#i should be sleeping but instead im up making edits

[moxie-girl]

i should change my edit tag to 'moxie tortures aa prosecutors' cause thats all i seem to be doing rn. anyway this song has so much potential for edits but i feel like this part really fits sebby... poor boy

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[mysunshinetemptress]

Anxiety (lil McCabe universe)

Leah Williamson x McCabe!reader!ex

Magdalena Eriksson x Pernille Harder x McCabe!reader!platonic

Warnings: Talks of anxiety, not edited or proofread

You’re anxious, a feeling that has followed you around way longer than you would like to admit, a feeling that has consumed you way longer than your family, your Mam, knows about, longer than anyone knows about.

You had tried to tell her about the funny feeling you had as a kid, your little heart racing, your mind spinning, spiraling into the never-ending feeling of fear, but there was always something else, someone else. It wasn’t your Mam’s fault, nor was it your siblings’. They had things they needed her for, their own problems. Your Mam had her own problems. Surely this feeling, this sickening feeling, wasn’t as important as your siblings’ feelings, their needs and wants. They were older, so much older, they had more serious problems, more important problems and feelings than this feeling you were dealing with, right?

You didn't know why you so sick, it was so much more than butterflies, defenitly not excitement, it wasn't until you had been all grown up and earning enough money to visit a doctor did you get a diagnosis.

"Miss McCabe, you suffer from anxiety"

You had felt a weight being liftied off you the moment your feelings had been givien a name, that you weren't just looking for attention, you weren't just making it up, made you feel so much lighter then you had ever felt.

"You said you have been suffereing with these feelings since you were a child, did you ever try to tell anyone."

You nod, you had tried, when you couldn't go to your mam, you had tried one of your older siblings, you had tried to tell Katie, but she was to busy to deal with you "Y/n, can't you see i'm playing with Lauryn, your supposed to be a big girl now not a baby stop makeing things up for attention." you dropped your head as Katie muttered "Seriously she really needs to grow up."

"I tried." the docotor nodes her head her eyes scanning your solum face "How come you decided to look for answers now? For help now?"

You pick at your fingers "My girlfriend...She-she said she was worried about me...that-that sometimes I have trouble sleeping" you take a breath picking at your fingers looking towards the door, "I have trouble concentrating, she...I don't...she just said i should come here, that i should get a check up make sure im ok." The doctor smiled at you softly "If your girlfriend hadn't pushed you to come see me, would you have come eventualy."

Would you? "No" she looks surprised at your answer "No? why?" You look at the door again picking at the skin around your nails "I-I-I have to get on with it, I have to learn to get on with it-I have to grow up." The doctor looks even more surpriesed, sad, unhappy with your answer. Why is she unhappy with your answer?

“This isn’t something you can grow out of Miss McCabe, anxiety isn’t something you should just push on with, it can cause serious mental health problems for you if you do.” You shake your head no “I-I don’t have time-I have to get on with it-it’s the only way.” The doctor lets out a sigh “You said you come from a big family, surely one of them doesn’t mind talking to you about these things.” You shake your head again “They don’t need this, they-they don’t need anymore then they already have.” The doctor wants to press on you can see that but her attention is pulled to your bloody hands, you’ve picked at them till they bled. She looks to the door “Your girlfriend then.” Again you shake your head.

Leah doesn’t deserve the stress of something being wrong with you, she doesn’t deserve the possible sacrifices she’ll have to make in order to make you feel comfortable and happy. Not her,not Leah, not when she is the only person who looks at you and not through you, the only person whose hand fits and hold yours instead of passing through.

“I can look after myself, I-I have done it for long enough.”

You can look after yourself, you have done it for long enough, it’s the mantra you repeat in your head again and again as you arrive at the training grounds for Bayern, it’s the mantra you repeat every time your anxiety strikes and you feel yourself pick at your hands.

Bayern Munich, fresh start, no Katie, no Arsenal, no stupid bets, no Leah. Y/n, just Y/n.

“Hi.” Bayern Munich and Magdalena Eriksson, Bayern Munich and Pernille Harder.

You look behind you trying to see if it’s anyone else they are talking to, but there’s no one, there’s only you.

You.

You think for a second and the voices scream in your head, they are just like the others, this is a joke another bet, who can get closest to the new girl first. Who can pretend to be her friend the best.

Your hands, your poor hands sting as you begin to pick at them again, they are the same as the others, they have to be, all you are is worth a bet, 100 quid.

But still, there is no one behind you, no one new in the car park and the older women continue to smile at you softly.

Magda looks at your hands her smile faltering, she drags her eyes up your body, now noticing your heaving chest, your panicking, your shivering slightly yet you speak, you force yourself to talk to them even though it’s scaring the living shit out of you

“Hi”

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: Part two for you lovelies! I don't have much to say other than I am already working on part 3 and writing lewis as a bit of an ass is quite fun! As always ignore the fact that I cannot keep a tense for the life of me, Im grateful you guys seem to love me anyways lmao.

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

Your room is freezing when you wake in the morning, the room eerily silent. You groan, rolling over to grab your phone while trying to keep as much of the comforter over you as possible.

“Fuck.” You mumble to yourself when you see that your phone hasn’t been charging all night, despite being plugged in.

You sit up, looking around the room, reaching over to flick on the lamp beside your bed, nothing. You evidently lost power overnight. You're surprised that in a house this lush there isn’t already a generator going but you suppose someone needs to start it, or it only powers certain things. One thing you know for certain is your room is freezing. You make your way out of bed and over to the fireplace in your room, hoping there is wood nearby to warm you up. You can’t help but let out another groan when you see the electric starter on the gas fireplace, no use if the power is out. You decide to go see if the rest of the house is a little warmer, or if you can at least be miserable with someone else. You rummage through your suitcase to find a warmer set of pajamas, settling on a thick pair of flannels that have kept you warm for nearly a decade. Once you've changed you grab the throw blanket off the back of the nearby chair, wrapping it around you like a cape and decide to make your way down into the house.

The house is completely silent as you wander down the stairs, evident that everyone else is still asleep. It doesn’t surprise you, you haven’t been good at sleeping recently, always waking up much earlier than you would like to. You imagine everyone else stayed up for a while after you disappeared to your room the night before, possibly all nursing a slight hangover this morning with the amount they could drink from your experience. You quietly make your way to the one room you had become familiar with the night before, the den. You stop in your tracks the moment you enter the room, surprised to find Lewis on the couch. He’s got a blanket draped across his legs and a large fire going in the fireplace in front of him. You stand frozen in the doorway for a moment, not sure if you should join him or run back to your room to avoid interaction. You finally decide it's far too cold to let his arrogant attitude keep you from getting a little bit warmer. Before you risk settling into the den alongside him you decide to go in search of a way to possibly make a warm beverage. As you make your way past him and towards the kitchen you mutter out your most polite “good morning” to which you only receive a subtle hum, almost as if he didn’t even know the sound had left his body. You roll your eyes, a constant with him around, finally making your way into the kitchen to rummage. Nothing in the kitchen works and even the hot water heater seems to be electric, the water coming from the pipes being ice cold.

“There’s a kettle on the fire, tea bags and mugs are next to the coffee maker.” Lewis’ voice calls out through the quiet house. You can’t help but wonder for a moment if someone else has woken up and he is directing them instead but as you stand there you hear nothing else. You quickly grab a tea bag and a mug, making your way back to the den and the warmth of the fire as rapidly as possible.

“Thanks.” You say quietly, offering him a small smile.

“Yeah,” He says, his gaze never leaving the fire in front of him, “should be ready in a second.”

“Okay.” You nod, settling on the floor in front of the fire despite the many cush couches and seats available.

The two of you sit in silence much to your pleasure, perfectly content to listen to the crackle of the fire instead of jabs and insults from the man behind you. The sound of him getting up from his seat draws you out of the trance that the soothing fire had put you in. It takes you a moment to realize that he is grabbing the kettle, the sound of water bubbling now coming over the sound of the crackling wood. He wordlessly fills his mug, setting the kettle and pot holder down on the hearth in front of you before moving back to his seat on the couch. You lean forward to grab the kettle, your blanket falling from your shoulders as you do so, exposing you to the still rather chilly air. You can feel his eyes on you as you pour your water and you can’t help but assume he has taken note of your worn out flannel pajamas, having noticed that he was dressed in what appeared to be a brand new Dior sweatsuit. Once you return the kettle to the hearth and adjust your blanket you turn to look at him over your shoulder, a deep smirk evident on his features.

“What?” You ask, your tone already argumentative.

“The second your blanket fell you started grumbling about winter and being cold. Not a fan I take it?” He chuckles.

You hadn’t even realized you were complaining as you made your tea, your cheeks flushing slightly at the realization.

“Moved away from it for a reason.” You mumble, returning your attention to the fire in front of you.

He doesn’t respond, allowing you to both sit in silence and enjoy the warmth and peaceful air before your family swarms the house. Just as you finish your tea you hear him start to move behind you, catching your attention. You glance back to him, seeing him folding up the blanket he had been using. 

He notices your attention, turning toward you after he throws the blanket over the couch, “Snow looks like it’s finally stopped, gonna go out and shovel so I can finally get out of your hair.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, choosing to move past it, “Dylan has a plow, he’ll be up soon.”

“It’s blocked in the garage, gotta at least shovel our cars out before we can get it out.” He tells you, grabbing his phone from the table and walking away towards his room just off the den.

His habit of leaving the room without a final thought or exit bugs you more than it should, just another thing that makes him seem arrogant and aloof. You decide to just settle in again in front of the fire, more than happy to allow him to dig the plow out of the garage, you figure he’ll appreciate the workout anyway. It doesn’t take long until you hear him reammerge from his room, the sound of snow pants swishing behind you. You focus on the sounds of him putting on his boots in the foyer mixed with the subtle murmurs of people waking up throughout the house, disappointed that your silence has come to an end. Not long after you hear Lewis shut the front door, your dad is appearing in the den, a thick robe over his pajamas.

“Hey Kiddo, how long have you been up?” He asks, his voice pleasantly quiet.

“Maybe an hour or so, honestly not sure.” You say, leaning slightly towards him as he bends down to squeeze your shoulder.

“Power has been out since you got up?” His voice stays soft as he sits down in a chair near you.

You hum, nodding before gesturing to the kettle still sitting in front of the fire, “There might still be some warm water in there if you want to make some tea or something.”

“It’s a nice fire you’ve got going here.” He tells you as he gets up to check the kettle.

“Lewis had it going when I got up.” You admit, unsure why you bothered, probably so it didn’t come up later.

“Where is he?” Your dad asks, wandering into the kitchen to find a mug.

“He just went out to shovel, I guess the plow is blocked in the garage, we’ve gotta move cars or something before we can get it out.” You tell him as he emerges with only a tea bag, stealing your empty cup from the table beside you making you laugh, “Yes, I’m done, thank you for asking.”

Your dad just chuckles, pouring himself a cup of tea, leaving your used bag in the cup, “Well after I get some caffeine in me I’ll head out to help him, there’s a ton of snow out there and it sounded like it was going to be really wet.”

“Dad, no, I’ll go change and we can force Dylan to help when he gets up.” You immediately argue, not wanting to go shovel with Lewis in the slightest but far too aware of your fathers back problems to allow him to shovel after a storm like this.

“I’m not a cripple, Y/N, I take care of our house back home during the winter, I’m perfectly capable of helping out here.” Your fathers voice is stern, his choice of words causing you to cringe.

“I know, I just, I worry about you, I don’t want you to be in pain for the holidays. Lewis is an athlete and Dylan and I are still young enough that we can bounce back. Just stay inside and help keep Tom sane while Beatrice and Vanessa freak out.” You try to reason with him, your voice quieting towards the end of your argument, unaware of who may be awake at this point.

“Fine, but if you guys need any help you let me know. Maybe I can get your brother's generator running, I would be shocked if he didn’t have one with all this.” He concedes, gesturing around to the lavish yet dark house surrounding you.

“Yeah, I was surprised there wasn’t something for the heat at least, seems very unlike Dylan.” You say, still confused by the complete lack of backup power.

Before your father can even respond you hear Vanessa's voice coming down the stairs, shrill and unforgiving for the hour of the morning.

“It’s all out Dylan, the tree in the foyer isn’t even on!” Vanessa's voice is grating, causing you and your father to exchange a look.

“Babe, it’s okay, I’m sure it will be back on soon.” Dylan's voice follows behind her. You can tell he’s only just woken up, not ready for this much drama.

“You put on the kettle for Dylan, I’m gonna go shovel.” You tell your dad with a pat on the shoulder, a teasing yet knowing smirk on your face.

“Sounds more like a whiskey kind of morning for him.” Your dad murmurs, making you laugh as you leave the room.

You can hear Vanessa freaking out in the kitchen, you manage to narrowly escape any interaction and make your way to your room to bundle up to head out to shovel.

