathetic, to be so affected by him, to need him as much as you did.

Joe rubbed himself against your entrance testing the waters by pushing in a little and pulled out. You eagerly waited for what you were craving so much, to feel him completely, but it never came.

“Lets get these off yeah?” Joe mumbled, tapping your foot with his own before leaning down and gentle pulling your heels off your feet. The relief was almost as good as the sex itself, but with your height difference from the lack of shoes Joe was quick to resume his movements, slipping in effortlessly, his hand snaking around your face, covering your mouth before he began thrusting. The pleasure was overbearing, Joes small grunts in your ear sending shockwaves through your body. You couldn’t see him but you knew the blissed out look on his face, could picture it, and it got you through to your own orgasm, legs quivering as the coil snapped and you let yourself go all too quickly.

Joes movements became sloppy and you knew he was close.

“Let me” You whispered, turning around and dropping to your knees, swatting his hand away pumping him a couple times, tongue out ready to catch his load.

“Fuckfuckfuck” A string of curses left his swollen lips as he released above you. You took everything he gave you, quite happily as embarrassing as it was, and watched him come back to above you. His chest rising and falling, a small trickle of sweat sliding down his temple, his eyes screwed shut still. You wanted him to look down at you, smile at you, give you anything but he stood back, tucking himself back into his pants, head thrown back as he let out a shaky sigh.

Your heart sank, even in such an intimate moment he was ignoring you.

“That’s it huh?” You frowned, gaining his attention again.

Joe looked at you confused, “Didn’t you come? I thought-“

You cut him off with a laugh, “You just don’t get it!” You raised your voice as you stood up, slipping your shoes back on. “Or you do get it and just don’t care” That was what worried you the most, being nothing to Joe and him being actively aware of it. Actively making you aware of it.

“I come out here with you, surround myself in an environment I’m not comfortable in to make YOU happy, and you blow a load in the bathroom like we’re goddamn teenagers.”

Joe stuttered out useless apologies, but you couldn’t care to listen to them.

“I’m going to go now, don’t follow me, I’m serious” You spoke sternly, watching him carefully, worried he might reach out, touch you and break you down again. “And don’t contact me, I think we’re done”.

[verycharismaticdragon]

On Air Island - chapter 3 - part 8

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catching up: ch.1 [full video] - ch.2 p.1 - story so far [transcript]

other: [character guide] - [to avoid sp⊘ilers]

Uh-oh? Somehow we are at the end of chapter 3 already? When I didn't come up with anything to wrap it up with yet?! What do I do?......

Um, first, let's get to today's episode! And I think this one kinda warrants a warning for internet hate verging on cyberbullying... it's not as severe as in some other parts of the game, but it doesn't hurt to at least be mentally prepared. All of it is contained to the chat, btw; it doesn't come up in the dialogue. With this in mind, let's tune in!

(the transcript is available below the poll, under keep reading)

Aaaand that's it for chapter 3! The plot thickens?........ Anyway, chapter 4 tomorrow, hopefully returning to the (utc +0) 3pm/15:00 timeslot.

As for the poll, actually, let me roll you a question about the format. In the last couple episodes, I did alternative translations for quite a few messages in the chat, and I'm not super happy with how I currently add them to the video (as an additional line when the message in question pops up). The possible solutions I came up with are: (1) directly 'replacing' the relevant messages with the alt tl in the video, while keeping the og tl in the transcript for those interested; (2) not adding the alt tls to the video at all, and only adding them to the transcript. To make this decision, I have two questions:

Transcript legend:

In-game text

Character speaking: dialogue line

regular chat message Donation: donation message

available donation messages

{ Alternative translation }

|| 🏅 award (achievement) collected ||

———— ———— ————

Alice: Hanse! Hanse, say something!

[player] donated 80 Ordinary Spade: I am all ears

Hanse: I, I...

Hanse: I'm here to say hello to many of you. { I came here because I wanted to say hello to many people. }

BeMySon: Ah… iceice33: cries Amouth: My heart hurts…

Hanse: I haven't really had a chance to do any personal activities. { Actually, I didn't have many opportunities to do individual activities. }

island: ugly sobs GeeksWay: Tears falling… KingCry: That’s right… He got no popularity compared to his looks and skills… sigh

Hanse: I'm really happy to be able to come out here and tell my story and communicate with many people in real time.

CatProf: Hanse is too kind… NoHanse: Haha, the renewal contract period is almost up, and they come out acting all confident. { lmao you came here because contract renewal is near and you're walking the tightrope, yet you speak so flashily. } onlyyou: The agency openly promotes other idols but leaves Hanse out. 1pmhanse: I am upset with how they treat him, he is a leader but got small part and everything, it just doesn’t make sense { yeah im mad that as the leader, he works a ***ton but they only give him small parts;;;; } IKnowHim: It’s funny how they blame him for the controversy in personality {lol it went downhill because of the controversy about his personality, whose fault is that} GetLost: The lack of popularity due to his looks and skills, lol. It’s all the agency’s fault { hes not popular because hes got no looks and no skills lmao. the agency’s fault lmao. }

Ezra: So, yeah, it must have been pretty upsetting at the end. { Then, you must have been very upset when the rankings were announced. }

Crack: It seems like the 213 fans can’t enjoy without blaming someone else { lmao lhs fans can't be fans if they don't blame others lol } OnlyYou: Even though the controversy was clarified and proven false, they keep bringing up old stuff. BeMySon: What’s with **? DropOut: Honestly, there’s no need to criticize. His popularity is **, so nobody even knows him, yet they’re still trying to insult him? 

