#i know hes miserable as FUCK that those are the 5 he ended up with

[muffingnf]

need dteam’s new hispanic friends to qrt tommy and tell him to die in spanish

[piggycyberwarrior]

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read

genre: ANGST

+ 1,6k words

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

You thought you were going insane.

Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.

Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.

Fuck all that bullshit.

Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye

Everything was a lie, apparently.

The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.

In the end you didn't care. Just waited.

When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.

of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.

But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.

You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.

Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-

the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.

Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.

.

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.

You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.

You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.

Simon.

The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.

You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.

You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down

You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.

You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.

In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.

.

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.

heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.

Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.

The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.

You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.

"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.

He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.

You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.

"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.

.

Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.

"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.

You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.

His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.

"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-

he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-

Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-

"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.

"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.

He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.

Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.

Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.

He had to do his job- protect his family.

Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.

"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.

.

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.

You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.

They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.

But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.

The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.

Fucking. Revenge.

-

!please do reblog! :)

join the Taglist here (Taglist post)

[milkoomi]

⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a mini series on the art of becoming a better you

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

chapter four — THE ART OF SELF RESPECT

when you live a life where you don’t respect yourself, your boundaries, your health, your mind, your emotions; just anything about you, you’ll end up living a life where you’re walked all over, where people take advantage of you, where you’ll find no successes or achievements— you live a life feeling lost and feeling empty, feeling like your mission in life is to be meaningless. we’re taught to respect others, but we’re never taught to respect ourselves. we, as individuals, need to have the highest level of respect for one person. that person being us.

ᥫ᭡. where to start

decenter men

i was talking about this the other night with my best friend, but way too many people (women, men, trans women/men, literally anyone) center their lives around men. the patriarchy has stolen so many people’s individuality, stripping them of finding their own personality, their own interests, opinions, hobbies, etc. and that is one of the main reasons people don’t have any self respect. decenter men.

a man should not, and never define who you are as a person. a man should never make you feel like you are undeserving of your own successes. a man should never make you feel any less than what you truly are! men should never be a source of validation for you as a person. it doesn’t matter if you’re a man yourself (cis or trans), it doesn’t matter if you’re a woman (cis or trans), and it doesn’t matter if you’re nonbinary/gender-nonconforming; you should never ever— and i mean ever— center your ideals, thoughts, opinions, hobbies, interests, and your entire self and life around a man.

too many people are so focused on men and what men think about them. and let me just give you some food for thought: when have you ever done something solely for yourself without the back thought of a man’s approval? i’ll admit, back in high school i spent all four years thinking about men and seeking validation from a man. from my freshman year all up until my senior year i was in back to back relationships because i couldn’t even fathom the thought of being without a man. and you know what that did for me? it made me miserable, it made me more insecure, and it made me put myself into situations that the person who i am now would be insanely repulsed by because what the fuck was i thinking? majority of my teenage years were spent centering my life around men, and i was miserable.

now, at my current age at this point in my life, i am so unbelievably lucky to be engaged to the man of my dreams, but! i remember when my partner and i first started dating, my therapist asked about 5-6 months into my relationship, “do you feel like you depend on him for your happiness?” and it made me think, “oh my god, what if i am? what if all the anxieties i have about my relationship are because i rely too much on him for my own happiness?” while my relationship with him is the healthiest, happiest, and most healing relationship i’ve ever been in, i had to learn to be okay with being by myself; with being in the company of my own, without him, because i can’t depend on him for company or happiness or peace— i have to depend on myself for those things, and he’s just my wonderful partner that i get to enjoy and experience life with. he’s not my entire life. he’s only a part of it.

you have to learn to be happy and to find peace with being by yourself. your whole life can’t be surrounding the idea of a man.

here are a couple posts that i’ve found to be really helpful with how to decenter men:

“decentering men and recentering yourself” by @honeytonedhottie

“how to decenter men” by @femmefatalevibe

stop seeking validation from others

not only do people seek validation from men, they seek validation from literally anyone. parents, teachers, bosses, friends, classmates, colleagues; people are looking from validation from all the wrong sources. you, yourself, should be the only person you seek validation from. you should be setting your own standard from yourself.

again, looking for validation from any outside source only makes you lose yourself more and more in the process. you forget all about what you want and need from yourself because you’re so focused on what other people need and want from you. validate yourself, affirm yourself, just be there for yourself. you don’t need anyone or anything else telling you that you’re doing something right. you’ll know what’s right for you because you should know yourself better than anyone else!

set boundaries

chapter three was all about learning how to say no and how to set boundaries, so i highly recommend going back to that chapter and reviewing it since i go more in-depth on that topic!

setting boundaries for yourself is one of the best things to do to regain your self respect. knowing what exactly you want from yourself and from others and setting that line will not only protect your happiness and peace, but it will also show an immense amount of respect that you have for yourself to others who may think that they don’t have to respect you.

ᥫ᭡. self respect as a whole

respecting yourself means respecting your peace, your privacy, your thoughts, your opinions, your emotions; you as a person. it protects you from things and people that could potentially harm you, whether it’s physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

protect your peace. protect your happiness. protect your mind and your body. when you disrespect yourself by partaking in an overuse of harmful substances, having unprotected sex with someone you don’t even have a genuine connection to, or accepting behaviors from someone who’s constantly hurting you or betraying your trust you become a doormat for people to walk all over you in life.

i have known too many people, myself included, who disrespected themselves and faced one too many hardships in life. it makes us miserable and that misery turns into so many mental health issues that can sometimes cause too much harm that it makes it 100 times more difficult to recover.

self respect doesn’t have to be hard. you can always start small by just taking care of yourself! this has been a recurring theme in this series, but here i am to say it again: prioritize yourself! respect that you have needs and wants and do things for yourself that make you feel good and that benefit you. self care is vital, and respecting the fact that your own health needs to be in check is a wonderful first step towards gaining more self respect.

you have to show up for yourself, you have to immerse yourself in activities/hobbies/media that’s actually good for you— not what you think is good for you, you have to be kind to yourself, and you have to love yourself, babes. seriously, self respect can be a really simple thing at the end of the day and it can come so easily to you if you just let it be. don’t make your life harder by disrespecting yourself.

ᥫ᭡. final notes

we’re nearing the end of this mini series! chapter five will be the final chapter! i’m so thankful that this series has been shown so much love so far and i hope that it’s been able to help you guys as much as it helped me! i know i’ve been writing all of these, but something about creating content like this really motivates me to keep moving forward with my own self improvement journey.

i hope you guys always know i’m with you every step of the way in this journey. you never have to walk it alone, trust me! i know i always talk about being there for yourself, but other people (who are genuinely worth it, of course) can be there for you too! we’ve all got the same goal: to better ourselves. it’s going to be a difficult and long journey, but we’ll make it together!

with lots of love, juno 🌷

[tojipie]

Off of your realistic headcanons, specifically the one with his wife, do you think he could ever fall inlove with reader? Genuinely. How patient would the reader be? Maybe he’d just end up running away again, but still.

read this first !

(im no gege :p take this with a grain of salt, all headcannons!)

honestly? I do think toji would have the capacity to fall in love again after his wife. losing any loved one is hard but what needs to be pointed out first and foremost is that when toji lost his wife he lost the genesis of what was essentially his chosen family. that's got to be an unimaginable obstacle to overcome.

we all know that his heavenly restriction robbed him of the familial love most children get from their families. knowing the zenins, that "love" was entirely transactional and based on what toji could contribute to the family as a sorcerer.

to go your whole life being told your mere existence is a fluke, and then waking up one day and realizing you not only have a wife but a beautiful son that love you unconditionally despite your perceived "flaws" would had been something he never though possible.

so to have your wife taken from this earth as a young adult, leaving you to raise your infant son alone after you thought your life was set is something that will stick with you forever. I do think toji would move on, but I don't think it'd be linear.

he'd probably spend the first few years dedicating himself to his work rather than a relationship. he'd probably graduate to couch surfing next, never staying with any women for longer than a month or two. then, when enough time had passed, he'd maybe pursue a couple relationships relationships that last a year or so.

and then reader comes along, and there's a constant uneasiness in the pit of his stomach that he can't quite get over.

toji doesn't know how he feels about you. he likes sleeping on your couch, sometimes your bed if he's good. he likes the meals you cook him and the shows you two watch together. he likes the feeling of your hand down his pants and your lips on his. y'know since we're being honest.

he's worrying himself sick wondering what it is you're doing to him. is it a curse? are you slowly poisoning him? eventually he figures maybe he just doesn't like you as much as he thought. and that's fine. he went years swearing off women after the death of his wife, and he has no problem dodging another for the sake of putting his money first.

but then he's in your living room nursing a beer, feeling your soft hands caress his face as you come up behind him and press a kiss to the back of his head. and he cries. he cries big, fat, hot tears that he wipes away with the sleeve of his carharrt jacket after you've gone to bed because for once in his life he sees a glimpse of the life that he once had, and he wants that life back so bad.

toji doesn't come back for a while. he buys a burner phone and skips town, working odd jobs for shiu until he figures out what the fuck he wants to do with the handful of decades he has left. he doesn't frequent any bars, doesn't warm anyones bed. he just exists. he exists like he did those couple of years after his wife passed, and he realizes that he's never been so miserable.

toji can't live without you. and he felt guilty for so long admitting that to himself, but it's the truth. you are everything he loves about the world and more. they say men never forget their first love, and that may be true. but when he imagines a life worth living he can only imagine waking up to your face in his neck each morning.

admittedly you're upset when he shows up at your doorstep 2 weeks later, sheepishly rattling off an explanation that sounds like its going in 5 different directions. you get things sorted out after a long uncomfortable talk. you knew what you were getting into when you got involved with the man, you get it for the most part. which he's surprised to hear. you end the night passed out on top of each other after demolishing 2 large pizzas and 3 horror movies, happy to finally be where you both belong.

˚ ✧ ──────

[gladiatorcunt]

- CILANTRO & CORIANDER

cw: roommate (you might as well be)!gojo x male!reader: 18+ mdni, use of ‘baby boy’, he calls you pretty, size queen!reader, VERY creepy!gojo & yandere tendencies, swearing, sexual harassment, mention of guitarist!geto, crack treated semi-seriously, an old concept post i need out the drafts, throwaway hint of satosugu if you want, implied frat bro basketball player!gojo, tense changes & a brief pov switch at the end

It all started with a loud ‘PASS THE FUCKING BALL DUMBASS’ coming from the shared wall of your apartment.

You hadn’t even been moved into the place for a week but every day there was always some stuff happening that made you strongly consider filing several noise complaints. You had never really been in a living situation that involved being surrounded by strangers before so you were anxious about coming off as annoying. When you had first moved in and got your keys, all you could hear were the understandable sounds of heavy footsteps on all sides. But as the days went by, sitting on the empty floor was accompanied by the shrill strumming of an electric guitar. The shouting followed soon after from what sounded like a different room.

You were worried that your next door neighbor was possibly violent until you heard buzzer sounds from their tv. Shit, they’re one of those sports people. You pressed your cheek against the cold floor of your bedroom and brought the one good blanket you have tightly over your ears. Maybe they would quiet down when the game was over, not that you knew remotely anything about basketball. You’re not even sure games should be going on at 10:49 in the morning, but again, your odds of getting a PhD in basketball are abysmal.

Errands gave you an excuse to be out of the house for a few hours. You got back around 5 and wanted to just collapse. The deadbolt lock on your door gave you serious grief but you managed to wrangle your key out of the lock and nudge the door open with the tip of your foot. Pieces of the laundry bundled up in your arms kept slipping out onto the floor. You groaned and bent over to pick all of the stragglers up before tossing them in the plastic basket.

You let yourself zone out in front of the microwave that’s reheating your pepperoni pineapple pizza. A minute later you opened the microwave door and nearly had a heart attack when you almost dropped your food.

“THIS GAME SUCKS!”

It looked like it was wishful thinking to hope that the noise would improve while you were away. Who knows, it was probably dead quiet until the second your neighbor could sense that you were home. You knew nothing about them but you wouldn’t put it past them to be enough of an asshole to wait to be loud until they knew you could hear it. You didn’t know if they were watching the same game that they were watching this morning or if it was a new one.

You sighed and agonizingly slowly dragged your hands down your face. Any mounting anger was temporarily subdued by the fact that the noise is an unfortunate part of apartment life. You would just have to get used to this being a miserable part of your everyday life.

For weeks on end all you heard was the obnoxious sound of his loud tv, whatever shit he dropped right next to the wall, and his moans that bordered on screams.

You put up with it as best you could, but you purposefully rode your monster cock dildos on the other side of the apartment so he wouldn’t hear you. A part of you thinks it’s because you know he’d get off to it, and he doesn’t need any more jerk off material. His meat’s probably raw from how much he beats it by now.

Your pettiness at being deprived of an orgasm in peace go hand in hand with how on edge every loud sound coming from his place is making you. You’re overstimulated in a bad way and unfortunately it doesn’t seem like a very selective meteorite is going to crash through the bastard’s window anytime soon.

