#i look at them and then I get sad and I never do it :((((

[thefandom-casserole]

@notlikeotherwarlocks

If you ever tagged me to do one of those tag game thingies and I never did it:

1) Thank you, seriously. Those are fun and being included shows that my followers care enough to want to learn more about me.

2) Very sorry about that, it���s extremely likely that I said to myself “Cool! But I’m busy at the moment, I’ll have to do this later today or tomorrow” before proceeding to just straight-up forget, now it’s too far back in my notifications and/or your blog to find again.

[fgumi]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LOSER IN A HOT MAN'S BODY

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, school!au, headcanon, WC; 2.8k, A/N; i love losers that love that girlfriends entirely too much but, at the same time, not enough. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso }

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ part two is up!

loser!heeseung was never the first one to get chosen for anything. well, he did get chosen first for musicals and solos! he had a beautiful voice and there was no denying that. but, for anything else? nope. it wasn't until you transferred over to his high school that he got picked willingly (and not because you guys were the only two left). you approached him in gym class after your teacher said to partner up for conditioning. "hey! i'm y/n. do you think we could be partners today?"

heeseung just blinked at you and then turned to see if someone was behind him. when he verified you were talking to him, he turned back to see you with a bemused look, a slight crease forming right between your brows. "you are talking to me, right?" he asked nervously.

a wry smile formed on your lips as you nodded. "there’s no one else around."

heeseung couldn't believe it. someone who wasn't a part of the theatre department was talking to him! so, he agreed with only a moment's hesitation. by the time sit-ups came around, heeseung knew about your basic interests and one secret: you were big on anime. you explained to him, during his sad attempts at pushups, that you loved anime but remained closeted because the boys at your last school made it weird. heeseung was careful not to let his excitement show; he didn't wanna scare you off before he really got to know you. eventually, after all the hellish exercises your teacher put you through, heeseung shyly asked you why you wanted to be partners.

"you looked like the type that doesn't judge people for struggling," you replied after drinking your water. you wiped the droplets of water that trickled down your neck and then offered heeseung some. "i don't have cooties. promise."

he gave you a faint, unsure smile, his hand reaching out slowly, half expecting you to pull it back and say psych! but you didn’t. you just patiently waited for him to take it. honestly, he just looked like a spooked deer to you, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. after class was over and it was time for lunch, heeseung deflated. it was nice talking to you while it lasted.

“heeseung! wait up!”

he turned to you with round eyes, watching you rush over, a backpack draped over your right shoulder. you were freshly showered, water still dripping off the ends of your hair. you looked... happy? you slowed to a stop right in front of him.

“do you mind if we eat together?”

you wanted to eat with him? a cool girl like you wants to eat with a certified loser like him?

“it’s okay if you already have plans! i think i can find somewhere else to sit.”

no! you jumped a little. heeseung retracted into himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he’s never had someone ask to eat with him. he just sort of sat with his theatre classmates—not even friends. they all thought he was weird. you gave him a puzzled look.

“are you sure? you don’t have to pity me just because i’m new,” you pouted. gosh, was it just him or did everyone find you adorable?

“i’m sure. i was just hesitant since i’m not known for being, you know, popular.”

rolling your eyes, you clapped a hand on his shoulder. “as if that actually matters.” you tugged him along, linking your arm with his. thank goodness you were busy looking for the cafeteria because heeseung was struggling to keep the blush off of his face. as much as heeseung didn’t want to get his hopes up, he hoped that you guys would become real friends.

loser!heeseung loved his hobbies. he could talk about them for hours; they were his passion. he loved playing maple story, league of legends, team fight tactics, going to the renaissance fair, studying the metrics of trot (this one was a little too niche to really talk about though). none of these passions were greater than his passion for you. this man was dedicated to learning everything there was to know about you now that you were friends. you teased him about how stalkerish he sounded. almost immediately, he apologized.

the way his shoulders shrunk and eyes drooped down, you were definitely the asshole. when he stopped talking, you panicked. so, you didn’t think. you kissed his cheek. you blinked. he blinked. you blinked at each other. you know that ouran high school host club scene where tamaki realized haruhi is a girl and she complimented him? you’d bet your whole house that’s how red you were because you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

heeseung’s mind was still white noise. any sounds that were supposed to reach his ears were muffled, like he was underwater. was he underwater? was he dragged down into the depths of the styx river only to be lost forever? was he dreaming to cope with the harsh reality of his death? was he—

“heeseung?” you meekly called. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that without your consent. that was—”

he must’ve called upon achilles’s guidance and invincibility because he didn’t know where he got this courage otherwise. what courage you may ask? well, the courage that planted heeseung’s lips on yours.

your lips were so soft. they tasted like strawberries. he wondered if strawberries were your favorite fruit. he could kiss you forever. oh crap, he was kissing you.

anxiety crept up his spine, invading his every nerve; it was telling him he had to pull away or else you’d leave him forever. except, when he started moving away, he noticed you followed, reluctant to end the kiss. your eyes were closed too. he could’ve sworn they were open from shock.

heeseung could feel his back creaking in protest at the odd angle; he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for you clutching the front of his shirt. huh? oh! maybe, you liked the kiss! you liked the kiss, like he did! oh, but now he couldn’t breathe. what should he do? he didn’t want the kiss to end.

he pressed back, holding out until the last possible moment. but you pulled away first, gasping for air. a blush dusted your cheeks and heeseung could guess that he was red too—probably not as pretty of a shade as yours though.

“s-sorry,” he stammered as you caught your breath. “i don’t know why i—”

you shut him up with another kiss (but this one was too short for heeseung’s newfound thirst for kissing you). when you pulled away, his big eyes tugged at your heart. they looked so sad that you moved away. it made you giggle—this whole situation. for someone that was trying to learn everything about you, he sure did miss your huge crush on him.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how he got so fortunate. was he a luck domain cleric in real life? he felt like he was rolling nat 20s continuously. he managed to ask you out (though, he was stuttering the whole time and nearly tripped on top of you—it was a whole affair that he’d rather forget) and be dating you 3 years later? he was one lucky man. and, some might say even luckier as time went on.

you got more confident once you guys got to college and, thus, you got hotter. you found your sense of self and your fashion reflected it. heeseung wasn’t doing so bad either. he found people that he got along with and could proudly (read: shyly) call friends. he found beomgyu in the league discord server that the university had and jeongin in d&d club! he’d meet up with them every once in awhile whenever they all felt like they needed to touch grass. of course, his friends knew you came first. you were heeseung’s everything. what they couldn’t wrap around their heads was how heeseung was your everything.

“you’ve been dating for 3 years!? no way, man.” “are you secretly rich? the son of some big conglomerate?” “all offense, she’s hot and you’re… not.”

heeseung didn’t let that bother him. his friends were idiots that had never felt the touch of a woman. plus, you trained him better (you told him to stop talking about himself like he was your pet, but he refused). you loved him so much without any strings attached. you were patient with him and listened to him ramble about how league kept nerfing his favorite character with every update. you never tried to change him and you told him it’s because you fell in love with him for how he was. but, there came a day when he wished you did. he happened to overhear a conversation between you and your friends.

“girl, there’s no way you’ve been with heeseung for 3 years and he hasn’t picked up a single thing about fashion from you.” “the face cards are mismatched, ma. you’re up here and he’s not even on this plane.” “don’t you ever get embarrassed whenever you guys go out? i mean, he dresses like he’s stuck in his mom’s basement.” “i hope he compensates in other ways because he’s not doing it where i can see.” “how are you okay with someone that much skinnier than you? doesn’t your body dysmorphia get triggered?”

you stopped talking to those girls after that. however, it didn’t stop heeseung from getting hurt by it. it was true, in heeseung’s eyes. you deserved much better than what he was giving you. how is it that you loved him even though he looked the exact same as he did 3 years ago? there were so many hot guys around and you never so much as turned your head to glance. there was nothing to support his insecurity about being hot enough or being enough in general. nonetheless, that horrid conversation sparked something in heeseung.

“baby, i’m heading to the gym. i’ll be back later to cook us dinner, okay?” if your brows raised any further, they’d merge into your hairline. “the gym?” heeseung nodded firmly. “gotta start working out to combat all the ramen i eat.”

“hee, you haven’t gained weight since we started dating, despite you eating my leftovers and your food. you don’t need to combat anything,” you laughed. when you saw heeseung was still tying the laces on his shoes, you let it go, thinking nothing of it. you kissed him and reminded him to stay hydrated.

thus began heeseung’s gym journey. it was difficult. muscle barely stuck even though he was eating well over 3000 calories. but, he could see his body getting toned, more cut, so he was happy. maybe people would stop looking at the two of you like you were wrong.

his wishful thinking remained at that. despite getting noticeably more fit, people still talked. they talked about his fashion, his haircut, and his hygiene (he thought this one was unfair considering he always did skincare with you and loved doing your nightly routines).

so, on the day you told him you were going thrifting, he asked to tag along. you were taken aback. heeseung never came with you; he didn’t see the point when he had perfectly good clothes at home. but you let him come along. you thought he’d just peruse with you or be there to make sure you paid with the card he gave you (he made a lot of money from his internship and begged you to use it for anything you wanted), but he didn’t. he asked a lot of questions.

“do you think this would look good on me?” “do these go together?” “are these good quality?”

you were excited. going thrifting was one of your favorite hobbies and to see heeseung taking such an interest in it was thrilling. you gave your opinions, always with a disclaimer that fashion is up to preference. he nodded along, processing your words. by the end of your thrifting trip, heeseung went home with a bundle of clothes to wear. the next day, he’d wake up earlier than normal to try and piece his new clothes together. he knew he wasn’t good at it. his friends let him know without reservations. hell, your friends let him know with their skeptical looks. it wasn’t until he talked to sunghoon in the gym that he got some actual constructive criticism.

“you’re taking an interest in fashion?”

“nothing crazy,” heeseung muttered, kicking the dust on the floor. “i just hate the comments y/n gets whenever her friends think i’m not listening.”

sunghoon looked at his gym buddy in pity. “look, man. if everything you’ve told me about your relationship is true, i don’t think y/n cares what you wear. she hasn’t in 3 years. what makes you think it’ll change all of a sudden?”

nothing. he didn’t doubt you. he just got sick at the thought of you having to listen to all those criticisms. so, sunghoon helped him. he showed him his pinterest moodboard and made heeseung swear to never tell anyone that’s how he chooses what to wear. after that informative session, heeseung got to work. he used your instagram feed as a reference, wanting to match your aesthetic, and created a moodboard inspired by it. using his pinterest board, he went thrifting by himself. he recalled the countless videos he watched while sorting through the clothes. cotton, not polyester. depending on the stain, you can get it out. tailoring is always an option when you find something that is a little too big!

he was very serious about his transformation. he even digitally scrapbooked the pictures of him in different clothes so he could be like cher in clueless. since then, his fashion started improving. your morning routines together changed ever so slightly with you telling him to spin for you. his heart warmed with every compliment you gave him.

“who is this diva?” “i feel very underdressed. i’m changing.” “are you getting dressed by law roach?” “you’ve been taking dress to impress a little seriously these days.”

heeseung’s confidence soared. now, he wasn’t ashamed to go out with you. your friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with him either. they even went as far as to compliment him! score! he’d gotten brownie points with your friends.

“finally, he’s dressing like a boyfriend fit to be with you, y/n.”

oh, that made you pull the brakes real fast. it completely escaped your mind how much your friends dissed your boyfriend (because you brushed them off as stupid comments). come to think of it, heeseung always did manage to miss the moments where they talked about him, but only by a minute or two. what if… what if he did hear those comments?

curious and worried, you asked him during your nightly routines. “hee, did… did you start dressing up for any particular reason?”

uh oh. heeseung hated lying to you; it physically pained him. so, he confessed. “i heard what your friends think of me and i didn’t want you to have to keep hearing them say things like that.”

“oh, baby, i’m so sorry you heard that,” you cooed. “i didn’t tell you because not even an atom of me agrees with them. i love you as you are, uni tees, basketball shorts and all.”

heeseung put down the moisturizer and looked down. “i know… i just wanted people to stop thinking we’re wrong for each other.”

you frowned and pulled him into a hug. “well, we know we’re perfect for each other. i’ve known it from the moment you started talking about the metrics of trot. i remember just nodding along and thinking how beautiful you were.”

heeseung blushed at your words. you always knew how to make him feel better.

“you don’t have to dress up for anyone but yourself, okay?”

he shook his head with a small smile. “i like matching with you. it’s fun.”

“well, i guess we really gotta dress to impress then,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

with that, heeseung was reassured. no more pressure. he could just dress however he wanted (which was however you were dressing). but, his glow up didn’t stop there. no, he thought about a haircut. he wanted something that would shut your friends up forever. so, after scrolling forever on tiktok, he found that he liked a mullet with some face-framing pieces. he went and got it done at sunghoon’s trusted barbershop and came out a new man. he immediately sent you a picture, to which you responded, “don’t go anywhere. no errands. no grabbing food. come home. now.”

safe to say, you loved his new haircut. he loved his new haircut. he loved it even more when his friends and your friends couldn’t manage words. good. stay that way.

loser!heeseung was still a loser but, at least, he was in a hot man’s body with his very very attractive girlfriend. he still played league. he still larped. he still took the renaissance fair very seriously. he still loved you more than anything in the world. he was still your loser.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[yellowbrokenblue]

Could you write something about Harry, where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour or maybe she is a 6th member of the oned (you choose how to do it) and they keep finding a way to escape without the people seeing to sleep with each other or he tries to take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smutttt please

“My boyfriend is literally on stage.”

kofi!

cw: public sex, slight daddy kink

There was something about being surrounded by tens of thousands of teenage girls screaming your boyfriend’s name that made you feel so good that after all of this, it was your arms he was running into. Not theirs.