Jin: … … … … …

BestSolo: Please don't use offensive language here.  ek_98_ke: If you don't like it, just move on. Why bother going to his personal broadcast to insult him?  GodIdol: At this point, he/she is just a fan  CloseEye: I will report everything!  So_yool: Laws are laws, and anti-fans are still considered fans.  Boring: <This message has been deleted by Cleanbot>

Hanse: Well… ... I can't help but feel upset and upset because my first result was last. { Um…… I couldn't help but feel upset and disappointed that my first result was last place. } 

Hanse: I just wanted to show my fans something good and do well.

Buddy23: sobbing real hard  HsWAVE: Don't be too sad  hanseria: My heart aches… moemoe: What's important now is stand our self up! { Now is when it really matters! Let's increase our efforts! } forreal: #Hanse #Sorry #WeAreSorry YDD: Let's try our best!

Ezra: Don't worry, Hanse. If you don't make any mistakes, you'll be fine until the end.

DUMMY: ? hansame: Eh? winkhans: What an obvious thing...

Hanse: What?

Ezra: It's a pun. I thought your name was A ONE? The only one, or the last one... or the last one. { It's a play on words. I heard your stage name is A ONE? The one and only, or the last one standing… that’s what it feels like. }

bANA: Oooh ABChanse: It's meaningful. Flos: So, the conclusion is that you'll support Hanse, right? LookOnly: It's something... really... touching... It feels like you're trusting Hanse...

Jin: That's a very positive interpretation.

Ezra: Just what you need when you're overwhelmed. 

Alice: Hmph......! I'm impressed!

oc'mon: cries dl61300: tears falling PorkSoup: I just become a girl crying in the middle of the night urnothot: Cheer up Hanse! Imfather: We'll never give up too HeIsKing: Let's stand together!

Ezra: Ahaha……  

Ezra: So, cheer up, Hanse.

island: Cheer charmse: Up HalfWMoo: Cheer HeIsGod: He suddenly spoke informally? danchu1: Up PinThief: Ahh— 

Hanse: ... ... ... ... ...!

???: aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

ABChanse: ?! IloveHim: Wh-what? outnow: What voice?1!? { What did I just hear? } ANINEFAN: It was like a scream? hihihan: ??????

Alice: Hic...

Alice: Ba, ba, what was that......?! { Wh-wh-what was that just now…?! }

KimPearl: Really huge { It was so loud } DevilMan: It sounded like a man's voice  hottest: What?? What is actually going on? imnewon: Hanse are you okay?

Jin: If I'm not mistaken, that sounded like Naoto's voice......

Ezra: Mm~ It sounded like that to my ears too.

hihihan: ??? im_thief: Whut BeASolo: Naoto? yummy99: Come to think of it, it's unseen { Come to think of it, we haven’t seen him } ChohiGod: Where is he going? { Where did he go? }

Alice: But we have a range of behaviour, don't we? { But there's a set boundary for where we can be, right?! }

Ezra: Why did the voice come from outside the base camp?

KimBokC: Didn't he go somewhere? MyBaby: Naoto is breaking the rules and going somewhere? It's fishy OhYeah: ikr, and it's Naoto not even Mr. Fact Uaenaa: I think there must be something

Jin: … … … … …

Hanse: Ooh, shouldn't we check it out first?

LockHim: Yeah OnlyFact: Confirm it BeASolo: No! Hanse will be in danger too then! hanyise: If there are some disadvantages from going out then let's refrain yummy99: Donations are not important now, someone's life is more important [player]: Let's go check it out right now.

[necromancy-savant]

Multiples of 3 for book asks!

3. what is your preferred genre?

My preferred genre is the stuff you find in the nonfiction section that's all myths and poems

6. do you track the books you read? if so, how?

Nope; never occurred to me

9. do you have a favorite author?

John Milton \m/

12. which book will you read next?

Probably The Two Towers bc I read Fellowship, loved it, and then got distracted by like 5 other books. I need to finish reading Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion

15. have you been/are you in a book club?

I was in a Shakespeare club in grad school! I brought in the production of David Tennant's R2 for us to watch that @skeleton-richard introduced me to

18. do you have any rules if you loan someone a book?

I mean don't write on it or like intentionally be rough on it?

21. do you prefer to read or listen?

Read. I watch everything with subtitles if I can

24. what book to movie adaptation to you dislike?

I mean one time I saw some Iliad adaptation that didn't even have the gods and was boring af but I don't remember what it was. And one time I saw about 10 minutes of some CGI Beowulf bc it was so ugly I had to turn it off

27. is there a book that scared you?

Yes. Well, recently I was having a bit of trouble sleeping thinking about the demons in Camp Damascus, but also I used to stay up late in high school reading my giant Edgar Allan Poe book and then I could never sleep. I don't even remember which ones were the scariest. There was one about a coffin on a boat that fucked me up and wasn't even that scary.

30. is there a book that changed your life?

Phantom of the Opera, then Paradise Lost, then Richard III, and I think now The Locked Tomb

33. what was your favorite childhood book?

