#i spent like half an hour being a mad man over This

[mhaccunoval]

i was trying not to but i AM ruminating on joel and tommy’s relationship...

as i’ve said before. you KNOW joel had to have elder sibling syndrome his entire life, and honestly probably of his own volition. like it doesn’t FEEL like, to me, their parents forced him into a young parent role; he’s just naturally a protector and tommy’s his baby brother so, obviously, he’s going to pull that scamp out of scraps and other trouble he probably got himself into (they grew up in the 70s and 80s, no matter where you place tommy’s birthday, so they were definitely messing around as 70s and 80s kids/teens do). and, naturally, he definitely both chastised and teased the shit out of tommy for it, especially when it was an especially stupid scrap/situation tommy got himself into.

but they both lived and they learned, joel backed off, let tommy be his own (adult) man but still kept him close because. well. that’s still his baby brother, that’s still his best friend. and, given the first episode, they probably got closer after sarah was born— tommy becoming ““cool”“ uncle tommy— and even closer after joel’s wife left. stayed where joel’s ‘till death do us part’ was supposed to and gave back the support and protection that joel’s given him their entire lives.

and later after the cordyceps outbreak, joel trying SO hard to make sure he radioed in and was safe, now back to being overprotective of his baby brother in this expansive dead zone of a country full of ravenous fungal zombies.

THEN there’s 1.06/kin......... he’s FINALLy sure that tommy’s alright because he’s yelling to him and squeezing the ever loving hell out of him— probably harder than he’s ever squeezed him, even if they were huggers when they were young. and he’s so delighted to see him and to have a hot meal for the first time in ages— only to find out this woman he’s with is his wife and having his child. like i can only imagine that deep down there was a spark of anger in not having been told sooner, as scanty as communications seem to be (plus any frustration in finding out about the commune’s communism, etc etc). and then there’s the bar scene and the hostilities between them. only for the trust to be reinstated once they’ve calmed down and joel is pouring his heart out about his fears and shows he trusts his baby brother and his care enough to want to leave ellie in his safety. plus there’s when joel told ellie to leave him there and go back to tommy’s, which she obviously refuses as harshly as she refused to stay inthe commune in the first place, but nevertheless there’s that deep down knowledge that his younger brother is a good and capable man, who probably WILL make a fine father (if you push past joel’s own trauma around fatherhood).

yet i also can’t stop thinking about the post saying that we got to see the side of joel that tommy knew/feared. like tommy was the first to get a glimpse at the power that joel possessed and i can only IMAGINE how terrifying that was. like, yeah, circling back to what i said about pulling tommy out of scraps, joel probably punched quite a few kids in their youth, kicked some asses for messing with his little brother but. the rage and power that fills him in the apocalypse is. far BEYOND just an accentuation. and, frankly, i think if (though more likely When) tommy hears about david’s town and the hospital he. he won’t be surprised. in knowing what joel’s capable of and having already seen even a fraction of how much he cares for ellie (the fuel for raging fire). he’s seen the way that joel would claw his way out of hell, battered and bruised, if it means protecting one of his daughters and. i can’t begin to think what conflicting feelings that could create inside a person. like here’s his older brother, the one who’s protected and loved him his entire life, being a double-edged sword of care & love & support on one side juxtaposed by an almost Monstrous side that will hyperfocus on doing WHATEVER is necessary to protect aforementioned daughters. it’s a woven tapestry of morals and memories and feelings, spattered with blood, yet at the same time there’s a shimmering element worked into the wool fibers that is difficult NOT to love

[bitegore]

everyone in my household owes my friends and my ex girlfriend so fucking much.

[itneverendshere]

Bartender!reader reacting to rafes buzz cut for the first time.

made it extra fluffy and flirty bc i've been writing too much angst 😭thank you for the request, hope you like it💗

it's buzzcut season anyway - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

You were in the middle of counting your tips when the door creaked open again. You didn’t even look up this time. The lunch rush had finally slowed, and you were way too focused on making sure some old man’s cash hadn’t gotten stuck together. 

Your break started in two minutes. Your plan? Grab something to eat with Rafe and maybe—if you were lucky—convince him to give you one of those neck massages he was so good at. You’d earned it after dealing with the entitled club members all morning, and he always liked giving you a hard time about being stressed when he came to visit you at work.

If you could just survive until your break, you could—

“Hey, baby,” a voice drawled, warm and familiar.

Rafe.

Your heart did that stupid little thing it always did when you heard his voice, and you couldn’t help but smile even before you looked up.

“Hey, ba—” Your words caught in your throat the second you actually saw him.

Your hand stilled on the cash. He was standing in the doorway, all long toned limbs and that easy charm you’d fallen for over a year ago. But something was off. You squinted, your brain trying to catch up to what you were seeing. It wasn’t the way he was standing or the fact that he had on a backwards cap—he always did that. It was what wasn’t under the cap. Something was missing.

Your eyes went straight to the top of his head.

“Wait—what the—” You blinked, abandoning the tips on the counter as you stepped around it and walked toward him, your eyes locked on the top of his head, trying to figure out if you were seeing things. “Did you buzz your head?”

He just grinned, casually leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, totally unbothered. “Yeah. What d’ya think?”

You gawked at him. “You shaved your head. You literally shaved your head.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. His cap was covering most of it, but you could see enough—enough to know that his thick, messy hair, the hair you’d spent countless hours running your fingers through, was gone. 

Gone.

“Oh my God. You buzzed it? For real?”

Rafe straightened up, lifting his cap and running a hand over the buzzed length, showing it off like he was some kind of model. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. You don’t like it?”

Your fingers itched to touch it, but you hesitated. You were trying so hard not to freak out. He’d just gone and buzzed his head without even telling you.

“Like it? I—” You sputtered, waving your hand in the air. “Baby, your hair! You just... did this? No warning? No ‘hey, baby, I’m thinking about going full buzzcut, what do you think?’”

His grin turned cocky as he reached out to pull you into him by the waist. “I thought I’d surprise you. Didn’t expect you to get all worked up over it.”

You gave him a playful shove, but he didn’t budge. “I’m not worked up! I’m just... shocked. I thought I was gonna get to lunch with my boyfriend and his hair, not—” You gestured to his head, still half in disbelief. “—this.”

He chuckled, leaning down so his forehead almost touched yours. “So... you hate it?”

You gave him a look, trying to stay mad or at least a little indignant about the whole thing, but it was impossible with him looking at you like that.

“You thought I’d like you going from ‘beach boy’ to ‘buzzcut’ overnight with no warning?”

“Pretty much.” He leaned in, “You gonna tell me you don’t like it?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about it.

Truth was, you were already starting to like it. You liked that it was new, that it was him, and that it made him look a little rougher, more rugged. But you weren’t gonna tell him that right away. You hadn’t expected to be into it, not at all. Rafe’s hair had always been one of your favorite things about him—the way it’d curl up when he got all sweaty in the summer or how it’d fall into his eyes when he was being serious.

But... the buzzcut? You weren’t expecting it to be hot. But it was. So hot.

“I didn’t say I hate it...” you said, letting your voice trail off as you finally gave in and ran your fingers over the buzzed hair. It was soft, like velvet, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning.

He chuckled, one hand coming up to cup your chin as he tilted your face up toward his. “Knew it.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“See? Told ya,” he teased, his hands still gripping your waist as he watched your reaction. “You can’t keep your hands off me now.”

“I never said I couldn’t,” you shot back, your cheeks heating up. “It’s just... I wasn’t expecting to like it this much.”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes darkened, and he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your cheek. “Admit it. You think I look hot. You’re lookin’ at me like you can’t wait to get me alone.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you playfully pushed at his chest, trying to cover up how much he was getting to you. “Shut up,” you laughed. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“I know you love it.”

You groaned, finally giving in to a full laugh. “Okay, okay. Fine. You look hot.”

Rafe grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Knew you couldn’t resist.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a quick peck, unable to help yourself now. “You owe me lunch for this, though.”

“I brought you lunch,” he said, lifting the bag you hadn’t even noticed in his other hand.

“Oh, did you now?” You raised a brow. “You’re really tryin’ to get on my good side today, huh?”

“I’ll grow it back, don’t worry,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against your neck. “But for now, you’re stuck with this.”

As you both sat down at one of the tables near the back of the bar, you couldn’t stop sneaking glances at his head.

It wasn’t just the look of it that was getting to you—it was the fact that he’d done something so out of the blue, just like that. He always kept you on your toes, never predictable, and surprisingly, you loved that.

He caught you looking for the millionth time and shot you a smug smile. “I can tell you wanna say somethin’. Spill.”

You reached over and ran your fingers through the nonexistent hair again, giggling. 

“I just can’t get over it, baby. You look like a whole new person. A sexy, buzzed-head guy.”

His smile softened, his hand finding yours on the table. “Yeah?”

You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. “I mean, I miss your old hair, but I’m into this. You look hot.” You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to his mouth.