Liam, Zayn, Niall, Louis and Harry were the most desired men on the planet right now, but little did the fans know that you and Harry were exclusive for a while now and there was nothing they could do about it.

The guys had been nice to you for the most part. You’d joined their North American tour to get as much time with Harry as you could. But they were always busy, between rehearsals and recording sessions you didn’t have any time together. Most of the tour was you just watching the shows and exploring the city on your own, it wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

You took a quick snap of Harry performing a solo verse on stage during the last song, before slipping away to make it backstage before the crowd dispersed and so that you could greet Harry as soon as he came off stage.

He was so insanely attractive on stage, the way his jeans clung to the same legs that you’d straddle him on, and that hair that you’d tangle your fingers in…

You stood in the wings of the stage, watching as Harry skipped off towards you, a towel in his hand that he used to wipe the sweat off of his head.

He ran into your arms, grinning, lifting you up and spinning you around.

You hand him a hair tie, and he swiftly ties his hair into a tight bun, keeping the hair away from his face. He knew you liked it when his hair was tied up, it meant you could see all his features properly.

“Good show once again, rockstar.”

“All for you, baby.” Harry said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I put on that show and you’re the only thing on my mind.”

You grin at him, your hands on his waist pulling him closer to you.

He quickly bucked his hips against your stomach, showing off the hardness forming under his pants, you look up at him, eyes wide and mouth watering.

“I’ve been waiting all day to get my hands on you, gorgeous.” Harry breathes, his hot breath hitting against your neck.

“Then you can have me. Where’s the hotel?” You ask.

“No hotel tonight, sweetheart. We’re overnight on the bus tonight, Dallas to Kansas City.”

“The bus?” You question, disheartened that you wouldn’t be getting the night in a hotel together like you expected.

“Don’t look so sad, baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, quiet enough that no one else in the room will hear him, “I’ve been waiting all day for that sweet cunt of yours, hotel or no hotel, I’m still gonna have it.”

Your heart skips a beat, “Harry, you share a bus with Niall and Zayn. They’ll hear us.”

Harry smirks. “Then you’re just gonna have to be a good quiet girl for me then, aren’t ya.”

You’d never had sex in the bus before, nothing had went further than a make out.

Harry joked around about how notoriously loud you were in bed, he joked around about how all the other guests at night would be kept up at night when he fucked you.

You had no idea how he expected you to stay quiet on a bunk in a tour bus.

“Get to my bunk,” Harry says, “I gotta pick my stuff up from my dressing room and I’ll meet you there.”

You done exactly what Harry said, you made your way to his tour bus and got straight into his bunk, pulling the curtain closed. It was as small as you would imagine, considering it was a bed in a bus.

You heard the door open soon after, with the guys making their way onto the bus and walking straight up to the small living and dining area at the front where the TV was. Harry however, kicked off his shoes and jumped straight in the bunk with you.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned, pulling the curtain closed once again, and placing a fierce kiss on your lips.

“Hey.” You replied.

“I’m not wasting any time with you.” He said, “Sit here in between my legs, angel.”

He lifted you into position between his legs, brushing his face against your neck, his lips then attaching to your skin.

“Remember and be quiet.” He whispered into your ear, before returning to the soft skin of your neck.

You felt his hands on your thighs, moving closer and closer up your skirt, until his fingers brushed over the fabric of your panties.

You’d been soaking wet all night for him, watching him up on stage in those damn jeans, knowing damn well what was underneath and in store for you later.

It was soon after that Harry tore the panties from you, ripping them in half for his fingers to gain access to your pussy, your toes clenching as his fingers moved in rapid circles, the tension building between your legs.

He had to put one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Gagging you already and I don’t have a finger inside you yet, nevermind my dick.” He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “How you gonna last, huh?”

You moan into his hand as he brings you to an orgasm. You feel your body quiver as he continues to pump his fingers into you, soaking them in your sticky cum.

“That’s it baby.”

This was one of the longest orgasms you’d ever had from just his fingers- something about the anticipation and naughtiness of being so dirty just feet away from his bandmates, paired with his hand firmly pressed over your mouth was too much for your body to deal with.

You were still processing your high when Harry moved so he was balancing on top of you, moving your body so your head was rested on the pillow. You watched as he slid his pants down his legs and shoved them at the end of his bed, and began to palm his cock over his boxers.

He was so big- it shocked you every time how he actually fit inside of you.

“Sorry for rushin’ baby, but I need to be inside of you,” He said quietly, “Just stay nice and quiet for me, okay?”

You nod, and he discards the underwear, and you hike your skirt as far up your hips as you can.

Balancing above you, he sunk his cock slowly inside of you.

“Harry, oh!-”

He slammed his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Quiet, princess. We have company, remember.”

He stayed very still for a short moment, his cock still buried inside of you. He enjoyed watching you squirm, watching your eyes beg for him to move. Your sweet, sweet eyes. Those eyes he got to stare at while he performed, the eyes which were the last thing that he saw before he kissed you, and those eyes he got to see when he fucked you.

When he started to move his dick, thrusting his hips, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Darlin’” He whispered, “You open your eyes when I fuck you. Understand?”

You nod, opening your eyes again.

Harry was moving faster, his thrusts deep and hard. You had no idea it was possible to cum in five minutes purely from a man’s dick until you met Harry. He knew exactly what to do with your body in bed.

Your walls began to clench around him, your body shaking with every moment. By now you’d be screaming his name, but his hand was still firmly over your mouth. Any possible sound you could make was escaping through your nose as Harry’s dick pounded into you.

Harry’s bunk was small. It was crazy how little space this man needed to make you feel like this. This good.

“Cum on daddy’s cock.” Harry whispered. The tour bus TV was loud enough that hopefully they wouldn’t be able to hear the two of you by now, “Make a mess all over for me, baby.”

Harry reached for your clit, rubbing fast circles around your swollen bud until you reached your orgasm.

“Oh, god. Oh baby.” Harry groaned, indicating he was coming.

You moaned into his hand louder. The feeling of his cum filling you up.

“My sweet girl.” Harry moaned.

He felt so good.

So fucking good.

The thought of the others listening just made it all so more exciting.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

i love your work sm!! could i request something with nerd!rafe? like reader never normally wears her glasses, so she decides to put them on while she reads and gets insecure and rafe comforts her?

beautiful with them.

NERD!RAFE MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: insecurities w/ glasses, angst to comfort

A/N: thank you sm! LOVE THIS. agh so sweet.

You flipped through the pages with anticipation, your eyes darting over the sentences. The world around you faded into the background, the rustle of the pages the only sound you heard. It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye that you realized Rafe had entered the room, leaning against the doorway.

As your gaze caught him entering the room, your eyes widened in surprise. You fumbled to remove the glasses that sat on your face, the frames slipping through your fingers as you set them aside. The suddenness of your actions caught him off guard, a look of confusion flickering across his face, but he dismissed it as he stepped toward you. A warm smile graced his lips as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.

“Hi, baby.” He murmured against your lips.

“Hi.” You breathed out. “You’re home early.” You noted, him moving away, putting the briefcase on the bed as he shoved off his suit jacket.

“Meeting finished early, and I was free the rest of the day.” He replied, you nodding, glancing down at your book and your glasses. “What have you been doin’ all day?” He asked you.

“Reading, mostly.” You replied, him letting out a chuckle.

“I thought so.”

Even though he’s seen you read so many times, you always wore your contacts. He’s never really seen you with your glasses. And if he has, it’s been only a few times.

You glanced back down at the glasses, and then back at him. He was taking off his clothes, changing into sweatpants and a baggy shirt.

He sat on the bed, phone in hand. He got comfortable, settling underneath the covers as he began his scrolling.

You turned back in your seat, putting your glasses back on and making sure you were facing away from him as you began to read again.

About thirty minutes passed when he stood up, making his way to the door. You moved your hand, resting your head on your palms as an attempt to hide the frames on your face.

He came back in with two cups of water in his hand, coming back over to your desk with them. He leaned against the desk, offering one of the cups to you.

You took off your glasses, looking back at him for a moment. You gave him a small smile, and he gave you one back.

“You know,” he rasped out. “I like you with your glasses on.”

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, smile faltering.

He picked them up in his hands, going to put them over your face when you gently grabbed his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it.

You plucked them from his hands, him quirking an eyebrow.

“Thank you.” You replied quietly, setting them back onto the desk.

“Why don’t you wear them?” He asked you, and you knew he was gonna keep pressing until he found out, because that’s just how he is.

You hesitated before answering, “I just… I don’t like how they look on me.” You admitted softly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s why I wear the contacts.”

There was a flicker of sadness on his face, watching you with a visible frown. He knows how you felt, because he’s thought the same thing about his own when he was younger.

“Well, I think they look good on you. You wear them better than me.” He spoke honestly, you letting out a chuckle, thinking he was joking.

“Stop.” You told him, but he didn’t, instead, he reached for your face.

He gently grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him. With his other hand, he grabbed your glasses.

He let go of your jaw, and put both hands on the glasses, before moving your hair, putting the lens over your eyes, and tucking the tips of the glasses behind your ears.

“I’m serious. Maybe you can’t see it, but you really do look beautiful with them on. You were beautiful without them, and you’re beautiful with them.” He told you, holding your face in his hands.

“You really think so?” You asked him quietly, to which he nodded, removing his hands from your face.

“I think, that you should wear them more, if anything.”

He watched the corners of your lips quirk up, small smile making its way onto your face. He leaned down again, and cupped your face once more, pressing his lips softly against yours, both of your glasses clashing as he did so, causing him to look at you, both of you beginning to laugh together.

You settled for putting your foreheads together, soft giggles still escaping your mouth as he smiled at you.

“Thank you.” You told him quietly.

“Course.” He responded in the same quiet volume, “If I didn’t say something, what kind of fiancée would I be, hm?” He hummed out.

Taglist:

@10ava01 @mileyraes @moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0 @wintertxt @teenwolfbitches28

[demonic0angel]

Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.

“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”

Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.

"Jazz?" Jason called.

She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.

"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.

Jazz moved her head to side to side.

"Defective?"

"I've done ten of them, all the same."

But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.

Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.

Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."

"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.

"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.

(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)

Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”

Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.

Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”

“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.

She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”

Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.

“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”

Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”

“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”

Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”

“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.

Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”

Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”

“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”

Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”

Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.

If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.

Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.

[hiraizyo]

running in circles, now look what you’ve done.

synopsis — tension grows between you and daniela as you’re faced with newfound feelings.

friends with benefits, suggestive, fluff, angst, swearing, jealous!reader, lesserafim 6th member!reader

now playing: friends, chase atlantic.

a/n: continuation of this. reader & dani need to get their shit together, reader is also kinda an asshole :/ she’s really trying tho !!! this is like lowk sad-ish WHOOPS. the previous imagine focused mainly on dani, so this one will showcase reader’s feelings :)

++ in honor of reaching 111 followers i wrote this longer than i planned for <3

the week flies by, and before you know it, you’re in LA for a couple days, busying yourself with scheduled photoshoots. you’re jet lagged by the time you’ve landed, wanting to only crawl into bed and sleep for hours. the friday comes and goes, and you’re exhausted by the end of it from the rigorous routine of changing into different outfits and fittings, having your makeup retouched constantly.

currently, you were sitting at the dinner table of your apartment here in LA, impulsively buying it after hearing the complaints of yunjin about staying in hotels every time lesserafim came to the states. your hair was damp from the shower you’d had half an hour ago, and you were nursing a warm cup of tea.

the sound of the face time ringing echoed around the room, leaning back against the chair as you waited for daniela to pick up.

the chiming notes alerted you that your face time was answered, and you smiled immediately seeing the curly haired girl come into frame.

“hey.” you said quietly, but your voice was filled with clear enthusiasm.

daniela shuffled around, her room door closing in the background. “shit, sorry. lara wouldn’t leave me alone.” she leaned back against the headboard, balancing her phone on her knees. “what’s up?”

at the mention of her member, you felt your chest tighten. it wasn’t a secret that all katseye girls were close, and while you were mostly fine with it, something about daniela and lara’s friendship irked you.

you shrugged the feeling off, focusing on the latina in front of you through the screen. “nothing, really. the shoots went well, and i got here about an hour ago.”

daniela nodded, listening intently. “were the outfits any good?”

you grinned, humming loudly. “yep, i think you’ll like them a lot when they’re posted. but fair warning, i looked really hot, so try not to fall in love with me or anything.”

the blonde rolled her eyes in a light hearted manner, “oh please. never in a million years.”

you chuckled, loving the teasing game between you and her. it was times like this when you really enjoyed your friendship, being able to match one another’s energy despite your agreement.

“ouch,” you dramatically placed a hand over your heart, clutching at your chest. “you wound me, dani.”

daniela giggled noisily, smiling so wide that her dimples showed. “i’m excited to see you tomorrow.”

you swallowed down some of your tea, the taste nice and sweet. adjusting yourself in the dining room chair, you propped up your leg to lean your head against it. “me too.”

without realizing it, daniela’s hand reached to play with your necklace around her neck. the action caused you to follow her movements, stomach fluttering.

“so, are you going to tell me about this surprise or what?” she attempted to get it out of you, like she’d been doing for the past week.

“ah uh,” you tutted and cheekily wagged a finger at her. “that’s not how surprises work.”

“pleaseee.” she begged, whining as she threw her head back. daniela looked at you a moment later, trying her best to coax you with her eyes.