———————————————————————————

You don’t stop to think of the consequences or how appropriate what you’re doing really is. You barely lifted a hand to knock on his door before it was carelessly swung open. The door made an obnoxious bang, revealing the 6’3 jerk you were fed up with. He had clothes on this time (he usually doesn’t when you swing by), orange striped basketball shorts and a black compression shirt. He was sweaty and had probably been working out before you decided to make a scene. Your eyes strayed towards how plump the shirt made his chest look, but his slightly wide nipples were the ones staring at YOU.

“Uh, hey, dude. Sorry, I told Suguru not to practice so late at night.” Satoru grins, believing your beef is with his musician best friend who never seems to leave.

You blink, wishing you could spontaneously combust. “What? No, that’s not what this is about.”

You refused to think about how you caught glimpses of his loose hairy balls dangling with his movements as he leaned against the doorframe. Of course Gojo Satoru (as he yelled through your wall when he caught you moaning, you thought you were safe and he thought you could use someone to call out to) would be the kind of guy that doesn’t wear underwear when he works out. They looked so swollen and full to bursting, you swallowed reflexively.

You shook the thoughts off and lost yourself in a whirlwind of pent up rage. Your breaths were shaky but you pushed yourself to get it all out. Did you expect anything to really change after this? No. But it felt damn good to finally say how you felt about the entire childish ordeal.

“I honestly could not give less of a flying fuck how you feel about what i’m saying because i’m too tired of your stupid shit. You’ve got me so fucking heated i could just-”

Typical. You couldn’t even finish saying your peace before large veiny hands snatched your plush cheeks and soft thin lips smashed against yours. You’re so caught off guard that he pushed the boundary even further by prying open your mouth with his slick tongue on a hunt to find yours. He sensually rubbed the tip of his tongue alongside yours in a sickly sweet little kiss. His rough fingers slid deep into your hair and to the back of your head, gently massaging circles into your scalp.

You come to your senses as soon as more guitar riffs reach your ears. You helplessly wriggled around in his air tight hold until he found enough mercy in his (no doubt) wretched soul. He panted like a dog right in your face, messily giving you slick open mouth kisses to keep making spit drip from your tongues every time you part.

“What- what- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT YOU CREEP?” You shrieked. You sputter and your fists pummeled his broad shoulders with everything you had, which clearly wasn’t much because your wrists were soon bundled together in his loose grip like it was nothing. Your cheeks feel they could spontaneously burst into flames.

The twitch in his shorts goes unnoticed. So does the wet spot.

“Ha…” He panted, letting his tongue hang out for a second. His bangs swished to the side as he tilted his head and grinned. “Sorry, you’re just so pretty.”

His blue eyes shimmered like the sunlight on the sea off the amalfi coast as he said it. You both didn’t bother pretending that there was any sincerity in the one word apology.

As soon as you stormed off, he was out of his pants like a bat out of hell. You aren’t there to be the VIP guest at his one man show, but Satoru can perform just fine for an audience of one.

“Mmmmh. Ungh~ Fuck yes……” He whispers as he comes down from his high, grinding his favorite pocket asshole in circles on his sweaty dick.

It even has a rumpled picture of you taped on it, for better immersion.

He pants and pulls the toy away with a shluck! sound. His tongue unfurls from his mouth as if he were a snake ready to pounce on a nice fat mouse.

“Hah…….” Satoru giggles, “Love you, baby boy.”

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 7- Finale (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: some explicit smut, Jungkook being immature, a little time leap, a fairy tale ending. NSFW!!!

Word count: 5k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: Guys, we have come to the end. ngl, I am emotional and sad and not ready to let them go yet. but it's been more than 10 months since I started this series and it's the right time to end it. Please let me know about your thoughts in the comment section or in my askbox. More notes at the end.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

There is a lot in Jungkook’s mind. 

He has been trying to calm himself down, trying not to think about you and focus on Jiwon but he has been failing terribly. 

The person he thinks of (or misses) mostly during all of his waking hours is, you. 

He knows he has been a dick to you. He borderline stalked you, invaded your privacy, riled you up and tried to justify his actions even when he should be the last person to do so. 

But he couldn’t help it. 

He still can’t. Just the thought of you belonging to someone else other than him drives him insane. 

Something shifted inside of him after that night. Something shifted so terribly that now he is questioning his life choices. 

He is questioning if he really fell out of love with you or not? ‘Cause if that was the case, his blood wouldn’t boil when your special client almost kissed you. 

Also, he wouldn’t walk up to your door and start questioning you as if he still has some kind of rights over you. 

So, what is it? 

Why does being with Jiwon never seem to be as exciting as it was with you? Why does kissing her never ignite that insatiable hunger you could induce with your lips? Why can’t he picture a future with her like he used to daydream with you? 

Why? 

He misses you! Fuck! He misses you! 

His eyes crave for your one sight, his skin wants your touch, his ears are dying to hear you call his name once. 

He doesn’t realize when he starts crying silently. 

He takes a hold of his phone and opens the gallery. Scrolling through the application he looks for the evidence of your once in-bloom relationship. 

But he finds none.

There is not a single photo. 

No photos from Jimin’s show two years ago, no photos from the last picnic of you two, no photos from the jeju trip, no photos with your parents. Not a single one. 

He frowns at that. 

He very certainly didn’t delete a single file. Then where are those memories? 

“Kook, can you drop me off at the set?” Jiwon speaks from behind the couch. 

He doesn’t pay attention at first, his fingers work vehemently scrolling up and down on the device. 

“Kook!” she almost screams now. 

“What?” Jungkook screams back. 

“What are you so busy with that you can’t even hear me out?” 

“My photos-” Jungkook starts speaking but he stops immediately. 

He never locked his personal phone with a password or whatever, so it remains accessible to almost everyone. Given the fact that he mostly uses his work phone, this particular device stays at home, unlocked.

“Did you.. Did you go through my phone?” he asks finally. 

Suspicion takes over his mind when Jiwon doesn’t say anything for several seconds. 

“I asked you something, Jiwon.” 

“Why? Is there something wrong?” Jiwon raises one of her eyebrows. 

“You know exactly what’s wrong, don’t you?” 

“I don’t think we should be having this conversation now-” “Why did you delete her photos? Who the fuck gave you the right to?” 

Jungkook yells at the top of his lungs, taking Jiwon by surprise. 

“What do you mean I don’t have the right? I am your girlfriend and she is your past, Jungkook! You’re supposed to let her go! Why are you still looking at her pictures?” Jiwon screams back, by the time her sentence ends, she is crying. 

“Because I love her. Yes! Yes, I still love her.” Jungkook yells as if he is realizing the words himself and not just telling Jiwon for the sake of it. The realization hits him like a truck.

“What? What are you-”

“I thought I liked you, Jiwon. But it was an illusion. It has always been her. I never felt for you as intensely as I felt for her.. I feel for her. I- I’m sorry. This is so fucked up! I am sorry to both of you. I misjudged my feelings and now-” 

“Stop it! Stop it! I can’t hear it anymore. Let’s take a break, Jungkook. Let’s take a few days away from each other. It will be fine. It will be fine.” 

Before Jungkook could reply to her, Jiwon runs out of the door. 

He knows he is the main culprit here. He hurt you both. But he also knows nothing can be fine anymore. Not at least between him and Jiwon. 

About you though, he can beg you until you take him back. 

You still love him after all. Don’t you? 

Jungkook feels nauseated as the scene unfolds right in front of him. 

He has come to beg you. He has come to tell you that he would do anything for you to take him back, he even lied for you to open the door. He did all of these only to have you turn your back at him. 

You tell him it’s too late but he is adamant. He silently promises himself that he will win you back but just then his eyes fall on the purple bruises littered all around your throat. 

You look like someone has been kissing you breathless. 

His heart drops at the thought. But he consoles himself, tells himself that you still love him and only him. 

But his fears take shape when a male voice speaks from the dining place of your once shared apartment, “Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook’s blood starts boiling when he sees it’s the guy from the other day. Your special client. 

So you are most definitely sleeping with him. 

“And who are you to come between us?” he grits through his teeth. Everything he sees is red. 

“I am her boyfriend.” the man replies as he comes to stand between Jungkook and you. 

Jungkook chuckles evilly, “No. You are just a rebound she is using to get over me.”

Jungkook expected the man to retort, to have a crack in his confidence but he only smirks, “I think you are confusing reality with your fantasy, Mr. Jeon.” 

The older guy gives him a flashing smile and continues, “you know her better than me. Do you really think she will be using someone for her own needs and benefits?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks further. 

He knows you are definitely not a hypocrite. He knows if this guy is in your house, calling himself your boyfriend then he is your boyfriend. 

But he is determined to fight until he can’t anymore. 

He will be fighting until he wins you back. 

He diverts his attention to you again, “Y/N please-”

“Jungkook.. Now is not the right time. Let’s talk. Let’s talk things out but not now. I will text you the time and place. Please leave now. Please do as I say for once.” you cut him off. 

Your calm voice calms him down as well. And he decides to listen to you. 

“You promise to meet me?” 

“I promise.” 

You cover your face with your hands as soon as the door closes behind you. 

You are ashamed, so terribly ashamed of whatever happened that it’s tough to even look at Hoseok. 

He doesn’t deserve this, neither do you. 

“I’m sorry. I- I’m so fucking sorry, Hoseok.” you mumble inside your palms. 

Hoseok’s strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. It's not your fault.” Hoseok speaks into your ear with his soft and comforting voice. Stroking your hair with one hand, he pats on your back with another. 

You’re incredibly grateful that you found this man and he likes you as much as you like him. 

If your life had driven Jungkook away to make space for Hoseok, then you would be incredibly happy with the sacrifices you made. 

“You don’t mind me seeing him, right?” you speak into Hoseok’s shoulder.

“No. Not at all. As long as you come back to me… I will be fine.” 

“You can be assured about that. I will always come back to you no matter what.” 

You can’t help but smile to yourself a little at the turn of events. 

Almost two months ago you were sitting at the same restaurant, in the same cabin, at the same spot. You were waiting for the same person but the reason was completely different. 

That day you were all nervous and fidgety. You knew you were aiming at a blind spot and your efforts might be nullified but you were determined to try. 

You were even ready to beg Jungkook if that means he would stay beside you, with you. 

And today, the situation has taken a wild turn. 

You are here to hear him out and today he might become the one to beg you to take him back. Your ego soars high but you know how to keep that in check. 

Jungkook is, as usual, late. 

When he finally arrives, he apologizes a ton of times, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. The traffic was so bad today.” 

“It’s okay. But I don’t have much time, so can you please tell me why you have been pulling all those stunts lately?” you start the conversation. Even though you are very worked up, you try to keep your voice neutral. 

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I am actually ashamed. I know I shouldn’t have barged into your house like that or question you about your life. But I couldn’t- I couldn’t stop myself. At first I told myself that I am just concerned for you. But later I realized I have been deceiving myself. I have deceived myself for that every second I thought I didn’t love you anymore or I loved someone else. That’s not true. I- I still love you. I love you so damn much.” By the time Jungkook completes, his eyes turn glassy. 

The anger you have felt prior to this moment, vanishes into thin air. Now you feel bad for him. You really do. 

You nod, “I understand. It’s common for us to misjudge our feelings on several occasions but” inhaling a sharp breath you continue, “what’s done can’t be undone.” 

Jungkook leaves his seat and walks around the table to reach where you are sitting and then he is sinking down on his knees, “Y/N please. Please give me another chance. I- I will make things right.” he grabs your hands with his huge ones. Big fat trails of tears roll down his cheeks. 

The scene breaks your heart even further. 

You break his hold on your hands and hold him by his shoulders, hoisting him up on his feet. 

“Jungkook, there is no point in doing this. You know I have moved on.” 

“But- but you still love me. Don’t you? Tell me honestly, Y/N. don’t you still love me?” 

“A part of me will always be loving you, Jungkook. You have given me so much after all.” you give him a small smile, “but I have left that part behind. And now, I’m afraid, I’m in love with someone else." Just the thought of Hoseok puts your mind at ease. 

“Y/N- that guy has a kid!”

You chuckle at his complaint, “and how does that make him less deserving of love?” 

“He is a good human being, Jungkook, and he loves me just as much. That’s more than enough for me. I was never very demanding in the first place, you know that.” 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to understand just yet, “One last chance, please?”

You exhale loudly now. Diverting your eyes from him you murmur, “I love Hoseok, Kook. I really do. Please let me go now. Please?” 

Jungkook burst into tears upon hearing your verdict. You step closer to his body and hold him close to you. You pat on his back to calm him down. 

As a few seconds pass, he seems to stabilize himself. 

“But I won’t be giving up on you. I will wait. I will wait for you to take me back.” Jungkook states with a weird determination. 

You don’t say anything but nod a little. 

If Hoseok says he is completely comfortable with the idea of you meeting Jungkook alone, then it will be a lie. 

Because he is very much afraid of what may come out of this meeting. 

What if you decide to give the guy another chance? 

Hoseok trusts you with the entirety of his heart but sometimes fears are greater than the trust itself. 

This is the fifth time he takes a look at his watch. The meeting is still an hour away and the drive from the restaurant to the school is only fifteen to twenty minutes, so if you come out now, he will have enough time to understand what has been your decision. 

Just when he is about to peek at his watch another time, the restaurant door slides open and you walk out. 

You give him one of your iconic blinding smiles while running towards him to fall back into his arms.

Hoseok is now relieved. 