His eyes darkened a little, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Careful or I’m not gonna let you finish your lunch before I drag you outta here.”

Your heart raced, “Rafe Cameron, if you ruin my lunch break, I swear—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, leaning across the table to press his lips to yours again, not caring that you were still technically on the clock. You melted into him, all thoughts of food forgotten for a moment. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless.

“I can’t believe you buzzed your head,” you whispered, still grinning.

“I can’t believe you’re this obsessed with it.”

“…Fine.”

[syluslnd]

hello! can i request heavy angst with sylus and mc? like them never officially being in a relationship but clearly belonging to eachother, keeping a love-hate slowburn dynamic so it's nothing knew when they fight, but one day they get into a really bad, heated argument. out of anger sylus says something he immediately regrets and mc leaves (also out of anger) but something happens and they don't come back. (you can decide if it's happy ending or not)! thank you in advance!

house of cards

word count 5.6k

tags- angst no comfort,verbal insults ,death,dead dove,grieving

──── ୨୧ ────

The night was cool and the dim streetlights of Onychinus cast long shadows over the pavement. You waited outside one of Sylus’s known hideouts, a secluded bar where his lieutenants often gathered. It had become routine—waiting.

You leaned against the rough stone wall, arms crossed, trying to calm the growing frustration. He hadn’t reached out in days and when he did, it was for one thing—hooking up, nothing more, nothing less. Every time you tried to talk about something real, something deeper, he deflected with that arrogant smirk or one of his quick dismissals.

It was driving you mad. You wanted more than the casual, heated exchanges. But how could you demand more from someone who wouldn’t even admit what you were to him?

Footsteps echoed behind you and you straightened, turning to see Sylus approaching, his tall frame cutting through the dim light like a shadow. He looked as composed as ever, eyes sharp and calculating. You couldn’t deny the way your heart raced at the sight of him but the growing anger inside kept you from softening.

“You’ve been busy” you muttered as he stopped in front of you, crossing your arms tighter over your chest.

Sylus raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “What can I say, sweetie? I run an empire. It keeps me occupied.” His tone was casual, indifferent, like he wasn’t fazed by your clear annoyance.

“That’s the problem” you shot back, your voice edged with frustration. “You’re always ‘occupied.’ When was the last time we spent more than an hour together without it turning into some… thing? It’s like you don’t even care unless we’re in bed.”

He chuckled softly, though there was a sharpness behind it. “You’re upset because I’m busy? You knew what this was.”

His dismissiveness was the last straw. “Is that all this is to you?” you asked, your voice rising. “Just something casual whenever you feel like it?”

Sylus’s expression darkened slightly, his calm demeanor still intact but there was something colder in his eyes now. “You’re making this bigger than it is.”

Your chest tightened. How could he be so dismissive? You weren’t asking for the world just… something more than this half-life with him. “Bigger than it is? Sylus, you barely talk to me unless you want something. I’m tired of feeling like an afterthought. I deserve more than that.”

For a moment, his expression softened but it was fleeting. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “What do you want from me?” His voice was low, almost dangerously calm. “I’m not the kind of man who makes promises. You know that. But you’re still here.”

You pulled away from his touch, the sting of his words echoing in your mind. “I don’t know how much longer I can be” you admitted, your voice quieter now, the weight of it hitting both of you.

Sylus watched you pull away, a flicker of something passing through his eyes—annoyance maybe or something deeper that he wasn’t about to show. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before dropping it back to his side.

“Fine” he said, voice laced with irritation “I’ll make it up to you. Let’s go out. Will that make you happy?” His words felt more like an obligation than a genuine apology, as if he were doing you a favor by even suggesting it.

You scoffed lightly, the apology clearly lacking any sincerity. “Really, Sylus? An apology and an offer to go out, just like that? You think that’s enough?”

He rolled his eyes, the sharpness of his usual calm starting to crack just a little. “You’re not making this easy. I’m trying here.” There was a slight edge to his voice but his gaze softened for a moment. “So, where do you want to go?”

You bit back the retort that almost escaped, knowing pushing too far too fast wouldn’t get either of you anywhere. “The arcade. I want to go to the arcade” you said, watching him closely.

Sylus’s expression shifted and for a second, the irritation returned. He didn’t hide the slight frown tugging at his lips. “An arcade?” he repeated, like the idea was absurd for someone like him. “You want me to take you to a place full of flashing lights and teenagers wasting time?”

A small smile crept onto your face despite the tension. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want. It’s fun, Sylus. Or have you forgotten how to have fun?”

His eyes narrowed, clearly not amused by the teasing. But then, after a pause he sighed again this time more resigned. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t much of an apology and you could tell he was annoyed but there was something in the way he relented that caught you off guard. Sylus was many things—cold, ruthless, always in control—but every now and then you caught these small moments where it seemed like he was trying, even if he didn’t fully understand why.

“Thank you” you said, keeping your voice soft but not letting the gratitude carry too much weight. You didn’t want him to think everything was forgiven just because he agreed to one date. “We’ll go tomorrow, okay?”

He glanced at you, something unreadable in his gaze. “Sure. Tomorrow.”

You nodded, the awkward silence hanging between you like a thin thread. You didn’t know if you should say more or if this was one of those moments where you just let things settle. Sylus turned away but just before he walked off, his hand brushed yours—light, almost hesitant. It was a fleeting touch, gone before you could react but it lingered all the same.

The neon lights from the arcade spilled out onto the busy street, reflecting off the windows as people moved in and out, laughing and shouting over the sound of the games inside. You stood near the entrance, arms crossed, glaring at your phone. Sylus was late again. It wasn’t like this was a surprise—he was always late—but today, it stung more than usual. You had put effort into this. You wanted to have fun, just once, without all the complications. But, of course, Sylus had to ruin that by being Sylus.

You checked your phone again. 30 minutes late.

Your jaw clenched, anger boiling just beneath the surface. This wasn’t just about tonight—it was about all the other times he brushed you off, made you wait, or treated you like something he could pick up and drop whenever he felt like it. You were tired of being patient, tired of pretending it didn’t bother you when it did.

The sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention and you didn’t need to look to know it was him. Sylus always had a presence—a certain energy that shifted the air around him. Still, you didn’t turn right away, letting him stand there for a moment while you seethed in silence.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart” Sylus’s voice came smooth as ever, carrying that casual arrogance that drove you mad. You could feel his gaze on you, waiting for you to respond. “Business, you know how it is.”

You slowly turned to face him, the anger barely contained as you stared him down. “You’re thirty minutes late, Sylus.”

He tilted his head, his smirk teasing. “I thought you’d be used to it by now.”

That infuriating smirk—it was enough to make you want to scream. But this wasn’t the place. You were surrounded by kids, teenagers, people who didn’t know the kind of world Sylus lived in. You couldn’t make a scene, not here, even though every nerve in your body begged you to let loose.

“I’m tired of it” you said quietly, your voice sharp but low, careful not to draw too much attention. “You’re always late. It’s like you don’t even care.”

He stepped closer, his height casting a shadow over you but it wasn’t his size that had your heart racing. It was the way he looked at you, like he could see through every wall you put up and worse like he found it amusing. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let him distract you with his charm. “Don’t start with that. You think showing up late and calling me ‘cute’ is going to make this better?”

Sylus’s eyes glinted and he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering just enough that only you could hear him. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

There it was. That casual confidence the way he twisted every situation in his favor and the worst part? He was right. You were still here. But it wasn’t because you didn’t have enough self-respect to walk away—it was because, despite everything, some part of you still wanted this. Wanted him.

“You think I’m just going to let it slide every time?” you shot back, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to maintain your composure in public.

He chuckled softly that rich, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine despite your anger. “You’ll let it slide because you want to be here with me. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Your pulse quickened as his words hit deeper than you’d like to admit. He wasn’t wrong but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. You swallowed, trying to keep control of the emotions that were bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

“I wanted us to have a normal night” you muttered, glancing away to avoid his piercing gaze. “Just one night where we didn’t have to deal with your… business. But you couldn’t even show up on time.”

For a brief moment, something shifted in Sylus’s expression—something softer, almost like regret. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that familiar teasing smirk. “I’m here now. Isn’t that what matters?”

You looked at him, searching for any sign that he really cared, that he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. But Sylus was a master at hiding his true feelings. He could be teasing one second and dangerous the next, always keeping you guessing.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. “It’s not about you being here now. It’s about everything. About the way you treat me like an afterthought, like I’m only here when it’s convenient for you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your words. “You’re making this way too complicated, sweetheart.”

You clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing inside. “Maybe it’s not that complicated to want someone who actually gives a damn.”

Sylus smirked again, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “I give enough of a damn to be here, don’t I?”

His closeness was overwhelming, his presence suffocating yet intoxicating at the same time. You hated how easily he could pull you in, how his words—no matter how frustrating—always had a way of making you second-guess yourself. But you couldn’t let him win this time.