Once you step outside you can feel just how much the temperature has dropped from the night before, your nostrils immediately stinging. You burrow your face further into your jacket, grabbing one of the shovels off of the porch and making your way down to the driveway. You notice that Lewis has made good headway so far, the porch and path fully cleared off as well as his car. Much to your surprise when you step around his tall Mercedes, you’re met with him cleaning off your small rental. 

“Is somebody dying inside?” Lewis asks when he notices your presence.

“What?” You ask, caught off guard.

“I know you’re not out here for my company Y/N, what's up?” He pries, not looking at you as he finishes removing the snow from your car before throwing the scraper in the back of his car again.

“Uh, I just came out to help.” You tell him, awkwardly holding up your shovel in his direction.

He looks in your direction, his eyebrows slightly raised in a surprised and disbelieving expression, “Okay then.”

He doesn’t say anything else, picking up his shovel from where he’d rested it in the snow bank and continuing to dig out your car. You follow his lead, beginning to chip away at the pile in front of the garage. You feel like you’re barely doing anything as you watch his large shovel fulls fly into the yard, making the snow you’re moving look like a joke.

“Thanks for cleaning off my car.” You say, trying your best to be polite.

He just shrugs, a grunt leaving his chest as he throws a particularly heavy load of snow, “Need to move it anyway.”

You just nod, continuing to shovel in silence. He has your car completely freed from the snow and is onto shoveling out a parking space off to the side by the time that you finish the small patch in front of the garage, you feel like your help is barely needed but you figure it’s better than nothing. Much to your surprise Lewis is the one to break the silence next.

“Is V inside freaking out?” He asks, leaning against his shovel to catch his breath for a moment.

You laugh quietly, nodding, not wanting to say anything that may make him defensive over his friend.

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” He says, returning to moving snow, “she can be like that when things aren’t perfect.”

You just nod, very aware of exactly what he is talking about. Only a few moments pass before you hear his voice again.

“Grab our keys from inside? Mine are in the bowl by the front door.” His question is barely a question, more of a demand but you just nod, figuring he’s doing all of the heavy lifting anyway.

When you step in the front door, Dylan is quick to rush into the entryway, “Hey, I’ll get the plow out, you guys really don’t need to keep shoveling.” His face is apologetic but you can tell he’s stressed.

“It’s alright, we’re just gonna move our cars so you can get the plow out.” You tell him, grabbing the keys from the table.

“Okay, thank you, tell Lewis thank you too. I’ll be out to plow once everything calms down a little bit in here.” He says, pulling you into a hug.

“Take your time, I think we’ll be in soon.” You say as you pull away, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile.

Back outside Lewis has successfully cleared out enough space for both of your cars to move to and get the plow out of the garage.

“Which one do you want me to move to?” You ask him, approaching him with his keys out for him.

“I’ve got it, you can go inside.” He says, pushing off from where he had been leaning against his car, taking his keys and waiting for yours.

“It’s fine, I can move a car, Lewis.” You say with a bit of a huff.

“I know Y/N, but I’ve got it.” He says back, annoyance creeping into his voice rapidly.

“Okay, fine, thanks I guess.” You snap, handing him your keys and turning around to head back inside. You hear him let out a small scoff as you walk away.

By the time you make it into the kitchen, a full meltdown is occurring. Vanessa and Beatrice are freaking out to your mother about not being able to make a proper family breakfast and Tom is berating your brother for not having fixed the generator before everyone arrived. Your parents are doing their best to get everyone to calm down, your mom trying to figure out something to make for breakfast while your father attempts to defend Dylan. You stand in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in, very ready to turn and run from it all.

“Holy shit.” His voice is close behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of his body as he approaches the same scene you’re now witnessing. You turn to look at Lewis, momentarily sharing a rare knowing glance.

“Happy fucking holidays.” You say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows before stepping into the kitchen, leaving him to take his own moment before joining the insanity as well.

“Hey Dylan,” You call out loudly, trying to cut through the shrill arguments occurring, “do you think you guys have any cast iron pans around here?”

“Uh, yeah, we do, why?” He stutters briefly, thrown off by the interruption from the argument he’s been having with his father in law.

“Cool, can you grab them for me?” You say calmly, not explaining before turning toward Vanessa, “Think you have eggs and bacon in the fridge?”

“Yeah I did but I’m sure it’s all gone bad now and we can’t exactly cook it.” Her response comes out whiny and you have to take a deep breath.

“The fridge is a big cooler, it’s plenty cold in here and in there, it’s fine.” You try to explain to her, moving to the fridge to grab some ingredients quickly without letting the cold air out.

You spot the eggs and bacon, also grabbing the first bits of fruit that you see, piling everything up on the counter behind you and sending your brother a look.

“Lewis,” You call to him, catching him off guard, not expecting you to speak to him, “can you go make sure the fire is going good? I need it really hot with a good amount of coals.”

He just gives you a look like you have multiple heads before slowly nodding and making his way toward the den. Vanessa still seems to be on the verge of tears as she sits at the kitchen island, evidently having decided that the whole trip is a wash because of this little hiccup. Your brother and father quickly catch on to what is going on in your mind, your dad grabbing a loaf of bread and stacking slices of it in tin foil as your brother begins laying bacon in one of the cast iron pans you made him grab. Once his bacon is all laid out you grab the pan from him and make your way to the den, passing Lewis on the way who once again looks at you like you’re insane. You’re pleasantly surprised by the fire he’s produced when you squat down in front of it, the pan of bacon in one hand as you grab the fire poker with the other. You begin to move the logs around, trying to make a nice bed of coals for your pan before you hear his voice arguing from behind you.

“Hey, you just asked me to make a nice fire and now you’re destroying it, what the hell is this?” He sounds childish, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re ruining the admittedly beautiful fire he made.

You shake your head, finally placing the pan of bacon down on the hot coals before standing to face him, “We’re gonna cook like we’re camping so your best friend doesn’t lose her absolute mind. Can you handle that?” Your voice is low, a bite to it caused by him not being able to go with the flow for a moment.

“Jesus, okay captain.” He shoots back sarcastically as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Okay V, bacon is on the fire, it’s gonna take a minute longer than usual but once that’s going I’ll get some eggs on as well and I think my dad already has the toast ready to go in.” You say, keeping your voice calm as you wrap an arm around your sister in law, “How about we get some fruit cut up to tie us over?”

The hug she wraps you in makes your heart clench, as annoying as her behaviour about the situation is you can feel in her hug that it was genuinely taking a toll on her.

“Thank you, oh my god I love you so much, best bonus sister in the world.” She says, squeezing you tight.

“Thank my dad and Dylan, they’re the ones that made me go camping so much as a kid.” You giggle, squeezing her back while sending both the men a slightly unimpressed look before cracking a smirk. They both knew you were joking, some of your fondest memories were from those camping trips.

“Oh, wait, Dyl, isn’t there a case of Champagne in the basement? We could do Mimosas!” Vanessa suddenly perks up, her mood shifting quickly.

“Yeah babe, there is, I'll go grab it, be just a second.” Dylan says eagerly, evidently pleased to see his wife excited about something for the first time all morning. 

“Glad to see one of your kids has got some problem solving skills, not the one I would have expected though.” Tom grumbles from the corner of the kitchen as Dylan disappears into the basement, your stomach clenching at the obvious distaste for the both of you in his voice, “I have been telling him to get the generator looked at for months, yet here we are. Hell, I could fix the thing if the damn kid had any tools.”

“Dylans got tools,” Lewis pipes up, having just walked back into the room, not even waiting for the evident rebuttal your father was about to lay out, “he’s got a whole workshop in the back shed. Breakfast is gonna be a while, maybe you and I can get it running.”

“Finally, some initiative, you’re a good man Lewis.” Tom says, already pushing off the counter and heading to suit up for generator repair.

“Dad.” Vanessa groans, pressing her forehead into her hands.

You can see every word your father would like to say bubbling at the surface, only keeping them inside for the sake of civility for the holiday, your mother quietly stewing from where she stands cutting up fruit. As Tom makes his way out of the room, Lewis moves over to where you and Vanessa are standing.

“Fair warning V, I don’t know the first thing about generators so I claim no responsibility for anything that happens, but he needs to get out of this damn room before it gets worse.” He tells her softly, squeezing her shoulder.

“Thank you.” She whispers softly, grabbing his hand to squeeze it back.

“By the way,” His voice is slightly louder now, his attention directed at you “I threw a few more logs on the fire to keep it hot, your bacon might need to get flipped soon, it was starting to get pretty violent.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” You say, surprised he even let you know, you would have sooner imagined he would let you burn it just to see you be yet another disgrace of the day, simply for his amusement. 

When Dylan returns from the dark basement you are whisking eggs alone in the kitchen, his arms are full of Champagne bottles as he looks around at the empty room, evidently confused.

“Sorry that took so long, hard to navigate in the dark, where-” He begins.

“Mom, Dad, Beatrice, and V are all in the den watching the bacon cook.” You laugh, catching on to his question.

“Tom and Lewis?” He asks, immediately suspect.

“They're outside trying to fix the generator.” You say sheepishly, knowing he would hate it but not wanting to lie to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He says under his breath, turning away from you for a moment.

“I know, I know, but Tom was going to go absolutely insane in here and as much as I dislike him I kinda think Lewis was trying to save your marriage.” You say quickly, trying to calm him down.

Dylan lets out a sigh, setting the heavy bottles down on the counter, “They better not hurt themselves fucking around with it. Besides they literally can’t fix it, it’s missing a part from the manufacturer, which I told Tom, but no, he has to go-” He begins to rant.

“Hey, Lewis at least kinda knows engines and if they can’t fix it, at least it keeps them busy for a while. Also just keep in mind that Dad would be just as overprotective of me as Tom is with V.” You try to diffuse the situation.

“Never thought I would hear you defend Lewis.” Dylan grumbles, ignoring everything else you had to say.

“I’m not,” You quickly defend yourself, “I’m just trying to give you the whole picture.”

“I’m glad you’re here, this family drives me insane sometimes. Nice to have someone normal.” Dylan admits to you quietly, not even looking up at you as the words leave his mouth.

“You may want to recalibrate on what you consider normal,” You start with a laugh, moving around the island to wrap him in a hug, “but I’m happy to be your partner in crime. Now, I’m gonna go cook some eggs and throw this bread on the fire. You pop some champagne and grab the oj and the fruit off the back deck.”

“Why is all of it on the back deck?” Dylan asks, doing his best to ignore the sappy sibling moment.

“It’s like a walk in refrigerator, even houses this nice only get those during the winter months.” You say teasingly as you walk away with your pan and bowl of eggs.

By the time breakfast is ready, Lewis and Tom have made their way back into the house, Tom finally conceding that he can’t fix the generator without extra parts. You are proud of Dylan as you see him bite his tongue, evidently having things to say but instead just thanking his father in law for trying. Vanessa is overjoyed with breakfast, thanking you profusely and taking a billion pictures because ‘it's just so rustic’, making you laugh every time she excitedly mentions it. Once again you feel yourself wanting to say something when you notice Lewis not touching anything that was made, sitting at the table with just a bowl of fruit and a mimosa, but you decide against it, deciding to just let breakfast progress peacefully. You do still find yourself hoping that he will leave the second after your brother finally gets outside to plow. 

Once everyone is done eating you find yourself offering to help Beatrice clean up at the same moment as Lewis, she of course takes both of your offers happily, both of you sharing a less than pleased glance. As you begin to pile dishes into the sink, only able to rinse them with cold tap water, you hear a humm. 

Your brothers voice cuts your thoughts off, talking to Lewis, “Hey man, I was gonna head out to plow, and I know you already shoveled and thank you so much, but I was wondering if I could convince you to hop on the skidoo while I’m on the hill, Vanessa freaks out when I plow the hill alone and I don’t think we need anymore drama this morning.”

“Yeah, no problem mate, just give me a minute.” Lewis says calmly.

“Guys, shhh.” You hiss from your spot at the sink.

“Well no shit.” Lewis mutters from behind you, where he stands wrapping up the bowl of fruit salad.

“Is that the heat?” You ask excitedly, whipping around to face them.

“Sounds like it.” Lewis chuckles, not looking at you, instead turning to open the fridge to put the salad away, a smile crossing both of your faces when you see the light illuminate the interior.

“Powers back on!” You hear your fathers voice call from the other room.

You decide to leave the dishes for another moment, heading into the den where everyone else has settled for the time being. When you enter you hear the TV click on, your father immediately finding the local news.

“The snowfall is the worst we have seen in almost a decade, nearing four feet in under twenty four hours. The winds were devastating, taking out power to most of the surrounding rural neighborhoods. Emergency crews are on the ground to aid in snow removal and extraction for those trapped indoors. If you are in a safe and warm location we urge you to stay inside, do not attempt travel, and wait for further updates.” The weather reporter's voice carries through the den, the TV cutting to scenes of parts of town that you had driven through absolutely ransacked with snow and downed trees.