“you know your charms don’t work on me like that.” you clicked your tongue, the tug of you slips never leaving.

daniela squinted at you, her voice dropping an octave. “they worked enough to get you into bed with me.”

your reaction was comical, looking gobsmacked at her, mouth hanging open. a second later, a sheepish laughed escaped you as you ducked your head down, trying to hide your blush.

“now we’re shy all of a sudden?” she added on, her teasing grin still in place.

“shut up!” you hollered at her. your body felt warm, and you were sure your cheeks were redder than ever by now.

“i think it’s cute.” daniela told you, beaming at you. her eyes crinkled at the sides as happiness ran through her like electricity.

when you finally recomposed yourself, and daniela decided you’d had enough of her teasing, the conversation flowed easily between you two, going from the different work schedules to shows you were recently into.

time seemed to pass by quickly, and it wasn’t long before telling daniela was telling you her goodbyes after seeing you let out yawn for the second time.

after hanging up and bidding her a goodnight, the remnants of the call lingered with you. though you were tired a second ago, your mind was filled with the thoughts of daniela. a warmth spread from your heart, and you could tell you were carefully threading on the line of thinking her as more than a friend.

the realization scared you, knowing that what was going on between you and her was strictly fun and games.

you were never good with feelings, it was why most of your relationships had ended up in flames, the only exception being kazuha. romantic entanglements always left you feeling empty — whether that was because of the way you saw yourself, pushing others away for self preservation, or the way you’s seen love around you crash and burn, you weren’t sure.

so, with a heavy sigh, you buried it deep inside, deciding to deal with it another day.

you were rarely an angry person, you prided yourself on that. but now, staring at daniela’s instagram story of her and lara, the dark feeling coursed through your veins.

it was a simple photo, one that wouldn’t bother any other person. but what had you clamping your teeth together was the hand placement of lara. her fingers wrapped around daniela’s waist lowly, hugging her close against her body as they stood side by side.

you scoffed, trying to get the image out of your head. daniela would be at your apartment soon, you’d texted her the address earlier in the day, and you didn’t want to ruin your little surprise with your sour mood.

twenty minutes passed by — daniela was late. you usually didn’t fret much on people being on time, especially if it was for a casual hangout, but knowing who the girl was with at the moment blurred your rational thinking.

when she finally reached your place, the door was quickly being closed behind her and she barely had a chance to register her surroundings before you were pressing her against the door, lips attaching to hers.

daniela gasped, startled by your sudden movements. her body melted into yours, fingers digging into the waistband of your pants. your hands fell to her hips, gripping them harshly in the same place lara’s hands were, squeezing the flesh delicately, as if staking your claim. your tongue dipped out to run along her bottom lip, asking for entrance. daniela denied you, leaning her head away as you chased after her.

her hands left your waistband and she placed them on your chest, “someone’s eager.” she chuckled, her lipstick now a mess.

“just missed you,” mumbling hazily, you breathed out in heavy pants. “and i had a really long day yesterday.”

daniela smirked and leaned up until we lips were touching the shell of your ear, whispering lowly. “planning to fuck your frustrations out on me?” she was teasing you, drawing out a deep rumble from you.

one of your hands released the grip on her hip, cupping her jaw as you moved her back to face you and closing the tiny gap between you two.

“you talk too much.”

whatever daniela wanted to say next was swallowed down as you pressed a harsh kiss to her lips once again. you tasted hints of caramel on them, feeling like you addicted and she was your fix.

your body pressed further into hers until your hips rocked together, and your hand made its way into her hair, wrapping your fingers around her curls. daniela’s hands on your chest trailed over until they were gripping your bicep, digging her nails into them. she sighed heavenly, kissing you back with just as much force.

when the need for air was too much, you both parted, breathing heavily. your mind was still reeling from the jealousy you felt, so you hung you head low as your forehead was placed on the junction between daniela’s neck and shoulder.

her body slumped against the door, skin tingling as your hands snuck under her shirt, holding onto her torso.

you were breathing together now, as if you were one person. chest to chest, daniela’s heart beat rapidly against her rib cage. she couldn’t tell that your eyes were closed, trying to recollect yourself, and when you pulled away from, the silver chain of your necklace caught your attention.

at the sight of it, your mind cleared. the jealousy faded away and all that was left was a warm glow in your chest.

your fingers delicately took hold of the necklace, smiling gently. “you’re wearing it.”

daniela gazed at you, pupils dilating. “of course.” she said quietly, “it feels like i have a part of you with me.”

your breath hitched at her words, stuttering for a moment. her hand reached for yours, the necklace dropping around her neck as your fingers locked together.

“tell me about the surprise now.” daniela peered at you, pouting lightly.

you chuckled, finally stepping away from her and pulled her along with you, your hands never letting go of one another.

gesturing around you with your free hand, your lips tugging into a smile seeing the fully furnished place. it was an open floor plan, big enough to have two couches in place, a coffee table, an entertainment system with a flat screen tv, and a dining room on the other end of the room.

daniela looked around, taking in the place though her confusion was visible. you quietly snickered to yourself, running your thumb along the back of her hand.

“i bought it a while ago so that whenever the girls and i come to the states we have a place to crash.” you briefly explained, a gentle smile gracing your features as you observed daniela’s reaction.

“i wanted you to be the first to see it.”

in an instant, her stare shot from looking at the decor to yours. her grip tightened, squeezing your hand for a short second.

and there it was, the stars in her eyes.

hanging in air was the unspoken feelings between you and daniela. the atmosphere around you was soft and intimate, falling deeper into one another.

“yn…” she laughed breathlessly, “this place is amazing.”

you shrugged, keeping your gaze on her as she looked around for a second time. “i figured a hotel would be too risky, especially with paparazzi, so i thought we could spend the night here.”

daniela looked at you again, her grin widening. she used your intertwined hands to pull you closer until your body crashed into hers. she kissed you gently, with such passion and intimacy it made your head spin.

you stopped the kiss for a brief moment, tugging her into the direction of the hallway, a dark glint in yours eyes.

“come on,” you faced her, walking backwards. “the rest of the surprise is in the bedroom.”

daniela giggled, kissing you once again. you laughed together as you made your way to the bedroom in a flurry of kisses, yanking on one another’s clothes and almost tripping over your own feet in your rushed movements.

soft music echoed around the apartment, you and daniela sitting together on couch cushions by the coffee table. takeout boxes were littered on the glass surface, the food half eaten.

there’s a certain comforting feeling surrounding the both of you. daniela was wearing one of your oversized shirts, the sleeve reaching her elbow.

you sighed contentedly, wiping your hands on a napkin and tossing it into the table. “i forgot how hungry sex makes you.”

daniela chortled, “what a romantic thing to say.”

“i try.” you shrugged lightly, grinning like a cat.

she shoved your arm softly, mumbling something incoherent under her breath. you broke into a fit of giggles at her faux angry look. her eyebrows were scrunched together cutely, and her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

you softly nudged on her frown lines, earning a swat on your hand from the latina. she tried to seem annoyed, but the smile you had caused for her own to form.

the two of you settle in a pleasant silence, enjoying one another’s presence. you felt content, thinking you could get used to nights like this with daniela.

“can i ask you something?” her voice breaks the peacefulness. you hummed, leaning your back against the couch and looked at her, tilting your head towards her.

daniela paused, contemplating if she really wanted to ask this. it’d been on her mind for weeks now, ever since the conversation with megan, and the curiosity was killing her. her fingers were wringing together in nervous. she spoke so softly, you had to strain your ear in order to hear her.

“why didn’t you tell me about kazuha?”

the question hangs in the air. you hadn’t expected her to ask this, you weren’t even aware she knew about your and your group member.

“mmh?” your eyebrows creased together, now facing daneila.

“you and kazuha.” she repeated, voice firm. “why didn’t you mention it?”

the latina watched you carefully as you sighed and sat up, staring in front of you. the sudden shift in the room weighed on her, and she feared she had said something wrong. she opened her mouth to tell you never mind, to forget she even asked, but your voice stopped her.

“i didn’t say anything because i didn’t think it was important.” you shrugged carelessly, longingly looking ahead of you. “kazuha and i were together around the time of our debut. she and i were getting closer, and it just sorta… happened.”

you swallowed down a lump that formed at the memories briefly playing in your head. “but it’s over. it was over long before you and i started this.”

in a flash, the memories left your mind. your chest felt heavy, but the lingering scent of daniela’s perfume brought you back. you reminded yourself that kazuha was in the past, and you were better off as friends in any case.

daniela couldn’t stop herself from staring at you, your body language now closed off. it was clear that her question had changed the mood.

“okay.” she mumbled, hushed and quiet.

as you struggled between your past and present, you wet your bottom lip, suddenly becoming aware that you had never spoken about kazuha before, so how did daniela hear about it?

you looked her at in suspicion, “how did you know about that, anyways?”

“does it matter how i know?” daniela retorted quickly, eyebrow raised in defense.

“yes.” you stated, your voice indicating that you were beginning to feel annoyed. “because the only people who’re aware about kazuha and i are my members, and if you knew then you must be talking to one of them, or something.”

“i’m not talking to any of your members, yn.” daniela denied, feeling as if your accusing tone was uncalled for.

“good.” finally turning to look into her eyes, you gave her a pointed gaze. “we agreed to keep this a secret, remember?”

“how can i not remember? you never let me forget it.” she countered bitterly, folding her arms on her lap tightly.

the gravity of the situation took a turn, you could sense it. what was once calm waters was now turning into a high tide. the feelings you and daniela kept hidden beneath the surface came bubbling out in the worst way possible.

daniela was getting defensive and rightfully so, while you had displeasure overpowering your emotions, acting irrationally, spewing out words without giving it an ounce of thought.

“dani, our members can’t know.” you stressed, sitting up to face her fully. “they’ll just try and get involved, ask all sorts of questions, worry about us.”

the blonde squinted at you in disbelief, waving her hand around. “obviously they’ll worry, they’re our friends.”

“it doesn’t matter!” you screeched out, face contorting into one of anger. “it’s better for the both of us to be a secret.”

you got up from your position on the floor, setting the couch cushion back in its place on the furniture. daniela followed your movements, standing across from you, and even though you were right in front of her, it suddenly felt as if you were miles apart.

“right, a secret.” daniela scoffed, looking off to the side. her arms were rigid at her side, clicking her tongue over her teeth.

“or are you just worried how a certain member will react if she finds out?” she questioned, using the same accusing tone you had on her.

you brushed your fingers through your hair, messing it up even more. all you could do was stare at her, jaw clenched at this unbelievable impression she had of you and kazuha.

you blinked, gaze now glaring at her. “don’t do that..” you sighed, shaking your head.

“do what?” she asked, titling her head mockingly.

“say things like that and expect me to read between the lines!” you yelled out, the anger you felt now being put out in the open.

it was alarming how quickly daniela’s demeanor changed. in a split second, her look of wrath and jealousy turned into a blank expression. she swallowed, her throat bobbing up and down. the latina looked around the room, her body feeling exhausted from her rise in temper.

“i think i should go.” she announced, gesturing to the door.

“fine.” you waved, shutting yourself away from her. your voice was cold, “go.”

daniela huffed, not sparing you a second glance as she hurriedly collected her things. when she exited the bedroom, coming out from the hallway fully dressed, you were still standing the place she left you.

a part of her wanted you to stop her, tell her to stay, tell her that everything would be alright. but her desires weren’t met as you stood rooted in your spot. her heart clenched, wondering if this was the end.

with final look, she took her leave.

the door shutting behind her had you gasping for air, the little argument taking its toll on you. you screwed your eyes shut, your mind spiraling with thoughts.

what the fuck just happened? you asked yourself, the takeout on the coffee table reminding of how quickly the night took a turn.

falling back onto the couch and slumping into the softness of it, your hand reached to rub the back of your neck. guilt consumed you, regret taking its hold over you. your hands trembled, stuffing your face into them as you replayed the quarrel in your head.

daniela was long gone from the apartment building, and your heart was taken with her.

it wasn’t the end, at least not yet.

you and daniela didn’t talk for days, the last conversation being the one in your apartment. even when you’d left to go back to south korea, you contemplated texting her, but ultimately decided against it.

you were both feeling the aftermath of everything, coping in your own ways. and how that worked for you, was to binge watch your favorite comfort show. your members joined here and there, they could tell something was up with you but they didn’t ask any questions, knowing that you needed the space and you would talk when you were ready.

it didn’t stop them from speculating, though. yunjin had a feeling that it was to do with daniela, hearing from megan and sophia that the latina wasn’t doing well either. she voiced her concerns to the members, and it was kazuha who promised she’d talk to you when the time was right.

as you got up from your bed to get a drink from the fridge, your phone began to ring. slugging yourself towards it, daniela’s name was clear and bright on your screen.

your heart quickened and your throat felt constricted. why was she calling? what did she have to say to you? when you answered the call, the last thing you expected was for her to be sounding angry, again.

“what fucking shit are you trying to pull?”

you frowned, sitting down on at the foot of the bed. feeling ticked off at her, you matched her fiery tone. “i’m sorry? you don’t talk to me for days and now you’re calling, yelling at me?”

on the other end, daniela rolled her eyes. the rest of the kats were all pilled into the lounge, planning for a movie marathon to cheer up their friend. they could hear her yells from the other room, glancing around at one another in concern.