“Being here isn’t enoug” you whispered, your voice tense with emotion. “I need more than that.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, as if considering his next move. Then, with a soft, almost mocking chuckle, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You didn’t respond, biting your lip to keep the tears that were building up from spilling. You weren’t going to cry—not here, not in front of him. But the way he looked at you, like he could see every crack in your armor, made it hard to keep your emotions at bay.

After a long pause, he sighed, though it sounded more like annoyance than sympathy. “Alright, fine. I’ll make it up to you. We’re here now, let’s just enjoy the night,okay kitten”

You wanted to scream at him, to tell him that ‘enjoying the night’ wasn’t enough to fix what was broken between you two. But instead, you just nodded, knowing full well that this wasn’t the time or place for a real argument.

“Yeah” you muttered, your voice hollow. “Let’s enjoy the night.”

You stood in front of the claw machine, gripping the joystick harder than necessary, your eyes narrowed in concentration. The bright, colorful stuffed animals inside were taunting you, mocking your every failed attempt to grab one. You had already wasted several coins and each time the claw just slipped off the prize at the last second, your frustration only grew.

Sylus leaned against the machine behind you, his arms crossed and a smirk dancing on his lips. You could feel his gaze on you and it wasn’t helping your mood. You were still pissed—at him, at his nonchalant attitude, at the whole situation.

“Having trouble sweetie?” Sylus asked, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t answer, your jaw clenched as you maneuvered the claw over a plush toy that looked easy enough to grab. You hit the button, watching as the claw descended… only for it to fumble and drop the toy yet again. You cursed under your breath, stepping back from the machine in frustration.

Behind you, Sylus chuckled softly, clearly entertained by your struggle. “You know, you might be better at this if you weren’t so mad.”

“Shut up” you muttered, glaring at the machine like it was somehow responsible for your anger.

Sylus pushed himself off the wall, coming to stand beside you. “Let me try.”

You hesitated, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but eventually stepped aside with a sigh. Sylus slid a coin into the slot, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he wasn’t in any kind of rush. He tilted his head, studying the plush toys inside with a cool, calculating expression—like this was some kind of challenge he needed to win just to prove a point.

He moved the joystick with ease, barely paying attention and then pressed the button. You watched as the claw descended, grabbed a stuffed bear and successfully lifted it up, dropping it neatly into the prize chute without a hitch.

You stared at the bear in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sylus grinned, reaching in to grab the prize. “What can I say? I’m just lucky.”

You rolled your eyes still too annoyed to let it go. “It’s not luck when you don’t even care.”

He handed you the bear, his smirk softening just a little. “Here. Something to remember me by when I’m not around.”

You took the bear reluctantly, not sure whether to be touched or even more irritated. There was something in the way Sylus looked at you in that moment, though—a fleeting softness, like he was enjoying being here with you, even if he didn’t say it outright.

For a few minutes, it was almost… normal. You grabbed some drinks from the concession stand and you found yourself relaxing—just a little. The arcade lights, the sound of people laughing and playing games and even Sylus’s teasing remarks all blended into a strange sense of calm. Maybe it wasn’t perfect but it was something.

You took a sip of your drink, glancing at Sylus. “You think you can beat me at air hockey?”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sweetie you really want to challenge me?”

You shrugged, smiling for the first time since he showed up. “I’m just saying, you won’t win twice in a row.”

Sylus chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

The banter felt easy, natural even and for the first time in a long while, you were actually having fun with him—laughing, teasing, almost forgetting how mad you were earlier.

But just as you were starting to think the night might turn around, Sylus’s phone rang. You watched as his playful demeanor vanished, replaced by that familiar cold detached look that always came when something serious was happening.

He answered the call, turning away from you slightly but you could still hear bits and pieces of the conversation. It was business, obviously—Onychinus business.

You sighed, already knowing where this was headed.

After a few minutes Sylus hung up, his jaw tight. He didn’t look at you right away, as if he was bracing for your reaction.

“Let me guess” you said, your voice bitter. “You’ve got to go.”

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you apologetically. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You stared at him, your earlier frustration flooding back in an instant. “Make it up to me? You said that last time and the time before that.”

Sylus opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off your anger spilling over. “You know what? I’m done hearing your excuses. Every single time we try to do something, you end up bailing. I’m not an afterthought, Sylus.”

His gaze flickered but he remained calm, almost too calm. “It’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” you snapped. “Because it sure as hell feels like I’m just something you deal with when it’s convenient.”

He sighed, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You know how this works. I don’t get to choose when I get called.”

“You don’t get to choose?but you also don’t seem to care how it affects me” you shot back. “You always have time for business but never for me.”

Sylus’s jaw clenched and for a second you thought he might snap. But instead he just took a deep breath his voice low and controlled. “I’m trying to keep you out of this. That’s why I don’t bring you into my world more than I already have.”

You laughed bitterly. “Oh, so this is you protecting me? By making me feel like I don’t matter?”

He stepped closer his voice dropping even lower. “You do matter. But I can’t always be there when you want me to be.”

You looked up at him your anger mixing with something else—something closer to hurt. “I don’t need you there all the time, Sylus. I just need you to act like you care.”

For a brief moment his expression softened and you could see something flicker in his eyes—guilt, maybe or regret. But just as quickly as it appeared it was gone, replaced by that same cold distant look he always wore when things got too close, too real.

“I’ll call you later” he said, his tone clipped.

You stared at him in disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Sylus hesitated but eventually turned and walked away leaving you standing there your heart sinking as the sound of the arcade faded into the background.

It had been a week. A whole week without so much as a call or a message from Sylus. Each day that passed made your frustration grow until it morphed into a bitter, burning anger.

You knew this wasn't a relationship-he had never promised that. But still, the silence gnawed at you, his dismissive attitude felt like a slap in the face. All the excuses about his work, his responsibilities-none of them felt like enough anymore.

So when you heard a knock at your door and opened it to see Sylus standing there like nothing had happened you felt your blood boil.

“Hey kitten” he said casually, as if the past week hadn’t happened. He leaned against your doorframe his sharp eyes scanning you with a cool detached air. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. You could’ve at least called.”

You stared at him your anger simmering just beneath the surface. How could he be so nonchalant? So unaffected?

You tried to stay calm to hold it together but the way he stood there acting like everything was fine like he hadn’t disappeared without a word set you off. “I could’ve called?” you repeated, your voice shaking with anger. “Are you serious right now?”

Sylus shrugged, his usual smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah sweetie I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?” You felt the anger bubbling over and before you could stop yourself you stepped closer your fists clenched at your sides. “You disappeared for a week, and now you just show up like it’s no big deal? Do you even realize how pissed off I am?”

His gaze flickered with mild amusement as if your anger was some sort of game to him. “You’re always pissed off.”

You glared at him your chest tightening. “Because you give me every reason to be! You act like you don’t even care.”

Sylus chuckled, his eyes softening just slightly as he watched you fume. “You’re so adorable when you’re angry.”

His words were the final straw. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and you hated it—hated that he could make you feel like this, like your anger didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter. He had come here for one thing, and you knew it. That much was obvious by the way he was already moving closer his hand reaching for your waist as if he could just sweep all your anger away with a touch.

But you stepped back, stopping him in his tracks. “No.”

Sylus blinked, surprised by your sudden resistance. “No?”

“I’m not doing this” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m not just going to let you walk in here and act like everything’s fine.”

He stared at you his brow furrowing as if he didn’t quite understand why you were so upset. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you don’t give a damn about me” you snapped, your voice cracking as the tears finally spilled over. “You show up when it’s convenient for you, when you want something and I’m just supposed to go along with it? I’m not some toy you can pick up and put down whenever you feel like it, Sylus!”

For the first time Sylus didn’t have a clever comeback. He just stood there his smirk fading his expression hardening into something unreadable and for a moment, just a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

But then, his phone rang.

Of course.

You watched in disbelief as he pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen with that same detached expression you had grown to hate. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at you. “I have to take this.”

“No.” Your voice was low, trembling with barely-contained rage. “You’re not doing this again.”

He paused, his hand hovering over the phone. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice” you spat. “You just never choose me.”

Sylus’s jaw tightened but he remained silent his fingers gripping the phone as if it was some kind of lifeline. The phone kept ringing the sound filling the tense space between you like a countdown to something inevitable and that was it. That was the moment you snapped.

“You’re a cold-hearted bastard, you know that?” you said your voice rising as your anger reached its breaking point. “All you care about is your damn job, your stupid mafia game and yourself. You don’t care about me. You never did.”

Something in Sylus’s eyes darkened at your words but you were too far gone to stop now. “You act like you’re so untouchable, like nothing and no one matters to you. Well, guess what, Sylus? You’re not untouchable. You’re just a coward who can’t handle real emotions. You’re pathetic.”