Redwall

36. what’s the most you’ve reread a book?

I literally have no fucking clue. I've memorized all of Richard III's lines in that play. I lost count of the number of times I've read Paradise Lost about 10 years ago. I can predict the next words in my translation of Phantom and read it in its original language just because I know what it's going to say, I know all the words to Earnest and Julius Caesar, I have no clue how many thousands of times I've read Enuma Elish or Ishtar's Descent to the Underworld or anything else I've every tried or had to translate. Basically I read the same few books and stories over and over and over and over and

39. favorite quote from your favorite book?

Be then his Love accurst, since love or hate, To me alike, it deals eternal woe. Nay curs'd be thou; since against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable! which way shall I flie Infinite wrauth, and infinite despaire? Which way I flie is Hell my self am Hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threatning to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n.

42. do you buy new or secondhand books?

I have so many books I got for free from the grad school English department that they were literally just giving away. I got a whole Faerie Queene that way. I got a complete Chaucer's works that way. One time I went in and some students were going through stuff and I was like "yo is that a fascimile of Poetaster??!!" and my classmate said, "here, it's yours: it should go to someone who will love it" and I was in Heaven

45. thoughts on separating the author from the work?

So...this gets into so much internet discourse and so much discourse within critical theory over the last like 40 years. Basically, yes, historical context matters and knowing who an author was as a person can give some insight into a text, but I'm also not going to give a currently living author money whom I don't want to support. You should read problematic stuff from hundreds of years ago to learn your history; hell, I'd venture to say that if you can do so without giving them money, you should read problematic shit written recently and today to know what it looks like and learn to draw your own conclusions

48. what book would you give someone if they wanted a glimpse into your psyche?

Richard III

[practicecourts]

20 questions

thanks @charmsandtealeaves & @wearingaberetinparis for the tag. I'm not sure how interesting the answers will be so I'm cutting the post here ;-)

How many works do you have on AO3? 20

2. What's your total A03 words count? 215,620

3. What fandoms do you write for? HP

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

a) Not the Doctor Crazy texting Muggle AU, oneshot, meet-awkward ridiculousness ;-) b) Head Over Handlebars For You Muggle meet ugly, Amsterdam, bicycles, Geese, the WIP that got out of control, only 1 more real chapter and 1 epilogue to go... c) It Was A Clear Black Night, A Clear White Moon - Hogwarts, oneshot roaming outside the castles on a Full Moon. I do love this story a lot myself, so I'm happy to see it here! I like to combine something serious and with something lighter. d) Shall We Shag Now Or Later? Rated M, Not inspired by Austin Powers BUT I did have a great time looking up those ridiculous scenes and dialogues. Classic crazy movie! Order Mission gone wrong, Jily forced to go under cover (wriggles eyebrows) e) When it Tastes so Damn Good another @jilychallenge oneshot, prompt along the lines of melting icecream - let's share... 5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES!!! I LOVE comments, incredible to have evidence someone read something I thought up and wrote and then left a comment telling me what it made them feel or just to say they liked it. IT IS AMAZING !! all caps worthy amazing. I do turn of notifications now for those because I became too addicted, so now I try to check once every so often. I do intend to answer all of them.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angtiest ending? My saddest ending is probably Silent Night (it's not Jily but a series of moments in the life of Hope Lupin) There's quite some bits that I've written for it, but I'm not sure if they are coherent as chapters, so there's only 2 currently posted. Angst versus sad, I'd have to say my microfic Jockey has the angstiest ending, but mostly because I know what is going on) and I promise the end of the whole fic (if I ever get to writing it, won't be angsty)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I love happy endings... I'm hoping to succeed with bringing HOH to a satisfactory happy end. I think I will. Most of my one-shots also have a happy or hopeful ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? No

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind? Ha, I thought I'd never... but for a writing challenge I wanted to join due to severe FOMO (i'm only human) I did, and I rewrote that into Shall we Shag Now or Later (Idk if anyone wants to know but I literally took almost all the time available thinking of REASONS why my jily would end up in smut pall position and in the end joked I'd just start of with *low voice* "Hey, Evans, we should shag," and take it from there... This turned into M-rated smut (I'm a little foggy on the difference between E and M still) also not sure what constitutes *kinds* of smut, but that 2 shot was more Smut with little plot. By now my wip Jily who really suffered from a lot of sexual unreleased tension finally got some release, so there's some Smut with plot as well, these days (HOHFY)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Nope, I don't think I will (unless a certain type of AU would count as a cross over)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope, not that I'm aware of, I'd be appalled and also absolutely flabbergasted if someone would go to the trouble, tbh.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope again, I might translate my own fic in Dutch (although that would be so incredibly weird that I don't actually mean this)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No, but it sounds fun. I am soon adding my 3 line to the express.... there's that ;-)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Jily, lames, Limes. 15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Life's a beach and then you dive. I want to rewrite it. I've again not outlined this fic very much, but I've so many plans... Maybe, I should ideally have a time turner to add a few hours to my days. bc I now realise how much work it would need to write it up how I want it to be lol. But there's some very personal stuff in there so who knows. I do like to finish stuff that I've started so... I hope i will, i'm not sure of it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Ok, disclaimer as I'm Dutch I'm very bad at this. BUT ... channeling inner Sirius Black: I'm good at making characters feel realistic, I'm good a little plot twist at the end, at humour (which is of course entirely personal) , I'm good at sneaky throwbacks to canon, I'm relatively good at looking at my own work with a critical eye and improving myself, as well as letting go of things that are * good enough* as they are, as this is * a fun hobby* (anyone want to share what they like about my writing - or what they think I could improve on, tell me in the comments )