Because the way you smiled at him, the way you ran to his arms and the way you are placing a kiss on his lips now, tells him that he has nothing to worry about. 

That he has you all to himself now. 

He kisses you back with urgency, as if to confirm that you are really here in front of him. 

“You okay?” Hoseok asked once you are on your feet properly. 

“Umm.. I was fine. But now that I get to see this handsome face of my boyfriend, I feel even better.” you flirt shamelessly. 

God! How can you be this addictive? 

The tip of Hoseok’s ear turn red. He smiles a little sheepishly. He can’t remember the last time he felt this giddy around a woman. 

He squeezes your sides, lips almost find yours to capture in another kiss but a voice interrupted the affectionate moment. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” The question is directed at him. When Hoseok looks for the source of voice, he finds your ex, Jeon Jungkook, standing right behind you. 

He leaves your side, you turn around to face the younger man. 

“Jung-”

“Sure” Hoseok cuts you off. 

If Jungkook has something to say, he would make sure to share a piece of his mind as well. 

Hoseok non-verbally asks you to sit in the car while he figures out what in the world Jungkook would say to him. 

Once you are inside the car Jungkook starts speaking, “Just so you know, I won’t give up. I will always be here for her if she decides to come back to me.” 

Hoseok smiles at that “that won’t be necessary, I believe.” 

Jungkook fixes him with a glare, “I don’t know how things escalated between you and her but she-” he pauses at first and then diverts his eyes from Hoseok’s face, looks towards the car, “she is in love with you.” 

“The feelings are mutual.” Hoseok replies, keeping his calm demeanor. 

“Just don’t fuck things up like I did. Don’t hurt her like I-” he doesn’t continue.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” 

“What did you two talk about?” you seem to be genuinely curious about what your ex boyfriend had to say to your recent boyfriend. 

“You don’t need to know that, sweety.” teases Hoseok. 

You huff at his reply. 

In the span of your short relationship one thing Hoseok got to know about you is that you are incredibly cute when teased and he takes advantage of that knowledge whenever there is an opportunity.

“Okay but just tell me if he cursed you or something like that?” Now he knows that you are worried. 

“Not a chance, Y/N. He wouldn’t get away doing that, I am an attorney, remember?” he gives you one of those smiles that he knows you love way too much to admit.  

You nod. 

“You need to boast about your profession for this upcoming meeting a lot.” you say after a moment of silence.

“I know” Hoseok’s voice turns serious, “but I don’t know if I can do this or not, Y/N. I might just lose my cool.” 

You rest your left hand on his right one. Squeezing the same a little you reply, “I am here with you, Hoseok. I will handle it if things go out of hand, even though I don’t think that'll be the case.”

Hoseok’s mind sets itself on ease. If you are with him, he can do this. If you are with him, he can do anything.

“So.. you want me to believe that my son has been bullying your daughter?” The pitch of Jaemin’s mother’s voice is unnecessarily high and it hurts Hoseok’s ears. But he tries to calm himself down while focusing on your touch where you are holding his hand under the table. 

“Yes.” hoseok voices. 

“Do you have any proof?” the woman cocks one of her eyebrows. 

 “I am the proof myself, Mrs. Park. Being Sua’s therapist, I have gotten the chance to talk to her. Or rather I would say, I have made her talk to me as the child was way too afraid to share anything. And I assure you, your son has been bullying Jung Sua by outcasting her, calling her names that probably he doesn’t even know the meaning of, locking her in dark rooms and by damaging her relationship with her father. All apparently because she doesn’t have a mother.” you complete with a professional tone, something that the other woman can’t dare to defy. 

“B-but he is just seven years old-”

“That’s exactly my point, Mrs. Park. Given the fact that Jaemin is only seven years old, there is no way he knows what illegitimate is. He must have heard it from someone. Someone he could easily pick it up from.” you lean a little towards the table, narrowing your eyes on the woman. 

“What? What are you trying to say? Are you blaming me? That I have bad-mouthed Sua or something?” Jaemin’s mother screams at the top of her lungs. 

“Ma’am please, don’t shout.” the homeroom teacher rushes to stop the woman from yelling. 

“Yeobo! Stop it.” Jaemin’s father tries to do the same. 

He has been quiet from the start and from the looks of it, you can tell that the man is wiser than his wife. He probably understands what you and Hoseok are trying to convey. 

“We have not said anything explicitly. But you are getting worked up anyway, which suggests you are the one he picked it up from. If that’s the case then… just so you know that I can sue you for defaming my family and indirectly torturing my daughter.” Hoseok states flatly, even though his insides are burning already. 

“No. no, Mr. Jung. I am sorry for what has happened. I know my apologies are not enough and these can never undo the mental trauma that my son has caused to your daughter but I promise I will move him to a different school. Just please don’t drag us into anything legal. Please.” the man, who is clearly the oldest in the room, practically pleads Hoseok. 

Hoseok feels a little uneasy but then you squeeze his hand again, giving him a sign to settle the matter here. 

“I am okay with the proposition.” he lets everyone know. 

“Okay. This is settled then.” the homeroom teacher huffs out of relief. 

“We are all good now.” you say as the two of you are outside of the school.

“Thank-”

“Shut it, Hoseok. Thank me one more time and I will run away.” you whine angrily, a little pout graces your pretty lips. Hoseok wants to kiss it again and again.

He laughs instead. 

“Okay okay fine. Let’s go home.” he pulls you closer to his body by holding onto your forearms. 

“Sua is away on a Gwangju trip, right?” you seem to recall it finally. 

“Oh yeah. We can have our own trip tonight, baby.” Hoseok replies, licking on his bottom lips. His eyes drop on the narrow opening of your dress shirt. 

“What trip?” you smirk.

“Sex trip.” he whispers, squeezing on your waist. 

“Oh my god! Ho-Hoseok!” you groan seductively as Hoseok pounds on you as roughly as possible. 

He spreacds your asscheeks with both of his hands to take a look at the spot where his cock is disappearing into your hole. 

“Fuck baby! You are taking me so good. Your little cunt is swallowing my cunt so well, baby.” he praises, you moan as a reply. 

Two of his fingers chase your clit to draw slow, torturing circles.

“God! You are swollen!” he bemoans when his fingers come in contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Guess who ate me out minutes ago? As if it was his last meal?” you manage to say in between your ragged breaths. 

“Can’t help when you taste so good!” His reply is accompanied with a harsh thrust.

“Hoseok. -seok ah, I’m clo-” and even before you could complete your sentence, you cum.

The sight of you on all fours, drenching his cock while moaning his name, makes the tension in his lower stomach unbearable. 

So he releases inside the condom embarrassingly early. 

You fall on your face on his mattress, he falls on top of you.

“Let me run you a bath, hm?” he says in your hair. You nod. 

“Y/N” Hoseok calls your name as he strokes your hair softly. 

“Hm?” you mumble in his chest.

“I am thinking of telling Sua once she comes back from Gwangju. What do you say?” 

Your heart races at the thought. Honestly, you have been pondering on the topic for the past few days. You totally understand if Hoseok doesn't want to tell her anything just yet. But you also wondered what if she rejects you, unapproves you just as she did with Mina. 

“We should tell her. But-” you let your voice fade.

“But?”

You pull your face away from Hoseok’s chest and look into his eyes, “what if she doesn’t-” 

“I love you. I will be loving you, nothing can change that. And if she doesn’t approve of us together, I will try my best to change her mind.”  He gives you a smile. 

You return the gesture and you find solace in his chest again. 

“Oh I always knew.” Sua is more focused on the cookies you baked her than the conversation, which is indeed very serious. 

“You knew what?” you try to coax the answer out of her. Her father is sitting still with his mouth open ajar. 

“I knew that daddy likes you. And that you like daddy." She bites on the cookie. 

“How did you know it, Sua?” your eyes open much wider than you have ever had them opened. 

“He doesn’t take anyone to the bakery, you know. Not even emo and halmoni. And the way he panicked when I talked about Mina aunty.” the kid giggles. 

Apparently, a seven year old caught on to the feelings of two adults. You two have been that obvious all these time. 

“So… you are okay with Y/N?” Hoseok asks. It is as lf he is asking permission from his parents, which in this case might have been less nerve wrecking.  

“Ummm yeah. I like her and I always wanted a mommy.” Sua smiles at you. Her eyes crinkle. 

Is this what true validation feels like? 

Not what your partner thinks about how your dress or makeup looks or how well you have been taking care of your skin, but a seven year old kid, giving you the place of her mother despite knowing you for less than two months? It is true validation for sure. 

Tears prick your eyes but you are quick to blink those away. 

“I will try my best to be your best mommy, Sua. I promise.” you open your arms wide. Sua takes the invitation and jumps on your embrace. 

You hug her smaller frame, while your smaller frame gets engulfed by Hoseok’s body. You feel his tears on your head. 

A year later

Jungkook was euphoric when he got your message a week ago. You had asked him to meet you at the same place where he broke your heart once and then in turn you broke his. 

But… 

Today he got a good feeling about it. 

It’s been more than a year since he fucked up and lost you. And as if to redeem himself, he waited for you. 

He checked up on you from time to time. He asked to see you, even though you declined. But what’s more important is that he kept telling himself one day you will be coming back to him. 

And he thinks… today is the day. 

He is not late today, rather he came thirty minutes earlier than the time you decided to meet. However, waiting makes him nervous. And waiting for you is overwhelmingly so. 

The cabin door creaks open and he sees you entering.

It’s been more than a year since he last saw you. If there’s anything that has changed by the time, then it’s that you have gotten even more beautiful. 

You look gorgeous in the midnight blue bodycon dress that you chose to wear today. He can’t help but grasp at your beauty. 

And when you smile at him, fully, he loses his breath. 

How the fuck did I even think I fell out of love with her? he thinks to himself. 

“Hey” you chime in, taking the seat across from him, “you are in time.”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Not this time.” he replies genuinely. But he can see your smile dulling a bit. 

“So..” you start. Jungkook crosses his fingers under the table, “how are you doing, Kook?” 

“I am doing fine, Y/N, at least physically. But mentally, I don’t know. I am- I am not over you yet.” he confesses. 

You sigh, “you should move on, Jungkook. It’s been more than a year. It’s time for you to forgive yourself and move on.” 

“I don’t even want to try, Y/N. I am going to wait for you.” and he is serious about it. 

“Okay. Now let me come to the reason behind wanting to meet you.” you change the topic as you busy yourself in looking for something inside your bag. 

You pull out an envelope and extend it towards him.

One look at it and Jungkook knows what it is and suddenly he can’t breathe at all. 

“I’m getting married next month, Jungkook and I would be very happy if you come to congratulate me and Hoseok.” you look at him as if you are pitying him. 

He laughs. He laughs out loud, “You really are getting married to him?” 

“Yes. Thank you for leaving me back then. If you didn’t leave me, I would have never seen this day or be as happy as I am now.” 

Jungkook tries to find mockery in your voice or in your eyes but what he finds is sincerity. 

You are actually thankful to him for leaving you. 

The heavy door of the waiting room opens as a staff walks in, “ma’am you have a visitor.” she says before standing away from the door and allowing the visitor to come in. 

It’s Jungkook. 

You never expected him to actually come. But he did and you are happy to see him here. 

“Kook.” you call him, making him smile. 

Jungkook ogles at you. You look like a dream come true. You look better than his imagination in which you wore this white gown to take vows with him. 

And it would been him if he was good enough, instead, he had to fuck things up.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. You look perfect.” Jungkook’s genuine words make your heart melt. 

“Thanks. I am glad you came.” 

“I had to. Congratulations. I am happy for you.” Jungkook smiles easily, he extends his hand to invite you into his embrace. 

You accept it. 

A knock rings on the door. 

“Y/N. come out. It’s time.” Mi seon screams from outside. 

“Yeah coming.” you reply, breaking the hug, taking one last look into your ex-boyfriend’s eyes.  

Hoseok had never thought a day like this would come for him as well. 

A day where he would wear an immaculate tuxedo, stand at the pavilion and wait for his bride to walk up to him. 

But it’s happening. 

And it’s happening all because of you. 

It’s safe to say that you have changed his and Sua’s life within this one year. And now he can’t imagine a life where you aren’t there to make it better. 

Sua, too, now loves you more than him, probably. 

His parents love you, his sister cherishes you, his friends call you incredible. 

All in all, he has found heaven in you. And he hopes you found peace in him as well. 

The piano starts playing as you appear at the other side of the aisle, holding your father by his arm. 

You are smiling from ear to ear. Even from a distance he can tell that you are staring right at him. 

You know Hoseok is devastatingly handsome, but he looks even dreamier as a groom. You could cry from just the way he stares at you with eyes full of love. 

Your father squeezes the back of your hand, nodding at you and probably praising your choice in men. 

Initially you were scared of your parents' reaction, of what they might think when they get to know that Hoseok is a single-father and he has never been married before.

But with Hoseok, things can’t go wrong. Your parents accepted him and Sua readily when they got to know his past. 

Now, your parents and Sua are practically inseparable. 

You start walking towards the man of your dream waiting for you to make him yours. 

When you get closer to him, he holds your hands so softly as if you are made of porcelain. 

One by one you take the vows, intertwining your life with his. 

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest says. 