His hand clenched around the phone, his calm exterior cracking just enough for you to see the anger brewing beneath the surface. “Watch it” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

But you didn’t back down. “No, you watch it. I’m done pretending like this is something it’s not. You show up when you feel like it, you leave whenever you get a call and you expect me to just wait around for you like I don’t have my own life. Well, I’m done. I’m done being your damn convenience.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed, his voice a deadly whisper. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about” you shot back. “I’m talking about how you treat me like I don’t matter, like I’m just here for your amusement.”

The tension in the room was thick, suffocating and for the first time Sylus didn’t have his usual cocky, unbothered expression. He looked… furious.

And then, in a moment of weakness, you said the words that changed everything. “You know what’s worse? We’re not even a couple. We’re not anything. I’m nothing to you, right? Just some girl you hook up with when you’re bored.”

Sylus’s expression turned cold, ice spreading through his gaze. His voice was quiet but sharp as a knife. “You’re right.”

The air was sucked from your lungs. You stared at him, feeling like the ground had just been ripped out from beneath you. He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t deny it. He just… confirmed it.

“We’re not a couple” Sylus continued his voice brutally calm. “We never were. You knew what this was from the start.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. His words cut deeper than any knife ever could. You had known of course you had known. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing the cold finality in his voice—it broke something inside you.

Tears welled up in your eyes again but this time they weren’t from anger. They were from heartbreak. You couldn’t even look at him anymore. “I hate you” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Sylus flinched, just slightly but he quickly masked it. “Go ahead, hate me all you want. It doesn’t change anything.”

You stared at him for a moment longer then turned on your heel and stormed out of the apartment. You didn’t care where you were going. You just needed to get away from him, from the pain, from everything.

The night outside was dark and cold the streets of Onychinus dangerous as ever. But you didn’t care. You were too hurt, too broken to care. You just kept walking, your tears blurring your vision as the world around you faded into nothingness.

And Sylus… didn’t follow.

Sylus had been drowning in work. The weight of Onychinus bore down on him heavier than usual. One of his trusted men had been leaking information—details of transactions, routes, even the inner workings of their operations. It was enough to shake the entire foundation he had built over the years.

He couldn’t afford to let this weakness show. Weakness in his world meant death. So he buried himself in the chaos, his mind constantly racing through strategies to tighten his grip on Onychinus, to snuff out the traitor, to keep his empire from crumbling. It consumed him, and every decision he made carried the cold, calculating precision of a leader who couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

But amidst all the chaos, one thing gnawed at the back of his mind—he hadn’t heard from you in days.

Two days. It wasn’t like you to be completely silent, not after the argument that had ended with you storming out, leaving him standing alone in your apartment. At first, he chalked it up to your stubbornness. You were angry.

You had every right to be. He hadn’t cared enough to check in, hadn’t thought to chase after you when you left. After all, that was how it had always been. You would blow up he’d brush it off and eventually things would return to the way they always were.

But something about this time was different. It lingered in the back of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Something was off.

On the third day, he finally caved. He sent Mephisto, his crow, to find you. It should’ve been easy—Mephisto never failed him. But when the bird came back, empty and restless a knot of dread settled in his chest.

His irritation mounted. He called his men, ordering them to find you. You couldn’t have gone far. He didn’t doubt your ability to survive but Onychinus wasn’t the kind of place you wandered alone for long without catching the wrong kind of attention.

As hours turned into days, his frustration grew. His men scoured the city, checking the places you frequented, talking to the few who might have seen you. But each report came back the same—nothing. No sign of you. No trace.

Until that first discovery.

The message came late in the night. One of his men, pale-faced and visibly shaken approached him in the office. Sylus didn’t look up from the mountain of paperwork, his pen scratching across the page.

“Sylus… we found something”the man stammered.

Sylus’s eyes flicked up cold and unbothered. “Spit it out.”

The man hesitated, shifting on his feet. “It’s… her fingernails, sir.”

A sharp silence followed those words. Sylus stopped mid-sentence his pen freezing in place. Slowly, he set it down, his jaw tightening. He didn’t like what was being implied. He refused to acknowledge it.

“Don’t play games with me” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “What are you saying?”

The man swallowed stepping forward with a small bag in his trembling hands. Inside, nestled among dirt and blood, were pieces of fingernails—yours.

Sylus stared at the bag, his expression unreadable. Something dark flickered behind his eyes but he didn’t move, didn’t react, except for the faint tightening of his jaw. “This doesn’t prove anything” he said coolly, his voice sharp as glass. “She could’ve broken them off herself.”

The man flinched. “Sir… you know that’s not—”

“I said” Sylus cut him off, his eyes narrowing dangerously “it doesn’t prove anything.”

The man fell silent but the air in the room shifted, thick with unspoken dread. Sylus’s mind raced, the tension creeping into his chest. He refused to believe it. You were too strong, too smart to fall into something like this. But doubt gnawed at him. He crushed it buried it under layers of ice, refusing to let it take root.

Days passed, and more pieces were found. Little by little, pieces of you scattered across Onychinus like breadcrumbs leading to a nightmare he didn’t want to face. A lock of your hair. A fragment of your skin. The reports kept coming and Sylus’s temper grew colder, sharper. He snapped at his men at anyone who dared to mention what they all knew but didn’t dare say out loud.

“She’s fine” Sylus would say whenever another part of you was found, his voice as hard as steel. “You’re all idiots. She’s playing a game. She’ll show up.”

But he knew. Deep down, he knew.

Then came the day they found your head.

The moment Sylus laid eyes on it, something inside him snapped. Your lifeless face, pale and bloodied, with a twisted smile carved across your lips, stared back at him. His hands clenched into fists, trembling with a fury so raw it threatened to consume him. His men stood back none daring to approach knowing full well the storm that was brewing inside their leader.

And then they found the message. It was simple, scrawled in blood across a torn piece of your clothing:

“I’m always watching.”

One of his enemies. The very traitor he had been hunting lurking in the shadows had taken you from him. They had taken the one weakness he never admitted out loud not even to himself. But now, looking at your head—at the cruel mockery of your death, the message taunting him, daring him to act—he couldn’t deny it anymore.

You were his weakness. The one thing that made him feel something other than cold, ruthless control.

And now… you were gone.

For the first time in his life, Sylus felt guilt. Genuine, gut-wrenching guilt. Regret settled in his chest like a poison, choking him, making it hard to breathe. He had pushed you away. He had let his pride, his work, his goddamn arrogance get in the way and now, because of him, you had suffered. You had died. Alone.

His blood boiled, the rage building inside him, so powerful it felt like it would tear him apart from the inside. He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart with his bare hands. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Sylus couldn’t afford to show that kind of weakness.

Instead, he stood there staring at the message, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. His fingers twitched, longing to crush something to destroy the people who had done this. But he didn’t move. He was still. Cold. Dead inside.

“Clean it up” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper but it held a lethal edge. “and get out.”

His men moved quickly, gathering the remains and clearing the area their eyes downcast, none daring to look at him. They knew better.

Sylus stood there, alone, his hands still trembling. For the first time he didn’t feel in control. He didn’t feel like the unshakable, unstoppable leader of Onychinus. He felt… lost. Empty.

He had always told himself that you didn’t matter. That you were just a fling, a distraction. But now, staring at the empty space where your head had been, he realized how wrong he had been.

You had mattered. You had mattered more than anything else in this godforsaken world and now… you were gone.

And it was his fault.

Sylus’s fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms until they bled. His vision blurred with rage, the weight of his mistake crushing him from all sides.

He would make them pay. Every single one of them. He would tear them apart piece by piece, just like they had done to you. He would make them suffer. But no matter how much blood he spilled, no matter how many bodies he left in his wake, it wouldn’t change the truth.

He had lost you and he would never forgive himself for that.

[tasiawrites]

Slashers and their black partner getting their hair and nails done

ft. Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Jason Voorhes, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair and Billy Loomis + Stu Matcher

contains: general fluff, poly Ghostface (i think that's it idk let me know)

Brahms Heelshire

you had to sneak out at 3 am even to be able to leave to get them done in the first place.

did three days worth of food prep only to be back in under 26 hours

Brahms was NOT happy and wanted to hurt you but then his brain clicked

loves the feeling of your nails on his scalp, might forgive you (if you give him some extra kisses)

likes playing with your hair, even if you say no you owe him

will allow you to get them done every two months ONLY because he likes the feeling of you playing in his hair with your nails done.

"kiss?" Brahms asked in his childlike voice as he stood at the foot of your bed later that night. you rolled your eyes at his voice decision after his behavior earlier but allowed him into your bed for late-night cuddles. you placed a few kisses on his porcelain mask. "I'm sorry for leaving without telling you Brahmsy," you coaxed running your fingers through his hair as he settled in next to you. 

Micheal Myers

didn't even notice you were gone until he did the math, trips to the store DO NOT take 10 hours

hoe where is you at?