“Lewis, darling, I know the snow has stopped but you have to stay, I would be worrying about you the whole time you were out there.” Beatrice says, her voice sounding overly desperate like calling someone home from war.

“It’s just a drive, Bea, I’d be totally fine once I made it to my house.” He argued patiently, his voice behind you.

“But the drive, you never know what will happen, and what if you get to your house and something happened there, then you have to drive all the way back here. I would be worried sick.” Beatrice continues to argue as if its her house, you know Vanessa would never turn Lewis down but the audacity of her mother doesn't cease to amaze you.

“Y/N and I got my car out of the snow this morning, if we can get the driveway plowed I’m good to go. Between my driving skills and the four wheel drive I’m sure I will be more than fine, I might have to sit through some delays but that will be it.” He continues to attempt to reason with the distraught woman.

“Lewis, she’s right, they’re telling people to stay put. It’s not worth the risk.” Vanessa pipes up, siding with her mom.

You can hear him let out a heavy sigh and you know he’s getting ready to concede, you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him disagree with Vanessa or tell her no to anything she wants.

“I don’t want to intrude, I know you weren’t planning on having me here. You guys should really have your family holiday the way you planned it.” He argues one last time, the weakest argument yet.

“Nonsense, you are family. I’m always happy to have the son I never got around.” Tom says eagerly. You cringe internally at his words, for both Dylan and Vanessa, you can even see distaste on Lewis’ face when you steal a glance at him.

“I do genuinely need to get to my house at some point, but I’ll stick around a little longer if it would make you feel better.” Lewis finally concedes, looking less enthusiastic than you had anticipated.

You quietly announce that you are going to go finish the dishes, wanting to get away from everyone for a moment. You’re only allowed to be alone for a moment before Lewis is joining you in the kitchen, much to your dismay.

“You’ll survive.” You hear him grumble as he begins cleaning up the kitchen behind you.

“I didn’t say anything.” You snap at him, unhappy with being attacked unprovoked.

“Didn’t have to, I know you don’t want me here.” He says firmly.

“It’s not my house, Vanessa can invite whomever she pleases.” You say, continuing with the dishes.

“Yeah, she can, doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.” He argues.

“Because you’re just buzzing to spend more time with me?” You question him harshly, finally turning to face him as you dry your hands.

“Oh fucking dying.” He says sarcastically, an over dramatic pained look on his face.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before once again he is leaving the room without a word.

“It’s only a week Y/N.” You mutter to yourself, taking a deep breath before busying yourself with cleaning. Maybe you can keep yourself so busy you won’t have to interact with him at all.

[elmuvahva]

RAHHHHH ITS DONE ITS HERE

I THOUGHT ID GIVE YOU GUYS THE FINAL AUDIO INSTEAD OF MAKING YOU WAIT FOR THE YOUTUBE UPLOAD BC EDITING IS A BITCH AND KNOWING MYSELF IT WILL TAKE A WHILE LMAO

but anywho i hope you like it bc i love it ahhhh im so proud!!

big thanks to @somerandomdudelmao for making such a cool series that managed to pull me out of my writers block LMAO

i'll post again when i make the video and it goes up spotify, but for now... i sleep :>

EDIT: TOTALLY FORGOT TO ASK BUT WHAT SHOULD I CALL IT? PLS GIVE ME IDEAS IM SO STUCK

[illneverrecover]

god dammit i like it (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: card shark/gambling Changkyun, cocktail server reader, poker!AU, hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff (in that order). ➛word count: 9005 (oof) ➛rating: M ➛warnings: excessive alcohol use, cursing, dirty talk, very very soft femdomme energy, oral sex (female and male receiving), changkyun begging, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, very brief mentions of blood, more soft clown changkyun. ➛summary: One last game, he tells himself. Just one last game, and he'll have enough money to take care of you the way you deserve, to show you how much you mean to him, to give you the life that you want... as long as he doesn't get caught. ➛notes: My second time writing Changkyun and as always, it's for the one and only @taetaesbaebaepsae. She had commissioned me (back when I still did those) to write something based on the God Damn MV, and then patiently waited for me to get my life together. I thoroughly enjoy creating new ways to hurt you with your ult bias, so I hope you enjoy this one! I did edit this one, but just barely, so please be gentle with me. Let me know what you think! ➛song: God Damn - I.M | Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo (Hippie Sabotage Remix) ➛tagging: @taetaesbaebaepsae @lvupmushroom @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife - thank you for letting me use your likeness for this, and for looking it over to make sure it would truly hurt Kristy's feelings. Teamwork makes the dreamwork, bbs.

He’s an idiot, but you already knew that. 

The alcohol in his gut sloshes as he moves to stand, his glass painfully empty. Changkyun stumbles towards the bar, the thrumming in his head keeping pace with the bass thumping through the speakers of the club. 

His eyes are glassy, faraway when he reaches his destination, the cup fumbling out of his grasp as he indicates to the bartender he wants another. The bartender looks him over, seemingly debating on following through with the request, but he turns to grab the bottle of whisky regardless. 

Changkyun hates it. Hates that he’s so drunk, that you’re not here, that the guy serving him thinks he’s a mess. He knows he’s an idiot, that he should stop. Put down the glass and pick up his phone. That he should just call you and tell you he’s sorry for being such a moron all the time, and that he’ll listen to you from now on. That he does love you, and wants to take care of you, and he can fucking prove it, if you’ll let him.

But then he recalls the look in your eyes when you caught him – the disappointment, the pain – and he reaches for his now refilled glass, taking a swig before facing back towards the club. 

He doesn’t deserve it – doesn’t deserve you, to provide for you, to do any of it. Not when he’s such a jealous asshole, not when he’s such a fuck up. You deserve the world. Someone who can really give you what you need. 

Fuck, he wants to be that. There’s some moments when things are good, when you’re tucked into his arms in bed, sleeping softly beside him that he thinks he might be that – someone who can provide, be reliable, strong. But then he remembers your fights; his words of jealousy and anger, his avoidant nonchalant fake ass attitude, his fragile little ego shattering with a flick of your eyebrow and a sharp word. 

So he leaves his phone in his pocket, instead slinking back towards his booth before dropping into it. It was easy to ignore his friends’ questions, to insist that he was fine, to pretend to be more interested in the tray of shots being dropped off at the table. He accepted the small glass, slamming it down before he could think about the burn, about the empty churning in his stomach.

 It was easy to ignore his friends, but damn, Changkyun was tired of pretending he wasn’t fucking exhausted of trying to be okay without you. 

It had always been push and pull with him.

From the minute Changkyun had walked into Yvonne’s, the lounge where you worked, you could feel the snap of electricity, the buzz of magnetism that pulled you to him. He would’ve stood out from his clothing alone; his lithe form draped in a bright red perfectly cut suit, shirtless under the vest to show off his tanned, broad chest. The combination of cut and color was lethal on him and he knew it, his dark hair swept back to allow the full potency of his sharp gaze. The group of men he was with were also impeccably dressed and attractive, but there was something about him that had your eyes following him, unable to look away.

Luckily for you, he had seemed to feel the same way.

His friends had gone to sit at the Baccarat table in Kat’s section, but he had stayed behind, noting which tables your body was sliding between as you delivered drinks before he made his selection at the blackjack table at the end of your section.

He couldn’t keep his gaze off of you, ordering more drinks than he was actually playing cards you were certain, but you weren’t going to stop a paying customer. The table he was at was pretty low stakes overall; the crowd was a bunch of casual players, but he had enough money to keep up with the table, so they were willing to ignore his flirting. 

You were also trying to ignore it, playing into him enough to ensure your tip would be secure, but also knowing that this was likely all just fun for the rudely handsome stranger. And if there is one thing you enjoy doing, it’s having a little fun – especially while at work.

But there was something in the way he looked at you, the way that he spoke to you, that had you hanging on a bit more than you’d care to admit. You wanted to tell yourself it was just the fact that he looked like that in that suit – that his tattoos and cocky smirk on top of it all was just too  much for you – but you knew it was more than that. 

It was when you were dropping off his umpteenth cocktail that he finally made a move, his tattooed hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you and slide a piece of paper into your palm. 

“When do you get off?”

You smirked, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood in your veins at his skin touching yours. “Why? Who wants to know?” 

His face deadpanned, his mouth dropping to a pout, and the juxtaposition of such a cute expression on such a lethal man made you laugh.

“I don’t even know your name,” you clarified, pulling away from his grip and tucking the paper into your apron.

“You could call me whatever you wanted,” he replies, voice low, glare fixed on you, “but others call me Changkyun.” 

The same things that had drawn you to him also made you roll your eyes, his cockiness frustrating just as much as it was attractive. He insisted on waiting until you had finished your shift, ensuring that you  made it safely to your car before reminding you about the paper tucked into your apron pocket. 

“It has my phone number on it so you can text me and let me know what time you want me to pick you up tomorrow.” He had murmured, his face so close to yours that you had forgotten to breathe. 

“Pick me up, hmm? Well aren’t we feeling awfully sure of ourselves,” you replied in a shaky breath, hating how much he was affecting you.  “What are you picking me up for?”

“I was hoping to take you on a date, but if you have things you need to do - errands, work - that’s fine with me too. Just let me take care of you.” 

It was as easy as that, the way he slid into your life. You hadn’t believed the offer, not really, but decided to text him anyway. You had some things to do before your shift, why use your gas when you could waste his?

But Changkyun was effortless, showing up in gray sweats and a black t shirt promptly at the time you requested, ready to chauffeur you all over town. He kept up with your teasing about his sad fuckboy music he was listening to, and let you mess around with his AC without complaint, like he had been doing it for a hundred years. 

Maybe that’s how he broke your walls down – acting so nonchalant, while also being dependable, always showing up when and how he said he would, always ready with an easy smile and a light joke. 

It could have been days, maybe weeks, but it didn’t take long for you to realize you wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. That you didn’t think you wanted to. 

Which was a complete contradiction to what you had told him – that you weren’t interested in anything serious, but if he played his cards right, you could be convinced for an evening of fun. An offer he had declined, telling you that he would wait until you changed your mind and wanted him fully. An answer that had infuriated you to no end, but one that felt inevitable. 

It was the 14th or 15th day of hanging out that he finally said the words, putting the feelings out into the space between you. His “I love you” came out rushed, as if the words had pained him, but the flush of his cheeks and shimmering soft eyes had you cracking, reaching for him to smash your mouth into his own. 

The kiss was unlike anything you had ever felt; the intense rush of heat nearly choking you when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. He groaned when you had opened, the feeling of his tongue on yours sending the kiss deeper, starved for each other. He tasted like whisky mixed with the faint hint of gummy bears he was always snacking on, and you were drunk on his mouth, drunk on him. You don’t even remember if you had said the words back, the volatile energy between you now snapped and now your full focus until it was fully satiated. 

Changkyun slotted into your life like he had always been there. The familiarity of it soothed you, brought you a deep peace that you didn’t know you needed – but there was the other side of you, the one that had never allowed anyone to get this close, that was terrified of what this would mean. That knew letting someone in also gave them the power to break you. 

It was always a push and a pull with him, an intoxicating desire to give in, to let your heart find a home with him – mixed with the fear that eventually, that home would be ripped away. 

“Fuck,” Changkyun cursed, and your fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, tugging. 

“No marks,” you reminded him, though you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the feel of his mouth at your throat. His tongue was laving at the junction of your skin between neck and collar bone, suckling it between his teeth before soothing it with sloppy kisses.

You had been pressed against the wall of your apartment, him latched to you like a man starving until you had coaxed him down the hall towards your bedroom, letting him push you down onto the bed before resuming his work on your neck.

“Mmm,” he acknowledged, though he didn't stop his ministrations. “I wish I could mark you up, make sure everyone at Yvonne’s knows who you come home to.”

You had let out a breathy giggle, eyes rolling though he couldn’t see it. His silly jealousy over the stares you got while working at the lounge was just that - silly, nothing of merit - and yet, you couldn’t help but play into it just a little bit.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” you whispered, using your hand in his hair to guide him to your mouth, only stopping his descent when he was a breath away. 

“Don’t play games, sweetheart,” Changkyun leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip, and your grip deepened. “We both know I’m the only one you’d let stick around this long.”

He was right about that. 

Closing the distance, you melted your mouth into his, letting him take control of the kiss for just a moment before you tug at his head once more, dragging him down your body. He complied quickly, pressing small kisses into your flesh as you guided him lower. 