“shut it,” she barked out. daniela’s hand was on her hip, visibly enraged. “what’s with the gift, huh?”

confusion was etched onto your face. “what are you talking about?”

daniela grumbled, “the gift, yn.” she hollered out, staring at a black box that sat on the kitchen island. the lid of the box lay next to it, while a silver bracelet delicately resting inside. “why is there a gift at the house with my name on it?”

hearing this, you slumped your shoulders and pressed a hand to your forehead. “shit.” you mumbled, the matching bracelet of your necklace slipped your mind once you came back home.

“i ordered it last week while i was in cali. it would take a couple days to get to you, but i forgot about it, dani.” you offered an explanation for the situation. “it was meant to be a surprise.”

daniela’s anger faded. she looked at the silver bracelet and reached out to touch it, gently. her emotions were all over the place, feeling confusion and resentment, but she also couldn’t deny the butterflies that swarmed in her stomach at the gesture.

“what does it mean?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

you stilled, breath being caught in your throat. now would be your chance to tell everything you’d been feeling the past month and a half, but something was stopping you.

what if daniela didn’t feel the same way? what if everything thats been happening was nothing her? what if, when you finally showed all yourself, daniela wouldn’t like what she saw?

as if on instinct, you shut your eyes and did what you do best — shoving your feelings deep inside, locking it away.

“nothing.”

daniela dropped the bracelet back in its place inside the box. hurt washed over her, reality had finally set in. “are you being for real?”

“the gift means nothing, dani.” you told her, even if your heart was screaming at you. “i saw it and thought you’d like it. i don’t know what else you want me to say.”

daniela stood in the katseye dorm, her walls finally crashing down. you both knew that this wasn’t the kind of gift you’d get someone for it to mean nothing, especially when it involved a relationship like yours and daniela’s.

much like the last time you’d seen one another, daniela did her best to mask her feelings. if you could see her now, you’d notice the tears that welled in her eyes, threatening to fall. she took in a deep breath, her voice wavering.

“don’t talk to me again.” daniela uttered, her vision blurry. “ever.”

she hang up from the call, and the second she did a cry ripped from her chest. her stomach was churning, throat feeling blocked as she choked out a sob.

the katseye girls rushed into the space where she was, watching as daniela’s whole world crumbled around her. manon took her into her arms, and daniela knew then she’d finally have to let her members in on her secret arrangement with you.

she definitely wasn’t looking forward to that.

the end of the call left a ringing in your ears, you barely registered how your phone fell from you hands and dropped onto the floor, the thud reverberating around you.

your eyes were beginning to sting. unblinking, you felt your hands shake. everything was spilling out all at once.

a knock was heard at the door, and then kazuha came into the room, noticing your vacant look. you didn’t take any note of her, continuing to stare ahead of you.

she walked towards you, cautiously, slowly, and it was only once kazuha kneeled in front of you did she see the millions of emotions in your eyes.

“yn, are you okay?” her voice broke your daze.

you gasped, chest aching. “zuha…” you called, choking on your words. “i think i really fucked things up with daniela.”

“what do you mean?” kazuha frowned, her hand being placed on your thigh. the weight of the her hand made it feel as if you were being awakened from a dream.

wiping away a stray tear that fell, you wet your lips, finally revealing what had been going on behind the curtains. “dani and i — ahem — we were hooking up. for the past several months, she and i would meet each other secretly. and… i-i couldn’t stop it, zuha. i kept having all these the feelings. and- and i didn’t know what to do.”

kazuha’s eyes widened at your state, seeing the walls around you break down. you were gasping for breath, clutching at your chest. your stomach felt as if it was being twisted, like you would throw up at any moment.

the japanese struggled to find the words to comfort you, but she didn’t need to as you began to speak again.

your voice shook, blinking slowly. “i got her this gift, and i told her it meant nothing.”

kazuha got off her knees, sitting besides you. the bed dipped, “did it?” she questioned.

you shook your head faintly, “no.” your hands grasped at kazuha’s, desperately holding on to them. “i don’t know. fuck, i’ve probably ruined our entire friendship too.”

the dark haired girl pulled your hands onto her lap, forcing you to look at her. it was a sight to behold — seeing her usually stoic member breaking down, eyes red and body shaking.

“hey, listen to me.” she leaned her head down until you were looking into her eyes. “you hid your arrangement pretty well, y’know. but i’ve seen the way you talk about her, the way you look at her. i know how you get when you have feelings for someone.”

she smiled gently, cupping your cheek as she wiped away your tears. kazuha had a warmth about her that made it easy to fall into her touch.

“she told me to never talk to her again.” you mumbled, a few more tears seeped out.

“so what?” kauzha shrugged. her eyes were gentle, furrowing her eyebrows together as she cradled your face in her hands. “you can’t push her away just because you think you’re unloveable.”

this was a delicate situation, and your emotions were at its highest. she needed to tread with caution, but her blunt honesty was necessary to realize your mistakes.

“everything i touch breaks, zuha.” your voice cracked, pain evident in it. you whispered it to her, “even with you and me.”

kazuha muttered no’s under her breath, denying you the opportunity to blame yourself even for a second. “we only ended because we were better off as friends, you know that.”

she spoke with conviction, but the soft features of her face lightened her words. “i get the past hasn’t been kind to you, but you can’t let it ruin your relationships anymore.” kazuha looked deep your eyes as they shone with heartache. “i can tell you really, really like her.”

you nodded, heart pounding. “more than anything.”

kazuha smiled at the quick response, “then let her know.”

her words made your lips tremble, knowing that your relationship with daniela had already crumbled. “she’s not going to want to speak to me after that call. i mean, how do i— wh- what am i even supposed to say?”

the girl pulled you closer, speaking in a rushed manner. “everything. tell her how you feel, why you acted like that. why you were so scared. you have to let her in, yn.”

your eyes were darting around, trying to regain control of yourself. your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, breathing fitfully.

kazuha could tell you were close to a panic attack at all the emotions you were feeling. you’d been carrying this weight on your shoulders for so long, hiding your feelings for daniela since the very first night you stayed at her place.

she rested her forehead against yours, reminding you to breathe. your eyes squeezed shut, as you listened to her mutter sweet nothings, running a hand through your hair to calm you down.

when the worst of it had passed, your head rested in the crook of her neck, falling into her. your breathing had evened out, and your body ached with exhaustion of the emotional breakthrough.

you lips brushed against her skin, “thank you, zuha.” the girl smiled, patting your back until you eyes began to feel droopy.

PLEASE DONT HATE ME Y’ALL 💔 it gets worse before it gets better :/

i MIGHT publish a fluffy lara fic to heal from this lmao, but the next part yn & dani are happy again gang :)

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): i

synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.

A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst?

warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it had been years.

wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.

she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.

she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.

“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.

the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.

“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.

“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”

wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.

“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”

“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.

all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.

“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.

with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.

“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.

wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?

wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.

the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.

though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.

but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?

of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.

so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.

but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.

“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.

wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.

wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.

she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,

"fine."

and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.

she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.

a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.

she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.

now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.

but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.

so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,

stalking your social media.

wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.

but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.

she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.

and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,

editor in chief.

New York Times contributor.

something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.

boyfriend.

she shouldn't care so much, but she does.

you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.

just not with her. not with wanda.

but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.

and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.

the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.

it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.

out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork

is what the caption reads.

wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.

many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?

wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.

after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.

though, she never really fully did.

wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.

wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.

on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.

she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.

he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.

wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.

“fuck!” She whispers to herself.

“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.

wanda is annoyed at herself.

“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.

to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.

it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.

wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.

yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.

but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.

briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.

wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.

she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.

but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.

so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.

your fiancé answers the call.

“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.

“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.

“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,

“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.

“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.

“hello?”

wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.

“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.

“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.

you shook your head.

“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.

your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?

“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.

and all you can think of is how confused you were.

“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”

“that’s good—”

“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.

wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.

she gulps,

“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.

you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”

wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.

“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.

suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.

“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.

wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.

you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.

“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”

with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.

you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?

“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”

but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.

“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”

your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.

with a sigh you finally decide.

“where and when?”

you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,

“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”

you think for a few moments.

“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich. i’ll be in touch with when.”

wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.

“i’ll be there.”

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

BUZZED!

formula one x male!reader

request: Okay okay, here me out, Male!reader gets a buzzcut and the drivers find out via like instagram or something and they get really whiny abt it.

summary: you get a buzz cut without telling your boyfriend

warnings: initial instagram post is just for reference + reader only posts whichever one applies to you most!, swearing, playful arguing

contains: alex albon, lance stroll, + lewis hamilton

youruser has added to their story!

written: time for a change ✂️

alex albon:

"WHAT DID YOU DOOOOOOOO?" alex yelped as soon as he walked through the door of your shared apartment.

you had just been lounging on the sofa, scrolling through social media to pass the time. you jumped slightly at your boyfriend's shouting. "what? what did i do?"

alex rounded the corner into the living room and pointed at your hair with a pout.

"that! what did you?!"

"alex, i just cut my hair." you chuckled, staying slumped on the sofa.

alex whined. "how could you do this to me???"

"you're so dramatic, oh my fucking god." you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. as much as you loved your boyfriend, he sure knew how to be dramatic. "it's not that bad?"

"yes it is!" alex insisted. "what am i supposed to do now when i want your attention?!"

"ask for it like a normal person?"

"it's like you don't even know me." alex huffed, flopping down on the sofa beside you.

you laughed quietly and put your phone away. "it will grow back, y'know?"

your boyfriend tilted his head to look at you with a a pout. "and what am i supposed to do until then?"

"cope?"

he whined again and poked you in the ribs, making you squirm slightly. "you're so mean."

"yeah, well, it's not getting reattached," you argued. alex ran his hand over the shaved hair with a sigh. "better get used to it, baby."

"fine ... but never again, okay?"

"no promises."

lance stroll:

the second you walked into your boyfriend's hotel room, he was right in front of you. lance crossed his arms and pouted at you.

"uh-oh," you murmured.

a sheepish smile crossed your lips. you tentatively stepped forward until you were close enough to pull lance into a hug, which you were very pleased to say he didn't reject. hopefully that meant he wasn't too upset.

"why did you have to get a buzz cut?" lance whined, pushing your shoulder.

you hummed. the truth of it was that the haircut had been an impulsive action rather than a conscious decision, but ... well, it was done now. "it's just hair, baby."

"no, it's not," lance argued with a pout. "it's your hair. which you let me play with and wash and put bows in and stuff."

"yeah, i hope you understand i would literally never let anybody else touch my hair as much as you do," you pointed out. was a part of you hoping to distract lance with a sweet statement? perhaps. but he didn't need to know that.

lance paused for a moment. he seemed torn between being sad and whiny about your hair, and being happy about what you said. sue him. he liked to feel special. "... then why did you cut it?"

"because i wanted to?" you shrugged. your hands dropped to lance's waist and tugged him closer, making him squeak quietly. "it's summer and it's hot and i don't need a fur coat on my head?"

"but what about the bows?" lance pouted at you.

a little grin tugged at your lips. "well, i can put them in your hair?"

your boyfriend seemed to short circuit at the idea of you putting bows in his hair. his lips parted in surprise, before his expression morphed into a goofy grin. "okay."

lewis hamilton:

the first reaction you got from lewis about your haircut was a text. he must've already been close to home, but apparently he felt the need to freak out about you getting a buzz cut as early as possible.

you cut your hair?

... yes?

it hadn't taken you long to reply. a minute at most. evidently, that was long enough for your boyfriend to get to your door. he flung it open, a dramatic frown on his face. "why?"

"hello to you too," you muttered, standing up to greet your boyfriend with a kiss. "because it was getting in my eyes, lew."

"so?" lewis raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed playfully, thinking he was just having a joke and not being serious. "so i couldn't see."

"so?" lewis repeated.

not joking, apparently.

"i can see?" he poked at the now-short strands with a wary expression. "i'd lead you places??"

"lewis."

your boyfriend pouted. he let out a dramatic sigh and turned away from you. "fine, i guess you like your vision more than you love me, then."

knowing he was just milking it, you wrapped your arms around lewis from behind and kissed his temple cheekily. "yes! glad you understand."

"... brat."

"love you too, lew."

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: anon i am SO hearing you out (can you guys tell i love whiny boys yet)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[deeplyshalllow]

Glinda gets what she deserves at the end of Wicked

I don’t necessarily mean this in an all negative light either, Glinda’s ending is bittersweet – sad, but hopeful. But she does not deserve an all out happy ending at the end of the musical.

I don’t know if I’m gonna be crucified for this, but here goes.

Glinda in Act 2 is a key part of a fascist regime. She doesn’t just live in it, she isn’t forced to take part in it and she’s not working as a double agent (like Fiyero). She knows what they are doing to the Animals (which includes separating infants from their mothers and putting them in cages, and making Animals so afraid they literally forget how to speak), she knows and loves people it is hurting and yet she continues to actively promote it.

(I won’t point out the connections to real world situations, but I’m sure you guys can all think of examples and think of how you feel about people who are active participants in helping such regimes.)

We see she knows all this too. We see she excuses it for her ego and the power:

Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!

Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here!

Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits.

Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth.

Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?

Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!

Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to...

Elphaba: Lie?

Glinda: Be encouraging!

And if one could possibly argue (weakly) that, given she’s not actually doing any of the regime’s actual violence, just keeping people’s hopes up she’s not as bad as those who are, she gets worse:

Morrible: Well, we'll just flush her out and force her to show herself.

Wizard: But how?

Glinda: Her sister

Morrible: What? What did she say?

Glinda: Use her sister. Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side... and you'll have her.