He kinda sulking when you get back

likes the hair didn't notice the nails AT ALL

pulls a single braid every chance he gets and he pulls it HARD

he learns that 10+ hours out means a new hairstyle to fuck with, sometimes he follows you

"oh come on Michael," you rolled your eyes at the sulking man on your couch. he doesn't even look at you until you stand directly in front of him. he ignores you and you eventually give up and continue about your evening. that is until you felt a tug on a braid that slipped out of your bonnet. a hard tug. you turn to find a smug-looking Micheal with the end in his hand. well, at least he's not mad. it took him until the third day to realize your nails were done.

Billy Loomis and Stu Matcher

you did tell them, they just forgot 

you come back and they acting like you went missing for nine years

Stu loves the hair while Billy loves the nails

you spend the next few hours giving kisses and being showered with praise

every other time you go at least one of them goes with you

you walked into Stu's house slightly confused at the silence. you were just about to call one of them when Billy came barreling down the stairs half dressed in his Ghostface costume. "um.. hi?" you tried as he quickly began searching you for injuries as Stu came down the stairs asking too many questions in quick succession.  after calming them down, you sat between them as they played with your hair and nails respectively. 

Thomas Hewitt

The Texas heat was making your hair hard to maintain so you asked Luda Mae if you could get a few days off so you could fix that

you had to go three towns over to get it done

to thank her you got Hoyt to drop Luda Mae off so you both could manicures and pedicures

Thomas was too excited to see you after three days to realize your hair was done

when he did he spent an unnatural amount of time just, looking at you??

he's so in love

also loves it when your nails massage his head, especially after a long day at work

misses you every time you leave but he gets to see a new hairstyle so it balances out, he does miss playing with your natural hair tho

"hi Tommy," you whisper as he crawls into bed next to you. he gathers you up into his arms and you give him a soft smile. he connects his lips to yours and you run your fingers through his hair and rub on his scalp. he shudders and a low sound of approval climbs out of his throat.

Vincent Sinclair

I mean he doesn't stop you from going anywhere, he's just pouty about it

spends the night you spent in the other town making wax figurines of you

he's so happy when you get back

you get your nails the color of his eye, a lovely brown with a pretty white design to accompany it.

absolutely obsessed with your hair. 

like he likes the nails but by god does he love your hair

the next time you go hes vibrating with excitement, he can't wait to see what you do next

"Vinny?" you call as you walk down into the basement. it did not take long for Vincent to come around the corner looking as excited as someone with a mask on his face could look. with hasty footsteps, he approached you hands fidgeting in excitement. it only took a small nod from you to have the lanky man all over you. he took your hand in his and watched the nails closely before his fingers played with your hair. the next morning you found a small wax figurine of yourself on your bedroom side table.

Jason Voorhees

poor baby, you almost gave him a heart attack

he thought you left him

sulky large man

when you come back he's like O-O 

very happy, thinks you're so pretty

puts flowers in your hair and is very gentle with it

likes to see your nails when you hold his hands

please give him a heads-up next time

he waits with wildflowers for you to return

Jason's fingers clumsily placed another flower in your hair. it dislodged another one that you quickly caught and handed back to him. it took a few more flowers for him to be satisfied and when he was he gave a grunt and lifted you to your feet. "ready to go home?" you asked the large man as he intertwined his finger with yours happily rubbing his thumb over the smoothness of your nails.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

this has nothing to do with the poll, it has been stewing in my drafts for a minute

POLY GHOSTFACE IS THE ONLY CORRECT OPTION good night

n e way lemme go study for my exams

[grapejuicestyless]

could we have a story that warms up my heart and makes me feel gushy and mushy and eeeeeeek!!!!!!! I’m in need of something to ‘awwwwwww’ to and I feel like you’re perfect for that 🥹🫶🏻

Tiny Moves

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: You and JJ have only been friends for a little while, but to him it feels like he’s known you forever and he’s so sure he’ll always want you forever. Inspired by the song Tiny Moves by Bleachers. I wrote this with JJ Maybank in mind because I’ve been on an OBX kick recently but it could definitely be rewritten to fit other people!

JJ Maybank was a notorious man whore, to put it delicately. Sleeping with any tourist who even batted their eyelashes at him, and any other girl from the cut who was desperate enough to sneak away from the party for a blurred night with the blonde.

He didn’t mind the status, being the guy they all went to. In his mind, no strings attached was the best thing for him. It meant no pressure to feel things and no guilt for turning down any girl who had stupidly fallen for him.

That was, until he met her. Y/n Y/l/n, a friend of a friend and his former lab partner from middle school. He didn’t mean to fall for her, but then again, who really plans on falling in love, let alone with some girl JJ wouldn’t even show up to biology class for when he was still on the brink of becoming a teenager.

He remembers the messy braids tied in her hair and the way the safety glasses left faint marks behind on her face after long hours spent leaning over a plastic beaker mixing different colored fluids to make a rainbow.

Back then, he never really paid her any attention. What she did or didn’t do never peaked his interest, he would much rather have spent his time with his cheek pressed against the palm of his hands while he looked out the window like he was in prison. Now, suddenly and without warning, it did matter.

JJ wanted all of her tiny moves, he wanted to forever remember the silly marks from the glasses on her face or how her nose would scrunch and the skin by her eyes would crinkle when she would smile. It made his chest feel funny, wanting all of the silly little nonsensical things from her, things that would never give him any kind of personal gain but all things he couldn’t stop praying for.

He remembers how she stopped by one day without warning in the middle of January, stumbling over the piles of leaves piled up by the front steps of the chateau. She was wearing a soft white dress that swayed around her ankles in the wind and had blue painted on her finger nails. She was just giving back his notebook he let her borrow when she was out of class with a cold a few days prior to her visit, and truthfully he had just stolen Pope’s notes and taken the credit, but the soft smile on her face and the dimples by her cheeks made it impossible for him to confess the truth.

When she left, he felt the insatiable burning in his chest and the intense pounding of his heart against his ribcage. He placed Kiara’s hand over his chest wearily, only driving himself into more of a panic as he declared to her that he believed he was having a heart attack. He felt so funny and sluggish that he was so sure of it, but Kiara only swatted his hand away and laughed with her whole stomach as she realized his feelings before him.

“Jayj, you’re in love!” She said it so loudly, he had to put a hand over her mouth and hush her until she promised not to say anything to anyone.

And how could he have not seen it? The tiniest moves she made, it was like watching his whole world shake. A simple smile or a polite giggle from across the campfire at one of his half decent jokes and he was redder than the sky at sundown and hotter than the lively flame in front of him.

He doesn’t know how it happened, or why he suddenly decided to start paying her any kind of special attention in their friendship, or even why it was her. He always thought he’d end up with Kiara because at least if he was unloveable, him and her had made a pact to get married if they hadn’t met anyone by thirty. But now, all of his past meant nothing to him when he had the something he didn’t even know he was looking to find.

“Stay still.” Her voice ordered playfully, taking my wrist in her hands and blowing a cool breeze across my fingertips.

The overwhelming smell of nail polish mixed with the addictive smell of freshness in her room, her pillows fluffy and her blankets piled all over her bed. I knew that John B was surely going to give me a hard time when I walked into his backyard with bright orange nails, but when Y/n finished up her own hands and looked up at me all doe eyed asking if I would let her paint mine the same color so we could match, I didn’t even think about the names he would call me before I said yes. All I could think about was how happy she would be if I were to give in.

“Smells so bad.” I gagged, trying to pull my hands from her grip playfully, nose crinkling at the chemical like smell that covered my hands.

She laughed, throwing her head back as she grabbed both of my hands this time, despite one of them already being dry and shook them in her own hands.

“You’ll mess it up you dork!” She leaned forward, practically laughing into my chest at my faux hurt that I painted across my face. I laughed too, but not nearly as hard. I was too focused on her.

I’d only really been friends with Y/n for a year. She had only started tagging along just last June, and yet, she consumed all of my thoughts more than anyone I’d ever known. I wanted to be around her all the time, make her laugh just so I could hear the breathiness in her voice as she claimed she couldn’t breathe because her ribs hurt too much. I’d only really known her for a year, but it felt like we’d been intertwined like this forever, and I’m certain I’ll feel like this forevermore.

It was like Kiara had told me in January when she first came by in her pretty white dress and a sweet smile on her face, I was in love and I loved her.

“I love you.” Her giggles sputtered off into one final breath of air squeaking from her throat, and her eyes stretched in a way that confirmed that what I had said was out loud and not just the phrase I repeated to her in my head over and over again every time we spoke.

And my whole world shook violently when I got no response, feeling my heart breaking for that silent second and only hearing the ringing in my ears accompanied by the humming of the fan in the corner of her room.

And then, suddenly, her hands were on my cheeks, lips pressed to mine and eyelashes tickling my cheeks as they fluttered shut. She tasted like strawberry chapstick and minty toothpaste, I couldn’t help but feel completely consumed by her when all I could feel was her. Her hands, her lips, her coconut shampoo.

My hands found the back of her neck, massaging the skin between my fingers to deepen the press of her lips to mine like if I weren’t, she would slip away and I would wake from this blissful dream of mine.