“I don’t know,” you breathed, eyes hazy as Changkyun settled between your thighs, a groan leaving his throat when he saw you had forgone any kind of underwear beneath your skirt. “That one guy at table 7 was tipping really well, I bet I could-”

Your words were choked off with a moan as Changkyun dragged his tongue from the bottom of your cunt to your aching clit, giving it a singular swirl with the offending muscle before pulling back. 

“What was that?” he asked, but he didn't wait for a reply, not before delving back between your legs. He lapped at your center, taking his time tasting you before he settled up near your clit, sucking it between his lips. 

Any retort you had been working on died as he made quick work of you, sucking and licking until you were bucking up into his face, both hands tugging at his hair to hold him in place. He had become pliant beneath you, molding himself just where you needed in order to push you over the edge. Just when you felt like you couldn’t take any more, that you were going to snap, Changkyun slid two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards. 

“Please, come for me, sweetheart,” he begged, murmuring against the heat of your flesh. “I want it so bad.” 

His words were your undoing, and you find yourself doing exactly as he asked, moaning out his name as he takes you over the edge, his mouth and fingers working you through it in tandem. 

You exploded, white bursting behind your eyelids until you were boneless, unable to do anything but ride out your orgasm at the will of the man in front of you. Changkyun made sure to taste every drop of your release, slowly sliding his hand away from you only to quickly replace it with his tongue to lap at you until you were shoving him away. 

You wanted to make him feel as good as you did in that moment, wanted to return the favor, so you pushed him off of you and onto his back, switching positions to settle between his legs.

Hands tugging at his boxer briefs, Changkyun complied to your silent request, lifting his hips until you could drag them off. You were quick to palm his erection in your hand and squeeze, relishing in the hiss he rewarded you with, your thighs squeezing together. 

“Please,” he groaned, and fuck did he beg so prettily. “I just want to be inside you already, let me be inside you, yeah?”

Teasing the head of his cock with your lips, you hummed, playing as if you were considering his words. The truth was, having a beautiful man like him pleading you for anything was your kryptonite, and you would give him anything he asked for as long as he sounded like that.

Taking a final swipe of your tongue over his sensitive flesh, you gave him a smirk, moving until you straddled him, hovering for just a moment. Grasping his length, you line him up with your dripping cunt, sinking onto him slowly, tortuously. 

You may be giving him what he had asked for, but only because you wanted to, because you had deemed it aligned with your desires. Changkyun gave you full control over your pleasure, and you took it greedily. 

Once fully seated, you moaned, hips beginning to undulate and swirl against his. Pressing your palms into his chest, you began to work yourself over him, sliding back and forth until you were panting, thighs burning. 

His eyes searched yours, waiting for permission before he did anything more than take what you were giving him. “Fuck me, Changkyun,” you gasped, voice teetering into a whine. “Wanna come on your cock.”

Changkyun didn’t need to be told twice, didn’t need any more instruction before he was thrusting up into you, pelvis meeting yours. His hands tugged you down until your chest was flush with his own, his mouth seeking yours and coaxing it into a filthy kiss. 

“Fuck, yes, please come on my cock,” he rasped against your lips, his pupils blown as they make contact with yours. His gaze was intense, searing, but you couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. You wanted to be engulfed; consumed by him. “Use me, baby.”

Slamming down onto him, your pace began to turn frantic as he matched you thrust for thrust, each connection against your tender clit sending you further into oblivion. 

“You feel so good, Kyun,” you praised him, adjusting until your face was pressed to his neck. “So good for me, so perfect.” 

His answering moan reverberated in your chest, his arms tightening around you as his pace turned punishing, and it drove you crazy how something as simple as your words has him frenzied, falling apart beneath you.

Drunk on the power, you felt yourself hurtling towards your climax, nails digging into the skin on his back as he relentlessly slammed up into you. “Fuck, yes,” you cried, letting yourself go, giving in until you were over the edge, orgasm overtaking your senses. 

It was too much for Changkyun; the way your scent was all around him, intoxicating him, the way you were moaning curses and his name, the way you were clenching so fucking tightly against his cock. Before he could stop himself he was chasing his high right alongside you, shuddering as he pumped his release deep, unable to still his hips even when you were mewling from the sensitivity. 

Panting heavily against each other, you had tried to pull away only for Changkyun to roll you beneath him, pinning you under his weight. He was still fully lodged inside you, face nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your still sweaty-from-sex skin. 

“What are you doing, Kyun?” you chuffed, making a feeble attempt to lift his weight before letting him resettle against you. It was all for show, the response he expected from you. The truth was  you didn’t mind it - the feeling of him still inside you, the familiarity of his lips on your skin, the intimacy of it all - you didn’t mind it if it was with him. 

“Just let me hold you like this for a bit, hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, and you hummed your agreement, letting your eyes fall closed. He pressed a few lazy kisses to your throat before his breathing became measured, even, and you decided joining him in slumber wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Promise me,” you murmured, voice thick and lazy. You were still naked and draped across his chest, listening to the calming beat of his heart. You had already woken and showered, deciding that clothes weren’t necessary before jumping back into bed together. That was several hours ago now. The smoke coming from his cigarette was curling up towards the ceiling, leaving a dreamy haze in the room. 

“I’d promise you anything,” he replied quickly, taking a drag, “but what specifically am I promising you this time, sweetheart?” 

“No more going to Kihyun’s high roller floors, Kyun. I know the pots are bigger, but you don’t know those men at those tables - not like I do.” You paused then, taking a shaky inhale. 

Being in your line of work, you were no stranger to dangerous men, however you purposefully stayed away from serving on those floors of the lounge for a reason. Those men were the worst of the worst, and even if they weren’t, they rubbed elbows and served those who were. Either way, the money may be sweet, but the risk wasn’t worth it. You made better than you ever had at the lounge with the sections you served,  and that was fine with you. 

But Changkyun had always wanted more. 

Ever since you had told him about your lofty dreams - the ones that you had saved for yourself in the darkest parts of the night, when your mind was racing and you couldn’t sleep - he hadn’t let them go. Truthfully, you always loved the idea of retiring your waitressing shoes and being able to finally write full time, working on the novel you’ve been imagining for years in some quiet home somewhere, tucked away from the world. But it broke you to see Changkyun willing to risk his life to see it come true by hanging around that crowd, placing higher and higher bets at Yvonne’s most hazardous tables. 

It was strange for you to accept that he would even want to do this for you, to support you in this way, but he always knew how to soothe those concerns, promising you that he genuinely wanted to care for you before gently ribbing you to stop being so damn stubborn. 

However, it was his stubbornness that had been creating a wedge between you. 

“They’re bad people, Changkyun. And I don’t mean like - scamming old ladies for their pension money bad, either. I mean like extremely shady dealings with people who are involved with things that would get them sent to prison, bad.” 

His free hand fell to your head then, smoothing your hair back as he took another puff of his cigarette. 

“I know they are. I’m only just polite enough for the rules of the game, I never engage with them more than that. I’m not there for friends or connections, just the money.” He took a final pull before dropping the spent butt in the ashtray on the bedside table, his other hand moving to rest over the one you had placed on his heart.

“I get that, but it doesn’t take much to get on their bad side. It could be the slightest thing. Sometimes, just winning is all it takes.” 

He sighed, but let the silence linger, instead letting himself get lost in stroking your hair softly. You were about to say something again, to make sure he had heard you, when he finally spoke. 

“I just want to take care of you, you know?” His voice was low, thick with emotion, though he tried to swallow it back. “Give you what you deserve.” 

That pain came back, the one deep in your chest, and you sat up to face him. “I know that. But I already have everything that I need, right here.” 

You tap his chest once, twice - his hand still firmly resting on top of your own. 

He met your gaze, giving you a small, cocky smirk, as if his eyes weren’t shiny with unshed tears. “What, you mean this hot body?” 

You scoffed, eyes rolling. Maybe you should’ve called him out on his side stepping, forcing him to vocalize that look he had been giving you, but instead you fell back into step with your teasing. It was, after all, the familiar dance between you two. 

“No, stupid. I meant you - you’re all I need. The rest of this shit is just noise.” 

“I bet I can make you make some noise–”

“Changkyun–”

“Okay okay,” he laughed as your soft touch turned into pointed jabs into his chest, sitting up to wrap his arms around you and stop your onslaught. “I hear you, sweetheart. You’re right. I’ll stay away,” he said, pulling you up and back until you’re leaning against his chest, arms still wrapped tight around you.

“Promise me?” This time when you say it, you made sure your eyes were locked on his, made sure the fear you felt was evident behind the words. 

“I promise.” 

It felt like a sign from the universe. Well, either that, or a promise from the devil.

But sometimes, those can look the same. 

The posting for Kihyun’s upcoming game had just gone up, but it was already making the rounds. Games like these were advertised in a certain way - you had to know where to find it in order to play, and the regular gamblers all knew the common message boards to keep an eye on. Changkyun hadn’t been looking for it, wasn’t even checking the forums anymore – but had gotten a text about it from Joohoney, a screenshot of the flyer accompanying his message of “Bro, did you see this shit??” 

A high stakes game, in two nights. The winning pot large enough that he would be able to retire you permanently, and he wouldn’t be too far behind you, honestly. You were already off work that night, plans in place for a girls night with Kat and a few of the other servers, so you wouldn’t be at Yvonne’s. 

It would just be one last time.

One last game, and with enough luck, he could finally give you the life that you’ve always wanted, provide for you in the way a man should.  Sure, you wouldn’t like it – the idea of him going to the tables again –  but that was only if you found out, and the chances of that were slim.

He could win the money and set it aside, give himself a week or two of regular games to make it seem a bit more feasible. A few days of being off your feet and back on your laptop would have you forgetting about work anyway, and the top floor of Yvonne’s would fade quickly away from your memory. 

It had to be a sign. He could do it, could pull it off, could be the man that you deserve. 

His fingers hovered over his phone, the reply ready to be sent to Joohoney. It would be just as easy to delete it, to tell him that he’s done with that shit. To text his best friend back and tell him that he can’t, because he told you he would walk away and stay away from those men. Joohoney might give him some shit, but he would understand, likely wouldn’t push the matter. 

But the money…

It didn’t take long for Changkyun to do the math; it would take months at the regular tables to get this kind of money, and that’s only if he kept winning. Which didn’t seem like long in the grand scheme of things, but when he thought of how your eyes lit up at the idea of writing full time, made it seem like it was centuries. 

You wouldn’t have to know. It would just be one last time. 

He pressed send on the text, foot tapping nervously until he saw the read receipt pop up under his message. 

“I’m in - one last game.”

You were mad at him again, but your friends didn’t need to know that. 

All they needed to know was that you were in the mood for a girls night out, and if they knew what was good for them, they’d be there in their sluttiest outfit ready to indulge with you. 

However, it only took you ordering the second round of shots to have Bri’s questioning stare fixed on your own.

“So, what did he do this time?” she deadpanned, sipping from her straw. 

“What? Who? I don’t know what you speak of,” you replied. “I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” 

“Sure, okay,” Kat nodded, giving a convincing performance of someone who actually believed your nonsense. “If he didn’t do anything, then why isn’t he here, buying us all drinks?”

She had you there. Changkyun was always wanting to show up on your nights out – not to crash them, but so that you and your friends could enjoy your time without having to worry about a single thing. He covered the tabs, made sure everyone was having fun, and ensured each person got home safely – all while staying tucked away at a nearby table until you needed him, never putting too much pressure on you. 

It had pissed you off the first time he had suggested it, but after he showed you what he meant, showed you how he could be supportive in the shadows while still letting you shine, you had slowly given in. Part of you loved being able to enjoy yourself with your friends while knowing he was always looking out, even if he wasn’t directly visible. 

“Maybe he’s busy.”

Twin glares pinned you to your seat, and you allowed several beats of the bass blaring in the speakers to pass before caving. 

“Okay, fine, yes. We’re having a slight disagreement,” you conceded with a sniff, “over something that happened at work.”

“Wait a minute - is this about what happened with Vanda?” Kat questioned, mentioning the newest server at the lounge. She had only started a few weeks prior, but had been making a lot of work for you - constantly acting like she knew what she was doing in front of management, only to flounder and follow you and the senior staff around asking a million questions the minute they weren’t on the floor. 

It wasn’t her confidence in her lacking serving skills that had bothered you, not really. It was more so how the minute she did get called out on a mistake, she was quick to try to throw you and your friends - the same people who had just been helping her ass - under the bus. 

You had told Changkyun about an incident earlier in the week of this exact scenario – she was flirting with another customer instead of checking on the tables in her section, and a patron of hers ended up getting up to go to the bar to order a drink. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal, mistakes happen after all, except she had immediately told the manager on duty that you had promised to cover that table. Which was news to you.

“Are you serious? After all the help you’ve given her?” Changkyun had shook his head, irritation evident in his voice. “Did you tell the manager the truth? Who was on?”