Even if one argues that Glinda is somehow not clever enough to realise that they’ll end up killing Nessa, she sure as hell knows it will get Elphaba captured. And there’s no way that Elphaba being captured won’t lead to the execution of her best friend. Yes, she’s heartbroken, yes, she might not have said this when emotions weren’t running high, but it doesn’t make her terrible words less deadly (and bear in mind Elphaba hadn’t even done anything to hurt Glinda! It was Fiyero who chose to go with her).

Glinda only really starts realising what she has done in March of the Witch hunters, when Nessa is dead, Fiyero is tortured and presumed dead and Elphaba has descended into madness – all because of her own action. And, kudos to her, this is when she decides to change, she immediately goes to Elphaba and tries to warn her about the Witch Hunters, apologises and ultimately Elphaba trusts her with the Grimmorie and to continue her legacy (which she immediately does by overthrowing the Wizard). She has started down the track to good but she still has a long way to go.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last to point this out but “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely, goodness knows the wicked die alone”, sung by Glinda,is clearly not about Elphaba. Elphaba was not wicked, nor did she die alone (literally Dorothy was in the room and metaphorically Glinda supported and loved her). Glinda is singing about herself, Glinda knows she has been wicked, Glinda knows that it is her own actions that have lead to the “death” of her friends.

So what Glinda is left with is a chance to do good. A chance to live up to her name and make up for what she’s done. A chance to use what she’s most talented at, making people like her, to continue the legacy of her best friend. Despite everything, Elphaba does trust her, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have left her with this responsibility.

Glinda: Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda the Good.

This is why she is going to “try” to be Glinda the Good, because she hasn’t been good yet. She has learnt a lot of very hard lessons through the narrative, been dragged kicking and screaming out of her selfishness, ego and giving into her worst impulses and is grateful for a chance to repent. And honestly, I’m sure she will suceed.

And one last thing:

Elphaba: I only wish...

Fiyero: What?

Elphaba: Glinda could know that we're alive.

Fiyero: She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know.

I know a lot of people take ire with this line. But Fiyero, always the best strategist of the group, is right. The last time Glinda was trusted with important information it led to a death and two more people nearly dying. She has not earned that trust yet.

But, remember, Glinda isn’t stupid, Glinda is in a position where she’s going to have to think more and more. Glinda has presumably seen her roommate get wet before, she saw Fiyero’s reaction to the rumour, no matter how much searching happens Fiyero’s body never turns up, how long is it really going to take for her to connect the dots? Sure “Glinda can never know” for sure, but she sure as hell can be comforted by the fact she’s almost certain her best friend did not melt from a bucket of water.

[dorabellingham]

Kissing in the rain

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you're arguing and you leave him talking to himself, but he follows you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a gray, rainy afternoon in Madrid. The sound of rain beating against the windows of the house was constant, almost drowning out the tense voices inside. You and Jude were standing in the living room, arguing about something trivial —this time, it was about which route to take to get to a family appointment, but it could have been about anything else. In the last few days, it seemed like everything was a source of friction between you.

—I told you, the route I chose is faster! Why do you always have to complicate things?

You exclaimed, crossing your arms and looking at Jude in frustration.

Jude, on the other hand, seemed equally impatient.

—Complicate things? I’m just trying to help, but you never listen! Every time we have to decide something, it turns into this.

—Turn into what, Jude? I’m not asking for help. I just want us to get there without fighting!

You were clearly tired of that argument, but at the same time, you couldn't stop arguing.

The rain outside was getting stronger, the sky seemed heavier and heavier, reflecting the tension. The eldest Bellingham rubbed his face with his hands, taking a step back.

—You know what? You're always cutting me off, always making it seem like I'm the problem.

You huffed and turned your back, heading towards the door. You weren't going to stand there, arguing, when all you wanted was peace.

—Cutting you off, Jude? Stay on your route. I'll go alone.

You opened the door, and the cold air of the rain entered the house, messing up your hair and making your skin shiver. You knew it was stupid, that you were going out in the middle of the rain for a silly reason, but sometimes your emotions took over everything. Without looking back, you walked out the door, leaving the boy alone.

Outside, the rain was falling hard, soaking you in seconds. You walked fast, almost running on the wet sidewalk, raindrops running down your face, mixing with the tears you wouldn't admit you were shedding. You were angry, frustrated, but most of all, tired of how things always seemed to be out of control lately.

But after a few meters, you heard his heavy footsteps behind you.

—Y/n, wait!

He shouted, running towards you, completely ignoring the fact that you were both getting wet to the bone.

You stopped, but didn't turn around immediately. You stood there, in the middle of the street, feeling the cold rain fall on your body as you waited for Jude to reach you. The sound of the drops was the only sound that filled the silence between you for a moment.

He reached you, breathing heavily, his soaked hair making heavier drops of water run down his face.

—Babe... we need to stop this. —He said, his voice hoarse, as if he was tired of fighting so much. —This... we're always arguing over nothing.

You finally turned to face him, your eyes shining with anger and sadness.

—So why don't we stop? Why does it always have to be like this?

He was silent for a moment, running his hand through his wet hair. The rain continued to fall, harder, as they stared at each other.

—Because... because I care too much.

Jude finally answered, his voice low, barely audible over the sound of the storm.

You looked at him, surprised.

—What?

—I care too much, Y/n. That's why we fight. I want everything to work out, I want us to be okay... and when we start arguing, I just lose control.

He admitted, his frustration evident in his voice.

You were quiet for a moment, absorbing his words. Maybe you had underestimated how much your boyfriend cared, how much he wanted things to work out between them. You always saw him as the calm guy, the one who kept his cool while you exploded with emotion, but maybe he was just as lost in this relationship as you were.

You were about to answer, but before you could say anything, Jude took two big steps towards you and pulled you close. Without hesitation, he kissed you with an urgency you hadn't expected, as if he was trying to end all the fights, all the frustration, in a single gesture.

The rain continued to fall around you, and you felt his body against yours, warm, even in the middle of the storm. You let yourself be carried away by the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling Jude’s large hands holding you firmly.

The world seemed to stop in that moment. The fights, the friction, the arguments —everything disappeared the instant Jude’s lips met yours. And for a moment, you realized that what you were doing now was much more important than anything you had discussed before. That was what mattered, what you had with each other, the connection that, despite all the differences, always brought you back together.

When the kiss finally ended, you were both breathless, but he still held you close, your foreheads pressed together.

—I’m sorry, babe.

He whispered, his eyes fixed on yours.

You smiled slightly, your hands still holding his face.

—I’m sorry too. —You said, your voice soft. —I think we just need to learn not to let small things become a problem.

Jude nodded, letting out a soft laugh.

—And maybe we should wait to argue until it’s not raining?

You laughed too, shaking your head.

—Yeah, that might be a good idea, honey.

You stood there for a few more seconds, just looking at each other, as the rain continued to fall around you. You knew there would still be fights, there would still be times when you would disagree, but in the end, what you had together was greater than any argument.

—Shall we go home?

Jude asked, finally pulling away a little, but still holding your hand.

You nodded, and you began walking back, hand in hand, soaked from the rain, but with lighter hearts. This might have been the stupidest fight you had ever had, but in the end, it had served to remind you both that, no matter how much you argued, you were still in love.

Heyyy! I'm sorry for the delay in bringing this one shot, it's my first time having an iphone and all this is very strange to me but soon we'll be back to normal :)) Do you have any suggestions for new themes?

[burningembers91]

Outside Looking In - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Nam-Gyu has always been an outsider, watching as everyone passes him by. He spends his days trying to make a name for himself, and trying to show the beautiful hostess with a broken heart that he'd love her until the end of time, if only she would let him.

A/N: Based off of this ask. I wanted to say a HUGE thank you the anon who asked that I write for Nam-Gyu. I didn't really like his character in Squid Game, but I am SO happy with how this turned out. I wasn't planning on writing this so quickly, but the ask gave me such a good idea, I couldn't resist. Thank you, Anon. I hope you enjoy!

Park Nam-Gyu had spent his entire life desperately waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be noticed by his parents, his siblings, his class mates, employers, and women. But no matter how hard he tried he always just seemed to be on the edge of everyone’s periphery. He tried to be bolder, louder, a little more cocky; he’d met so many people like that who commanded attention, so he couldn’t understand why it didn’t work for him.

He'd taken a job as a Club Promoter to meet girls, but also on the hope that people would want to hang out with him, even if was just for discounted or free bar entry. He would spend all week advertising clubs and bars on Instagram, promising his old classmates he would be able to get them tickets for the hottest places in town, even the ones that were exclusively guest list only. It had worked for a while, and Nam-Gyu found himself basking in the popularity he’d always craved. But people were fickle, and once they got what they wanted, they soon left. There were hundreds of club promoters in the city, and most of them had better connections that he did. He never gave up though, spending each weekend following the crowds of drinkers that flooded through Seoul. He never quite managed to attract enough attention though, left to stand on the pavement clutching his leaflets as everyone passed him by.

Nam-Gyu knew he should throw the towel in. He didn’t make any money as a club promoter, still living in the tiny box room at his mum and dad’s house. He should really focus on a proper job, something in insurance or accounting; but then he really would be a nobody. Just another faceless ghost in a suit, robotically moving through life. He knew he was destined for greater things, if only he could just be noticed.

You were the other reason he didn’t want to quit the job that made him no money. You, the beautiful hostess, whose job it was to entertain the richer clientele who frequented the bars he promoted. Night after night you would bend to every will and demand of drunk men, smiling politely as they groped you, called you hideous names and tried to force themselves on you. You were tired of this life, tired of being nothing more than a pretty girl in a tight dress and pair of heels whose name no one bothered to learn. Except for Nam-Gyu; he knew your name; he saw the sadness harboured in your eyes. He watched as you stood in all kinds of weather, smiling and greeting people through gritted teeth. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he was so madly, so deeply in love with you. He could try and bullshit the drinkers with his false bravado, but he could never fool you. “What are you doing after work?” he asked you one night as you stood shivering on the pavement, savouring the last fewminutes of your break. “I’m going home,” you sighed, “I finish at 3am.” “Maybe I could walk you home,” he offered, taking in the goosebumps that littered your delicate skin. You shouldn’t be standing out here freezing. You should be inside, curled by a fire with someone who doted on you, cared for you. Nam-Gyu wished he could be that person. “I’m getting a taxi,” you told him. “Thanks though.”

You’d noticed Nam-Gyu plenty of times. He’d been working as a club promoter for as long as you’d been working as a hostess. He’d always seemed sweet, but he tried so hard to impress people who didn’t deserve his attention. He always looked out for you, keeping you company on quieter nights, buying you dinner if your tips didn’t cover your meal. You doubted he made much money either, but he always made sure you didn’t go hungry. He made you laugh, and when it was just the two of you, he was so different to the brash, cocky persona he adopted when he was working. You wondered why he felt the need to act like someone he wasn’t.  You wished you had his never-ending enthusiasm, his ability to keep a smile plastered to his face no matter what. People spoke to him like shit, and yet he never let it phase him. You on the other hand, you were finding it harder and harder to deal with the men who grabbed at you and treated you like a life-size Barbie doll, simply there for their amusement. Your dream was to become a florist, to open your own shop. But dreams required money, and you spent all yours just trying to get by each month. You knew how much Nam-Gyu cared for you, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wasting his time. You were damaged goods, too broken to ever love again.

Nam-Gyu wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting outside for when he saw you. It was raining, a constant drizzle that soaked through his shirt and jeans, plastering his hair to his cheeks. He’d tried to gain entry to the very bar he’d been promoting, but the bouncer wouldn’t admit him. “We’re full,” he was told, despite the constant stream of patrons entering. He didn’t want to go home though, didn’t want to face his parents to whom he was a constant source of disappointment. So, he sat in the rain, waiting for you to show up on your break. This time however, you weren’t alone. There was a man with you, his hands round your waist. You were pushing him away, but he’d just grab you again, clearly unfazed or unaware that you weren’t interested in his advances. “Please stop,” you snapped, pulling your arm away as he tried to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Seriously, fuck off!” “Hey!” Nam-Gyu stood up, marching over to where you stood, his fists balled. “Leave her alone! She said she’s not interested.” He couldn’t make out the man’s response; the guy was too drunk to form words coherently, but apparently not to drunk to harass you. “It’s fine, honestly,” you told him, “I’m used to it. My manager has called him a cab, he’ll be gone soon.” But your eyes were so sad, your mouth trembling as you held back tears. Nam-Gyu wished he could take the sadness away from you, wished he could see a smile light up your face.

He waited for you until the bar closed, just in case anyone else tried to take advantage of you. “Why are you still here?” you sighed, pitying the rain-soaked man who never gave up on you. “I wanted to make sure you got home ok,” he told you, trying to hide the shivers that wracked his body. “I’m fine, honestly.” You started walking, your tips not enough to pay for a taxi, and Nam-Gyu followed. You wished you could open up and let him in; you wished you weren’t so broken. But a lifetime of toxic relationships had left you damaged. You were so used to being hurt that you didn’t think anyone could fix you, not even the sweet club promoter who stood waiting for you in the rain. You walked home in silence, enjoying his company but too scared to admit it to him. You stopped as you got the front of your apartment, turning to say goodnight to the man you desperately wished you could love back.

“I wouldn’t treat you like those men do,” Nam-Gyu whispered, “I’d make sure you never had to work in a place like that ever again. I’d hold you every night and tell you how lucky I was to have you.” “If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.” You smiled sadly, your hand gently clasping his cheek. He leaned into your touch, relishing the sensation against his freezing cold skin. You left him standing out there, watching you as you made your way up the stairs to your place.

He forced himself to turn and walk home, the rain never once ceasing. Nam-Gyu would probably always be a nobody, but to you, he was desperate to be a someone.