When we pulled away, I found her eyes looking straight into mine, lips swollen and pink from where we were connected just a moment ago.

Then, suddenly, she was melting into a fit of giggles that bubbled from her chest, eyes closing as her forehead rested against my shoulder. For a second, I thought she thought it was funny, but then I felt myself fall into the same static feelings of pure excitement, happiness and love that she was feeling. That same funny feeling spreading from my chest to ever limb in my body until I was buzzing with it, blushing until I was sure my whole face was beet red.

“Why are you laughing?” I laughed along with her, pulling her head to rest against mine with both of my hands, feeling her moving against my forehead with each giggle that escaped her lips. Her hands found mine, pulling them down to her lap where she could brush her hands over my knuckles and smile at polish, which was now worn away.

“You smudged it!” She breathed out like it was the funniest thing in the world, and I knew it felt like it to her because of the leftover nerves and giddiness resting in her stomach, the same fluttery feeling I felt as well.

“Eh, you can fix them, right?” I didn’t let her answer, pressing my lips to hers again and holding her hands in mine. I’d only just gotten a taste and I was already addicted.

Maybe I was having a heart attack, but I wouldn’t know the difference with all the love pumping through my body. At least if I was, I would die knowing I finally got the girl.

And all of her tiny moves.

[loveing-eyes]

say i love you for the first time (seprate) sero, shinsou , mina , kiri , deku , bakugo, denki , todoroki

"saying i love you for the first time"

hanta sero

•he would be the one to say of first without hesitation around 3 months into the relationship

•you were laying on his bed just talking about life when you sat up smiling at him and laid a kiss on his cheek

•he smirked and said i love you senorita

•you froze for a moment staring in shock turning into the shade of Kirishima's hair while his smirk grew wider

•after a moment you realized what happened and hugged him saying you loved him too

•most of that evening was spent just cuddling in sero's bed

denki kaminari

• you said it first from him being an idiot and getting hurt at the training camp around 3 weeks into the relationship

•hearing from jirou that your boyfriend got hurt had you freaking out you

•instantly had her take you to where he was passed out

staring at him and waiting for him to wake up was absolute torture the hour went by slower than the first day of school

• and when he did wake up he was groggy and you pumping on him crying didn't help that whatsoever

•confused him, even more, when you sobbed out "i love you ok you idiot don't do this shit again"

•suprisingly he didn't shortcircuit and quickly wrapped his arms around you in an attempt you console you

•"i love you too y/n/n" he would whisper back into your ear after a moment when he felt you had calmed down enough

eijiou kirishima

•manly man said it first during a bakusquad hangout and 4 months into the relationship

• most of the 1-a class was just hanging out in the common area including you and kiri who were off just getting popcorn just talking about the date you had planned

•he just smiled and blurted it out "I love you" realized what he did when half the room stopped talking and you froze

•cue Kirishima turning the same shade as his hair

•you put down the bowl of popcorn grabbing Kirishima's hand and kissing him on the cheek "i love you too sharky" you teased and most of the girls gushed as most of the guys groaned and told you to get a room

•very nice the date the next day was wonderful

shoto todoroki

•you said it first out of worry he didn't feel the same way around 13 months into the relationship

•you knew things would be very slow when you started dating shoto but after over a year and he hadn't said I love you it had taken 2 and a half months to so much as hold hands

•you felt like he loved you and you knew you were his first real s/o so you were patient but you felt insecure about it after 10 months and you had made barely any progress

•you distanced yourself a bit and shoto barely noticed you felt like he had been happier you felt stupid for thinking he was happier but something told you he was and you didn't know who to tell

•then came the next 3 months of a downward spiral and shoot realized you weren't just having a bad week

• finally you worked up the courage to tell asui and she told you to just be honest with him and if he doesn't feel that way just leave him and try to stay friends so you decided to do it

• finally you walked to todorokis room knocking wait for him to open and let you in

•sitting on the floor next to him you explained how you felt leaving out the fact it was because he never said I love you

•he felt confused and was mad at himself thinking he had done something wrong

•you had to explain it was from something he hadn't done

•which confused him even more making him think you distanced yourself cause you hadn't had sex yet

•which made you feel bad and apologize and tell him it was from something he hadn't said

•which brought you back to square one

•"shoto its cause i dont know if you love me I know l love you but its not extremely easy when your monotone"

he sat for a moment staring with a blank expression "well of course I love you I wouldn't be with you if I didn't" straight forward to the point

•like a weight was lifted off your shoulders you launched yourself at your boyfriend

•he wrapped his arm around you softly laying his head on your shoulder "I'll try to say it more dear"

katsuki bakugo

•you said it firt in the middle of an argument around 3 months in

•you knew it he knew it everyone knew it katsuki was a total asshole with anger issues

•though no one expected he would get in a screaming match with his girlfriend's best friend (Denki) while she was out

•and when she got back and found out she wasn't happily marching straight to her boyfriend's room demanding an answer

•which he refused to give her one until they were in a screaming match themselves"it doesn't matter just know I had a reason"

•"well what was the reason" she wanted to know what would cause him to lose his shit "he said something" bakugo groanedd "well what did he say" y/n whispered taking a seat on the edge of his bed "it doesn't matter" bakugo groaned shoving a pillow over his face "yes it does you idiot I want to know why the bo I love screamed at my best friend"

•upon hearing "i love" he shot up "you love me" his girlfriend nodded "did you not know that" he shook his head "he was talking about if how I didn't ask you out he would totally be with you right now"

•y/n moved closer to him hugging bakugo "katsu dont worry ok I love you and only you" she whispered before kissing him softly on the forehead "I love you too idiot" he mubled hugging her back tightly

mina ashido

•she said it first during a one-on-one sleepover 2 1/5 months in

•her sneaking in your room at 11pm saying she was bored and missed her girlfriend and laid in your bed watching tv with you

•during commercials she tuned down the volume talking about random things before peppering your face with soft kisses whilst cuddling

•in the middle of giggles she wrapped her arms pulling you closer to her whispering "I love you" in your ear barely audible

•cue you smiling and tightly hugging her back "i love you too" the two of you would gaze into each other's eyes smiling knowing you met "the one"

•short quick and sweet little sleepover with 2 lovers always wonderful

izuku midoriya

•he attempted to say it first around 1 1/2 months in key word attempt

•you two were supposed to just have a cute study date which went to hand holding and not talking just scrolling on your phones to you laying in his lap fidgeting with his free hand

•glancing up you smiled adoringly at his concentrated face trying to do his homework your finger grazed over on few of his scares

•smiling you pulled his hand closer to your face you peppers soft kisses onto his scares which made him look down at you confused for a moment before realizing what you were doing

•"i love you...- uhhh your eyes they're very pretty" he flushed a bright pink and you pushed yourself up off his lap "zuku I love you too don't worry" that made him flush even more and you kissed his forehead before laying back down on his lap now with his hand slowly going through your hair as he attempted to calm himself down

shinsou hitoshi

•he said it first hanging out 2 months In

•everthing was ready for movie night snacks displayed on your table you were dressed comfortably and your boyfriend was still picking out te movie he wanted to choose horror thinking it would freak you out

•you grabbed a few more pillows laying them on the floor pulling shinshou down with you laying on his chest as he turned on an American horror movie "it" apparently it was about clowns

• you were fine until the maggot doll showed up and you shoved your head into shinsous neck knocking the air out of him "ok babe you know I love you but never do that again" he groaned sitting up and rubbed his neck

•"you love me" you would stare in shock for a moment and he would realize his half-assed love confession "yes and a shame it was only said cause you almost killed me" he would joke

•"i love you too Toshi" you whispered as he pulled you closer "good good now help me pick a move that won't result in me getting a bruised neck"

[i-cant-sing]

Imagine it’s yn and a oc. Who’s getting flipped off in this scenario

Well, first of all- its me and my crush today because that bitch.... I think I have gotten over him with the way he treated me today. I asked him to bring me notes and he's like okay, and then when I went in today- he was like cr7ng so indifferent to me

Like I looked good today, I spent an hour and a half on my whole look and this bitch didn't even have the audacity to like blush or something. Okay maybe he didn't say anything because there were supervisors standing over us but still... when I asked him about the notes, he said in a slightly annoyed voice "I sent you the PowerPoint presentation" and I was like ??? I already had the presentations, I wanted the notes. And he's like "😮‍💨 are you coming again tomorrow?" And he said it like he was doing me a big favour and I said idk, maybe. But I'm actually not because I have fycking finals c9ming up, does this mf think I have all day, everyday????

Anyways, not that I expect him to like ask me about my day, but if he texts me, I AM NOT TEXTING BACK ANYMORE. This bitch- I looked so hot, 2 of his guy friends looked me up and down as I walked over to him.

Bitch ass, why is he sending me mixed signals??? Like if he's not interested, why is he walking over and visiting me with his friend DURING MY TEST and being all sneaky as he whispers "Hey, need any help?🥰" and then giving me the coldest shoulder today.