You had smothered a smile at the question, trying and failing to hide how much you loved him wanting to know more about your life. 

“It was Amy, and yeah, I told her. She believed me, but still. I don’t get it, I’ve never done anything to that girl.”

“Want me to show up to Yvonne’s and request her section with the guys, give her some shit? You know how annoying I can be when I want to,” he offered, brows raised in a teasing lilt, but you could tell by the line of his mouth that he meant it. 

“Yes, I do know how truly annoying you can be. It’s almost like a super power.”

He grinned then, a full one, and you wanted to kiss his stupid mouth. 

“But no, it’s fine. I got this. I know how to handle people like this, and having anyone else fight the battle for me will only make her more bold about it.” This wasn’t your first rodeo, after all - you had been serving a long time, and doing luxury serving at Yvonne’s for even longer than Vanda had been out of diapers. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was handle people. 

But did Changkyun listen to you?

Well no, of course not. 

He did exactly as he had threatened - showed up the following day with his full group of rowdy friends, sitting in her section and dedicated to being the most obnoxious people Vanda dealt with all night. They didn’t do anything harassing or illegal, just toed the line of being pretentious drunk pricks gambling and drinking – sending back drinks for being made incorrectly, asking for complicated cocktails and shots, requesting a rundown of the entire menu before telling her they were no longer hungry.

Kat and Bri had found it hilarious, stating that your boyfriend’s malicious compliance of the rules while still making Vanda run around so much she was pouring sweat was truly an artform. And there was a tiny piece of you, deep in your soul, that was pleased at the lengths he was willing to go for you. 

But you were also pissed, because you had been exactly right. It did nothing to stop Vanda from sending bullshit your way; if anything, it had spurred her on, the following shift of yours even more annoying and mind numbing after hours of her questions and subtle sabotage.  

“Yes, it’s about what happened with Vanda! I told him to let me handle it, and he didn’t listen. I know he meant well, I get that, but still. He didn’t listen.” You had known his heart was in the right place - you hadn’t questioned that. But it didn’t negate the fact that it made you feel so small when he didn’t listen to your requests. 

“I thought that was hilarious,” Bri said, arm reaching out for another shot glass. She had one already prepped in front of her, but preferred taking her shots two at a time. “But I get it. Vanda’s been worse since.”

“I can handle Vanda, I don’t really care about that. But it feels like our fights are usually because he just doesn’t listen to what I’m telling him. It’s like he thinks he knows better than me.” 

Deep down, you know he didn’t mean it in this way, but it was like he didn’t trust you - your judgment, your read on the situation, whatever it is – and that hurt, especially when you had worked so hard to open up that piece of yourself to him. 

“And I know that I’m not always right, and it’s not like I don’t want to hear his opinions, but I don’t like the choice being taken from me. Or worse, dangled in front of me like he’s going to consider my feelings, only to have him do whatever.” 

Downing her two shots in rapid succession, Bri shook her head, reaching for her chaser before speaking. “I think that’s part of the problem, he thinks he is considering your feelings. He thinks he’s standing up for you and fighting for you. He thinks he’s taking some of that burden off your plate.” 

“I don’t need, I mean, I don’t-”

“When is the last time you let anyone fight a battle for you?” Kat interrupted, elbows leaning on the table to make direct eye contact with you. “You tell everyone that you got it, that you can handle it. And we’ve seen you do it, so it’s not that we don’t believe you. But sometimes, we want to help you, for no other reason than we love you. And we can.” 

The direct read into your defenses had your throat tightening, and you blinked back the tears that threatened to form and ruin your makeup. 

“He should listen and take your feelings into consideration, absolutely,” Kat continued, voice gentle, “but also, you should let him support you and help more. I think if you let him be there for you in smaller ways, he wouldn’t feel the need to be the knight in shining armor so much.” 

There was a lot of wisdom in your friend's words, and you had taken a moment of silence to chew on it, to let it sink in. 

“He really loves you, you know that, right? So stop being a dumb bitch about it,” Bri deadpanned, but her expression was soft, “and let him love you. And you know I say that with affection.”

“I know,” you said, nodding at your friends. As much as it wasn’t easy to admit, they had a point, which also meant that maybe Changkyun did, as well. “Thank you both, seriously.” 

It had only taken one text message, a quick “This tab isn’t going to pay itself” with a kissing emoji to have him showing up at the bar, settling into a table a few down from your own with a wink and a sly smirk, where he proceeded to wait out the evening, taking care of you and your friends as always when the time came. 

“I’m still annoyed with you,” you had panted against his mouth when you got home, letting him push you up against the wall and cage you in with his arms. He was on you like a starved man, and it had made your buzz intensify, making you drunk on him, his kiss. 

“Of course, I understand,” he mumbled, words barely intelligible in the urgency of his lips. 

You had to fight to pull away, using one hand on the base of his throat to push him back for a moment to catch your breath. 

“But, also, thank you. For what you did with Vanda. And for always wanting to protect me.”

If Changkyun noticed how soft your voice got, he didn’t say anything, instead leaning down to press his forehead against yours. You could tell he was going to say something – probably something devastatingly sweet – and you needed to finish what you were going to say, before the bravery lost you. 

“I’m not used to having someone who wants to fight with me, or for me, you know.” 

“I know,” he replied in a rush, like he had already known your confession, knew what you were going to say long before the words had formed.  “I know, and I also shouldn’t be an ass and push all the time. But I will always protect you, yeah?” 

Nodding, you fought back tears for the second time that evening, but this time you didn’t shy away from letting him see the emotion in your face. 

“You’re mine, and I will always fight for you, sweetheart.” 

This time when he kissed you, it was slow, purposeful, heated. Like he was going to  make sure you felt and wanted for nothing other than him, his touch, and that you could allow yourself to fall into him forever and would always have a safe place to land. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, to be vulnerable with someone, to let them in, if you could feel like this. 

Or maybe it wasn’t so bad, only because it was Changkyun. 

Tonight was the night, and everything was in place.

So why did Changkyun feel a ball of anxiety forming in the base of his gut?

Everything had been going according to the plan so far, not that there was much of a plan for any of this. It mostly relied on you and your friends being away from Yvonne’s for the night, which was easy enough since you were all off on the same evening. A rarity that you all were going to take advantage of, and had planned for movie night with drinks and sushi take out over at Kat’s place, an event that was common enough that Changkyun knew it usually ended in a sleepover. 

He had dropped you off an hour prior, kissing you gently and shouting a greeting down the hall to the girls before heading back to the car, ignoring the feeling of guilt roiling in his stomach. He had just kept reminding himself that he was doing this for you, doing this so he could support you and give you the life that you deserved. 

It was one last time, one last game. 

But that pit didn’t dissipate as the evening went on, not even when he met with Joohoney who had insisted he take a shot when they arrived at Yvonne’s to help with his nerves. It had burned his esophagus, blurring the edges of his tension a bit, enough that he felt confident walking through the lounge next to his friend.. 

“You good?” Joohoney asked, slapping a hand on his shoulder. 

Changkyun nodded. “Yeah, just really wanna win some money, you know?” 

Joohoney had given him an understanding grin before guiding him past the tables in the lower section of Yvonne’s towards the stairs leading up to the high roller tables. 

“It's our lucky night, Kyun,” Joohoney said, pausing in front of the door leading to where the game was about to begin. Through the heavily frosted glass, Changkyun could see several bodies already seated at the few VIP tables, and he felt his pulse spike.  “We’re going to win.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The sleepover at Kat’s had been just the reset you needed. 

A night of screaming at the television, drinking cocktails and eating your bodyweight in sushi with your friends was healing in more ways than one, and you had left the next morning feeling lighter and more content than you remembered in a while. 

 It was surprising to find your apartment dark and quiet when you returned, as you had assumed Changkyun would be there waiting for you, like he always was. You had given him a key long ago, figuring there was no point in pretending like he didn’t spend all of his free time glued to your side, but not fully ready to give up the independence of living alone quite yet. 

Sending him a quick text, you let him know that you’re home and about to catch up on sleep before your shift later. He replies quickly that he had fallen asleep at his place after a late night with Joohoney, but that he would be there once you got off work. 

Nothing had felt out of the ordinary, and you felt energized enough from your nap to get ready quickly, getting to work much earlier than you normally would for a shift.

You should’ve known something was up the minute you walked into work and saw that Vanda had a shit eating grin on her face.

She kept sneaking side glances, watching you with a scrutiny that made you uneasy. She’s normally more obvious in her attempts to annoy you, and her passive aggressiveness is setting your teeth on edge. 

After the third glare and giggle on your way to drop off more drinks, you decide you’re going to confront her and ask her what her deal is, when she beats you to it.

“Did you have fun last night?” Vanda questions, a stupid smirk on her face. 

“Why do you care?”

“Seemed like Changkyun did,” she continued, like you hadn’t asked a question. Your stomach dropped.

Raising a brow, you wait for her to go on, not wanting to give her any more satisfaction. She clearly knew something that you didn’t, and she was already well aware of that fact. 

“How much did he actually end up winning last night? I mean, him and Joohoney were upstairs until last call, and he seemed pretty happy when he left.”

Instantly, your throat tightens, unease now unfurled into full blown anxiety. He was here last night? If he was here last night, and with Joohoney upstairs, no less…

“I didn’t manage to hear how much he won, just that Changkyun shouldn’t worry, because you would never find out.”

It was enough. You had heard enough. 

It was surprising how quickly you switched into autopilot, spinning on your heel and striding out of the room before your throat tightens, before your vision fully blurs. Vanda says something more behind you, a lilt of concern in her voice, but you can’t hear her, not anymore. 

 Your mind quiets as your body takes control, moving you to find your manager to tell her that you need to leave, before grabbing your purse and coat, and leaving the lounge. Turning towards your apartment, your rage fuels your step, gut churning with the betrayal of knowing the only reason why Changkyun would be upstairs at Yvonne’s last night, why he would be leaving looking so pleased with himself. 

The wind bit at your face, chapping your lips,  but you didn’t care; needing the night air in your lungs and for the anger to be burned out in your movement before seeing him. 

Because once you walked out your anger and faced the betrayal, you would need to deal with the deep seated fear for Changkyun’s safety, and how the hell you would be able to protect him now. 

Changkyun wasn’t expecting you so early when you barged into the apartment, and the mix of confusion and excitement quickly bled away once he saw the look on your face. 

He strides towards you, grabbing your shoulders, concern knitting his brow. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Blinking, you allow yourself a moment to stare at him, to drink in his full mouth and stupid handsome face, before you swallow around the knot in your throat. 

“Tell me it isn’t true, Changkyun.” 

You hate how your voice sounds; weak and strained and like you’re just bone deep tired, defeated. Maybe you are. 

“What are you talk-”

“Tell me that you weren’t upstairs at Yvonne’s last night,” you sigh, irritated with the ruse. “Tell me that you didn’t go and do the exact thing that you promised me you wouldn’t, and that I didn’t have to find out from fucking Vanda, of all people.”

Pulling away, you slide from his grasp, tucking your arms around your middle so that you wouldn’t be tempted to reach back out for him. It was tortuous, how much you want to reach for him, even when your heart is breaking. 

“Sweetheart, I just- it was just going to be one last time, one last game. The pot was too good, it was enough to get you set up, so you could quit,” he lets the sentence hang, almost waiting for you to interrupt, but when you stay silent, he continues. “Joohoney made sure everything was good, and we won just enough to get what we needed, not enough to rock too many boats. I had it under control.” 

Closing your eyes, you let the last sentence settle around your shoulders like a heavy weight, the same old feelings bubbling up. “It wasn’t about you being in control or not, Changkyun. It was about listening to me, actually listening to me. You promised.”

It was on the last word that you broke, that the tears started to fall, and for once you didn’t turn away, wanting him to see. 

“You promised me you would stay away, and then you didn’t. You hid it. You thought you knew what was best for me, instead of just listening to me.” 

Pain laces Changkyun’s face as he takes a step towards you, only pausing when you take an equal step backwards. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I know better, I just-”

“Please leave. I’m done.” Your voice is low but measured, certain. 

“Baby, please, let me just explain, and- and-”

“I don’t want to hear an explanation. I want you to leave.” Tears continue to fall, but you don’t drop his stare, willing him to understand just how serious this all is, how serious you are. 

He wants to fight it, wants to say more, but something in your eyes must convince him, because he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he moves back to the couch, grabbing his coat and phone, before making his way to the door. His gaze is mournful as he gives you one last look, lingering, before shutting the door behind him. 

You aren’t sure how long you stand there, unmoving, before the autopilot kicks back into gear, forcing your limbs to move. Heading towards your room, you place your phone on the charger before you curl into your bed, surrounding yourself with the blankets and the lingering scent of Changkyun. 

And then you let yourself break down. 

Changkyun was drunk. Too drunk. 