Hoseok lowers his head to catch your lips, “forever?” he asks.

“Forever.” you answer, as you seal your promise for an eternity.      

Taglist 1:-

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Taglist 2:-

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A/N: Thanks thanks thanks to all of you for being incredible readers. I really can't thank you all enough for being so into the story, for interacting with me through the progress, for being as attached to the characters as I am, for being patient whenever I was late to upload. Where Do Broken Hearts Go will remain very close to my heart and your positive reaction is a big part of the reasons why. Just know that Nika loves you. Nika loves every single one of you a ton! <3

[katyawriteswhump]

sleigh bells ring, I'm not listening! (steddie holiday drabble/bingo/whumpcember)

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 5 prompt, Winter Sports; my first @steddiebingo fill, ‘Dustin Henderson,’ and @whumpcember day 21 prompt, ‘bruises.’ (It was originally day 5 prompt, concussion, but I ended up sparing the boys that for once!)

WC: 977; Rating T; CW: None; Tags: established steddie, mild whump hurt/comfort, fluff.  Maths terms provided by my partner. I have no idea what they mean and have doubtless misused them.

Summary: Steve loves all sports. Apart from winter sports. So, when he’s literally dragged from bed to go sledding with Dustin and Eddie, he’s surprised when it turns out rather magical…

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Steve trailed a sled along the snowy track. He glared hotly at Dustin, then pleadingly at Eddie, who trudged on his other side. “It’s too cold for anything other than fucking… sleep.”

Eddie smirked. He didn’t look as miserable as Steve, which was annoying. Dustin, meanwhile, was having none of it:

“Dudes! This is your once-in-a-lifetime embarkation on a voyage of mathematical curiosity. Today, we’re exploring chaos theory! Mandelbrot bifurcations! Feigenbaum constants! You’re never gonna paddle those icy waters alone.”

“You wanna stick a pin in that balloon-head?” Steve asked Eddie, “or should I?” 

Eddie laughed then sneezed dramatically. Steve stopped dead. “You know what? I love sports. Apart from winter sports. Skiing. Luge. Skating. All that shit. Hate it.”

“You worship at the altar of ice-hockey,” pointed out Eddie. 

“Whose side are you on?” Steve nearly yelled: I’m not being dragged into this by a pair of sport-hating geeks! Instead, he mumbled, pathetically, “Wanna go home.”

By now, they’d reached Hawkins’ top sledding slope. A smattering of kids zoomed down the super-compacted ice. Eddie regarded the scene with a misty smile, which shocked Steve out of his grouchiness.

“I’m in, Henderson.” Eddie’s smile evolved into a full-on-adorable, dimpled grin. “I got great memories of this spot—me, mom, and a big-ass tea-tray. Who needs a goddamn sled?”

“We do.” Dustin whipped out a stopwatch. “We’ve a shitload of interesting variables at play here. Let’s go.”

‘Science’ commenced. Dustin sledded first, then Steve, who gritted his teeth and endured. Eddie went last, screaming his way down the slope… 

“…like a little girl,” said Dustin to Steve, super-earnest. “A little girl who’s in need of hugs, Steve.”

“Bullshit on so many levels.” Steve pointed to a nearby grade-school sledder. “She isn’t screaming. And my boyfriend’s scream is totally metal.”

“Okay. Just, y’know…” Dustin mumbled behind his hand, as Eddie approached with the sled. “He needs more hugs.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. Huh?

After several more runs, Dustin leafed through his notebook. “Interesting data. Now, both of you—on the sled.”

Steve planted frozen fists on his hips: “No way. Not big enough.”

“It’s fine,” said Eddie. “Totally bigger than mom’s tea-tray.”

Steve silently surrendered yet again. Eddie treasured memories of his mom, who passed when he was young. This clearly meant a lot to him, as well as Dustin, so Steve took pole position to steer—as much as anyone could with a dumb rope. Eddie perched behind, wrapping his arms around Steve, notching his chin on Steve’s shoulder. It was super-cosy, and… yeah, super-nice. They didn’t usually get this close in public, plus they’d avoided showing affection in front of their friends lately because—

“Ready?” yelled Dustin.

Steve’s nerves jangled. Eddie yelled: “Hell, yeah! Steddin’ with the Devil!”

“3, 2, 1, GO!”

Heel-power propelled them off. Wind whooshed through Steve’s hair, while Eddie unleashed his most deafeningly ‘metal’ scream yet. It was a bumpy ride, but mega-fun. Steve found himself grinning madly, though fearing for his hearing, and then:

“Shiiiiit!” He spotted the rock way too late. On impact, the world flipped, and he was thrown from the sled, landing heavily on his side. He suppressed a whimper, because something else mattered way more:

“Eddie?”

His heart lurched to his throat, pounding madly even after he spotted Eddie lying in the snow. Steve scrambled up, limped gingerly over: “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie finished his snow-angel and sat up, shaking his hair like a wet dog: “Mom said it ain’t sledding till you crash.”

 “All good, gentlemen?” panted Dustin, skidding to join them.

“Apparently.” Steve dumped his bruised butt down next to Eddie.

“Great,” said Dustin. “Why aren’t you hugging?”

 “Uuuuuuh, should we be?”

“Yes!” shouted Dustin, and it all blurted out. Apparently, ‘science’ had a secondary agenda.  “You used to be all lovey-dovey smoochy! Lately, you’ve hardly touched. I figured if I got you squished on a sled, adrenaline rushing, old magic might rekindle?”

Steve merely gawked at Dustin, whose recent weirdness began to make sense. Eddie, meanwhile, threw his arms around Steve’s neck and spoke between bursts of crazy laughter: 

“The issue here, Dustin Henderson, is lack of Party communication. We stopped touching, because Max said we made her wanna hurl. Mike complained it was creepy! We’re still in love! I mean, when you thumped on our door today, we were totally fu… cuddling.” 

“Oh,” said Dustin, visibly brightening. Eddie resumed cackling into Steve’s shoulder. Steve took his cue to fling both arms around Eddie and burrow close for warmth.

Once back home, they got dry and toasty, gently kissing each other’s more visible bruises. Eventually Eddie, stretched out on the bed, noticed Steve’s slight limp. “You got another bruise to show me, Baby?”

Steve tugged down his pants, revealing a mottled rainbow-spectrum of colors spreading up his thigh and ass-cheek to his hip. He coyly arched a brow. “Honest to God, today was a blast and totally worth it… but, yeah, that spot requires serious kissing better.”

“Looks too sore even for kisses.” Eddie flung open his arms. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t you dare be. It was my shitty steering.”

“C’mere. Right now.”

Steve obeyed, rolling back into the enthusiastic lovemaking that science and goddamn Henderson had interrupted. He bitched about his bruise, but only slightly—especially as Eddie lavished extra care on nearby areas, with lips and tongue, to distract him.

“Sledding again tomorrow?” suggested Eddie, much later, while they snuggled inside watching fresh snow falling.

“You are joking, right?”

“Don’t worry, Stevie. Your ass is safe… though maybe not from me.”

Eddie’s answer segued into a sweet, lingering kiss, which Steve returned enthusiastically. He’d learned important shit today about his two favorite people. Eddie loved sledding. And Dustin loved his friends loving each other. Steve still blindsided himself, breaking the kiss to whisper:

“Maybe more sledding next week?”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[cieloclercs]

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 7/7 (read part 6 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. angsty but with a lil catharsis at the end (yes it’s a happy ending i’m too weak to keep the angst up 😔) swearing as per, your bestie and charles SCHEMING, y/n being a teenyyy bit annoying but it’s fine she’s heartbroken we accept it 😚

pairing. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. FINAL PART!! it’s been a long time coming (sorry about that sixth form’s been kicking my ass 😔) but thank you to everyone that has been interacting with this series! i love and appreciate you all sooooo much!! 🫶 anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy the finale of what would you say (if i told you i love you)? 💗

liked by charles_leclerc and 37,846 others

yourusername happier than ever 🩶

view all comments…

username me when i lie:

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username ok billie eilish

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username it’s so weird to me that everyone says she loved him like they confirmed anything? they were literally just friends 😑

username that may be so, but when two people look at each other the way y/n and charles do there’s NO WAY they’re just friends…

yourfriend you know there’s something called taking my advice maybe you should try it sometime 😃

username erm hello?? excuse me??

username what’s going on here then? 😳

arthur_leclerc sure you are ☺️

username the SHADE 😭

username arthur is truly one of us 🫡

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username why does this feel like a cry for help

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username shut up she’s still y/n 🙄 don’t be one of those girls, people are allowed to change !!

username PREACH

leclerc_pascale ma fille pour toujours / my girl forever 💗

yourusername 🫶

username hey y/n! if you are truly happy then i am so proud of you <3 but i know that sometimes say things to hide the pain they’re actually feeling. what i’m trying to say is please don’t think you need to act as if you’re doing great all the time! we all love and support you no matter what, and all we want is for you to be happy! 💗

yourusername i think this is the sweetest comment i’ve ever received?? 🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words and for checking in! i love you ❤️

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*yourusername liked this comment

charles_leclerc all i want is for you to be happy.

*charles_leclerc deleted this comment

username CHARLES WE SAW THAT

username he really thinks he’s slick 😭

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username how was it up for less than a minute and yet we literally all saw it 😭

username lol it’s expose charles day

username he really thought he could hide from us 🙄 rookie mistake

liked by formula1updates and 107,837 others

f1gossip BREAKING! Charles Leclerc and Y/F/N, best friend of Y/N Y/L/N spotted together in Monaco! Do we smell a backstabber? 👀

view all comments…

username YOU WHAT NOW

username THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING

username i actually have no words.

username oh 😃

username guys it might not be what it looks like!! we don’t know the whole story

username well it looks pretty incriminating to me…

username i knew she was a fake little bitch 🤢

username RIGHT?? i’ve always said it and no one ever listened to me!!

username she’s definitely jealous of y/n 🙄

username you guys sound so pathetic right now you don’t even know the whole story??

username right all the fake y/n fans talking shit about y/f/n need to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

username LITERALLY the switch up is insane 🫠

username yes!! first of all no one knows the full story, and second y/f/n has been nothing BUT supportive of y/n throughout this whole situation! switching up on her now is really unfair ☹️

yourfriend this is unbelievable. f1gossip you have no right to post this without any understanding of the full story.

username yourfriend stop trying to play innocent we all now you’re a fake backstabbing skank 🤮

username username if you can’t think for yourself without trusting everything the TABLOIDS tell you then just do us all a favour and shut the fuck up 🥰

yourusername

seen by charles_leclerc and 21,673 others

responses:

yourfriend thank you, y/n

liked by formula1updates and 22,736 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc spotted with a HUGE bouquet of flowers outside Y/N Y/L/N’s apartment in Monaco! Is reconciliation on the cards? 👀

view all comments…

username OH MY GOD IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨 THIS IS NOT A DRILL GUYS I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username charles i am PRAYING that you don’t fuck this up i need my otp back together 🙏🙏🙏

username he’s finally come to his senses

username NOW THAT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

username y/n girlie for the love of god you better not shoot him down after all this 😔🙏

username after all of what? a bouquet of flowers? he needs to try a bit harder than that 🙄

username have you not seen him grovelling AT HER FEET for the last six weeks 😀

username tbh if charles leclerc turned up at my door with flowers i’d melt. no matter how angry i was 🤷‍♀️

arthur_leclerc FINALLY

username ARTHUR 😭

username arthur bestie what are you doing here 😭

username he’s so us

username he stans charlesy/n just as much as we do 🫶

one week later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 647,937 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername i’d say i love you too ❤️‍🩹

view all comments…

charles_leclerc thank you for giving me a second chance, mon amour ❤️

yourusername always 💫💗

charles_leclerc i love you so so much

charles_leclerc i’m the luckiest man in the world

yourusername aw charlie 🥹

username such a SIMP

username simp charles is my favourite charles

username oh he IN LOVE in love 🫠

username hold up so everyone was talking shit about y/f/n but the whole time she was actually plotting to get charles and y/n back together… 😳

username yep…everyone say sorry and thank you y/f/n right now!

username sorry yourfriend and thank you for doing god’s work 😔🙏

yourfriend you’re welcome guys ☺️

arthur_leclerc DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT

arthur_leclerc ELEVEN FUCKING YEARS

arthur_leclerc I DESERVE COMPENSATION FOR EVERY TIME I’VE HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU TWO PINE OVER EACH OTHER BUT NEVER DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT

yourusername way to expose us arth 😔

charles_leclerc sorry? 😃

username CRYING ARTHUR IS SO DONE WITH THEIR SHIT

username arthur is the true winner in this situation 😭

username bless his poor charlesy/n heart 😔

username yourusername charles_leclerc LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO THE POOR MAN. YOU’VE BROKEN HIM

joris_trouche it’s about damn time

yourusername ok lizzo

username THIS IS SO ADORABLE IM SOBBING

username FINALLY

username THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED. THAT’S IT MY LIFE IS COMPLETE

username ok but did you NEED to put us through all that pain? 😅

username it’s called character building bestie! we survived the charlesy/n friendship breakup so now we can get through anything! 😃

username the first picture 🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale Ma belle future fille / my beautiful future daughter 💗😉

charles_leclerc maman 🤦‍♂️

arthur_leclerc just propose already you’ve been saying you want to marry her since you were sixteen

charles_leclerc ARTHUR

yourusername CRYING 😭

yourfriend ARTHUR YOU DID NOT 😭😭

username IM SCREAMING ARTHUR WHY WOULD YOU EXPOSE HIM LIKE THAT

username poor charles can’t say anything without arthur exposing him 😔

landonorris i better be invited to the wedding 😏

carlossainz55 me too! 😘

charles_leclerc absolutely not.