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Thinking I'll do more in the time I have... and not outlining, I've tried honestly, but I've not found a way that really works yet, but still I have these huge fic ideas creep up on me, so Ideally I'd like to get way better at following some sort of outline instead of discovering my way through it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As I'm not a native English speaker and my fic HOHFY is set partly in Amsterdam there's some Dutch dialogues * i never even bothered to translate them, I'm so sorry. I'm currently also putting some French in my secret finish before posting fic, that will take a while though and it's only tiny bits as it's more the odd word here and there.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I never posted anything for it, but my first fanfic ideas were set in Tortall (Tamora Pierce) who knows, one day I might venture over there.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Here Comes The Sun I've recently got a lot of lovely comments on fics that weren't less than a week old (yeah!) and reread this one for Myster May because of it & enjoyed it a lot (idk, I don't do favourites, not really.) But I can see quite a few of my own strengths in this one so I'm putting it up here as a fave.

Tagging if you're not already been asked a million times and feel like doing this, no pressure at all, xx @chierafied @chiechie97 @tiffanytoms @oneofthesirens @suzyq31 @ohmygodshesinsane @jfleamont @uncertainwallflower

[haejjoon]

had an absolutely bonkers day at work SO i reread the 5th chapter and immediately!! crops watered skin moisturiser anxiety gone im feeling so good now woah...........

moments i absolutely adore: goro knowingly utilizing gap moe, goro imitating ryuji and ryuji laughing with it, goro unused to being bickered over by HIS FRIENDS, the neat-o explanation for changing clothes in the metaverse, robin & ryuji, goro being a nerd and also loving the praise he gets but not allowing himself to bask in it for long, AKIRA

my bby is here again ive missed him 🥺🥺🥺 i love how nicely him appearing ties into with THE FOOL, because he sorta is one yeah? it's like a little nod to the canon p5 (where thematically akira can be said to be the fool, gaining enlightment and spirituality via his bonds as the game progresses; but also where yaldabaoth is the fool confidant AND is the one behind akira in the swap au). it's also a little 👀👀👀 with how goro unlocks the fool confidant the moment akira comes into the picture, like it's not just the ryuji-ann-morgana group who are the fool confidant for goro, akira is a necessary element there as well. also is goro suspecting something with those CLANG CLANG chains and cards? is he tying them to specific people in his mind and will he (mistakenly) tie the fool to akira?

um also i love love love what you do with the text formatting in those BREAKETH THY CHAINS sequences, it's very cool! and when you change the text in there a little bit, like turning "chains of captivity" into "captive" and then evolving it into "you are held captive" like woah...... foreshadowing!!

then the entire sequence of goro trying to understand why does he hate akira so much. lmao omg "he's so annoying and his smile is not ugly at all and also his lashes are soooo long. god what a fucking dick" goro babe please skdjeindosndj im very curious as to who will be the first to understand and acknowledge their feelings to the other. goro or akira akira or goro. goro is emotionally constipated akira is babygirl murderer place your bets

and then!!! goro immediately becoming suspicious bc of akira's slip up. it's going to bite everyone in the ass of course we know that but i can just FEEL how narratively satisfying it will be when everyone will write goro's suspicions off, like "nah goro's just got a hateboner for him" like ahhhh goro you're so correct but your actions and biases have led you here the cliff of your own doing

and then sojiro scene. the entirety of it. goro scrambling to fall back on some tried and true approach except sojiro's having none of that because HE. GENUINELY. CARES. poor monamona that whole breakdown and crying must've been so awkward for him

thank you again!!! ill keep saying it every time haha sorry this got so long im just. loving your work so much. truly a labor of love <33 hope you have a good day!!

before i say anything else, tumblr user nugylienshyd your asks are probably the very highlight of my days. i get SO giddy whenever i see your username pop up. im sorry i coudln't get to you until just now it's been such a day but (cracks knuckles)

GORO UTILIZING GAP MOE WAS SUCH A THROWAWAY LINE I WONT LIE HSKGLSD i was trying to figure out how to have him explain the difference between Pleasant Boy and Aspiring Axe Murderer and then i went wait. there's a term for this. gap moe. goro imitating ryuji also made me ugly laugh as all hell when the idea popped up into my mind because he would do that, wouldn't he.