[literatureloverx]

BSD men as Lana Del Rey songs

( or how their darlings likely perceive them)

I was bored… ♥️ The Nikolai part was really hard to write because he’s clearly Britney Spears-coded. Anyway, I did my best—enjoy!

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

Lana Del Rey — Sad Girl

“But you haven’t seen my man, you haven’t seen my man…you haven’t seen my man, you haven’t seen him…He’s got the fire, and he walks with it. He’s got the fire, and he talks with it…”

Lana Del Rey — Young and Beautiful

“Dear Lord, when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man. When he comes, tell me that you’ll let him in. Father, tell me if you can… all that grace, all that body, all that face makes me wanna party… he’s my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds…”

Lana Del Rey — Once Upon a Dream

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream… I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam… And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…you’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream…”

DAZAI OSAMU

Lana Del Rey — Cinnamon Girl

“Cinnamon in my teeth, from your kiss. You’re touching me. All the pills that you take— violet, blue, green, red—to keep me at arm’s length, don’t work. You try to push me out, but I just find my way back in. Violet, blue, green, red, to keep me out, I win.”

Lana Del Rey — Ultraviolence

“He hurt me but it felt like true love… Jim taught me that, loving him was never enough…with his ultraviolence…”

Lana Del Rey — Smarty

“Who has the face like smarty does? Who has the voice like smarty does? Who has the choice like smarty does? Nobody, nobody…”

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

Lana Del Rey — Million Dollar Man

“Someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you…one for the money and two for the show…”

“…You're screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man…”

Lana Del Rey — Guns and Roses

“'Cause you were so much better than the rest of them. Out of all the others, you were the honest man. He loved guns and roses, guns and roses…”

Lana Del Rey — Born to Die

Come and take a walk on the wild side. Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain…you like your girls insane.”

NIKOLAI GOGOL

Lana Del Rey — Art Deco

“You’re not mean, you just want to be seen…want to be wild. A little party never hurt no one, that’s why it’s alright. You want in, but you just can’t win…So you hang in the lights…”

Lana Del Rey — West Coast

“Your love, your love, our love… I can see my baby swinging, his Parliament’s on fire and his hands are up… On the balcony, and I’m singing, ‘Ooh baby, ooh baby, I’m in love…’”

Lana Del Rey — Gods and Monsters

“In the land of Gods and Monsters…I was an angel living in the garden of evil…Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed…shining like a fiery beacon…”

AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE

Lana Del Rey — Shades of Cool

“But I can’t fix him, can’t make him better… and I can’t do nothing about his strange weather… but you are unfixable…I can’t break through your world… ’cause you live in shades of cool, your heart is unbreakable…”

Lana Del Rey — Diet Mountain Dew

“Hit me and tell me you’re mine…I don’t know why, but I like it. Scary? My God, you’re divine…”

Lana Del Rey — Brooklyn Baby

“They say I’m too young to love you. They say I’m too dumb to see. They judge me like a picture book, by the colors, like they forgot to read… I think we’re like fire and water… I think we’re like the wind and sea. You’re burnin’ up, I’m coolin’ down…you’re up, I’m down…you’re blind, I see.”

[v4mpyinred]

ok this might be hella long, but I need to scream about some details about Makoto Yuki in Persona 3 Reload, because they're so missable so I feel like nobody else has noticed or cared about them other than me!!!!

Please someone hear me out 😭 (spoilers ahead)

One underrated thing about Reload, which is my favorite thing ever, is that we get to hear Makoto's thoughts when interacting with the world around him. Compare it to FES where the game's inner dialouge is in 2nd person, Makoto's inner dialouge in Reload is in first person.

I didn't give too much attention to a Makoto's thoughts in my 1st playthrough and I think it's what made me not as attached to Makoto as I would've liked in that playthrough. But god, in my 2nd playthrough, especially after watching the movies, all of that changed...

I noticed that Makoto's thoughts genuinely change as the game progresses. You see him start off as indifferent to everything, to cherishing the memories he's made with his friends.

For instance, take a look at his thoughts on the kitchen. I don't have a screenshot of this, but at first, he doesn't really care and just sees it as another tool. But as the game progresses...

This dialouge makes me swoon every time 😭💜

One of the biggest hidden details is Makoto's inner thoughts when you interact with the book on the dorm table. He has individual thoughts on the handwriting of each member of SEES as they join, which were delightful to read in my 2nd playthrough.

But what shocked me the most was after Shinji dies, if you interact with the book, then here are Makoto's inner thoughts:

That "..." doesn't show up if you interact with the book again. This was very intentional. And god, did that hit me extremely hard. In fact, if you interact with anything involving Shinji after he passes, you can really see how much Makoto respected him :((

Once January rolls around, Makoto's thoughts change to this sweet message 😭💜

Ngl I almost teared up when I saw this for the first time. Especially since it was my 2nd playthrough, and I was actually attached to Makoto this time + I knew what was up ahead :')

shit there's even dialouge if you go to the bathroom on the Promised day 😍

Don't even get me started on Makoto's inner dialouge on March 4th. Pretty much everything interactable is changed to fit the mood of how tired Makoto is, but also how much he's appreciated the year and the memories he's made.

Like when you interact with the kitchen, his inner dialouge about the kitchen changes once last time to this (credits to alanamisako):

This shit made me burst into tears so badly 😭😭😭 "I'll never forget those precious memories" FOUL atlus, FOUL!!! His thoughts on Shinji's room change on March 4th as well 🥲

Just seeing how much Makoto had grown throughout the game, and knowing what was to come, made this, and all the other March 4th dialouge, even harder to get through in my 2nd playthrough. It also resonated with me, because I too will never forget the precious memories I've made with this game...

Things like this make me appreciate Reload so much. Interacting with every little thing is my favorite pass time in video games that allow me to do it. I've probably wasted so much time in games doing this. But most game's interactables don't have this depth, and they certainly don't change at all, even as the game and protagonist develop. I also feel like nobody else takes the time to really interact with everything or see if there's anything else to see before they progress (trust me, if a game says go left, I'm always going to go right first), and it makes me sad that so much of this, and other details, go unnoticed. I've certainly heard "I've never noticed that" a lot when sharing these sorts of things with people 😭

Things like this really help flesh out the protagonist people call "bland". I really love silent protagonist and developing their personality based on their thoughts on the world around them. I also love worldbuilding and learning about other characters through it.

And I'm trying so hard to not let Makoto take Joker's place as my favorite protagonist (cuz the rest of SEES have already done that to the PTs LOL) but it's been getting harder these days. Makoto is just so perfect! I love his growth & seeing all of his inner thoughts and combining it with movie Makoto's AMAZING characterization (plz watch the p3 movies ya'll) just made me super attached to him!! I could scream about Makoto all day. He cares so much for his friends, and it's thanks to them that he's able to appreciate the life he didn't know he could have 🥲

So I highly encourage you to interact with everything when playing Reload! From NPCs, to random things that aren't the main objective (trying to leave when you're supposed to be fighting a full moon shadow leads to some funny dialouge for instance), etc etc.. especially as the game progresses. I mean, we all laughed at the 3 coffins in the Love Hotel, and there's so many other details and foreshadowing like that I can't even get into! It really immerses you and attaches you to the protag, but also makes the end of the game hit hard...That "my eyes feel heavy" got me horribly in my 2nd playthrough after keeping up with Makoto's thoughts the entire game HOO BOY!🥲

I also recommend you do this with other games as well. Video games have always been an experience over just a game to me. And I want to experience as much of the game as I can, even silly little things like this :)

[heart-eyed-love]

Winston

Summary | A stray that wonders the trailer park, that you’ve claimed as yours, as gone missing

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers (eventually), Cursing, Cute kitty, Mentions of Dealer Eddie, Psycho kids attempt to hurt the kitty :(

Pairing | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader

Word count | 2.1k

An | Another cat story cause I love them and I’m cat sitting rn!!! Also sorry this is kinda bad

The boys had decided that their favorite hang out place was Eddie’s trailer. Much to your dismay, cause sometimes they apparently wanted boy time and you had to sit in your own trailer like it didn’t affect you.

It had taken you awhile to find a friend outside of Eddie, excluding the rest of the boys, but as of this year Nancy and her friend Barb had become some nice acquaintances of yours. Nice enough you’ve even recently been invited to a slumber party with the two at Nancy’s house.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t still want to hang out with the boys when they came around, but you let them have their time. And from the sound of it, it has something to do with the band they had recently established. You could hear eddie’s guitar from out on your porch where you sat next to a can of cat food you had bought for the special cat you had come quite close with.

Eddie had informed you he was a stray that had been abandoned by one of the previous owners of one of the trailers. You teared up at the thought of someone leaving him behind, which Eddie had teased you about being so sensitive when it came to animals.

That earned him a glare and quick snap from you, “since when isn’t it sad to be abandoned?” He shut up after that.

You had begged your mother to let you keep him, promising to take care of him, and that you’d pay for all the things he needed with your own money. But she didn’t hesitate to say no, and after begging for a full week after coming across the cat you’d accept your fate, and settled for making a small bedding area around the side of your trailer and feeding him as often as you could.

You had informed Eddie that he’d now be called Winston.

Which is what you were currently trying to do, even with a small pout on your face as you stared at Eddie’s trailer across from yours.

You’re a bit preoccupied by boredom to realize that it has taken Winston quite a bit longer to arrive at his food than he normally did. You had a system that you both seemed to know pretty well, once you came home you’d come back outside with something to eat for the sweet old guy, he seemed to surprisingly be pretty aware of the time frame too.

But as the time went on you began very aware of the lack of cuddly creature you came to love so much.

You stand from your spot on the porch, “Winston?” You called you looking around in front of you. He didn’t come though. You hop down and venture to the padded box that was tucked a bit under your trailer but it was empty, you furrowed your brows slightly.

You felt silly for already being worried but you couldn’t help it, he wasn't some young, nimble cat that enjoyed running around and playing. He liked sleeping, scratches, and food. He never passed up on food.

You wandered towards Eddie trailer, sneakily, the last thing you needed was then think you were spying. You peaked under his trailer, whisper yelling his name out and not hearing or seeing a thing.

You popped back up and rushed quickly back over to your trailer, feeling more and more panicked when you couldn’t find him, you rushed into your trailer grabbing a flashlight, ready to search under every other trailer to find him. But knowing he couldn’t have gone too far, you were worried he may have gotten hurt somewhere.

After searching under and around the nearest trailers and having no sign of Winston, you got teary eyed when you saw it was getting darker.

You decided you didn’t care for Eddie’s boy time, you really needed his help. You ran up the steps to his trailer, knocking a bit frantically as a tear fell down your check and you anxiously chewed at your lip as you waited for him to answer.

And soon enough he does, “Hey, what’s up?” He asks with a smirk, but it quickly drops as he sees the sadness on your face, “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Winston… I had his food out ready to feed him and he didn’t show up so I went and looked around for him and I still can’t find, and I’m scared he might’ve gotten hurt and-“

“Hey, Hey, calm down. We’ll find him, wait out here I’m gonna got get the guys, okay?”

You nod and he’s quickly rushing inside. “Hey, so change of plans… We got a missing cat so, we’re gonna have to go look for him, Kay?” He says as he as he rummages through a drawer in his kitchen, grabbing a flashing, ready to look under trailers for a second time just to ensure you have your cat back by the end of the night.

He remembers when you met Winston, He was a skittish cat not appreciating the presence of just about anyone until he met you. Eddie slightly felt like he related to the cat in that way, but Winston had warmed up to him after he discovered he was a friend of yours. He smiled when you had revealed the name you had picked for the old guy, it was fitting.

And when Eddie found out that your mother had told you ‘There’s no way I’m taking in a gross old stray. It’s not gonna end well, Y/n.’ He wanted to offer to take the cat in at his trailer, telling you that the cat could be both of yours and you could come over as often as you wanted to see him, but that idea was stomped out by the fact that Wayne’s was allergic.

So he tried to play his part by helping anyways, he occasionally brings home a bag of cat food for you to give to Winston. And one he had gone as far to get some catnip.

You laughed and joked, claiming he was doing a great job solidifying his place as a dealer.

“What? Why?” Gareth asked, he had now stopped aimlessly twirling his drumsticks.

“Because Y/n can’t find him on her own so where gonna go help her.” Eddie said matter a factly.

“Maybe the cat just need a break from her.” He’s smirking, as if this is a laughing matter to you. Jeff tries to nudge the boy with his elbow before he can get the sentence out, but Eddie already has that glare on his face, the one they know all too well, the one he uses when he needs to shut them up real quick. And it works.

Eddie tosses one of the flashlights harshly at the boy, “We’re gonna get our asses out there and we’re gonna look for that cat until it’s found. Got it?” His tone has all the boys nodding. Eddie makes his way towards the door, grabbing a hoodie on the hanger by the door, and throwing it over his shoulder as they make their way outside.

You stand from your spot on the bottom step, quickly wiping your tears so the other boys don’t see, “Thanks for this guys…”

“Don’t worry about it…” Eddie says as he makes his way down the steps to where you’re now standing, “Here…” He adds, handing you the hoodie he brought out.

“Thank you…” You say as you slip the hoodie over your head.

“Jeff, Grant.“ Eddie nods his head off to the side, “Gareth you stay with her, help her look under the trailer again in case he comes back…” Eddie says.

“What? Why do-“ Gareth freezes yet again as Eddie send another glare his way and Gareth nods his head, “Yeah, okay… well look over here…” He points his flashlight in the opposite direction and begins trailing off, you’re quick to follow behind him.