yourusername landonorris carlossainz55 ignore him! of course you’re invited 😃

scuderiaferrari Our favourite couple ❤️

yourusername 🥰🫶

username even ferrari’s a charlesy/n fan

scuderiaferrari username *Biggest fan 😉

lorenzotl congrats to my favourite sibling (and charles) 😚

yourusername love you enzo ☺️💕

charles_leclerc rude??? 😒

username i love how they left us in suspense for a whole week after that gossip post and only NOW decided to confirm it ☺️☺️

username ROLL THE DAMN CREDITS.

taglist: @cxcewg @incoherenciass @formula1mount @allywthsr @meabhcavanagh @driveswiftly13 @zzblooda @gaslysainz @be-your-coffee-pot @siovhanroy @hwienv @xoxozoedagyal @alireads27 @glow-ish @eviethetheatrefreak @nmw-am @buendiabebeta @laneyspaulding19 @imthebadguyyy @marialovesf1 @f1wintermoon13 @topaz125 @aundercover @sainzluvrr @sunny44 @justdreamersdream @lordperceval-16 @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @midnightappleade @remuslupinsbitch @taylorslovesswifties13 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lillianacristina @lifeless-firefly @bbygrlllllll @405rry @1655clean @drthymby @ang-26 @dhe3reads @mishaandthebrits @caitdaniels @missenclod @lovely-blackinnon @smnthnclj @sofs16 @dark-night-sky-99 @c3leste888 @christcat @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @cixrosie

thank you all so much for the love on this series! i’m going to miss it 🥲

[mangyraccooon]

Thoughts about Modern day Dragon him being a late diagnosed autistic

Dragon would be one of those people who knew they were different from a young age but never could figure it out because either parents (who didn’t want a ‘different’ child) or becoming so high masking that it was very difficult to tell. (Probably a mix of both)

When Dragon is 40ish he takes luffy to the doctor for a routine checkup.

The doctor tells him his son is most likely autistic.

She also tells him it’s an inherited trait

Dragons reaction is “ah.”

He never thought luffy was different. That wasn’t true he understood luffy was different but it wasn’t a bad thing in his eyes.

Unknowingly at 7 years old dragon put on a mask. It starts to crack 33 years later in a doctor’s office.

The doctor gives him some pamphlets and online resources to go through. He spends the next 24 hours going through it all + several online quizzes.

Only the next morning when he opens his closet fully prepared to go into work: when he sees all his shirts and suit jackets. That he realizes he has no idea who the fuck he is as a person.

Luffy finds him crying in a mess of ripped silks and cotton.

Luffy crawls into his lap and starts telling him about a new beetle species found in South America.

Dragon calls them both in sick and lets his son decide the schedule for the day.

Later that night he goes through old boxes in the attic. Trying to find who the fuck he is- was- could’ve been.

He finds a couple old albums, his guitar, luffys baby blanket and…

Crying is natural and normal, he has to tell himself. You are not weak for crying twice in one day.

The ring is old, it was his mother’s. It had been left with his secretary along with luffy asleep in his bassinet.

“Sometimes I feel like you just put on this face and I don’t even know which one is the real you; or if there is a real you”

He would never know how right he had been.

Dragon quits his job; he can’t stand it anymore. The partners beg him to stay, he’s the best lawyer they have. But the feeling of a suit collar now feels like a noose.

Borsalino is the only one who still contacts him after.

Dragon has money; so much money. Other than luffy and silk shirts that didn’t scrape his skin there was very little dragon spent money on.

So he glides, spends more time with luffy. Falls into a depressive episode so bad he has to stay with his mother. Tsuru purses her lips when he tells her and dragon can’t help but feel a little angry.

“You knew.”

“I suspected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed to be fine.”

But dragon hadn’t been fine, he had been miserable. It was only now he could see how miserable he had been.

He cooks with his step mother who teaches him how to make a puff pastry. Luffy meets a boy down the street who also loves bugs. Life goes on.

Luffy gets a assessment and official diagnosis

The adhd part wasn’t that surprising to Dragon or anyone within 5 seconds of meeting luffy. his son is (affectionately) a human bounce ball.

Dragon gets an official diagnosis and sends a photo of him posing with it to borsalino. Borsalino sends a photo of himself and an online quiz. And dragon understands not everyone needs the word of a doctor to know who they are.

Garp barges into his life and demands he “stop being a freeloader and get a job.” Before flopping on the couch and doing just that.

Dragon gets the drag bar gig out of spite. Iva is the best worst thing that has ever happened to him. After finding out he knew guitar the queen needled him until he started practicing again out of spite (once again he had to stop using that as motivation)

The guitar strings cut at his fingertips.

Garp sets him up on a blind date, which ends with both him and rouge laughing themselves silly. Apparently garp had taken dragons “I like dick” comment to mean anyone who was in possession of a penis (even if it was silicone.)

He turns 42 and has to valiantly fend off Luffy, Ace and Rouge from eating his rack of ribs.

Iva gets him up on stage eventually (he was fine behind the bar)

He did like the eyeliner though and how his shoulders looked in the dress (but that was a thought for another day)

The band thing was a joke (or started as one) rouge sang, dragon played bass, iva played electric and kuma drummed his heart out.

Then it became less of a joke.

It was late, the porch was empty and the moon twinkled. Dragon cradled the phone in his hands. They had gotten a record deal.

He punched in the number slowly.

He was 45 now, he could do this.

The phone rang as he held it up to his ear.

His palms were sweaty.

Voicemail

“I uh-“ what was he supposed to say? “Hi, it’s been awhile. A long time actually- fuck I think I could tell you the exact date if I wasn’t drunk. But- you probably dont want to hear that huh?” He laughed, his breath coming out in a small cloud in the autumn air.

“So a lot happened, since you left. And I don’t blame you for leaving- just so we are clear. Yeah uhmm. So the band. I’m part of a band now surprise! We got a record deal and it made me realize I still- well that is, when I was told. I realized, your the only one I wanted to tell”

“And not in a bragging way!” He added hastily

A beeping noise, indicating the end of the message

“Wani I-“

But the message ended

-should I make this into an actual thing? Lemme know

[allmyocsarebritish]

Unspoken words, still recieved

Pairing: Alastor X reader

Warnings(?): fluff, mentions of drugs and alcohol, 5+1

Husk

~

Husker was the first to know about your feelings towards his overlord. It had been a long, stressful day filled with Charlie's 'bonding exercises', and you wanted nothing more than to crash at the bar with a strong drink in hand. So, that was how you ended up swirling a glass of alcohol, taking the occasional sip which scorched your throat and fogged your troubled mind. Naturally, in your tipsy state your tongue was greatly loosened. Husker knew this; he was an experienced bartender, and used to listening to the bitching and whining of those intoxicated. What he didn't anticipate was exactly what slipped out.

"What would you do if you really liked someone, but you knew that they hated that kind of thing? And they'd probably hate you too if they found out?" You asked, lazily drawing circles on the counter top with your finger. Husk sighed deeply in slight irritance, once again ready to assume the role of therapist, offering a listening ear to your irrelevant problems.

"I wouldn't know, kid. I lost the ability to feel years ago." He continued to wipe the countertop, a slight frown prevalent on his extended eyebrows (what kind of description is that lmfao).

"Pfft, edgelord." You scoffed light heartedly, to which Husk offered a small smile of amusement, still not meeting your eyes.

"I guess I'll just keep it all to myself then. I doubt Al would appreciate any sort of elaborate romantic gesture anyway." You downed the last of your drink, hopping off of your stool and fishing into your pocket for change. Husk's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Radio Demon, a shadow of concern crossing his features. He gently grasped your sleeve as you reached out with a few coins, tip included, stopping you from placing them on the counter.

"Al? As in Alastor? Oh, Y/N, you've got to be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes narrowed at this. You expected the miserable old bartender to be disapproving, but hearing him voice his doubts was unpleasant to say the least.

"No, I don't think I am."

Husk rolled his eyes, your sleeve now firmly held between his claws, in a way that would rip the fabric should you try to pull away.

"Listen, kid. I know I'm not here to be your pop or anything but please, for the love of everything, stay safe. He's a dealmaker, and I wouldn't put anything past him." He could feel the invisible neon green leash uncomfortably cold against his furry neck.

"Fuck off, Husker. I can look after myself. Thanks for the drink." You scoffed, pulling away, not caring for the fresh tear in your shirt.

Husk's eyes continued to fix on the direction you exited long after your shadow had disappeared.

"Good luck, kid."

~

Charlie

Charlie was next to know, which, was inevitably going to happen eventually. It was a few weeks following your drunken outburst at the bar, and you could frequently feel Husk's eyes boring into you when you looked away. The pity was infuriating, who the fuck was he to tell you what your Alastor was like?

Charlie, ever the curious devil, noticed the tension radiating from both you and the cat, and decided to involve herself in an attempt to force the two of you back into your companionship.

"Sooo, Y/N," She clasped her hands together, bouncing up behind you as you crossed through the lobby of the hotel, her doe eyes wide and practically pleading. "I noticed you and Husk fell out. But you seemed so close to him!"

"I mean, not really." You shrugged, already trying to walk away from the awkward conversation. "He gave me whiskey, I paid him, we talked a little. I wouldn't call that 'close'."

"But what happened?" The little hellborn princess was persistent, you'd give her that.

"Husker won't understand that he doesn't dictate how I feel about someone." Deep down you knew that was a massive escalation to the situation. It wasn't Husk's fault, he was trying to keep you safe. But you weren't a child, and certainly not his.

"Wait, how you feel about someone? Y/N, do you have a crush?!"

Shit.

"It- it's not a crush." You fucked up. Big time.

"You have a crush!"

"Charlie! Stop!" Your tone was harsh, potentially too much so, causing the demon to back off slightly, although not completely.

"Oh, okay, well I've been known to be an excellent wingman! Woman? Wingwoman? It doesn't matter, if you feel comfortable I'd be absolutely honoured if you trusted-"

You zoned out halfway through her tangent, not having your usual energy to find amusement in her theatrics. You promptly excused yourself, slipping out of the hotel, preparing yourself to take a walk and clear your mind.

"Princess, I know you want to help her, don't push it. The best thing you can do is let her deal with it herself. Trust me, I'd know." Husk warned following your departure, memories of your hostile response to his advice fresh in his mind.

Charlie absolutely did push it.

In fact, you could probably consider her behaviour that followed for the next two weeks low-level stalking. It was her mission to set you up with whoever you fancied. After all, all she wanted was for you to be happy.

Although, after 14 whole days of trying her hardest, she had almost given up on finding out who it was that caught your eye. That was until she saw you with Alastor. It was subtle, not something anyone would notice had they not been searching. But the level of digging she had done on you made it obvious.

The respect you held for the overlord was unmatched by any other. Your usual fairly hot-headed personality had much less of a bite, more aimed towards others than the radio star. Not to mention the way your eyes lit up as soon as he entered the room.

Oh.

Well, this was a spanner in the works she didn't expect. But it was alright, if there was a way for you and Al to be together, Charlie would do her best to help you both reach that conclusion.

~

Vaggie

Naturally, as soon as Charlie knew of your feelings, so did Vaggie. This was to be expected, even though you weren't necessarily aware that the princess was onto you, it wasn't rocket science that word would pass eventually.

"I just need to find a way to set them up! Oh Vaggie, how cute would they be?!"

Charlie paced through their shared bedroom, ranting to her girlfriend as the fallen angel sat on the bed.

"Cute? Alastor?" Vaggie snorted, refusing to accept that as a way to describe him.

"But Vaggie!! Imagine them together! Oh, she could absolutely soften him up! Imagine Alastor all sweet and in love! Maybe it'll push him into redemption and they can be all smiling and happy in heaven!!"

"Babe," Vaggie interrupted the ceaseless yapping (I'm so sorry but there's no other way to accurately phrase it lmao. Charlie's a yapper) "Seriously don't push it. You know Alastor isn't the type to go all gooey eyed over some girl, even if it is someone he's close to. So don't expect anything, just leave her to get over it herself."

Charlie drew out a long, exaggerated sigh, showing her disappointment.

"I know you want to make them happy, sweetie, but some things just aren't meant to be." Vaggie held her girlfriend's hands in one of her own, the other resting on the Princess's cheek.

Ultimately, Vaggie held a high level of concern for you in this scenario. She hoped and prayed for your safety, though she knew better than to meddle in your business. Despite this, she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you, the angel would never forgive herself if you made a deal she could have prevented. Of course, none of this she could voice to Charlie; her girlfriend adored Alastor and looked up to him, so she opted to keep this to herself, as she hoped you would do also.

~

Angel

Angel was someone in the hotel whom you truly did consider a friend. And, friends trust friends, or at least according to your wasted brain they did. So, you came clean to the spider, and, in the process, subjected yourself to an eternity of even more torment. For fuck's sake, you were already in hell.