AKIRAAAAA i'm glad you noticed the formatting ehe <3 ive said this before and i'll say it again, people need to utilize formatting more in fics!!! just because you're using words to create art doesn't mean you can't add a visual aspect to it as well!!! THE FOOL coinciding with akira's sudden appearance will forever be high point for my pride. i'm super happy with it. i'm glad you liked it too <3 (also your point about the phantom thieves somehow being incomplete and then akira appearing right when the bond formed is a neat one. i didn't mean to make it that way but damn thats an idea [writes down])

goro being a hater is another thing people need to use more often. listen its cute when he's like "akira :) responded to my date request hehe ok time to go to kichijoji" but its CUTER when he goes "look at this pathetic loser. he agreed to go on a date with me after Just One Text. this troglodyte. this buffoon" (asked him out in the first place)

and about goro immediately noticing akira's slip up!!!! of course he would. his entire thing is being Clever after all <3 iv ealso mentioned this in the past but i always found it so weird that ryuji and ann somehow picked up on pancakes so quickly? like these two are canonically the dumb blondes of the group..... and ur telling me... that they not only paid enough attention to morgana/akechi's words (ryuji SPECIFICALLY, who doesn't even like the two all that much at that point in time) to make the pancakes connection, but they ALSO remembered it enough to recall it to every new thief that joined their party??? really???????

im glad you liked the sojiro scene. it was honestly and truly such a long time coming, and they kind of... needed it? it was the only way goro could understand where sojiro was coming from, at least to me. goro's instinctive reaction to any unnatural behaviors is to lash out until the other person goes away or fights right back--both of which would be beneficial to him, at least in his perspective, because the strange threat is gone and he's back in his safe, lonely bubble. it's also why he was so taken aback when sojiro just... took it. he didn't expect him to agree. he didn't know what to do when he did.

thank you for such a well thought out ask, man <3 i did see this earlier last night, but i was in such a funk the whole day i couldn't collect my thoughts enough to respond to it properly until now. i hope your day's going well too. until next time <3

[cishetamine]

all about andi

“she pulls harder than anyone i know—“

“and she doesn’t even realize that she’s pulling!”

“every time she has gone out, she makes out with someone. People just don’t do that. ugly people just don’t *do* that!”

“the blue line is one of the most hated trains in chicago”

“i worked for sustainability”

“when i worked in boston, we would race the T back from work—and we would beat it probably 50% of the time!

like no, that should NOT be happening.”

“how is he still occupying that much of your brain space?!”

“you know what would fix that? if she realized how hot she is!”

“i’m gonna text andi right now and say she’s sexy”

“we should both text her at the exact same time”

“wait let me pull out my phone”

“ready”

“wait not to the groupchat—”

“3, 2, 1, go!”

“that was good, that was good.”

ANDI TEXTS BACK [i can see the recipient’s phone screen in the corner of my eye]:

> was it some type of dare

> why am i so sexy

andi andi andi.

when we went out — we were literally leaving loretta’s

and a guy stopped her and asked for her number!

i can’t even get men to buy me drinks when i’m TRYING to get a drink!

i don’t even need it but i want it—sometimes i need that boost

so my coworkers friend who came with us

lesbian

wait what

and i said ma’am?

i—such a—it’s a strong choice.

your roommate/friend

it’s like a hard slur, like a hard f

it sounds it like you’re saying it the exact same way people use it to oppress people

if i feel hurt by it, you’re using it incorrectly!

was talking about it with andi and how when harry styles had that huge photoshoot

called it the f[indecipherable]ation of men

energy  that i need james to have

understanding context of use—

i feel like being friends with andi has made me actually better abt speaking my mind about things

i love andi.

she was like

has anyone ever said anything abt me?

if anything it’s come out of like concern about [her ex-boyfriend]

i’ve never heard a good story about that guy

every time you talk about him he sounds worse and worse!

it sounds very emotionally toxic

not that i’ve heard and certainly not that i’ve said

the only thing i’ve ever said abt you behind yr back was me being concerned abt your relationship!

have you ever actually met taylor?

i’ve only heard good things!

she is…my favorite bitch in the world.

[x-lovely]

11/24 & 11/25

went on a “date.”

TLDR: date with a dumbass who had many red flags (bad breath, lied about age, cocky, arrogant) so not interested in him anymore

he was 6′2, paki, glasses, looked charming, honda civic, “director” of the hospital, great smile. his profile said he was 29. 

we met up and just chatted. the amount of arrogance and cockiness threw me off immediately. he was down for marriage and children in the long run, laid down his plans for his future wife and what he wanted. i was just vibing. 

eventually, i got into his car and we talked some more. i eventually asked to hold his hand (consented). nothing much happened. we just teased each other verbally through dirty talking. i was mainly quiet. i hated his energy. he made me feel weird and i couldn’t breathe. it’s weird. i wanted to be there but at the same time, i didn’t want to be there. he just kept questioning everything and had weird responses to what i said and his facial expressions were throwing me off. he made me feel on the edge, like i was walking on thin ice. it reminded me of my korean ex from 2019 who emotionally abused me. anyways - 

eventually, things got heated and i asked him to kiss me (consented). sweet jesus, when i say... his breath smells like ass.... it smelled like ASS. it smelled so fucking bad i wanted to fucking vomit. he had the nerve to throw in some tongue. i had to back away. he leaned in for more but i played it off. his breath smelled so fucking bad. he had black coffee and vaped something before we kissed. my energy was not there anymore. bad breath is something that turns me off so easily. 

we talked some more. eventually, i wanted to go home. we got out of the car, he towered over me and leaned in for a kiss (jesus fucking christ, his breath still smelled horrible). gave him a quick peck and left. 

i was incredibly horny the morning after so i would still rate the “date” a 5/10. 