-

Also, this pic is giving Y/n and Magnus because Magnus is like "what do you mean you want to leave me???? Don't you love me???? You can't possibly want to throw our love away-" and reader just flips him off.

I can also see Dimitri on the receiving end often because this man is just crossing all the boundaries cause he's a fool in love. He's just speedwalking behind reader who's just stomping away angrily "why are you mad at me, darling? I did exactly what you wanted. What? Didn't you say you missed cooking food for the old lady who lived next to your apartment? What was so wrong with me having my men bring her here and live in the quarters downstairs? No, she's not aware that she is going to live here forever now but look- how much time does she have left anyways?? She's 94 for fucks sake-" and reader just flips him off.

Oh it's 1000% Y/n and Theodore all the time because Theo is teaching reader Russian maths because being kidnapped does not excuse you from getting an education. And Russian maths is already hard as it is, but learning it in SIGN LANGUAGE IS ANOTHER LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY. Theo is just like "Come on, focus. What sign is suppose to come here? I- don't DOSE OFF! Y/N! WHAT SIGN?" and reader just sticks her middle finger up in his face.

[drewharrisonwriter]

On the Mend - Ch 1: Not Today

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: You were having a really, really bad day in the midst of the scorching Austin summer, and seeing your ex boyfriend, Joel Miller, is the last thing you need.

Word count: 829

A/N: (EDIT 09/17/2023) Okay so I heard ya'll! LMAO and decided to turn this into a mini-series. Not sure exactly how things will play out for these two, but I've written a part 2 and decided to call this mini-series On the Mend. LOL hope you like it. This is a one-shot for now, not sure if and how to continue this. I just got this idea recently and wanted to write it.

The merciless sun bore down as she parked her car. The Austin summer had been relentless, and today, it seemed as if even the universe was conspiring against her. 

It had been a thoroughly miserable day. Work had been a disaster; she'd spent hours redoing half of a project her co-worker had botched because she was still hungover from the previous night. 

The Texas summer heat, relentless and unforgiving, only added to her misery. As if fate had a personal grudge against her, she realized she'd left her house keys on her office desk when she was already halfway home. 

She sighed in defeat and turned her car around to retrieve them. All of this was compounded by her lingering morning sickness, a term she found deceptive as it had resurfaced with a vengeance upon entering her third trimester. She had naively believed she had bid it farewell for good when she'd crossed into the second trimester.

"Whoever called it morning sickness should be shot for lying," she grumbled, attempting to quell the rising nausea that threatened to surface.

Dressed in biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt she kept in her car for emergencies, she got out and beelined to the frozen aisle for a popsicle stick and savored the brief respite offered by the melting ice cold treat.

She sighed in relief and grabbed a pushcart. Her only mission in the store was to grab some Oreos, pickles, and frozen pizza to satisfy her cravings that were so intense, she literally cried in the car on her way over. 

As she rounded a corner in the store, she was suddenly face to face with the last person she wanted to see: Joel Miller. 

Great. She thought to herself. Couldn't have been on a better day. 

Ah, Joel fucking Miller.

The man who had once been the love of her life.

The same man who had taken her on the most memorable first date she'd ever experienced, and had filled the past five years of her life with the kind of joy she'd never known before.

But this was also the man who made it clear to her months ago, after five whole years of being together and living together for three, that he has no plans of marrying her and having a family with her. 

She and Joel were arguing at the time when he said it. 

--

In the midst of their emotional clash, she couldn't help but speak her mind, her frustration boiling over. 

"Joel," she began, her voice trembling with pent-up feelings, "if you get mad at every damn little thing, what's going to happen if we were married? That's not the life I want, and it's not the husband I need."

Joel's eyes flashed with anger as he retorted, "Of course it’s not! And who told you I was going to marry you?" His words cut like a knife, and she felt her heart shatter into pieces. 

"We never talked about it, what put the idea into your head?" he continued, his tone harsh and unyielding. 

Her jaw went slack in shock, as tears welled up in her eyes as she choked back her emotions. 

"But I thought we--," she whispered, her voice barely audible, she couldn't even continue her thoughts when Joel cut her off.

"No." He barked. "You knew from the start that Sarah is my priority. Always was and always will be. I'm not going through the whole marriage thing again." And have our hearts broken all over again when you realize that we're not what you want, he wanted to add. But instead he allowed the silence to linger. 

Silent tears slipped from her eyes but she did not respond. 

Instead she stood up and went into the closet and started packing. So be it, she told herself as she zipped the last of her bags before going into the bathroom to hastily shove her toiletries into another bag. 

She stopped when she pulled one of the lower drawers open. The positive pregnancy test sticks under her box of tampons glared at her, and for a brief moment she contemplated telling Joel. But when she heard the front door slam shut, she pulled herself together and shoved the sticks in the bag as well. 

--

That was seven months ago and she hasn't seen nor heard from Joel since. 

Their eyes met for a moment before his gaze fell upon her very round baby bump. Acting on instinct, she hastily placed her handbag in the shopping cart, a futile attempt to hide it from him, though it didn't do much given the fact that she looked like she had tucked an entire watermelon under her shirt.

She grimaced, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she locked eyes with him once more, she began walking backwards, her eyes not leaving him and before he could say anything, she had rounded the corner and all he heard was, “Nope. Not today!”

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Ch. 1: Control

“Ouch! No no no- definitely too much moon powder!” I hastily wipe my hands on my dusty skirt as I attempt to put out the purple flames coming out of my cauldron. I’m attempting a healing potion for my cat Twilight, but accidentally misread the spellbook. Mom’s spellbook.

But I’m too late to cover my tracks- I can already hear footsteps approaching outside!

“Magica! What have I told you about practicing magic?” My father yells from the doorway.

Twilight hisses and scrambles out of the kitchen, leaving me to fend for myself.

I cringe and turn around slowly. “Not to?”

My father, a tall buff man wearing a hunter’s cap, stomps into the room. “Yes! What if the Royal Guard was passing by? I don’t want you getting locked away!”

“But I don’t live on the Isle of the Lost, so magic is allowed here!”

“They don’t know-!” He sighs and rubs his head. “Since they don’t know about your mother, it’s best to just keep your magic hidden.”

“But dad, I’m finally getting the hang of this! I think I might write to Fairy Godmother and tell her about my magic-!”

“No!” My father stomps forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Magica, you’re my only daughter. If they found out you’re the descendant of a villain they could lock you up. I- I only want what’s best for you, understand? I know you’re proud of this gift and are a very talented witch, but sometimes it’s best to be normal.”

“But- but-!” I can feel my aunt’s temper boiling inside me. “Why should I be different?”

I wrap my cloak around me and storm out into the woods. There’s a secret spot I have near the stream that runs into the Enchanted Lake. It’s a small clearing big enough to practice my magic safely. After I sit down on a boulder I start tearing up, torn between being mad at my father for silencing my magic and being ashamed of being the descendant of an evil witch.

Yup, that’s me. Magica Sanderson, secret daughter of the infamous Sarah Sanderson. From what I’ve gathered, my mother seduced the Evil Queen’s Huntsman so Winifred Sanderson could steal one of her potions. The Huntsman became my father, and when he found out about me he immediately brought me to Snow White’s kingdom to keep me from becoming a VK. But the one thing he couldn’t avoid was the fact that I inherited my Aunt Winnie’s magical talent and my mother’s bewitching looks. I have my mother’s pale fair skin, white-blonde hair, and slim figure. I also inherited my Aunt Winnie’s bright green eyes and Aunt Mary’s love for Cheetos. I can’t help it- I’m a halfblood witch!

Father has tried to suppress my family ties by homeschooling me in our woodland cottage and dressing me in flowy pink dresses just like the goody-two-shoes kids wear at Auradon Prep. When I was old enough to control my powers, father brought me to the Auradon kingdom to meet Prince Ben, son of Beauty and the Beast. Immediately we became inseparable best friends, always causing mischief despite our parents’ disapproval. One time we slipped a hiccup potion into Chad Charming’s drink during a gala social, and spent the next half hour trying not to burst out laughing when he tried hiccuping at Audrey to ask her out! I told Ben about my powers, and he promised to keep it secret. He knows I’m nothing like my mother or aunts, and that I’d never try to hurt anyone.

But even so Ben’s acceptance can’t help fill the gap that separates me from the other kids in the village. I’m still different no matter how hard I try because I don’t have the arrogant, uppity attitude that the other kids have.

Mother, why do I have to be so different? Could I have at least one true friend who won’t disappear?

“Meow?” A voice calls.

I look over and see that Twilight has returned with another black cat- one with recognizable yellow eyes.

I sniff. “Hey, Binx. How’s it been?”

The two felines slink between my legs and rub their noses on my boots.

“Been fine, but from what Twilight’s told me you’re in a bit of a pickle. I know your dad means well, but even I agree that suppressed magic is never a good idea.”

I stop twirling pink sparks on my fingers and give Binx an odd look. “Why?”