He shouldn’t have taken that last shot, especially not after that last drink from the bar. It was too much, but fuck it. Who cares?

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” he mumbles to himself, not caring how crazy he looks. He wishes someone would just give him some direction, tell him what he would need to do in order to fix this. 

He didn’t listen. He never listens. 

And now he’s lost the only good thing he’s ever fucking had, the only reason he got up each morning and what’s the point, if you’re gone? 

Fuck. Fuck. 

Sliding down low in the booth, he lets his head hang, the whisky glass precariously dangling in his hand. His body felt so heavy, so numb, and yet the anguish deep in his chest only worsened, throbbed along to music blaring in the club. 

If only he could apologize, he’d beg for mercy, he’d promise he’d never fuck up like this ever again. Explain how you were right - how he doesn’t need the money, or any of that shit, as long as he had you. 

He needs you.

His heart is in a vice grip, squeezing so tightly that he thinks he might explode from his body, his skin, until he’s nothing but red.

Pain suddenly licks up Changkyun’s palm, and he looks down to see the glass cup gone. In its place are thousands of tiny shards, twinkling in the dim club lights, reflecting everything back to him. More red, but this time welling in his palm, pooling in the deep lines of the skin. 

“What the fuck, are you alright dude?” 

Changkyun thinks it’s Joohoney who asks him, or maybe it’s Hyungwon? It doesn’t matter either way, because it’s not you.  

He goes to stand, to ask for a bandage or a rag or something, but instead his vision blurs, the room spinning. And then he’s flat on his back, blinking up at the cacophony of lights, faces coming in and out of focus, but not the one he needs, not the one he’s looking for. 

He can faintly hear his friends talking to him, feel them digging in his pockets for his phone, but he can’t be present anymore. It’s too torturous, too heavy. Much easier to close his eyes, to think about your face. To let himself get lost forever. 

He’s happy to die here on the floor of this stupid club, imagining your smile, your laugh, your lips as you say his name.

Changkyun just wants to take care of you, just wants to give you everything that you deserve. How can he do that if he’s here? If he can’t listen? 

He lets the darkness swallow him.

Changkyun isn’t sure where he is. 

He feels like he got hit by a truck, his head specifically feeling like it had been trampled on, though it’s his right palm that's aching in time to his pulse. 

Without moving, he opens his eyes slowly, trying to take in his surroundings. It’s dark, wherever he is, and his head is propped on a pillow, body stretched out on a couch. He can see a small trash can directly in front of him, as if whomever brought him here wasn’t sure if he’d be capable of finding a bathroom if the contents of his stomach decided to make a reappearance, and he groans.

Fingers swipe through his hair, easing the pounding in his skull by a fraction.

“Hi, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Changkyun thinks he has to still be sleeping, must be having a very good dream if it’s your voice he’s hearing, your scent he’s inhaling as he settles onto the pillow. He smiles to himself, not wanting to speak and having the dream fade too soon. 

“Changkyun? Are you going to answer me?” This time, you peer over him, leaning down to stroke his face. You let your fingers linger briefly on his cheekbone before lightly touching his lips.

His eyes snap open. 

“Is this real?” He asks, voice hoarse, gaze searching your own. He doesn’t feel strong enough to sit up quite yet, but you don’t seem to want to make him, either. “Are you really here?”

“Technically, you’re here at my place, but yes, it’s real.” You reply, your nails sliding back up to his hair to give his scalp a soothing scratch.

He swallows as he stares at you, as he drinks in the tenderness in your eyes that he thought he wouldn’t get a chance to see again. It took him a moment before he recognized your apartment in the dim light, and another more before realizing the pillow he’s laying on is settled in your lap. 

Even knowing that this was real, that you truly let him back in, he was still too scared to speak, not wanting to scare you off. Not wanting the moment to end. 

When he finally gathered enough courage, he cleared his throat.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. I don’t listen. I hear what you say, and then just act like an ass who thinks he knows everything.” Changkyun swallows thickly. “The only thing I do know is that you’re my everything. You’re all I need. Please, don’t give up on me yet.”

His pleas make your eyes well, and you force yourself to take an even inhale before speaking. 

You want to tell him that you couldn’t give him up, that you had tried because you knew it would be easier in the long run, but your heart wouldn’t allow it. You want to say that you had regretted telling him to leave the moment the words left your lips, that you hadn’t meant them. You want to say that you were just so tired of not being heard, of people making decisions for you.

Instead, you roll your eyes playfully. “Now why would I do that, after all the trouble I went through to patch up your hand while you were black out?”

You will tell him those things, but later. When the sting of last night had faded a bit from both of your memories, and the impact intended can land. 

He gives you a small grin, meeting your gaze. His hand - the bandaged one - raises slowly, tentatively, until it’s cupping your cheek.

“I just wanted to give you the world,” Changkyun murmurs, almost reverently. “I will give you the world, the right way. It might take me longer, but I will.”

His words soften you more, and you reach for his other hand, pulling him up until he’s facing you. He’s slow to move, the onset of a hangover taking hold, but eventually he settles sitting upright, eyes still intense on your own. 

He  is always trying to take care of you, trying to lessen your burdens. You know you’re not the best at accepting the help, but dammit, you were trying. For him. And he was trying for you, too. 

You lean forward until your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling. 

“I already have it, stupid.”

He kisses you then, a gentle press of lips that quickly builds, as everything always does with him. A push and a pull. Changkyun leans away slightly,  grins against your mouth. “I’m an idiot, but you already knew that.”

“You’re my idiot. The rest is just noise.”

[cerberus-new-owner]

WHOOOOOO week late birthday present to me from me

thank you me

your very welcome me

did i speed write like over half of this like 4 minutes ago (as im editing this and adding the intro on tumblr) yes, yes i did

But anywaysssss onto the cw

CW: like none (i hope), gn mc, mc and the characters relationships can be taken as platonic or romantic, fluffffff

Lucifer

the same pen every year but, its not just him stealing it from mc's room to rewarp it he has a box full of the exact same pens if one of them has a slight defect he will write a letter to the company that made the pens and send the damaged pen with it (mc shouldn't mention the fact that they've gotten the exact same pen from him four years in a row his pride will be hurt and he will just start engraving their name into the pens never know he may eventually switch it up and put a cute little nickname or something on the pen instead of just 'mc'), either that or he listens very closely and pays attention to what mc might need throught the year need a new desk at some point cause satan broke theirs placing a book down consider it bought mc dropped their bag in a puddle and need a new laptop it's theirs. sadly though he will only get them things that are practical hat they say they need so no jewlery or devices you already have that work fine unless mc can come up with a good excuse as to why the latest tech is needed for studying, there is the odd chance he may get them a bottle of demonus thinking 'they seem to like the taste of it even if it doesn't affect them' (doesn't matter what he gets mc the pens will always be given to them as a fun little bonus prize)

Mammon

anything and everything mc has even looked at for more than half a second is now in their room they mentioned a certain idk (whats something a half sane sheep that has to babysit like 9 demons 2 angels and a sorcerer on daily basis look at in a store oh well) mc mentions something they saw the other day that caught their eye his broke ass is looking for the cheapest deal he can find (or most expensive depends on if he has goldie or not) and buying it

Satan

like lucifer mans will think practical things and like himself he thinks books are the most practical things of all of course cats are fairly high on his list of practical things (they are a must have unless you're allergic to them if you're allergic to them im sorry cats cause you pain, then again they cause most people pain tiny little fluffy a holes that i love continuing) he will be bothering mc about their choice in books asking alot of questions along the lines of 'what genre are you most into' 'mc whos your favourite author' 'fiction or non-fiction' all in attempt to figure out what mc likes if mc isn't really into books and is into idk sports or gardening something like that he will search endlessly to find an interesting book to give mc on one of their hobbies and if they don't like the book he can always "borrow" them to learn more about mc's likes and hobbies

Asmodeus

feel like this is a no brainer but some kind of spa day or outfit (wait new headcannon alert what if he knows how to sew and occasionally makes clothes for himself for y'know when theres nothing new in fashion or theres an important event he cant find anything fabulous to wear but occasionally being the keyword he probably uses most of his talent fixing rips in satan shirts from satans outbursts) anyways... he will spend an entire day fawning over mc he will make sure they dont lift a finger god forbid they get a papercut from wrapping paper or worry lines from stressing about how tf they're supposed to sleep when mammons filled their room with gifts

Feel like because of this i should do how they wrap the gifts so this goes for Christmas / any other holidays too so bonusss (this is also who would remember to include a card)

lucifer

plain colour probably in mcs favourite colour no ribbon or anything fancy just plain [insert favourite colour] wrapping paper, he takes pride in wrapping his gifts neatly (he's wrapped the same pen for several years straight he has had practice) he gets a card for mc like the presents wrapping the outside is a plain colour with words relating to whatever celebration it is with either the dryest shit ever written on the inside or the most sappy shit depends on his relationship with mc if its the latter option though we will only give mc the card in private knowing exactly how his brothers would react

mammon

he uses the christmas wrapping paper from two years ago that everyone forgot they had until he called out 'anyone gonna use this wrapping paper i found in the closet' to satan replying 'you know thats christmas wrapping paper right' and mammon taking satan answer as a go ahead to use it, he'd do his best to wrap any gifts he got mc he looks up a tutorial and everything and 100% is proud of his work not matter how messy it looks, if anyone chooses to mention how messily it's wrapped he will say its part of the suspense he will use ribbons and bows to add extra effect

he forgets about aa card entirely

leviathan

ruri-chan wrapping paper wrapped as neatly as possible so the little images line up on every side as perfectly as possible he will spend hours trying to get the folds just right so the images line up nothing fancy like ribbons or bows he'd feel bad if he covered one of the characters so he doesn't bother with it

he panicked about what to write in the card so he gave up deciding that having a marathon with mc was way more important than writing his feelings onto a card

satan

cat wrapping paper or wrapping paper that looks like pages from books he makes any gifts he's wrapped look pretty (just like the pretty boy he is whosaidthat/j) he wraps the gift neatly and puts a little bow on it before writing a heartfelt card and using a little bit of tape to attach it to the wrapped box

asmodeus

picks out the prettiest wrapping paper he can find even if he's just wrapping a card that says "Spa Day!" he is wrapping it neatly with utmost care

he chooses a card based on mc's likes and hobbies of course making sure it's bedazzled and as pretty as possible

beelzebub

two layers of wrapping paper he found one that had images of food on it but halfway through wrapping mc's gift with it he took a bite out of the wrapping paper so he changed wrapping paper to a plain one so he would be somewhat less tempted to eat it

he gets mc a card and starts to write something in it before the writing stops mid word and theres a bunch of crumbs from him eating something forgetting to finish the card and giving it to mc anyways

belphegor

clouds it's very nicely wrapped because he probably went to one of those 'we wrap the presents for you' places and paid them the only part he did himself was the card and he put a tiny bit of effort into it until the writing gets smudged and messy and is that a bit of drool he fell asleep midway through writing oh well guess he better nap with mc to make up for falling asleep

omg what will i do nowwww guess what

boom

double bonus cause i said so

Barbatosss

tea party, tea party, tea party (i like tea) he will invite mc to the castle not only does this mean he gets to celebrate diavolo also gets to celebrate mc's birthday (like diavolo wasn't the one to suggest it, barbatos just anticipated dia asking to invite them over) barbatos will cook mc food from the human realm majority of it being things he heard them say they liked or missed from the human realm occasionally he might throw in a devidom ingredient or two to enhance somethings flavour or to add a fun little surprise (maybe he throws in something to change the colour of their fur for a few minutes who knows) as for the acctual gift part he probably gets mc something small to remind them of him or something practical he's not lucifer when it comes to gifts and may look into the future to see if theres anything mc will need in the near future like maybe their bag is gonna break in the next two weeks and they'll need a new one just so happen barbs gave them a new bag for their birhday the week before perfect

he wraps gifts by himself with a plain wrapping paper of mcs favourite colour and by far out of everyone wraps them the nicest he's lived for a millennia he's had practice wrapping gifts when it comes to writing a card for them he does his best to make it heartfelt and meaningful

soooooo tadaaa i've finished unless people want the others (by people i mean if i were in theory to gain motivation to write for the rest of the characters)

i hope people enjoyed this have a good day, night, brunch, apple, pen (pineapple apple pen)

follow the leader, the leader, the leader, follow the leader right to the masterlist

dangnabit his means im old now too

[joysmercer]

okay I’m so curious about the short fic you posted yesterday

can I ask how in this universe nina dies? And does eddie too?