11/25

went to eat kpot with him. sat in the car again. he was on his phone. kept saying weird dumb shit and comments about my responses. said ni hao. i don’t like that shit. i’m asian, sure but don’t say ni hao. he was confused why i got mad. he called shows like greys anatomy and game of thrones dumb. gave me a half ass hug. lmao ok. we went in to kpot, i did all of the cooking (he had said prior that he usually does it, but idc). he asked me my salary. asked about my personal relationship with my sister. uh, not really any of your business yet. he paid the bill. i had offered twice to split or cover tip. thank you for that. I OFFERED HIM A MINT AND HE DIDN’T TAKE IT. eventually, i said i felt awkward and tense with him and once again, he questioned it and said i need to figure out what it is or else it won’t work (something along those lines). then he had the nerve to say “if you didn’t read the first line of my bio, i’m actually 24″ i’m like HUH? IT SAID 29. HOW CAN YOU LIE AND SAY 24. Then he was being defensive saying is age really a problem? i’m like, uh it’s not but like if i filtered my searches for someone older, then i kinda fucking expected someone older than me. either way, he gave me a kiss goodbye (his breath didn’t smell, thank god) and i went home. 

i would rate that date a 3/10. the texts are also hella dry. 

red flags: his BREATH, his personality and his lies? he would say one thing and then it turns out to be something completely different. he sounded so cocky i hated it. “i work when i want. i work 100+ hours. i drive a lambo, jk shows up in a honda civic. i work more than you. i make more money than you. i love myself so much.” LMAOOOOOOO okay eventually, i realized he was ugly as fuck and looked like a character from the veggie tales. and he was like “there goes your awkward laugh again” well maybe because you make me feel awkward

after meeting him, i realized something. i do not know about marriage, i do not know about children, i like to be independent, his breath smells like fucking ass, i smelled fucking great and i knew it, and it was soooooooooo not worth it. in the long run, we will not work out and i’m glad it will not. he poked at my insecurities and was super sarcastic. not interested. good luck to him with everything! 

anyways - back to grey’s anatomy & cuddling with my teddy bear <3

[murdrdocs]

hi Icarus! I was wondering if I could get your advice on something. So, I have this friend of mine who I'm currently not talking to because she's mad at me. I'll call her Potato. We haven't talked to each other for about two weeks now. For context, I'm a smart person academic wise, and I never really have trouble with school stuff and it's quite the opposite for her. But, she doesn't really make an effort to get better grades, she kinda just wallows in sadness and self-pity over her bad grades.

Anyway, everything was fine between us until a few weeks ago when we had exams and she just started acting weird towards me and my other smart and closest friend, let's call her Clover. Clover and Potato are really close because they live near eachother and visit eachother often. So when Clover noticed something's up with Potato, she confronted her about it and Potato said she's mad at both of us. She says it's cuz we passed our exams and she didn't, and we don't seem to care that she isn't passing and we aren't doing anything to help her. She also said we make her feel stupid cuz we talk about stuff she doesn't understand, and also when we're talking and she looks confused we usually ask her if she understands what we're talking about, because if we don't she gets sulky and we feel guilty.

Personally, Potato never asked me to help her study or anything along the lines of that, and I always try to encourage her to put effort into passing but it's like talking to a stone. I rarely even talk about school stuff with her because when I do she gets so moody and I try to avoid having to deal with her when she's like that. I also don't know how to avoid making her feel stupid, because she's brought this problem up before and I tried changing but I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong.

Anyway, Potato and my other friends formed a group in class to talk shit about Clover and I. They said all kinds of stuff, most of which were lies or exaggerations and I can't lie when I found out I was really hurt. I didn't think our friend group was one of those friend groups where everyone is secretly jealous of each other, but ig I was wrong. I also never thought they'd talk about me behind my back if I'd done something that hurt them, unknowingly or not because I'd never do it to them. I always thought they'd come to me and talk it out, but obviously I was wrong.

After about 2-3 weeks of silent treatment, awkward eye contact from across the room and avoiding each other, Today I check my dms and I was shocked to find that Potato texted me. She didn't even say anything she just sent me reels. Four consecutive reels about how short I am (I'm 5' 1). No context, no apology or confrontational message. Nothing. Just the reels.

Also I should mention that Clover and Potato are on good terms again because Clover apologized to Potato for passing while she failed. I simply cannot and will not be doing that.

Also I should mention that Potato usually isn't very nice to me, she makes fun of my appearance a lot and makes me feel ugly. And it's not just with me, she makes fun of everyone's appearances, even her own family. It's like she hates ugly people (even unconventionally attractive people).She's naturally really pretty so i can't even try to make her feel as bad as she makes others feel.

What should I do? How should I handle this?

( sorry for rambling. hope this wasn't a bother)

bellooo anon sorry this reply is so late i got rlly busy 😞. but im gonna be so honest w u so just know i mean no harm and i want whats best for you, even if we dont know each other.

i think you need to set a clear boundary between yourself and her. there is no point in you having a friend that does not make you feel good about yourself. friendship is all about the ways both of you can uplift each other, and share common experiences with someone that you want in your life because they add value to it. and in my eyes, potato is not adding any value to your life. she seems insecure, self-centered, and plain rude.

it may not be your place to get in the middle of clover and potato's friendship, because at the end of the day that's between them, but just because clover and potato are friends doesnt mean you need to be friends w potato as well.

as for setting the boundary, you should probably talk to clover abt it first if you dont feel comfortable just going in and talking to potato. and lowkey ... avoidance would work in the end. like actions say sooo much so if u just dont attempt to mend that bridge w potato then that should send a clear message to her.

but tldr: dont be friends w potato. not good for u.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

6.6.23 Tuesday

Still, alive angels... I have the paranoia and thinking of future.... I have mixed-up that I need to stretch coz of my sciatica/ priformis/ pelvic pain. I feel fat and ugly....