"Angel?" You asked cautiously, tone sending a shiver of worry into the demon. Your voice held an aura of seriousness, something that made him rather uncomfortable.

"Ya'lright, toots?" He asked, his own words reflecting the slight anxiousness you had bestowed.

"Yeah, just got a 2am confession to make." You responded, eyes focusing on the ceiling, your body draped over Angel's bed. The two of you were sprawled over it with your heads together in the middle, although the spider was substantially closer to toppling off than yourself. He chuckled at your revelation, feeling the slight worry vanish.

"Well, then go ahead."

You took a deep breath, drug induced confidence already beginning to ebb. Another long drag of your joint however, and sobering up was no longer a cause for concern. Yet.

"You know Alastor?"

"Yeah?" Angel asked, already suspicious of how this was going.

"I'm just saying-"

"HeAr mE oUt" Angel mocked, to which you swatted his arm, leading to the star erupting into a fit of laughter at you retaliation.

"You're inta Smiles?!" Angel laughed "Well, Sugar tits, now I've seen everythin!"

"Shut the fuck up, Anthony." You grumbled, despite suppressing a smirk at Angel's antics. There was no getting yourself out of this one now.

~

Niffty

Niffty was not one you were expecting to have to explain yourself to. But, being the nosy little bug she was, you realised only too late that she was peering at your phone screen as you texted Angel Dust.

"You like Alastor?"

"What? No! I-" Niff's singular, unblinking eye bore directly into you soul, unsettling you and making your mouth run dry with unease. You sighed, holding up your hands in submission.

"Maybe."

"I think you should go tell him! You know he really likes you too? I honestly can't blame you, he is a bad boy" the little bug let out an unhinged, slightly manical laugh. You cringed at the way she referred to your Alastor, almost entirely missing the part where she said he liked you back.

Wait.

He liked you back?

You tried your bloody hardest not to raise your hopes after that one, this was Niffty we were talking about. But regardless, there was a possibility!

"Wait, he likes me too?" You asked, trying not to show the way adrenaline and excitement pumped through your body at this potential revelation.

"Oh, yeah. I heard him talking to Rosie about it a couple weeks 'go. Said it was a 'disgusting weakness he couldn't show to anyone'"

Oh.

Well.

That wasn't exactly helpful.

But at least he liked you back?

"So what did she say?!" You asked, suspense rising.

"Who?" Niffty asked, eyes wide and staring at you in utter bewilderment.

"Rosie!" You responded incredulously.

"About what?"

"Alastor!"

"Oh! She said that he should get over it and just tell you, that he'd feel better and even if you didn't feel the same way you'd understand 'cause you're human too. And if not he could just eat you."

"What?!!"

"Although I might have made that last part up." She tapped a spindly finger against her chin in concentration, trying her hardest to recall the conversation.

Your brows raised in concern before shaking your head and resigning not to question her.

"Okay, well, thanks, Niff. I gotta go now but I appreciate you telling me!" Your exit was rushed, but you really didn't want Niffty to catch you delighting in your newfound optimism. (Kicking your heels and squealing).

~

Alastor

Two days. You had spent two days preparing what you would say to Al and how, yet no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't for the (after) life of you think of what to do or say.

The worst part was the fact your favourite bartender was no longer there for you to turn to when life got tricky. So, you resolved to drowning your sorrows in your own alcohol, and, in the process, inexplicably and subconsciously avoiding your Alastor.

The Radio Demon did not like this.

Every time he descended to the lobby you were missing. Every time he walked to Cannibal town you weren't accompanying him. Every time he broadcasted you weren't waiting for him outside the tower.

This was becoming a problem; Alastor held you so highly in his estimations that he found your presence more than tolerable. So the fact that you just up and disappeared left him feeling an odd sensation.

Emptiness? It was strange, unpleasant and Alastor didn't like it. He was no fool: he knew of his feelings for you, and, after months of denial, finally reached some sort of acceptance of the merciless scenario he found himself in. Such a powerful overlord resigned to a schoolboy crush. Pathetic, really.

But, this loneliness wouldn't do. No, it wouldn't do at all. So, Alastor was going to do something about it. Force proximity with you? Of course not, that was far too desparate, even for these circumstances.

His eyes trailed across the lobby before landing on the bar, and subsequently, the bartender. Bingo!

"Husker! My dear fellow~"

"Go fuck yourself." The cat raised a middle finger to Alastor, bottle held to his lips and tilted.

"Now is that any way to talk to your old pal?" Al taunted. Oh this was fun; how he adored pissing off Husk. In fact, he almost even forgot the motivation for his inquiry.

You.

"Say, Husker. Is there a chance that you've seen Y/N around here recently? She seems to be avoiding me for some strange reason."

Husk scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I wonder why."

Alastor's eyes narrowed as his smile tensed. "Careful, my friend." He warned.

"Listen, boss," Venom spiked the cat's tone, insincerity lacing the word. "I haven't seen her in a week or so. We had a... disagreement and she's avoiding me. Go find her yourself if you're so fucking concerned."

Well, that was conclusive. "Indeed I will. So long, Husker!" Al hopped off the barstool and made for your room, hoping you would be there, as to not look a fool.

Yes, that was it.

Raising a fist to the door, the Radio Demon knocked.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

At the third and final knock, you opened the door, recognising the clear, precise knock.

"Hello, my dear!" His transatlantic voice rang out, laced with static as ever.

"Hi, Al." You responded, quiet and solemnly.

"Why so glum? Smile, my dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" His clawed fingers came to rest at the corners of your mouth, delicately and fondly pushing upwards. His own permanent grin softened as he looked at you, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

"Have you been intentionally avoiding me, Cher?" He blurted out, surprising even himself.

"What?! Ha, Al, don't make me laugh! I'd never avoid you, how ridiculous!"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Cher."

"Al."

"Be honest with me."

There it was. That thing he had about him, making it impossible to lie.

"I wasn't intentionally avoiding you." You drew out. " And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"But, why?"

"Because I love you."

After freezing like a deer in headlights, (HA) his face morphed into an expression entirely unreadable, even to you.

Shit.

Fuck.

Bollocks.

You fucked up. That was it. Friendship over. Potentially even afterlife over.

"Al? I'm sorry I-" you were interrupted but the feeling of his arms wrapping around you. It was slow and gentle, as though you were made of fragile porcelain, easily breakable beneath his warm embrace.

"It's okay, Cher"

I love you too unspoken words, yet still received.

Bonus:

You hopped onto the barstool as Husk refused to meet your eyes. A long, awkward silence drew out, and you kicked your legs, fingers drumming on your knee. Realising there was no way the bartender was speaking first, you resolved to dive straight into your apology.

"Husk? I'm sorry. I was a bitch and shouldn't have taken it out on you because you were only trying to keep me safe-"

Your apology was cut short as a shot of whiskey slid across the counter towards you. You smirked and brightened when you looked up to meet Husk grinning at you.

"Well if that wasn't the most insincere fucking bullshit I've ever heard."

You rolled your eyes, downing the alcohol in one, causing your throat to sting and eyes to water.

"Just stay safe, kid. That's all I ask."

"Deal." You joked, sticking out your hand.

"Deal." Husk responded sarcastically, though the both of you knew it was lightheaded. You were just grateful to have your favourite bartender back.

[chaifootsteps]

I don't get this fandom's fixation with insisting Blitzo is the one who views relationships as transactional when there's so many examples of him obviously wanting to have more than that. IMP is basically his attempt to make himself a new family with Loona as his daughter and M&M first as the people he wants to threesome with but more realistically, his friends

Stolas meanwhile behaves in a much more transaction based mindset where he assumes if he gives X he can get Y

he views his cheating on Stella as not counting as cheating because 'cheating implies a betrayal and [Stella] never gave two shits about [him]'. Even though the marriage was arranged and he never loved Stella either (he somehow forgot he burst into tears when he first saw her and was miserable about the whole idea?) he expected Stella to make an effort to love him because that's how marriages work. He didn't seem to appreciate that it being arranged would make his partner's feelings more complex and things might have gone better if he hadn't tried to play happy families with her, despite the fact he also had reservations about the arrangement and is gay so he should be able to empathize with Stella on some level

he assumes giving Via a trip to Loo Loo Land in the hopes of getting back their close bond but it isn't until he actually listens to her that any progress is made (and while on the trip he actively upsets her by harassing Blitzo right in front of her)

but the bigger example of course is Blitzo. he uses the book to get sex out of him, literally describing what they have as 'favors for favors' and 'transactional'

then he lowkey kind of does it again when he uses the crystal in the hopes of getting a romantic relationship in return

Stolas is so fixated on the idea of Blitzo as an object who just fulfils his desires that he punishes him whenever he has a life of his own to attend to (taking Loona for the jab) or whenever Blitzo points out his fantasies are not reality (replying to 'that's a romcom' with 'fuck you'). He's so committed to this that despite knowing Blitzo's insecurities he dances with someone else because that person is giving him attention and that's all that matters.

And when Blitzo doesn't respond to the crystal with what Stolas wanted to get out of the interaction - a romantic partner - Stolas dips immediately. He doesn't explain himself and he doesn't make any attempt to keep Blitzo in his life. It's incel logic at its core - he doesn't want Blitzo in his life even as a friend, despite the fact he supposedly likes him, because ultimately he doesn't actually see Blitzo as a person. he's an object who is supposed to fulfil the transaction Stolas is still unconsciously setting up

worse than that is Stolas has fooled himself into believing he's the good guy who was doing good things for him out of the kindness of his heart. he reframes exchanging his book for sex as 'supporting him', reframes humiliating him in front of a crowd by sexualizing him as 'letting everyone see how much [he] likes [Blitzo]', talks about his passive aggressive texts trying to get Blitzo to still come over on the full moon as 'wanting to spend time with [Blitzo]' even though those nights were probably going to end with Blitzo feeling like he had to sleep with Stolas, again

tl:dr but so far Via is the only person who can break her end of whatever exchange Stolas views an interaction as being without him getting pissy about it, since he tries to empathize with her even when he repeats the exact same mistake 5 minutes later. he doesn't care Stella was forced into marriage too since he expected her to play house because that's what he was doing, and he cares so little about Blitzo despite saying he thinks highly of him that not only does he not want his friendship, he's happy to ghost him after their fight in full moon then for a full month going into ghostfuckers. Blitzo didn't give him what he wanted and Stolas doesn't actually care about his feelings, so Blitzo may as well not exist

This fandom, and increasingly Viv, don't seem to have the first clue what Blitzo is or what his problem is or what he wants. He just does things in whatever order, according to what makes Stolas look better.

[maybeiwasjustjade]

I see so many post constantly degrading Nesta for being so nasty and mean and ungrateful; for using Rhysand’s money and staying on his land (not for free I might add) while refusing to play nice or care.

But isn’t that the bare minimum of what he owes her?

The IC and Feyre dragged Nesta and Elain into their world by manipulating them using their guilt over letting Feyre hunt for those 5 years when they were severely impoverished. Nevermind that Feyre doesn’t know how to cook or clean so someone had to have done that, or that someone was bound to do physical labor anyway. But I digress—the IC gave Nesta so much shit for refusing to be Feyre and Elain’s mom, for not being the one to take care of them by any means necessary (which we know would’ve been through marriage).

So the sisters agreed to help with the Human Queens, putting a major target on their backs. The IC sent away their staff and guards, promised to leave protection that failed miserably. Feyre told Ianthe about her sisters; Rhysand let the Attor live knowing that Hybern would have their location. So the sisters were taken—kidnapped and dragged and thrown into something that turned them into something they weren’t.

Murdered and tortured for however eternity it took to melt the flesh off their bones, for their bones to grow and lengthen, and magic to flow through their veins. There’s another word for this, you know? Nonconsensual body modification. And just because they came out young and beautiful and immortal, everyone around them expected them to be grateful. But what is there to be grateful for, if you were Nesta and Elain? Ripped from their finally stable human lives and love? Forced to join a war that had nothing to do with them until it eventually fucked them over too?

As far as I’m concerned, and how it should’ve been if SJM wasn’t so far up feysand’s ass, whatever debt owed by Nesta and Elain to Feyre was repaid in full when they were murdered over Feyre and the IC’s actions.

Elain came out of that Cauldron catatonic for months. Nesta came out something other, even for a Fae, and dripping with so much power that she made High Lords quake at the sight of her and that damned finger. And in order to spare Elain from further suffering, Nesta took the brunt of their missions and scrying, repressed and depressed as she was. Yet it was still them who killed the King of Hybern, effectively ending the war.

The bare minimum Rhysand owed them afterwards was a fucking lifetime of peace, and to be left alone if they wished with enough money to make a king cry. But that wasn’t enough for him was it? Feyre was pushy because she wanted Nesta around even when Nesta preferred to be literally anywhere else. I can understand that to an extent as a younger sister myself. But she went about it all wrong, and let her mate do what he does best: be a complete and utter bitch.

And if getting sexually assaulted and repeatedly nearly dying finding the Troves for the NC still wasn’t enough to repay whatever fucking ‘debt’ Rhysand and his stans seem to still think she owes (despite the dying and kingslaying), Nesta gave up a significant portion of herself to save Feyre, Nyx, and Rhysand. And despite his gratefulness, he still couldn’t help himself from berating her horribly behind Feyre’s back, even when Feyre herself has told him repeatedly to lay the fuck off her sister.