You and Gareth begin checking under the trailers that you had already looked under, it felt useless, which made you feel even worse for interrupting their night.

“Hey, uhm… I’m sorry… really I didn’t want to have to come and ask for help… I’m just really worried…” You’re voice was sad, and he felt bad for making you feel worse about it. He turned around the flashlight hitting your eyes as you squinted, and he lowered it quickly.

“No it’s okay… I get it. I’ve you that cat with you, seems like he really loves you…” He says softer than before, he turns back around shining his light in more spots, you come stand next to him.

“You think…?” You duck down where he’s shining the flashlight to check under this trailer.

“Yeah, totally… I have a cat, you know?” Causing you to pop up from where you were crouched, looking at him with a small smile. He thinks it the first time he’s seen you smile since you’ve come over to Eddie’s.

“Really?”

“Yeah, her names Coco. She’s a little diva…” He says as he look over at you, and now there’s a genuine smile on your face, “We’ll find him, okay?”

You nod softly, “Okay…”

On the other side of the trailer park Eddie can hear the chatter of what sounds like some younger kids, maybe a couple years younger than his own group.

He has been acquainted with these boys before, they were fucking nuisances in his eyes. Constantly being a pain in the asses of people within the trailer park, but they stayed away from Eddie, which in turn meant they stayed clear of you as well.

As Eddie approached the kids ready to ask whether or not they had seen an older cat, he caught sound of a distressed meowing sound.

He looked over at Jeff and Grant whose eyes widened at the sight and Eddie rushed over to the boys. They were circled around Winston. Eddie approaches fast, “the fuck are you doing?!” He yells, crushing the boys to jump, startled by the voice that appeared behind them. One of the boys accidentally dropped another one of the fire crackers letting it pop onto the ground.

Winston seemed to recognize the voice and quickly ran away from the boys in the gap of their moment of weakness, “nothing we’re… just playing…” one of the boys says, Jeff and Grant could tell that Eddie had an affect on these boys as well, and they’d hardly ever heard him yell the way he just did.

“Playing?! In what fucking world is torturing a cat fun? Don't be psychopaths.” Eddie sounded so pissed. Which is valid, those boys were being insane, “I know where you guys live, so it’s probably best you don’t fuck with the cat again. Got it?” They nod quickly, walking away, throwing more of their crackers onto the ground as they did.

He looked down to where Winston was standing by his feet, the cat didn’t usually get this close to him if you weren’t around, but Eddie guesses given the circumstances this was different. Eddie picked the old cat up and began walking back to his trailer, and on the way back he spotted you and Gareth poking your head under The Smiths trailer.

“Hey, look.” Gareth says as he taps your shoulder, causing you to pop up and follow where his finger is pointed at Eddie holding Winston.

“You found him!” You say approaching him quickly, Winston seems to recognize the voice as he squirms in Eddie’s arm and jumps down, running up to you. You kneel down picking the cat, “thank you…” You say, looking at Eddie as tearing up again, “thank you all, honestly… I really appreciate…”

“It’s no problem…” Eddie shrugs, trying to play off how happy he feels for helping you.

You turn to Gareth, “And thanks for making me feel better… sorry to interrupt your… band practice?”

“Not really a practice, more so us having to sit around and listen to Eddie play guitar…” Gareth says with a smirk, and he catches Eddie raised brow look.

“You’re lucky we found the cat and I’m in a good mood.” Eddie shoves the boy's head as he makes his way back to the trailer, everyone follows behind him and you follow as well, making your way to your own.

“Thanks again, guys!” You wave from your porch, Winston still in your arm. They wave and you go inside.

You’d sneak Winston into your room that night, feeding him treats and scratching his neck until he’s fast asleep.

[taintandviolent]

new tattoo ; Eric Draven x Reader

summary: You’re visiting your friend, Chance, for a new tattoo; a chest piece. While he's working, one of his friends comes over to chill; someone you've never seen before. His name is Eric Draven.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.5K | female reader, smut, unprotected sex, kissing, canon divergence/alternate universe (technically), neck kissing, tattoo needle mention, sex in someone else's apartment, hook-ups.

a/n: Shelly doesn't exist in this -- all in the name of reader getting fucked good n' hard. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

It’s been about an hour since Chance started on your newest tattoo; a beautiful chest piece of a bat, nestled perfectly below your breasts. The room is filled with the hypnotic buzzing of the tattoo gun, and whatever music is playing on his speakers. You tap your fingers on the table beneath you, a staccato rhythm against the smooth leather.

The light is angled over your chest, illuminating the nakedness of your torso for Chance – who is completely unfazed by the lack of clothing. He’s working, and despite doing tattoos out of his apartment, he is ever the professional. You, on the other hand, enjoyed flashing your tits whenever you got the opportunity. You could’ve brought pasties, sure, but why bother? He’s already tattooed spiderwebs around your nipples, it’s not like this is something new.

Knock knock knock. Your eyes move first, but your head follows stiffly, careful not to move your torso too much and cause an error. 

“Do you wanna’ get that…?” You ask. Chance shakes his head. 

“It’s open!” He shouts without pulling his attention from your tattoo. A thrill runs through you; whoever is about to open the door is going to get an eyeful. 

The man that walks through the door stuns you. Literally. It takes everything in you not to let your jaw hang slack like a fool, like a teenage girl who has just seen the hot new guy. He’s tall, easily surpassing six feet, wears a black jeans, and a sheer tank top that allows you to see through the fabric, letting you see all the ink that decorates his toned torso. Your eyes dance over his tattoos, wondering passively which ones Chance did. You recognize his style in quite a few pieces. Your gaze holds a weighted bias; you do love an inked up man. But even if he weren’t, you think your reaction would be the same. 

“What’s up, man?” 

“Nothing,” he says casually, his voice low and smooth. There’s a sadness there, something that you want to reach your fingers into and pull out, but you refrain, watching him quietly as he approaches the couch to your left. 

Chance pauses, pulling the gun from your chest, to introduce you to the nameless friend.  He fist bumps him and nods to you. “This is Eric.” 

“Hi Eric,” you say with an obvious, enticing smile in your voice, extending your hand nonchalantly upwards to him. You don’t seem to shy away from the fact that your tits are just… out, but Eric seems daunted by the visuals – god, is he shy? Your stomach clenches at the thought. The way he’s desperately trying to avoid looking at them is cute, and you feel your smile widen further. You let out a tittering laugh, and push your hand closer to him, urging him to take it.

“It’s okay, they’re kind of unavoidable right now…” you confess, assuring him that any glances won’t be met with a smack across the face. Secretly, you welcome them, wanting his pretty green eyes to trail over every inch of your body until he has it memorized, or can’t resist touching you. Either or. He chuckles, breathily, and takes your hand, giving it a gentle shake. Like the rest of his body, his hand is covered in tattoos, and you can’t help but play with his long fingers as he pulls away. As your hands break apart, you suppress the urge to reach for it again, pulling it back to you. Eric takes his place on the sofa, grabbing a cigarette from the pack that lies on the table. You hear the flick of the lighter, and the familiar scent fills the room.

Chance’s hands return to your chest, laying carefully atop your skin. The hypnotic puncturing of the tattoo needle lulls you into a relaxed state, but every time you look over, Eric’s enchanting green eyes dart away, feigning innocence. He looks at the window, Chance’s bookcase, anything that isn’t you. Each time, you smile, feeling like the butterflies in your stomach are going to rupture through the layers of your skin.

When you finally catch him, his eyes are sweeping along your body, watching as your chest rises and falls with each breath, watching as Chance draws on your skin, creating a permanent piece of artwork to be admired, though you gather that he’d rather admire the artwork that was your body. After painting your form with his gaze, his eyes finally meet yours, and as though by supernatural force, you hold him there, squeezing as tightly as you possibly can. He doesn’t look away, and you blink your eyes slowly, affectionately, like a cat. Eric’s full, pink lips pull up in a crooked smile, and he looks down at his hands, nodding softly. You wonder what he just agreed to in his head. There’s an undeniable draw to him, a pulling sensation deep in your stomach, and you think, with the way his eyes dance over your face, he feels it too. 

Chance interrupts the staring contest going on between the two of you. “Alright, I think we’re finished. There’s a full length mirror in the bathroom.” 

Carefully, you sit up and scurry to said bathroom. There’s a few moments of silence until it’s shattered by a high-pitched squeal; your reaction can be heard throughout the apartment. The bat is hanging perfectly between your breasts, clinging to a crescent moon, and looking so real that it might just flap away at any moment. 

“Chance!” You rush back into the living room, and clap your hand over your mouth for a moment before speaking. “Chance, oh my god, I love it! Thank you so much!” 

“What do you think?” You turn around, bouncing on your heels excitedly. Eric’s pupils dilate, black amongst the green. He watches as your ample cleavage jiggles with your enthused little steps, and makes a fist on his knee. You can see the wheels turning as he coaches himself to focus on the tattoo, to stop staring at your tits and actually comment something useful. 

“It’s really sick, man. Nice work.” 

Chance thanks him with a handshake before tapping the table again. He has a piece of Saniderm on his lap, cut to size and ready to cover up your new ink. Eric watches, knowing the process well. 

Once you’re sealed up, you hop off the table and reach for your shirt and the wad of cash that’s tucked in your pocket. You pass the cash to Chance, and shake out the tank top. Eric almost seems sad to see you get dressed, watching silently as you pull the sheer grey tank top over your head – as though it really covers anything. It’s sheer enough to see the tattoo through, and your nipples are two peaks in the fabric. 

“Hey, I’ll be back. I gotta do a tattoo downtown. You guys gonna chill here?” 

You both exchange a glance, and seeing nothing wrong with that proposal, you shrug. Eric nods his head. “Sure, we’ll hang here.” 

“Cool, cool. I’ll be back in a couple hours.” 

And just like that, you two are alone. The silence hangs heavy between you two, an adolescent awkwardness crackling in the space between your bodies. You clear your throat. He raises his attention to you, brows lifted on his forehead. 

“So… how about a tattoo tour?” 

“A… tattoo tour?” He asks, confused. 

‘Yeah, y’know. I show you mine, you show me yours.” You pause, looking into his eyes, letting the innuendo land as heavy as he allows it to. “What they mean, where we got them, so on and so forth.” 

“I get tattoos because I like them… a lot of mine are just…” 

“I don’t care,” you say, standing up. “I want to see them.” 

He stands up, and you crane your neck to look up at him. Now that you’re next to him, the size difference is staggering. “Holy fuck, you’re tall.” 

He chuckles, and tosses his shirt on the sofa. You mimic the action, tossing your own shirt over to join his. Taking it a step further, you pull your grey sweats down your hips and step out of the circles. You take a step closer, fingers outstretched to touch him. You start at his hairline. 

“Face tattoos... crazy. Commitment is off the charts.” 

Again, he laughs. 

“To someone?” Bold. Your fingers continue their path over his shoulders.

He shakes his head solemnly, fingers trailing over a quote on your forearm. “No. Not to anyone.” 

So he’s single. Good. His hands scan over your tattooed arms, ghosting over the flesh like a nervous lover. His thumb rubs over the tattoo just before the crook of your arm – a portrait of a cat. 

“My cat. She died.”

He furrows his brows, knowing the staggering sensation of loss. You hum, and continue your exploration of his body, digits gently raking over each piece of artwork that decorates his toned physique. Your fingers trail over the giant eye that stares at you from his sternum, trailing over the rays that come off it. You ghost over his biceps and his highly-inked forearms, your fingertips tasting each tattoo. 

Finally, you reach his torso, his abdomen. All taut skin and muscles. He reaches between your breasts, lightly tracing the new addition. It’s still tender and warm underneath the plastic. He smiles.

“Why is good crossed out?”

“Hm?” He looks down. Your finger hovers over the GOOD BOY tattoo.

“Are you not a good boy?” You ask, dropping the pad of your finger to his skin, and outline the words carefully. “Why’s it crossed out?” 

His cock stirs in his jeans at your delicate touch. It doesn’t help that you’re so close to him. “I don’t think I am, no. Not with all the shit I’ve done.”

A laugh tumbles from your lips and your hand trails farther down, caressing the centipede that curves past the waistband of his jeans. You long to go deeper, but in a shocking act of good behavior, you start to let your hand drop to your side. Eric’s large hand catches it at the wrist, encircling it with ease.

“Don’t… stop… please?” 

Your eyes light up with a tantalizing mixture of lust and disbelief. 

“Eric,” you mutter almost tauntingly, tasting his name on your tongue. “I can’t see the rest. You’ve got clothes on…” 

The statement is a weighted one, but it’s also factual; the clothes are impeding you from seeing the inevitable ink that decorates his lower body. His gaze drifts from yours to the couch again, before he takes long, careful steps, dragging you with him. His grip is soft but stern, his fingers circling your wrist like a shackle. 

“Sit with me.” His voice is soft, subdued, barely above a whisper and dripping with an eroticism that you want to wrap yourself in. Instead of pulling him next to you, he pulls you harshly down on top of him. Your legs spread on either side of his hips, straddling him. Between your legs, pressed against the fabric of your jeans is a growing stiffness. You look at your bodies, pressed together and spot the bulge in his jeans, considerably more prominent than before. You laugh through your nose – it’s a giddy chuckle, one that tumbles out of your mouth with an elation behind it. Hearing your laugh, Eric looks up, his brows pulling together. 

“I don’t usually do this,” he confesses. You can tell, he’s worried you’re laughing at him, poking fun at his desperation – which couldn’t be farther from the truth. To remedy that, you lean down and press your mouth against his pouted one, feeling the firmness of his chin against yours. It takes a moment, but eventually, his soft, pink lips relinquish and press back against yours. You nip at his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He grants it, and your tongue swipes along his, teasingly. 