(it’s mask of anubis on main btw)

ooh fun questions!! i was hoping someone would ask cuz i couldn't figure out how to work it in. also i added way too much info that you didnt ask for so now it's under the cut :D

first of all, this au is a much darker take on how i think nina's life "actually" played out – I think she'll always have random spirits coming up to her etc, but in this au, it's pretty constant and can get very dangerous very quickly. on the flip side, she sees a lot more fame for her "irl" work than she does "in canon" (see below).

somewhat ironically (given how guarded nina becomes from the constant barrage of gods forcing her to do things), she makes her living off of writing movies about her experiences. i think she does this in canon too, but here she really throws herself into it, almost like a form of therapy since there isn't really any professional she can process things with, you know? she eats, sleeps, breathes her craft – whenever she has downtime, she's writing, editing, networking to get her words out there. she's so fast and so talented with it that she graduates university in three years with honors, by which time the chosen one (season 1) has already been picked up by a major company and has started filming; she wins her first oscar two years later, and the next two each year after that.

(actually, all four scripts got picked up at the same time, which is why the turnaround was so quick – but they didn't announce the sequels until after the oscars because at that point she was a relatively unknown person)

(also i know this isn't how these things work irl but just work with me here. maybe she called in a favor from a random god and had things sped along idk)

anyway, the point im trying to make is that she spends her whole life balancing what she wants to do (her work) with what she has to do (paragon shit) and has a weird sense of self-worth as a result (she knows she's good at what she does, but wants to hide it from the world at the same time (out of fear). she hates that she needs others to keep her safe and refuses to believe they're doing it out of kindness, even though she also knows that they genuinely love her. it's weird) (also she and fabian make up sometime during their uni years so all is good there)

anyway, they (amber + KT) set up a rota of all ex-sibuna members (+ willow as she learns about it pretty quickly post-grad) to spend time in the states for a couple months out of the year each. this essentially made sure there was always 1 other person on the mission with her and 2 people nearby who knew where they were going, should things go wrong and they need rescuing or something. but for small/random tasks, nina would just do those alone.

her last mission (that fabian alludes to) had taken months to complete: three formerly-benign ghosts had been "turned" by a magician up in canada, released from the underworld, and, driven mad by the magic (and confusion of being back in the real world), had started a series of freak thunderstorms across the american midwest. together with jerome, she had to figure out how they got released, stop the magician, construct the device necessary to trap the spirits and send them back, and use said device to stop the storms. the effort had completely exhausted her (so much so that she – making headlines – decided to take a step back on touchstone production, instead of hanging out on set like she did for the other three)

(that's why tor is the way it is. with her dropping off of the face of the earth, someone decided – while she couldn't argue against it – to absolutely slash the budget, which lead to a mess of a story (screenplay is the only oscar it wins)

nina's death (as alluded to in the article) really seemed out-of-the-blue. basically, she was on a mission – alone – that suddenly and very unexpectedly turned dangerous. but when she was found (by KT and amber together) it looked like she just collapsed at home – there was no indication of any foul play or anything, really, of how she died.

also alluded to in the article, but a lot (but not all) of KT's "investigative journaling" was her covering up the consequences of nina's missions with theories that would make sense to the general public. nina's last request of her was to halt any investigation into her death prematurely as she knew things would unravel pretty quickly otherwise

joy's role in nina's life was mainly to book her for enough public-facing events/etc so that people wouldn't question where she was when she "disappeared" for a month or two, as well as act as her social media manager/"source close to her" to tabloids during extended absences so people continue to think she's okay. this was especially important given nina's monumental rise to fame (and as a screenplay writer, at that! usually it's the actors/directors who get most of it!) and her relatively young age, which meant she got herself a fandom very quickly…and we all know what the rumor-spreading capabilities of stan twitter are like. there were quite a few times nina came back from a mission to find several "new" pics on her instagram or that shes going viral for something she doesn't "remember" saying lskdjf

amber's role was to media-train the hell out of nina so she never gives any indication that a) there's an element of truth in her work; b) she lives a double life; and c) weird things keep happening in the cities she happens to frequent (eg random buildings falling, artifacts disappearing, etc). we all know this girl can't lie to save her life…amber is nothing but a miracle-worker in that regard lol

as for eddie – his death is basically the reason things are so awful, now. he actually dies at the end of tor, and not only does osiris himself blame nina for it (using "logic" that can rival senkhara's in s2), but it also leaves nina terrified since she no longer has a protector – something all the other gods/spirits quickly take advantage of (threats/blackmail/etc) for the first few years, by which time word of her willingness to do anything spreads and she can't get rid of the constant requests. it doesn't help that his death also proved to them that nina (like her counterpart) can, and will, sacrifice herself to save the world, if it came down to it, making her the perfect pawn in a lot of schemes.

[fictionfixations]

edit: if anyone saw a post where i was being all depressed because i lost the post i was working on. turns out tumblr did post it but my sleep deprived brain didnt think to check my posts !??! thats my bad

i make poor decisions when its late and i really shouldnt be playing gacha games because i get more impulsive then i usually am but also outside of 'i really want halloween riddle' i and someone else were praying for each others pulls (we both wanted riddle) and were gonna stay up until it did the daily reset to immediately start pulling so here i am (if you've seen my other posts you should know that it was also like this in HSR that I pulled Jade even though I didn't have an erudition built and didnt really want her but tired me thought ..what if i pulled and then i got her and then i didnt have pulls for jiaoqiu)

Result is, Halloween Rook (30 pulls) Halloween Riddle (60 pulls) and then since I was already there I decided to pull until 100 where I got Halloween Silver (100 pulls) its a good haul👍 but also rip all my pull savings. but also now i have all the cards i ever wanted (riddle as a fav and silver cause when i first started and looked at everyones card art his halloween one was really pretty) so like. this is good with me 🤷

anyway the only card remaining on my like. wish list(???) i guess is like. next main story card. erRr JP SpoiLeRS but Sebek Armor of Eternal Night or something like that. cause General Lilia duos with Sebek. but honestly not that big a deal sometimes i find dorm uniform sebek's as peoples support card

but thats less a want want and more i want him to make my cards strong instead of i just want to pull them i probably wont use them but like i want them (i probably will use them in the future but i need to build my main team first 💀)

in any case i do like sebek but also idk man

like. i set a bunch of goals of stuff i really wanted to do as a twst player when first starting which was really a bunch of ideals (like it didnt really seem possible and i figured id have to settle for less?) but like

i wanted halloween riddle and silver general lilia tropical wear riddle i got all of them

also i wanted to get every riddle card cause ppl were doing it for the favorites and i really liked riddle. so i got his birthday bloom. i do NOT have his other birthday cards because ooh boy i do not have the funds for that im perfectly content with my birthday bloom, one ssr at a time please. but so im content with that, still marking it was ok since tbh i dont really expect to get them all since i usually play f2p and also even i got all of them wtf do i do with them ???? but so check anyways for birthday bloom. but also besides that i literally got him in the first ten pull TWICE so like. i feel like that should count ?? cause that was stupid crazy luck 😭

and i wanted two dorm uniform cards who duo'd off of each other so i could have like two of them in one turn and it does the satisfying double duo thing when it switches between them attacking

which i can do. because i got dorm riddle when i first started, and i got dorm azul a bit ago who im working on getting the books for. so i can do that too.

and then i also wanted to be the kind of player who had a bunch of strong cards built that i could switch between a bunch of them for battles. which i do i just need to build them.

so its like.

??? idk what to do now

i yapped a lot more than i thought i would

um.

[papihomo]

Rant Incoming

At this point I am so done, I am so fucking done.

Today in Prague, a shooting took place targeting Jewish people at the Charles University allegedly and if you dont fucking believe me you can look it up, and if I hear you say its "hurr durr propaganda" Im honestly just gonna say that youre an antisemite, just because you dont SAY that you are doesnt make you less of an antisemite.

Whenever Jewish people suffer instead of letting us mourn, you ask, "Are they Israeli?" To see if you can justify their deaths further

What the fuck happened to People dont equal their governments? What happened to you didnt choose where you were born? This immediately goes out the window when it comes to Jewish people because YOU DONT FUCKING CARE

YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

ALL OF YOU WHO STALK ISRAELIS AND MAKE JEWISH PEOPLE THAT YOU DONT LIKE LIVE'S ABSOLUTE HELL

HOW DO YOU EVEN SLEEP AT NIGHT?

ARE WE JUST ANIMALS TO YOU?

ARE WE ONLT CONVENIENT WHEN WE ARE DEAD? WHEN WE ARE SILENT OR COMPLACENT?

WHEN I CONVERTED DO YOU KNOW HOW HURTFUL IT WAS KNOWING OTHER PEOPLE OF MY ETHNICITY ABANDONED ME FOR CONVERTING SAYING I WAS EVIL? THAT I AM NOW A "TRAITOR" TO THE INDIGENOUS COMMUNITY FOR CONVERTING TO JUDAISM?

DO YOU NOT HEAR YOURSELVES WHEN YOU SAY WE EAT CHILDREN AND CONTROL THE WORLD? YOU ARE REGURGITATING WHAT THE N@ZIS SAID

I AM DONE, I AM DONE!

MY SUFFERING, MY GRIEF, OUR SUFFERING, OUR GRIEF DESERVES AS MUCH RESPECT AS ANYONE ELSES

WE ARE PEOPLE TOO, HOW COME YOU SEE WHITE AMERICANS WHO LIVE ON STOLEN LAND AS HUMANS BUT NOT ISRAELIS?

OR DO YOU JUST HATE JEWS?

WE ARE GETTING HATE CRIMED, DYING AND YOU CHEER IT ON? AS "ACTIVISM"? WE ARE NOT ANIMALS, WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS, ALL OF US!

WHEN WILL YOU SEE THAT WE TOO HURT? THAT WE TOO DONT APPROVE OF BIBI AND HIS GOVERNMENT?

IM TIRED OF EXPLAINING TO PEOPLE THAT I AM HUMAN, I AM HUMAN! I AM HUMAN! I AM NOT AN ANIMAL! AND I AM NOT THE GOVERNMENT EITHER

SUPER IMPORTANT EDIT: Alright so update, the shooting in Prague was apparently not linked to antisemitic hatecrime thankfully but the people who died were still innocent human beings who did not deserve to die, my sincerest condolences to the families, victims & the witnesses of the atrocity that took place at Charles University.

Honestly I feel so sorry for not looking deeper into the shooting and honest apologies.

The point STILL stands, regardness of national identity or ethnicity, we do NOT deserve to be victims of violence.

To all the Czech people, I am so sorry for not mentioning the full story and going off of what I heard, hypocritical on my part.

And still, even if this attack wasnt meant to target Jewish or Israeli people, it still stands that attacking Jewish or Israeli people is fully WRONG, disgusting, racist and deplorable.

[viscerawrites]

status update 9/28/2024

just a lil post to announce what fics ive worked on/tasks ive crossed off my checklist today! its mostly for myself rlly fcngnhkk buuut its here if anyone's curious ig? Im just chilling

---

what ive accomplished today:

wrote 492 words for chapter 2 of where love didn't exist

today was the first time ive been able to work on this fic (w/o anxiety) since i first posted it in january, so that's pretty nice! tbh i lost so much confidence in it after i lost my therapist since i was hoping to use it as a coping fic while i processed shit. but who knows, maybe it'll still help me learn things abt myself. regardless, im excited to be back at it!

wrote 156 words for my sleep token oneshot wip, the body as a temple ; got it to 913!

i havent worked on this one in a while either lol, mostly bc i started it right before The Anxiety started hitting me every time i sat down to write. i was honestly rlly nervous to return to it cuz i was scared I wouldn't be able to keep writing it at all. but im giving myself the grace to move slow, so. rare W for me.

retyped/sorta edited 582 words for chapter 1 of my hollywood undead wip the exorcism of jorel decker

i actually posted this 1st chapter a long while ago! then i deleted it, tried to rework into original fiction, realized i was having much more fun writing it as bandfic, and then foolishly orphaned the original version instead of just deleting </3 but the good news abt that is. idk if i still have it in my google docs at all. so at least i have that to reference LOL.

---

soo.

today is saturday september 28 (this month is going by way too fast fr) and it's just past 6pm rn. got a late start today bc i was exhausted as shit for a while, then i talked to my mom incessantly for what was apparently hours. So i only got started around 3pm (but i still needed to warm up, soo it took longer. Bleh).

didn't set my checklist goals at the start of the day like i planned to bc i was having The Anxiety and a bit of decision paralysis. and was also worried abt.. Various things. so it doesn't feel as successful today, but ive still gotten shit done and that's what should matter to me.

out of everything ive typed today, ive done abt 1,230 words in total so far. Most of that was unfortunately just me retyping shit ive already written and am now moving from google docs to ellipsus (which i highly recommend btw). i typically prefer to retype into new software instead of pasting; it gets the brain flowing better.

but i did still write some new words, and a lot of what i retyped was modified and added to. or cut. Whatever it needed rlly.

im still trying to find the proper schedule for myself + the best way to juggle my millions of projects/ideas. I need to allow myself some wiggle room while still having some structure. adhd is making this a bit difficult (as it so often does), but it's rlly just trial and error rn. Plus a lot of self-acceptance and focusing on making things easier and more fun for myself - instead of worrying abt the "most reasonable" way to do things. Or anything others might recommend.