So, NO. Nesta shouldn’t owe squat to the NC and its shitty High Lord. Pretty sure at this point, he owes her more.

[fall0utmind]

MEDICAL LEAK AU PT 5 UP NOW

AO3 here

Gonna link pt 1-4 below tomorrow (I need to sleep) but for now, find them on my medical leak au tag on my page :)

I am so fucking sorry for the delay!!

Work has been manic, I basically rewrote this whole thing cause I hated it and now I am sick - woooooo

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, I'm actually proud of this one, after the long rewrite.

Please, please, please come talk to me about what you think and what you wanna see!!! I need motivation to finish this.

Normal tags and warnings apply :)

(Tw/ suicidal thoughts, overdoses)

Alex had warned them that this is how Marc deals with things. He bottles it up until he can’t anymore, and then he goes somewhere private where he can lick his wounds and let himself fall apart. Watching Marc be so vulnerable, his usual mask of untouchable indifference falling away, is devastating. Jorge holds Marc closer as he trembles, small tremors wracking his frame. He looks incredibly young, curled up in between the older riders. Marc is completely lost in his thoughts now, distress radiating off him. He has been mostly silent, apart from the occasional miserable noises. Now though, he begins to cry, his face moving to press into Jorge’s shoulder as his body shakes with the force of his sobs, uncaring of who he’s clinging to. Marc and Jorge have never been that close, but the older man feels protective of him, in part because the 2015 fallout centred so much around his championship win, but also because of Dani’s soft spot for Marc. Jorge knows it was a big sign of trust for Marc to allow him to stay and witness this, especially from a man who is usually so guarded.

It’s unclear what Marc is imagining in the depths of his mind, but he has begun to slur words in between his sobs. Most of the words are incoherent, but Valentino’s and Alex’s names are clear, alongside the interchanging wrecked pleas to both end his suffering and let him live. Seeing so clearly the devastation Marc has suffered is horrific for them all, but Alex most of all looks gutted, like his heart has been shattered. He has heard those pleas before, back in 2015 when he found Marc and when he had saved his life.

It is this that prompts Jorge to gently shake Marc to awareness, knowing the pain is too much, too dark. Once the medication wears off, he will be ashamed of his weakness. It does not matter how natural or understandable his reaction is, especially after all the shit he has had to deal with; he hates vulnerability. The only thing his friends can do is sit with him during the fallout.

“Marc”

The younger man stirs slightly, choking on a breath as he sobs. He clutches at Jorge weakly, trying to catch his breath in between his cries.

“Cazzo, Marc, you’re ok, you’re ok.”

*

Marc returns to his body with a pounding head and a sore throat, which only ever occurs when he has cried himself dry. He’s a mess; the memories which assaulted him are still at the forefront of his mind, making him feel sick to the stomach. He is in the weird stage where the medicine is wearing off but still making him feel hazy; everything is soft around the edges. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out. He rubs at his face and notices his cheeks are wet. He would usually be mortified by the idea of crying in front of everyone, but he can't bring himself to care in the circumstances. He feels wrung out and over-tired. He knows his eyes will be red and his face blotchy and he frowns at the thought. Dani breaks the silence first, handing Marc some water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, but also somehow better. I’m sorry for losing it like that-”

Dovi interrupts him before he can finish that thought, fury simmering in his voice.

“Don’t you dare apologise. I don’t care what he taught you about having to hide away, but you don’t have to with us. We know you’re strong, but you don’t have to be strong right now. Not here, not with us.”

Marc gulps back more tears and instead smiles sadly at Dovi, unwilling to touch upon the reference to Valentino. Instead, he turns to look at his younger brother, who looks distraught; it makes him frown slightly. He hates the thought of causing his brother’s sadness. In Marc’s opinions, it is the worst thing he can do, and he has done it often in the last few years. Guilt spikes through him. Alex catches his eyes and shakes his head, knowing exactly what Marc is thinking, as fine-tuned as they are to each other's emotions.

“It’s not your fault, germà. I would take all your pain if I could.”

It makes Marc’s heart break a little. He addresses all of them, his little group of friends, of protectors. These people have seen him at his worst; they have refused to leave when Marc was on rock bottom, and they stuck with him when the world hurled abuse at him. Without them, he would be unmoored in the ocean, drowned by the waves.

“Thank you for staying.”

It’s Jorge who answers.

“Of course.”

*

The waning effects of the medication become clear as the bruises splashed across Marc’s body begin to ache. His shoulder is sore, and the muscles surrounding the joint are tight and stiff, causing him to shift uncomfortably. Alex catches his brother’s poorly concealed winces and hands Marc the rest of his approved dose without a comment. Marc tries to protest; the thought of having more drugs, of needing more, makes him feel queasy. Marc’s relationship with the medication is still rocky. It makes him feel weak and defenceless. It reminds him of dependence, hospital visits, and overdoses. Every time he has those little white pills in his hands, he sees Alex’s blurry face hovering over him, shouting his name, his panic choking him. He hates it. But he knows that if he wants to sleep tonight, he needs to take the stronger stuff that he is prescribed. After Jerez and his arm, normal ibuprofen doesn’t do much for his pain. Alex's eyes are pleading, desperately attempting to convey that Marc is safe here. That he can be vulnerable; he doesn’t have to sit with the pain. The others watch on sadly. Dani feels guilt clawing at him that he didn't notice in 2015 and beyond. When they were still teammates, Marc wouldn’t take the pain medication he was given. Dani always thought it was some weird pleasure of the pain that came from racing and crashing. And then later, perhaps a sick self-punishment for making a mistake. Although he now realises the latter is partially true, he is kicking himself for not digging up a further meaning. He’s not the first to notice Marc’s aversion to medication; it had been a weekly fight with Honda between 2015 and 2020. Nobody was aware of the reason. Why Marc went from hating the sight of the tablets to taking as many as he possibly could after Jerez was less of a mystery. For Marc Marquez, when choosing between not riding or traumatic memories, he’ll always choose the emotional anguish. He swallows the pills.

Alex smiles gently at him, pushing a container of pre-prepared food towards him. Marc turns up his nose; he had already eaten something earlier.

“Eat, you’ll be high as hell if you don’t”

“Not hungry”

Marc pouts, and Christ Alex forgot how obstinate and immature his brother could be, especially after taking his medication. The image of 31-year-old Marc behaving like a toddler makes Dovi chuckle in amusement.

“Marc, you have to eat something-”

“No.”

“Marc, for God’s sake, you can’t just not eat.”

“But I don’t want that. I’ll have a protein bar.”

Their fight is interrupted by a loud knock at the door and a voice calling from outside.

“Marc?”

Anxiety grips Marc, argument forgotten. Instead, he imagines another fervent Rossi fan clawing at their door. Alex jumps to his feet, freezing as the voice speaks again.

“Marc, come on, I know you’re in there, the lights are on.”

Confusion engulfs Alex as he approaches the front of the motorhome, trying to place the somewhat familiar voice. He cautiously unlocks the door and peeks outside, blinking against the darkness. Shock colours his features, his eyes widening as he stares before he comes to his senses and attempts to slam the door shut. The only thing keeping it from closing completely is the foot of their surprise visitor.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alex practically growls

“Is Marc here? I want to talk to him. Please.”

Dani joins him at the door, ready to help if things get out of hand. Pecco glances between the two Spanish men before letting out a melancholy sigh. Bez is fidgeting behind the world champion, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Alex definitely fancies slamming the door then, even more unimpressed by the sight of the younger Italian.

“I hate that all of this has happened, and I hate even more that we’ve been pitted against each other for no reason. I just want to talk; please can I come in?”

Pecco looks so forlorn standing outside their motorhome, his face open and honest. Marc must recognise the voice more than Alex does, as he calls out to his brother.

“Let him in, Alex.”

Marc is most likely not thinking clearly, and Alex is on the verge of saying no. Instead, with a disgruntled sigh, he steps aside to let Pecco in, looks at Bez, and then grudgingly concedes that he cannot tell him to fuck off. After shooting an exasperated look at Dani, he follows him back to the group of athletes lounging on their couches.

It turns out 7 fully grown adults are a few too many in the cramped space. Pecco takes the empty seat next to where Alex has sat back down, Bez awkwardly squeezing next to him. Marc stares with wide, clouded eyes, his hackles raised; he wasn’t expecting Bez. Although his relationship with Pecco is fairly neutral (probably due to his ambivalence to the whole Valentino situation) Bez and Marc have never been on good terms, the younger always jumping at the opportunity to defend his mentor. Marc frowns at them, untrusting, while his friends protectively shift closer to him. Clearly, from their baffled expressions, Bezzecchi and Bagnaia did not expect to see Marc huddled with Andrea Dovizioso and Jorge Lorenzo on the sofa.

*

Pecco is trying his hardest to comprehend the scene before him; he had not anticipated meeting the three retired riders alongside the brothers. He tilts his head slightly, examining the way Jorge and Dovi appear exasperated but pleased to have a clingy Marc Marquez sprawled on them. Marc himself looks pretty content at their proximity, which is strange; he didn’t think Marc was that close to either of them. Bez and he have clearly intruded, obvious from the disarray of everyone in the room. Marc has been crying, which is surprising in and of itself. Additionally, he appears to have taken some pretty strong painkillers – unsurprising after his crash but surprising after the most recent news reports. He turns towards Alex to voice this, but the younger Marquez beats him to it.

“He doesn’t need supervision these days, but if he is bad or, you know, unhappy, I keep his medication and watch over his dosing. He’s fine.”

Pecco nods in understanding, some of his concern lessening. An awkward kind of quiet falls over the group, no one knowing what to say. Strangely, Marc cannot guess the meaning for their visit, too used to other riders only turning up to pick a fight. Pecco is not one for dramatics, preferring to reign in his emotions, unlike his mentor and his friend. Marc breaks the silence first, curiosity beating pride.

“What are you here for, Bagnaia?”

That earns him a wry smile.

“I want to know if you’re okay.”

“Why do you care?”

The others tense in anticipation as Pecco visibly steals himself. He has found the last 24 hours difficult, fighting an internal battle of morality versus loyalty ever since the fateful press conference.

“I don’t hate you, Marc, and I don’t want to. Honestly, I think with time, maybe next year, we could be friends. I respect your talent, and yes, of course, sometimes I think you ride like a maniac, you take risks, and you are brutal on the track. But that is what makes you so good, so impressive. It is why you have 8 championships; I would be a fool to disregard that. Not only that but you love fiercely. I have seen the way you treat your friends and family, and I admire that.”

Marc thinks he might be dreaming; he pinches himself to be sure. Jorge notices and pushes his hand away with a scowl.

“Don’t lie. You all hate me because of him and his lies. I do not need you messing with my head as well. I see the way your academy copies him, echoing his venom, believing every word and taking his side. My life was hell back then, and you weren’t there to witness it. He ruined my life and tore everything from me. I know he thinks that I ruined his career and whatever other poison the man he calls a best friend fed him. I know he was angry and upset. But I was so young. It has been a decade. He won’t leave me alone. Don’t you understand? I raced to die; I risked it all in a passive attempt to not return to the pits. I just wanted him to look back at me; I wanted my hero to forgive me. Then after Jerez, when he didn’t even say anything and I gave up hope, I just took medication to cope. But Valentino and your precious academy can’t see that. No, instead I am reckless and selfish, only thinking of myself. It is not fair; none of it is fair.”

He feels Jorge tense underneath him and that revelation and knows that he has shared too much, but it is too late now. Pecco is observing him with sad eyes and Bezzecchi looks horrified.

“No, Marc, I do not hate you. I am sorry for the loathing you have felt. People like to push Valentino’s legacy onto me. We are not the same person. This is not my battle, and I refuse to be sucked into Vale’s fights from before I was even on the track. It is stupid.”

His eyes are glazed over and wet as he looks directly into Marc's. The anguish in them makes Marc flinch.

“My sister fought similar battles; it was the hardest time of my life.”

He meets Alex’s eyes, sharing a look of understanding at their joint hurt.

“I know you don’t believe me; I see that you have been hurt before. I hate that you have experienced such awful things, and I hate even more how you are being treated for it now. I am sure Alex feels how I do about Carola; it was the worst pain in the world. I would have given my life ten times over for her. It still hurts you and maybe it will always be raw, but I wish it was not like this.”

Bez lays a hand on Pecco’s shoulder, a show of silent support, prompting Marc to turn towards the youngest Italian.

“And you, Bezzecchi? I know you hate me; you have made that abundantly clear, so why are you here?”

Bez looks away at the accusation, guilt filling him. It is not in his nature to question someone he is loyal to.

“I- I realised I maybe took too much at face value. It is true that I did not like you, or more so the way you ride. But I also didn’t understand you or what you were going through. I guess that I want to make amends for that. And I did not want to leave Franci alone.”

Marc hums, considering Bez’s offer, before he nods, too exhausted and intoxicated to give it any more thought. Whatever, if Bezzecchi wants to be here, then fine, so long as he doesn’t cause any more pain. Rather, Marc returns his attention to Pecco with genuineness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry about your sister. It is difficult. I hope she’s in a better place now.”