He’s warm against you, the heat comes off his skin in waves. You wrap your arms around his neck and tug your body closer like you’re trying to melt together. His hands find your ribcage and sink downwards, trailing over the curve of your waist, and the gentle flare of your hips. You shudder into his touch, contentedly. His hips twitch up into you, pressing his hardening cock into your heat. 

“Eric,” you breathe into his open mouth. “I think you’re really hot.” 

He nods against your lips, wordlessly agreeing that the feeling is mutual. You inhale his scent as it mingles with your own and pull back, resting your forehead on his. 

“I wanna’ see the rest of your tattoos…” you whisper. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck, twirling the dark strands gently.

Eric separates from you, just enough to bring his hand up between your bodies, to cup your cheek, completely enveloping it with its size. He looks at you, memorizing all the features of your face. He seems satisfied with whatever he sees, and pulls you back in for a fiery kiss, his tongue slipping out to wrestle with yours. 

Your hands are the ones that are wandering now, finding the button of his jeans. Breaking the kiss to free his cock, you pause to admire it. Framed by a thatch of dark hair, it’s long like the rest of him, and the head already weeps with anticipation. You pull his jeans down his hips and underneath his ass, tugging until they’re pooled at his ankles, over top his combat boots. His legs are heavily tattooed too, but your attention is elsewhere. Greedy to feel the warmth in the palm of your hand, you reach forward, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, your thumb swiping over the tip. Just as you expected; throbbing, velvet warmth. As your thumb spreads the bead of precum down the head, down the length of it, Eric’s breath hitches. 

You look up. 

He’s watching you. Intently. His eyes are locked on your hand as it moves, teasing him. Like he feels your gaze on him, without moving his head, he looks up at you. There’s a deep, deep longing in his eyes, a desperation and a plea to continue… he’s begging without saying a word. He longs for the comfort of pleasure, of knowing someone intimately. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s been with someone, how long his apparent loneliness has consumed him.

Taking a breath, you let go of his dick and straighten up. Your fingertips scrape along your own hips, dipping underneath the elastic of your underwear, catching them on your hand. You continue sliding your hands down your legs, taking your underwear with them. Once you're free of them, Eric’s eyes flicker from tattoo to tattoo, but come to rest on your face, looking deep into your eyes. You suck your bottom lip, catching it between your teeth and return to the couch, straddling him once more. Tenderly, he kisses a heated line from your neck down to your breasts. His lips press against one of the aching, swollen peaks before drawing it into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple. You look down, watching him and let out a particularly pornographic whimper. It feels so fucking good… he’s so attentive.

You’re on your knees, but he’s big enough to reach you, even there. Eric’s dick twitches against your aching center, twitches up between your folds. You whimper, nodding, granting him whatever permission he needs. It’s enough, because he reaches down, taking himself into his hand, and after a few strokes, he lines it up with your wet slit. He kisses you as he pushes himself into you, as though it lessens the shock of his thick cock as it breaches your slick heat. Your jaw comes down, poised in a silent scream as he splits you open, finding comfort within your clenching walls. 

He jerks his hips once, burying himself all the way inside. A deep, throaty groan erupts between you two, and you wrap yourself around him tight, supporting yourself on his neck. You raise yourself off his cock slowly, feeling the slick tug as it slides out. Your walls clench around it like they’re desperately trying to pull it back in, and you grant them their wish, slamming yourself back down on his cock with a high-pitched whine. You find a quick rhythm of bouncing on his cock, and Eric tenses underneath you, his cock twitching deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Oh my god.” 

You nod, already breathless. Though you’re in control of the speed, his cock is bullying, and the tip kisses your cervix every time you lower down onto it. Your breaths are replaced by moans as you ride him, bouncing on his length with reckless abandon. 

Mid-movement, Eric suddenly grips your hips tight, freezing you in place. You look down at him, pupils blown wide with lust, but perplexed. He’s focused on your cunt with his debauched expression; slack-jacked and heavy lidded with lust. He bucks his hips up hard, slamming into you with a renewed fervor. You jerk forward, collapsing into his shoulder. Silently, you thank god for the music that’s cutting the heavy sound of his hips as they slam against you and the wet squelch of your cunt as it swallows him whole, otherwise, you’d be almost embarrassed. You hold yourself up on your knees, letting Eric do the work. 

“Fuck yeah, baby… you feel so fuckin’ good…” he growls, one hand slithering around to grip the firmness of your ass. He kneads the soft, pliable flesh with his massive hand, pulling a desperate, whimpering moan from your lips. He feels so good. Your senses are consumed with him; the way he looks at you, hungrily, deeply, like he’s trying to unravel you from the inside out. The way he smells, cologne, the faint lingering scent of cigarettes, and the heady mix of mutual sex and sweat as he continues his assault on your dripping cunt. The way he feels, fucking into you with an insatiable hunger, like he’s trying to get deeper than he actually can. Everything about him is consuming you and you quickly feel yourself growing obsessed with him. 

The coil in your stomach winds tight around itself, a building pressure deep in your core. Your breaths are ragged, broken with pleasurable whines and moans, as he buries himself inside you over and over again. 

“Fuck, Eric… fuck, don’t stop… don’t you dare stop…! Shit!” 

His hand abandons its place on your cheek and comes to rest between your legs. His middle and ring finger slide down to your entrance, feeling his own cock as it slides in and out; slick and coated in mutual arousal. He grits his teeth, bringing some of the slickness around to your clit, where he encircles it with tight movements with his thumb. Electricity courses through your veins, and you shudder at the explosion of white, hot  heat on your cunt, your eyelids fluttering shut in bliss. 

You feel his muscles draw up tight as he slams into you with one final, hard thrust. His cock twitches as he releases, pumping his essence deep inside your cunt. You feel it flood you and leak out the sides, running down your thighs and dripping heavily onto his. Languidly, Eric thrusts his cock up into you, feeling every clench, fucking the cum back up into you as it dribbles out. The feeling of that paired with his ministrations on your cunt makes you come. Hard. You let out a deafening moan as your spasming walls clamp down on his cock, milking it as your own orgasm washes over you. You seize up, back arching with pleasure, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red, indented crescent moons amongst the ink. 

“Fuck m-me… oh my god…. Oh my god, Eric!” 

Eric’s chest heaves as he catches his breath, still coming down off the high of the fuck. Sweat glistens on his forehead and chest, and you run your hands along the length of his torso, scraping your nails against the skin. 

“That was fuckin’ amazing,” he pants, his hands coming to rest atop your thighs. His cock softens inside you, and you almost don’t want to move. But… this isn’t your apartment and while Chase has seen your tits, he hasn’t seen you fully naked and it’s going to stay that way. 

You lift up, letting Eric’s heavy, flaccid cock fall from your cunt. You wince as you straighten up, backing off the couch carefully. Your lips are spread in a delighted smile, watching Eric as you dress yourself, pulling your clothes back onto your sweaty, fucked out body. Eric reaches down to pull his jeans back up, tucking himself into the confines of the fabric. 

You plop down next to him, laughing lightly. “That was really great. I don’t think I’ve gotten fucked like that in a long time. Maybe ever.” 

“Ever?” 

“Ever.”

By the time Chance gets home, you’re both asleep on the small sofa, back to chest, and Eric’s arm wrapped sleepily around your waist. Chance knows what’s happened, but he doesn’t mention it when you wake up.

[andy-15-07]

Ashes and Hope

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 1295

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The town had settled into a rhythm of quiet survival under Tommy’s watchful eye. Jackson, Wyoming, was a rare pocket of normalcy in a shattered world. Snow dusted the tops of cabins, and the soft hum of generators filled the air. The occasional bark of a dog or the chatter of kids playing in the snow hinted at something close to life before the outbreak.

Joel leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, staring out at the quiet street, lost in thought.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice broke through the crisp air. She stepped out, her boots crunching against the snow, a mug of coffee in her hands. “You’ve been out here a while.”

Joel glanced her way, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. “Just thinkin’.”

Y/n sat on the porch swing, setting her mug down on the small side table. “About them?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer at first, his gaze fixed ahead. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand over his graying beard. “Always.”

Y/n nodded, the weight of their shared grief pressing on her chest. “Me too.”

They didn’t have to say their daughters’ names. Sarah and Lily. The pain of losing them was as raw now as it had been the night the world fell apart. Sarah, Joel’s light, his reason for everything, gone in a single gunshot. And Lily, Y/n’s fiery, curious little girl, taken by the chaos and violence of the outbreak.

The cabin door creaked open behind them, and Ellie stepped out, pulling her jacket tight against the cold. “Are we brooding again?” she teased, her tone light but her eyes watchful.

Joel turned to look at her, his expression softening slightly. “What do you need, kid?”

Ellie shrugged. “Just bored. Thought maybe we could do something that doesn’t involve sitting around.”

Y/n smiled faintly, gesturing for Ellie to join them. “Come here, kiddo.”

Ellie plopped down on the swing next to Y/n, her legs swinging idly. “This place is so weird,” she muttered. “People just… live here? Like it’s normal?”

Joel crossed his arms. “It’s as normal as it gets these days.”

“Yeah, well, it’s freaking me out,” Ellie said. She looked at Y/n. “You ever think about what it’d be like if things didn’t go to shit?”

Y/n’s smile faded, and she glanced at Joel. “Every day,” she said quietly.

Ellie tilted her head, sensing the heaviness in the air. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Joel interrupted. He leaned against the railing, looking at Ellie. “Sometimes it helps to talk about ‘em. The ones we lost.”

Ellie hesitated. “Do you want to talk about them? Your daughters?”

Joel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might shut her down. But then Y/n reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Maybe it’s time,” she said softly.

Joel exhaled sharply, his breath visible in the cold air. “Sarah… she was smart. Funny. Always had a way of makin’ me laugh, even when I didn’t want to. She loved soccer. And she had this… stubborn streak. Always had to have the last word.”

Y/n smiled faintly. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Joel shot her a look, but there was no real bite in it.

“What about Lily?” Ellie asked, looking at Y/n.

Y/n’s eyes glistened as she spoke. “Lily was… a firecracker. She never sat still. Always asking questions, always exploring. She loved animals. She used to say she wanted to be a vet when she grew up. I used to think she’d save the world someday.”

Ellie’s expression softened. “They sound amazing.”

“They were,” Joel said quietly.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the past hanging over them. But then Ellie broke the quiet. “You know, you guys are like… the worst at being sad. It’s depressing.”

Y/n chuckled, ruffling Ellie’s hair. “Thanks, kid. Real subtle.”

Ellie grinned. “I try.”

Joel shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”

The cabin’s small kitchen was warm and cozy, the soft glow of candles flickering on the table. Joel and Y/n sat on one side, Ellie across from them, leaning over her bowl of stew. She was talking animatedly about some of the kids she’d seen playing outside earlier, her hands flailing as she described their snowball fight.

“And this one kid—he was, like, half my size—nailed this other kid right in the face. It was hilarious,” Ellie said, grinning.

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Did you join in?”

“Nah,” Ellie said, shrugging. “Didn’t want to show them up. Gotta let the little ones win sometimes, you know?”

Y/n chuckled, resting her chin in her hand. “You? Holding back? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

Ellie smirked. “Yeah, well, I’m maturing. Becoming a better person.”

Joel snorted. “Sure you are, kid.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the clinking of spoons against bowls the only sound. After a moment, Ellie looked up, her brow furrowed. “Did you guys ever, like… think about having more kids? Before, I mean.”

Y/n glanced at Joel, caught off guard by the question. Joel leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I think… after Sarah, I didn’t really see it happenin’ again,” he said quietly. “Felt like she was enough. And after… well, it wasn’t somethin’ I could even think about.”

Y/n nodded, her voice soft. “I always wanted more. Lily used to ask me for a little brother or sister all the time. But life got in the way. Then, after everything… I couldn’t imagine bringing a kid into a world like this.”

Ellie’s expression softened. “Yeah, I get that. But you guys are, like, really good at this whole parent thing. Even with me.”

Y/n smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself, kiddo.”

Ellie grinned, but her eyelids were drooping. “Okay, that’s enough heart-to-heart for one night. I’m going to bed before you two start crying or something.”

Joel smirked. “Goodnight, Ellie.”

“‘Night, old man. ‘Night, Y/n,” Ellie called over her shoulder as she shuffled off to her room.

The cabin grew quiet again, the only sound the faint crackling of the fire. Joel stood and began clearing the table, but Y/n reached out, grabbing his wrist. “Leave it,” she said softly. “Sit with me.”

He hesitated, then sat back down, his eyes searching hers.

“You ever think about what she said?” Y/n asked.

Joel frowned. “What d’you mean?”

“Having more kids,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joel leaned back, his arms crossed. “Y/n…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupted. “The world’s too dangerous. It’s selfish. But Joel, look at where we are. This town… it’s safe. We have people. We have each other. Maybe it’s not so crazy to think about it.”

Joel was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the fire. “It’s not just the world that scares me,” he admitted. “It’s losin’ them. Again. I don’t know if I could survive that.”

Y/n reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. “I’m scared too. But isn’t it worth it? To have something good? Something that’s ours?”

Joel’s grip on her hand tightened. He didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes said everything.

Y/n smiled softly. “Just think about it, okay?”

He nodded, his voice low. “I’ll think about it.”

They sat there together, the weight of the past still heavy on their shoulders, but for the first time in years, the possibility of a future didn’t feel so far away.