Anyways, the friend of RV (Carlo ) they dropped off RV and Janna, they are just here for vacation but will be going back to Myanmar... They just got back from their bonding session...

I have memory lapse, natural memory lapse coz it's been a long time... I thought Carlo is RV's friend in Immaculate Conception Academy but Carlo corrected me that they met in De La Salle and he is now married with a Myanmar girl and 1 kid 8 years old now....Wow! Carlo got a foreigner...

2:54 am

Done, showering and I can't sleep... Argh! So, hot without AC ( we have ac but we can't open it due to tight budgeting )... I must used shirt coz my right armpit there is a trapped hair follicle, it musn't rub on the skin...

I still have windblow trap... I wanna leave the hometown for progress.. I need a knight and shining armour ( hoping and praying )...

I need money and job but I don't wanna commute that far.... Frustrating I can't find new friends that I wanted alien that has a good heart and stability to pull me up but I can't exist coz of money shortage...

9:39 am

No signs of life coming from Uncle DD, always and always and a big question mark for me....Aunt Teresa told me just get it from Uncle DD....

Now....What is the conspiracy plan of Uncle DD? No beat of life or swallowed by a dark,deep hole?

Uncle Jun went to baranggay and frustration on his support on Uncle DD...

9:49 am

I just wanna share this angels though tomboyish, was actually.... I also love being a woman...

My make-up kit....My first make-up kit was stolen in my room.... I grew-up having roller blades and make-up kit but I think I never actually enjoy the roller blades coz I was not good at it but I'm so good on biking even mountain bikes...

My medium of language is "Taglish" angels...Later will put everything on English....I'm thinking of money now and waiting for signs of life coming from Uncle DD...

11:05 am

I borrowed food from ate Liza's Carinderia'Z and these issues is an old issues that if Uncle DD conspiracy plan will continue here but he will keep on nagging about his cheapness...It is so crazy angels...

I badly need help on someone having an upper intellectual ability, someone who can see and analyze things without judging me, angels...

This Uncle Jun seems withdrawing on something here...It is a big question mark, as well...

2:03 pm

This Cavite is full of mystery....I hate being stuck like this...

Another observation on Uncle Jun, it seems sometimes he is having split or soul interference... Like last night he played songs from his mobile in full tagalog and I told him strange... Coz from the past months he played English song in 80's on his mobile speaker... He always put that most of the time on the kitchen table...

3:56 pm

Text of Uncle DD but I still don't like them being here ( the idea of how the family should flow inside the family tribe or circle )...No extra something and he will be a father figure for Aunt Karen's son but no extra coffee and that's it??? No box of biscuits...

Ugly situation here... Something is not right on Uncle DD that I'm gonna be stuck forever...

I had have the windblow still... I have deep smile lines!

4:52 pm

It seems a gateway for Uncle DD to take my place in this world to appear as a college graduate but me as a college graduate it seems they are smashing unfairly... Punching me that I don't even know...

9:12 pm

Giving that food money as 2500 is not enough angels... What about the hygiene our bathroom soap...I hate that particular group here in the entire Philippines that they just eat and they don't shower or brush or clean their penis or vagina... For God's sake, it was taught in the school and as a mature middle-class or educated people... We should do our hygiene... Why, they are punching me unfairly???

Imagine you will have a scaly penis or smelly vagina....It is not good angels... We need to do hygiene...

So, difficult to find an educated partner....HIV is existing again angels... I'm careful and aware... I had HPV shot...

It is not good to rub the penis if it's dirty angels to a vagina that is clean...

Plus, it is hygiene... All of my exes were clean....Rocky the Big, JP the butt king and Ryan the XL...

But now... I'm kinda doubting on everyone and most specially on JP the butt king...

[1kook]

commercial break: eleven

this is a netflix & chill drabble <3

SUMMARY You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small.

WARNINGS sadness, vulnerabilities, insecurity, self confidence issues, an idea of “feeling ugly”, tw // mental breakdowns and feelings of regression, crying, jk doesn’t want anyone near, oc tries her best to comfort him

RATING e for everyone

WC 1.2k

NOTES i love the idea of jk being the perfect man, but I also want to show moments where he isn’t so perfect and where he’s not the mature man oc thinks he is… I love my boy so much 😭😭 also it’s 1am helloooooo ALSO it’s formatted ugly bc I’m posting this from my phone 😀 I’ll fix it tmrw promise

Jungkook hates to admit it, but some days are harder than others.

Some days, Jungkook wakes up with an uncomfortably stifling feeling in his chest, one that threatens to wiggle its way into the loneliest parts of his heart and find permanent residency. A drowsy one, makes him linger in bed well past his preferred wake up time, the blackout curtains in his room ensheathing him in a sea of darkness that his heart is adamant on replicating. But it’s worse than drowning, because his lungs are clear; it’s just that he doesn’t have the strength, the willpower to force another breath— he just wants to lay there and do nothing.