Pecco’s eyes widen in shock, and Marc huffs out a laugh.

“She’s doing better now, thank you. I think you will get on with her well next year; she comes to all the races with me and the team.”

The Italian smiles tentatively, and Marc smiles back, quietly pleased about this admission from his future teammate. Bez glances between them with a frown, still unsure about the tentative truce they have formed. Instead, he turns towards Dovi, who is still eyeing him suspiciously, and shoots him his very best puppy eyes. The older man rolls his eyes at the display before roping Bez and Pecco into a conversation in rapid Italian about the season so far. Dani and Jorge are whispering quietly, the latter still petting Marc’s hair gently. The atmosphere has returned to its tranquil state, once more lulling Marc into a hazy headspace.

Concern is vibrating through Alex as he watches his brother doze. He can’t help but feel like this has all been a little bit too easy. The boys had looked flustered when they turned up, like they had hurried over, as if something had happened just beforehand. He tries to shake off the feeling, standing up and heading into the kitchenette. He grabs a protein bar from the cupboards and chucks it at Marc when he re-enters the main room, causing his brother to startle and glare at him. Dovi snickers at their antics; of course Alex had not forgotten about their previous scrap, much to Marc’s annoyance.

“Eat it.”

Marc scowls but dutifully rips open the packet and starts munching the bar, not before sticking his tongue out at his brother.

“So mature, Marc.”

This prompts a fit of giggles from the older as he continues to eat. Bez and Pecco look on in bewilderment at this version of Marc, the drugs making him more relaxed than they have ever seen. They are shuffling awkwardly as if they’d be kicked out at any minute, feeling a sensation of imposition at seeing the soft person in front of them. Marc rolls his eyes, looking strung out but content.

“Stay?”

And that settles it.

*

In all his stubborn glory, Marc refuses to move off his friends, citing comfort and fatigue as justifications. Alex grumbles good-naturedly about his perpetual clinginess on pain medication, prompting Marc to snuggle closer to Jorge, rubbing his face into the older man’s shoulder and startling a laugh out of him. Pecco looks at Dovi questioningly, his forehead furrowed into a frown, looking for any indication of jealousy in the older Italian but not detecting any. Jorge instantly notices and does not attempt to conceal his laughter laughter.

“Do not worry about it. Dovi hogs Marc the rest of the time; I am allowed him now whilst he is still high as a kite”

Marc pulls away to pout at him, denial on his lips. Before he can begin his argument, though, Alex speaks up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Tell me about it; you should have seen them earlier. Dovi was practically eating Marc alive with his eyes; it was fucking ridiculous.”

Marc goes bright red at this comment, spluttering out an excuse. Dovi just looks unabashedly smug, meeting Alex’s eyes.

“Hey, when there’s an attractive shirtless man on the sofa when you enter the room, what else are you meant to do?”

Marc directs his glare towards Dovi, an unimpressed frown on his face at the betrayal, but frankly, with the medication softening him, he just looks cute. Dani and Jorge are cracking up at the thought, which only causes Marc to get more annoyed, his cheeks flaming hot.

“Ah, I did not know that you two-”

Both Dovi and Marc jump to correct that assumption. Stumbling over each other to assure Pecco that they are not dating, despite what it looks like. Dani has been suspiciously quiet for most of the conversation, only now turning towards Marc with an insolent smile, meaning that he’s about to say something that Marc won’t like.

“Didn’t stop you from fucking in the past.”

You could hear a pin drop. Alex is whipping his head between his brother and Dovi, his jaw dropped in shock. Marc somehow goes even redder before shoving his face into his hands and groaning, confirming Dani’s statement and prompting the entire group to lose it. Dovi just looks proud and completely unashamed, turning back to Jorge and Dani with a raised eyebrow.

“Like you two can talk.”

“Touché.” replies Jorge with a shrug, hand on Dani’s knee.

Alex feels like he’s losing grip on reality,

“When? When the hell did you two hook up?”

“Ah, 2017, 2018, on and off” answers Dovi.

The others are laughing hard now, even Bez and Pecco giggling at the horrified expression on the youngest Marquez’s face.

Alex speaks once more, recovering quickly as though he is clearly used to his brother’s antics. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice,

“Jesus Marc, what is it with you and shagging older men?”

Pecco chokes at that comment, wheezing a breath through the shock. The others are basically in tears and even Bez is grinning. Marc just looks at his brother’s smirking face and promptly lobs a pillow in his direction - it hits him in the face, causing Marc to crack up. When they all catch their breath, Pecco broaches something that has played on his mind all day.

“Valentino had mentioned something earlier, about you and Dovi-”

Pecco immediately realises his mistake in bringing up Vale. The room pauses awkwardly, and all eyes turn to Marc, whose eyes are still foggy, his limbs lose. It causes him to speak without thinking.

“Ah, he is being a dick; he saw me in Dovi’s jumper and jumped to conclusions. Lord knows why he cares.”

“When the fuck did you see Valentino?”

“Ah, just before the sprint race, he cornered me, spilling some bullshit about ruining the race and being attention-seeking. You know what he is like. He always has loved to make sure I feel small.”

He turns his doe eyes towards Alex,

“It still hurts to hear him say those things about me. It hurts to look into his eyes and see fury and hatred. Not as much as it did then, but still”

Pecco realises then just how out of it Marc must be to let that slip. He gulps, uncomfortable with the pain in his voice, pain that he would usually hide away from the world. Bez looks away. Watching tonight’s interactions brings some new perspective to the academy riders- the quiet beginnings of doubt about their unquestioned deity. It’s difficult to reconcile Vale, their selfless teacher and friend, to Valentino Rossi, who had a rivalry with Marc so fierce the younger had been left picking up the pieces. The Marc in front of them is not the dangerous, deceiving rider they were taught about. This Marc looks at his brother and friends like they hold the universe; he is strong but soft around the edges. He is funny and unabashed in his affection. He loves fiercely and is loved unconditionally in return, a true sign of his character.

Alex is looking at his brother with such sadness in his eyes, reflecting his pain. He does not respond to Marc; he just holds out his hand. It is Jorge who speaks instead.

“I was so angry at Valentino in 2015. So angry at myself for not warning you. I saw it coming from miles away because Rossi could never deal with threats to his success.”

Bez begins to open his mouth, but Pecco elbows him, hard, well aware that now is not the time to stick up for their mentor, no matter how difficult it is to hear. Jorge goes to continue but is interrupted by another forceful knock on the door; it’s Alex who yet again opens it, finding himself face to face with an uncomfortable-looking Luca. The night is getting weirder and weirder.

“Is Pecco here? Or Bez? Nobody knows where they’ve gone.”

Alex opens the door wider, letting Luca see the two Italians on the sofas.

Luca steps inside, shutting the door softly behind him after glances outside worriedly. He gives the boys a pointed looks as he urges them up.

“Come on, we need to go!”

“What why?”

Bez was just starting to feel comfortable in this company; he doesn’t particularly want to leave right now. Luca looks away,

“Look, we just really need to go.”

There is another harsh knock on the door before it flies open. Valentino is standing at the threshold, staring blankly at the spectacle before him.

“What the fuck is going on?”

[starryylies]

Tf-141 and Roblox.

<This is a kinda satire post cuz I’m stupid and I can’t think. Im so sorry if its really out of character and stupid but hope you enjoy>

Reader is younger (19-20), cussing, mention of bullying kids (satire), ooc, live love Roblox and yes

~ Me on Roblox ~

Price-

-he didn’t know what Roblox was until you explained the whole thing to him.

-he first thought it was a blocks game for kids

-he calls it roadblox 💀

-you made him start off playing speed run with you since you both could play together and race :D

-but long story short he could not finish through the first level.

-he always strayed away from the path and ended up dying more than 7 times in 5 minutes.

-easy to say he got frustrated and stopped playing the game :(((

-you convinced him to try another game which is easier Better for beginners

- he agreed and you made him play tower of hell

- he hates it.

-played speed draw once and got annoyed that his masterpiece of a drawing lost to a scrambled egg.

-doesn’t play Roblox again. Buys you robux though.

Simon-

-‘’what the fuck is robust love!?!?’’

-‘siiii it’s robux’

-‘I ain’t playing that

-‘you don’t have to play just pay 🥺’

-‘I ain’t paying for that unless I know what this shit is’

- he regrets saying that.

-you made him play aimblox.

-he fails miserably.

-calls it a stupid game for kids (HOW DARE HE!?!)

-you get pissed at him. (Pissed as in you don’t talk to him for a day)

-he makes it up to you by buying robux.

-(love is in the air again 😍)

-won’t ever call it a stupid kids game again. (Learnt his lesson)

-you find him trying to play Roblox again when he’s alone, trying to get better.

-he will deny that he enjoys the game till the end of time.

-he reaches lvl70 in a week.

-blames you for making him addicted to the game.

-loves you though. (Loves the game too won’t admit it though)

Johnny‘’Soap’’MacTavish-

-likes shooting games a lot.

-plays lots of themmmm.

-has a family with three kids in Brookhaven with two pet chickens which he sometimes eats.

-(I’m vegetarian)

-you’re his family on Brookhaven and he named the kids with your name and his name mixed.

-will fight kids in speed draw. Literally.

-jk he doesn’t bully kids he just starts writing in hashtags when he’s pissed. Or Scottish.

-loves breaking into other peoples (gaz’s) home in Brookhaven.

-loves going to those restaurant games with you.

Kyle ‘gaz’ Garrick-

-pro gamer.

-loves zombie uprising and many shooting games.

-loves those short horror story games.

-loves going on them with you to scare the shit outta you. (He’s the one who gets scared)

-pretty rich in Brookhaven.

-has lots of robux on him.

-has finished all the stages in speed run with all the dimensions.

-pro in tower of hell, like actual pro.

-tried playing mimic, he never tried again.

-plays the special forces stimulator just to make fun of it.

-his house in Brookhaven always gets broken into.

-realises it’s soap breaking into his house.

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊

[cobra-creampuff]

anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.

the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.

no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.

he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.

he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.

he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!

(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)

now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️

that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.

mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.

oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.

there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!

and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.

it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.

like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.

and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.

and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.

and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??

so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?

[physalian]

"Dear Newbie Writers"...

Mmmm I really want to critique this article but the rest of it is behind a paywall and attacking only the first half of his argument seems petty.

But fuck it I’mma do it anyway, because I saw the headline and I couldn’t resist.

The furthest I am able to read without paying for it is:

—

Here’s the four-step process to writing success that’s being passed around the Internet as if it was a jar of pickled wisdom:

Choose a niche.

Publish consistently.

Gain traction.

Profit.

And here’s what it usually ends up looking like:

Choose a niche.

Publish consistently.

Wonder where the heck everyone is.

Keep publishing.

Hello?!

Keep publishing.

Anyone out there?!

Keep publishing.

Keep publishing.

Keep publishing.

Get sick of publishing.

Give up.

Crickets.

Consistency, consistency, consistency. That’s what everyone preaches. And there’s nothing wrong with it per se. But consistency alone won’t necessarily get you somewhere. If you consistently walk down the wrong road, you’ll just end up in the middle of a desert, reciting your philosophical…

—

And my issue is this that writing is an art, first, before a means for profit. So my advice is instead:

Dear Newbie Writers: Stop going in with the mindset that you’ll become an NYT Bestseller on your first try, and if you measure your success by your profit, you’ll lose your love for your art blaming your empty wallet.

If that’s what this man goes on to say, good on him (and he might very well have, I don't know), but he’s put his article behind said paywall and his tagline is a doozy.

If you want to write 100 versions of the same exact trope, because you really really love that trope, fucking go for it. Does it make you happy? Are you proud of what you created?

Yes, gaining an adoring audience is every artist’s dream, but you can’t scry your way into figuring out the magical formula for success, and that magical formula might be antithetical to what you want to write.

I could absolutely write a romantacy smutfest and make bank as an SJM copycat. But I hate romantacy smutfests, and writing one in the style that her fans will read would make me miserable. And, by the time I get it published, who knows (though I do wish) if the sub-genre has already fallen out of favor and now I have this book that no one wants and that I’d be loathe to put my name on.

If writing what you love means you never find your audience, you can’t control your audience in the first place. I get frustrated myself when I don’t make sales, but it could be from any number of reasons. I know one of those reasons is not because I’m a bad writer and it’s a bad book.

I just likely haven’t found the pocket of readers who would not only enjoy it, but would then tell their friends all about it, get them to read it, tell all their friends about it, and so on.

It could be the wrong time for my genre, or it’s just buried under other books’ marketing campaigns, or I’m not on the right platform, or my SEO isn’t optimized, or my own campaigns aren’t clicking, or people are just caught up reading something else or simply doing something else.

Am I going to give up because I’m not making money? Nope. I’m doing what I love, and I do have some readers who like my work. That’s success to me. Being published, getting through that process, even if I only have 5 sales (and I do have 50), is success to me.

Bare minimum, "it's pointless if you haven't found a formula that works" is just

You are gaining experience publishing. You are still writing. You are still learning. You are still creating.

If you’re in it for profit, you’re in the wrong game.

And if that is what the above article goes onto say, then I'm not the only one who knows this, either.