I do still plan on writing some more before the night is done, so I might be back w/ an update for this before I head to bed. I got distracted by my brother while writing this post so it's now just after 6:45 LOL.

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gonna close this post off w/ music ive been rlly liking today! bc,, why not.

Animals - Ice Nine Kills (maroon 5 cover)

Disturbia - The Cab (rihanna cover)

What I Never Learned In Study Hall - Ice Nine Kills

[ohem1111]

no one acknowledged roslyn’s birthday, not even her mother, the one who gave birth to her on that very day all those years ago.

during eden’s little 4am trip downstairs for something to satisfy her pregnancy craving she notices roslyn sleeping outside. in that moment she is furious, storms out and wakes her up.

eden: “roslyn ivy elmore what do you think you are doing out side at this hour, and sleeping even, you are going to get sick and i can’t have that around me right now”

roslyn: “mom, i-”

eden: “get to your room i don’t want to hear it”

roslyn: “no mom, you will hear it, whether you listen or not, you will hear me. you wanna know why i’m out here? aside from the fact that i literally sit out here to watch the sunrise every morning, not that you’ve ever cared or noticed.”

eden: “roslyn don’t y-”

roslyn: “mom i am out here right now instead of in my own bed is because i’m letting bram sleep there. because guess what, you never bought him a new bed that he can actually sleep in.” eden’s face instantly realizes how greatly she has been neglecting her own children lately.

roslyn: “maybe if you’d take a break from popping out kids, you would be able to pay attention to the ones you already have. and you don’t have to keep pretending we don’t know mom. we know you are pregnant again right now.”

eden: “ros… i don’t know what to say”

roslyn: “you could try ‘happy birthday’ but you’d be approximately 4 hours and 53 minutes to late for that to still be accurate.”

eden: “we were waiting for the right time to tell you.”

roslyn: “right time to tell me what?! that you are pregnant? why do you think i care that much, it’s barely even anything knew at this point. could you even tell me any of your other kids birthdays or is it just mine that you forget.”

eden: she stands up defeated, and says something roslyn would have bever guessed she’d hear next, “come inside i’ll have the butler put together the guest room” not an ‘i’m sorry.’ not a ‘happy birthday.’ not even that she would be the one to get the guest room together for herself. she didn’t even use the butlers name.

roslyn: “i already told you, i am watching the sunrise”

eden walks back into the house without another second of time put into trying to righting all of the wrongs that we’re just addressed during their fight.

as eden watched the late night sky beginning to slowly fade into early morning she sends up a signal to space for anyone, anything to take her away from this nightmare she is in.

who knows, maybe the stars will do more than just listen this time.

previous || next

i wish that tumblr had more text color options because i’m bummed that i won’t be able to have a special text colors for the next two gens. also surprise, we are about to start gen 4!

also also: im mad at myself for not checking mccc occult section for what ages could be abducted, (because of course that is something you can change with mccc) i wanted to do it while she was a child but i assumed that because teens could attempt to contact aliens then she could possibly get abducted but i was wrong there too, the default is only young adults and up so if you are doing this challenge, i recommend editing that setting before you unnecessarily age up your sim like i did LOL

also also alsoooo: (also is basically my ps. at this point lol) eden is basically done with her gen. all she needs to do is keep having babies until she is an elder which i don’t care to stay in the household until she is an elder, and she can get married now that she is an adult. her and dorian were already engaged by accident because dorian called odin when he was a child saying he found a ring in eden’s bag and asked odin what to say but i didn’t know that saying he should say yes would automatically make them engaged LOL so i don’t even have screenshots of that. i’ll just have them elope eventually, i don’t care to do a wedding with them.

[strongheartneteyam]

💌 A messy open letter/life update to my moots, readers and followers (?)

MY LOVES MY ANGELS HI!!!

IM SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING Y'ALL FOR SO LONG my kitten is just now healed enough (not fully healed yet. she still has sutures) for me to be able to let her walk around the room and play by herself without being too dangerous for her health and I FINALLY was able to sleep more these last 4 days (I didn't talk to ANY of my friends for 3 days bc all I could do was sleep - even during the day, like, a lot - watch movies n read a bit (books, not fanfiction)/study neuroscience and anatomy a bit) so, now, I'm only like 70% recovered from so much sleep deprivation (being an amateur nurse for a spayed kitten and also doing house chores, mostly by yourself, ain't easy) and I've been logging in here for like only 30 minutes up to a maximum of like 1 hour or so, and not even everyday, just editing some stuff on my posted fanfiction/checking my notifications, messages, asks and OMG you guys are AMAZING!!! So much love that I'm receiving, from moots, readers, followers or even people who I don't think follow me but they support my works somehow, even after me being gone for this long while... IM SO THANKFUL AND MOVED!!! I love this fandom SO MUCH! I have no words!! I've been in many fandoms in my life and the Avatar one is by far the most supportive, peaceful - to a certain extent - and full of good energy and love! I PROMISE I will get to answer y'all soon enough!

And about the talk that's been going on about the fandom dying, DONT U WORRY MY BABIES, MOMMA VICTÓRIA AINT GOING NOWHERE! Speaking for me, at least, this tall blue aliens obsession is NOT something temporary! I'll be writing my lil stories for y'all forever, if I'm able to (lol) 🤍 I've loved Avatar since the first time I watched the 2009 movie, back when it was released and I was a child, and now that I'm a grown woman in her 20s, I still feel such a big connection to this fictional universe, in a literal spiritual level. I was a pagan/had a witchy/nature based spirituality for years of my life, tho I'm not pagan anymore, since I slowly realized I never truly believed in the pagan gods and magick, but, instead, I just see God in nature and see it as sacred and something that should be respected and taken care of, instead of destroyed. I also have indigenous heritage from my great grandmother, love my indigenous culture, live in a small town, next to the countryside, always felt crazily connected to nature and the Universe and been deeply fascinated by space, aliens, sci-fi, fantasy, always been called a "hippie" by people, either to tease me playfully or to try to make me feel bad for being a bit too much like Kiri Sully (istg me and Kiri are one and the same) so, this fandom serves me JUST RIGHT 😅🫀✨🌱👽💕 I'm here to stay and I WILL help keep this wonderful fandom alive!!! 💖

Anyways... I feel like I already "talked" way too much lol I'm wordy, sorry 🥲 but that's one of the reasons I can write well, so... it's got its bad and its good side ahaha

Speaking of writing, I have like 6 to 7 chapters of Realize where you belong saved (only need to edit and fill in some gaps) bc, even in the middle of so much physical and mental working, I'VE BEEN SO BLESSED with inspiration and been able to write A LOT lately, in the wee free time I've been having, so... if you're reading this fanfiction, I might be updating it later today or tomorrow!

Hope you're all doing good and taking care of yourselves! I've been trying to! I LOVE Y'ALL TO THE MOON AND BACK 💘

With love, your messy and a bit crazy but honest and caring fanfiction writer,

Victória ♡

[kiruyeen]

sorry though I would be gone but back to ask a question qwq

Im making a Tumblr community thing should I make it public or private? As i want people to be able to find it but im worried it might be hated on as it going to be a safe space/rp thing qwq

Also any name ideas? Or maybe pfp and maybe bander ideas? :3

(I have doggy daycare at the moment don't if it fgood or not and bander i like :3)

(I should be asleep but im not im so sorry if this sounds weird it very late for me and im kinda feeling sick and I'm writing this instead of sleeping probably going to try and sleep qwq)

-mama doggo

you're okay!

Id rather not make your blog for you, but I love how doggy daycare sounds :D honestly depending on what it is I dont see much of a reason it would get hate? (from the name Id assume its an age/petre and adjacent safespace) your only worry should be loser reddit trolls who pop up like once 3 months at most (Ive had a mogai blog for nearly 2 years now and only got targeted like once maybe twice if that gives you an idea)

and the only thing I can think of for pfp/banner is pictures/gifs of puppies with the pale pink vignette overlay used for cutegore edits (with the flowers and sometimes strawberries) T T I did just wake up though but I hope this gives you an idea at least

[bvannn]

Weekly Update March 8, 2024

I didn’t do as much as I had hoped over spring break due to still being sleep deprived, but tomorrow and the next night I should be able to catch up. I’m making a good deal of progress on stuff.

I figured out animation with Clip Studio enough to make a little gif of Romeo playing piano, to go along with his theme. I’m really happy with how it came out. That’s the biggest song I have ready, but I’m really close on another (unless I decide to get more ambitious, which I might), and I do have a smaller one scheduled to go up Tuesday. I’m feeling surprisingly good about music.

The main problem I’m having is kind of a ‘just finish it’ thing, where I’m just not motivated to go record melodies or melody parts for whatever reason. That’s what’s holding back a couple pieces now, but I’m hoping that I can do some tonight or tomorrow. I’m thinking tonight because I got hit with inspiration for another character theme melody, and I don’t want to lose it while I sleep tonight, but I’d feel bad starting in that when another character theme and some other miscellaneous pieces are also awaiting melodies and recordings. I’d like to knock a whole bunch out tonight, because theoretically they shouldn’t be that bad, the annoying part is dressing them up for use which doesn’t need to be done tonight. Im not sure if I want to tonight because I also want to draw, at a minimum I’ll record that character theme melody.

The other big music thing is a vocaloid cover of a song that I’m using to test out how vocaloid works. I got the audio back from the friend with the voicebanks, and it sounds a lot better than expected! There’s a couple things I do want to tweak, but I don’t think I’d be able to do it from within the program, it’ll probably be more me fiddling with the wav file. Idk song is going surprisingly well, shouldn’t be very complicated to round up instruments, I already got all the plugins set up it’s just a matter of recording. I’ve also managed to find a guy in my area who offers Guitar lessons for cheap, which I’ve been taking and I do think the two I’ve been to are helping. Maybe if I get really brazen I can record organic guitar instead of using a vst, since it should be mostly or entirely power chords, but it’s not the end of the world if I can’t.

I do want to figure out visuals to go with it. I was a little hesitant to really put in a big effort with it, until I heard that buying a license for cover rights is ‘not actually that expensive’. I don’t know if that means 10 or 200 bucks but worst case I can hold onto it until I’m comfortable enough to drop money if it’s really that expensive. I’d like to do a simple music video with the vocaloid character, since the original song’s video is also really simple, although I need to figure out character design. Might throw a few together and put up a poll.

I’ve been trying to get more drawing stuff done too, some miscellaneous animations mostly. I’m really trying to push myself to finish up the timings I need for my commission sheet, and honestly I’m pretty close. I feel bad because I probably will have to increase prices after all, but I’m also offering other options, which can still be cheap. I’m trying not to undercut myself for my level of work, but art commissions are so expensive that I don’t want to be overcharging either. Most of the comms I have done have come with tips, so I guess people are willing to pay a bit more than I was charging anyway, but even then I don’t want to crank the prices high just because a few people are willing to pay more. I’m charging based on time, I just need to sort out how long things take.

Final point, comic writing/thumbnailing is going well, I’m at 25.5/32. Unsure how bad editing is going to be, but I’m kinda editing as I go along so I don’t anticipate it’ll be that bad. I’m expecting to be able to actually start making pages soon. What comes next could either be a continuation or a pitch for the other story. I get more questions about the other story, so I’m tempted, but I also feel like it’s a harder sell than the first. Whatever I need to finish the first one first, and that’s what I’ll do.

I’m still messed up on sleep and flareups are also picking up pretty bad, but only in the mornings, so I bet if I get more sleep they’ll go away too. Either way I do have a consult for the next surgery to deal with that in a couple months, so I should hopefully be okay. Plan tonight is to either draw some more or record some stuff

[kiwichaeng]

so i told myself i wouldn’t bother you again today But im editing september and i couldn’t help but share this one line with you:

Carlos is saying, “this is me, I’m not hiding from you,” and TK is lapping it all up.

sending you good vibes for the rest of the week!! 💫

Okay first of all, you are NEVER a bother! In fact, any notification from you makes my day so much better!!

Second, I LOVE CARLOS I LOVE THIS LINE I LOVE BOTH OF THEM!!! I was telling my best friend all about how much Carlos has grown in the fic (she hasn't read the fic but the way I talk about it she may as well have) and it made me revisit all the little moments and NOW THIS???? He lives in my pocket actually

"this is me I'm not hiding from you" you could've just stabbed me instead I- 😭😭. The bond they have is so beautiful 😭😭

Okay I should seriously sleep now but THANK YOU for sharing this it's amazing. You have a great rest of the week and once again, you're never a bother ❤️❤️