“Good morning,” he hears from beside him, and a different weight presses against his side. You’re warm in the morning, soft too. He likes how you feel, he always does. But not today. Today, he doesn’t know how he feels about the overwhelming presence at his side. You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. “You sleep okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. The words don’t catch in his throat, but in the recesses of his mind instead, overlapping and overflowing until it feels like tv static, fuzzy and blurry— confusing. You shift beside him, and his heart kicks up an anxious rhythm. It’s not the normal butterflies that beat their wings against the walls of his rib cage when you smile, nor is it the thundering gallops of a dozen horses when you touch him just so. It’s this nauseating, terrified feeling, one that screams at him to answer lest he upset you with his silence.

There’s a hand on his chest, and he doesn’t like how it feels right now, just another suffocating layer to add on, but even worse he doesn’t know how to tell you that.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to. It slinks away, but that warning bell in his head is going off anyway, makes him look over at you in panic, only to find you propped up on your elbow, inquisitive eyes focused on him. Your features are still soft, and Jungkook is pretty sure there’s traces of last night’s makeup clinging to your lash line. You’re so pretty— you always are. Jungkook can’t handle this right now. You’re too pretty, and Jungkook feels ugly. (Ah, so that was the feeling.) You can’t look at Jungkook when he’s ugly, you won’t want Jungkook when he’s ugly.

“Hey,” you say softly, gently. Jungkook’s heart aches. A pair of fingers brush along his cheekbones, drag through the wetness that escapes the corners of his eyes, trails down toward his ears—when had he started crying?—where you delicately tuck his hair back. “I’m gonna get started on breakfast,” you tell him, voice hushed, whispering. Jungkook is hanging onto every single word, feels like you’ll disintegrate before his very eyes if he isn’t careful. You can probably tell. “You don’t have to eat right now, but it’ll be down there if you want, okay?”

You move to get off the bed, scooting away from him, leaving him behind. He’s fine with it until he isn't, until your hand touches the door knob to his room and a shameful sniffle escapes him. Loud too, loud enough to make you turn back in surprise. And that alarmed look on your face is enough to make Jungkook want to hide, hurriedly rolling over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow, arms clutching at the softness as he cries. You hurry back. He doesn’t want you to leave, but he doesn’t want you to see either. He doesn’t know what he wants.

“No,” he begs, turning the other way when your face comes up beside him, kneeling beside his side of the bed. “Don’t look at me— please.”

There’s a hand on his back, and Jungkook hates how much he loves it, hates how much he instinctively yearns to find comfort in you at a time like this. He was getting better, he’s been getting better. He swears he has; he has journals full of feelings to prove it, vulnerable text message threads with Namjoon to prove it.

But he won’t lie. The Valentine’s Day incident had left a bad taste in Jungkook’s mind, and these past few months have been hard. He feels like he’s regressing, like he’s back to being a teenager all over again. By itself, that knowledge sucks. Combined with the warm palm on his back and the loving voice calling his name— combined with the fact you've been watching Jungkook these past few months each and every time he’s woken up like this… it’s humiliating. “Don’t look,” he chokes out, each drag of your fingers through his hair sending a confused pang of emotions straight to his heart.

“Why can’t I look?” you ask quietly, toying with the strands of his hair. He sniffles. “What would I see?”

“Me,” Jungkook sobs, wishing the mattress would just up and swallow him.

You’re silent, a fact that Jungkook wishes he could appreciate had it not made the sounds of his anguish even more obvious. It makes him self-conscious, more than he already is, so he forces himself to quiet down. It doesn’t feel better, but it does let him hear your next words. “I like looking at you,” you tell him, and the bed dips down beside him. After a moment, you speak again. “Do you feel ugly today?”

Careful, calculated. Like he’s a ticking bomb and you don’t want him to blow. Briefly, he had explained it before, skirted around it in embarrassment as he talked about the way he felt. It had been months ago— maybe the weekend after Valentine’s —so he’s surprised you remember. Jungkook nods.

“Then I’ll wait,” you announce, and eventually he feels you settle in beside him. His head is still turned the other way, hiding shamefully, but he can feel your warm breath against his skin when you slowly cuddle in close. An arm wraps itself around his back. He doesn’t mind it this time— he just wants to be held now. “I’ll wait until you feel pretty again.”

Part of Jungkook wants to snap at you; he doesn’t want to feel pretty, he’s never felt pretty. Jungkook felt average at best, and on days where you stroked his ego, maybe even handsome. But pretty? That’s not something that’ll ever happen, and he doesn’t want you to waste your hopes on a possibility that does not exist.

But that’s mean, and he doesn’t want to chase you away, scare you away, even if he doesn’t want you to see him like this. So Jungkook shuts his mouth, stays still, tries to match the soft rise and fall of your chest against his side instead.

Some days he’s fine in a few minutes without a single tear shed. Other days are long. Other days are so painful and uncomfortable, he just wants to hide. He wants to climb into his shell and never come out, hide his ugliness from the world and never have to worry about being seen again.

You don’t lie to him, don’t feed him empty promises while you wait. You just lay silently at his side, pulling him closer when his sniffles get louder. You don’t say anything unnecessary and you never make it about yourself.

Lately his shell has grown bigger, wider, comfier. Big enough for someone else to squeeze in, hold him close when he doesn’t feel like himself.

He doesn’t hate it.