Binx glances around nervously. “Well… I’ve heard stories of past maidens that try to bottle up their magic until any sudden breakdown can cause an outburst. Do you remember Elsa of Arendelle?”

The memory of seeing former Queen Elsa’s meltdown on tv runs through my head, and I have to agree that holding back my magic could lead to something worse.

“You’re right, Binx. But I can’t just do some tricks and expect the whole kingdom to be ok with it. I could be sent to Auradon Prep, or worse- the Isle of the Lost! And magic’s forbidden there so I’d be powerless! That and I’d have to live with-” I shutter. “My mom.”

Binx hisses and Twilight swipes a paw against my cheek. “No you won’t. We wouldn’t let that happen, and your father would protect you. I suggest you cool down a bit and then go back to the house.”

I sigh. “I guess so. But how long will I have to hide like this? All my life I’ve followed the rules and been nice, so I’m not wicked… am I?”

“No, no,” Binx assures with a soft voice. “It’s not that, it’s just that normal folks are unsettled by the strange and unusual. It’s like you said, you’ll be sent to Auradon Prep. You don’t want that, do you?”

I gag. “Ugh, no! Ben says all the people there are stuck up and half-witted fools! I would rather eat a toadstool dipped in boysenberry sauce than associate with those idiots!” I stand up and start walking back to the cottage. “Sorry Binx, but right now I better head back to father before supper. I’ll save you some fish!”

[factorydefaultlu]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Wincest, weecest, >1k, not explicit.

Also posted on my AO3

School bag in hand, he leaves home in the early morning, waving goodbye with an absent minded smile.

The door to the impala creaked as Sam popped open the door, ready to head into school. Dean watched as his brother ducked under the doorframe, he'd gotten so tall already. Sammy gave a half hearted wave and a “See you later, Dean.” before letting the door swing shut.

A breeze blew back into the car as the door clicked. The early autumn air chilled Dean to the bone despite the layers he was wearing. A knot in his stomach formed as he watched Sam disappear into the crowd of the other highschoolers.

Dean was happy to no longer have to attend school, he found it pedantic and useless. Sam seemed to like it though, and his grades certainly reflect that. The only thing that Dean didn't like about graduating was that he no longer had an eye on Sammy at all hours of the day.

Call it obsessive, or possessive, Dean would agree. He doesn't find shame in the fact that he wants to protect Sam. That's his baby brother, and Dean won't let a damn thing happen to him.

I watch him go, with a surge of that well known sadness, and I have to sit down for a while.

Dean finally looked down at the steering wheel once Sam was nowhere to be seen. A deep breath escaped his lips, a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. The knot in Dean's stomach grew tighter, and he needed to get out there.

Once he was finally on the road, Dean fished out the pack of cigarettes from the glove box. Sammy hated when he smoked, but right now he needs it. The smell should clear by the time Dean picks him up anyway.

Guilt still ate at him. For what? He didn't know. Dean would like to believe it was because he's smoking against Sammy's wishes, but he knew deeper down that it was much more than that.

The smoke burned his mouth and lit a fire in his chest. The tightness dissipated and by the time Dean made it back to the shitty motel, the cherry of the cigarette was burning the filter.

Dean stops himself from putting it out on the skin of his wrist.

The feeling that I'm losing him forever, while never really entering his world. I'm glad whenever I can share his laughter.

That sunny little boy.

The closer Sammy gets to 18, the more nervous Dean becomes. He knows that once Sam is a full fledged adult, that he'll pack and leave. Hell, he'd talked about it for years. Ever since he had that major growth spurt during the summer they spent at Bobby's. Sam was different. Sam was becoming a man.

Dean knows that Sam loves him. He knows that they're very different people and he knows that it's not personal. Yet he still feels guilty, like he'd run Sam off; made him mad in some way.

He was always mad nowadays. Dean remembered a time when he was his brother's whole world. That summer is burned into his soul, no creature on earth or in heaven nor hell could make him forget.

They'd spent half the summer in the watering hole just half a mile from Bobby's. The two would pack a cooler and walk down there early in the morning and just spend the day being kids. Acting how they were supposed to.

Little Sammy would insist they bring sunscreen and rattled off some sciencey blabber he'd read about in school. Something about UV rays and skin cancer.

A smile spread over Dean's lips as he remembered.

If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the sun warming his skin, smell the creek water and honeysuckle. Along with the sunscreen he so lovingly rubbed into Sam's skin.

Dean used to love helping Sammy apply sunscreen and aloe, his hands would linger on his brother's shoulders and the small of his back.

Now he wished he hadn't stuffed the cigarette into the ashtray. Dean deserved the burn for where his thoughts were heading.

Slipping through my fingers all the time. I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it.

Do I really know what's in his mind? Each time I think I'm close to knowing, he keeps on growing.

Memories are a funny thing. Tricky, and not always accurate to what really happened. Dean knows. He still likes his interpretation of that hot, humid summer night.

Sammy had turned 13 just a month prior and was already experiencing a massive growth spurt. He was still shorter than Dean, but his limbs were long. Awkward; It reminded Dean of a newborn fawn.

They'd forgotten sunscreen that day. Sammy got burned up something awful. He was being tough about it, but the way he flinched when putting his shirt back on made Dean's heart rabbit up.

He felt bad for enjoying how Sammy had to rely on him for a few days. How he had to have Dean help take his shirts on and off. Had to have him rub aloe on his scorched skin.

Sammy slept on his stomach for a week and Dean enjoyed laying next to him, ever so gently running his fingers along Sam's blisters. ‘My poor baby’ Dean had thought at the time.

He still thinks that way in all honesty.

[billthedrake]

GOALS (PART TWO)

Story idea by and collaboration with top son Turner (bimgm36@gmail.com).

[AUSTIN]

It was a shitty week.

It all started bright and early Monday morning. I had to get back to the suburbs for work, and Scott had to get into the office. I don't know exactly what I expected but Scott was definitely quiet and moody as we quickly got ready. There was no kiss goodbye, no hug even. Just a "see you at the gym" comment from him.

Only I didn't see him at the gym, not Tuesday. He'd sent me a text saying work stuff had come up and he'd have to reschedule. In itself, that wasn't a big deal. Scott Delahunt had prioritized the gym over the last year and a half, but he also had a demanding, important job. This wasn't the first time he couldn't make it.

But instead of his normal apologetic tone at our next meeting, the man was reserved.

"Everything OK?" I asked as I put on some more weights on the bench. At least Scott was channeling whatever moodiness he had into the lifts... he was on fire that day, actually. I wasn't sure what kind of conversation I was expecting in the gym. But his standoffishness was driving me crazy.

"Yeah," he said, looking at me with slightly wounded eyes. I could tell he wasn't mad at me, but he was really upset about the sex. "Just been busy at work is all."

I'd have to leave it at that. "Well, you're looking really strong in here today."

"Thanks," he muttered. Then got back on the bench for another set. All business.

The kicker for the week was that my dad came to visit Friday. Not me specifically, but he and my stepmom Janet were in Nashville for a weekend on the town. So I went to meet them for dinner. Lots of small talk, lots of Dad's wisecracks about Nashville being "sin city," and the usual blustery questions about when I was gonna get a serious girlfriend.

I answered as well as I could, but Dad wouldn't let up. "For Chrissake Austin, you're 24."

My stepmom actually came to the rescue. "For goodness sake, Frank, leave the poor boy alone."

I'd held off on any other Friday plans, but Dad and Janet clearly wanted to hit the country bars on their own. As we left the restaurant, Dad stretched out his hand for a handshake. "Good to see you, son." I knew I wouldn't see him again until Christmas.

The whole ride home I was mad at him. Then I was mad at myself for letting him get to me. What did I expect? There's that saying about insanity and expecting different results.

I was mopey when I got home. I cracked open a beer, which I rarely do at home. I wondered why I didn't have the guts to tell Dad that I'm gay. I'd spent my college years very much in the closet and enjoying secret sex with my professor. I loved playing that role for him, the "straight" jock who'd nail his ass at least twice a week.

Now that I'd moved back to Brentwood, I decided I wouldn't necessarily hide the gay thing but I wouldn't advertise it either. I'm not sure what made me be forthcoming with Scott Delahunt. Maybe I felt I could trust him. Maybe unconsciously I wanted something to happen. I was glad it did, only there was a good chance I'd lost him as a client and more importantly as a friend. Fuck... business and pleasure definitely shouldn't mix.

I picked up my phone. It wasn't too late, and I knew I had to call. Jason was my best friend at UT, a teammate who I felt like I could share anything with. Except one thing...

"Austin!" came his response as he answered, seeing my name on the caller ID. "What's up, man?" We called each other all the time, but not usually at this hour.

"Hi man... listen... I know it's out of the blue to ring you up, but I had something I gotta tell ya."

"Everything OK, Aust'?"

"Yeah, I'm OK. I just... well, I wanted to let you know that I'm gay, Jason," I blurted out.

There was silence on the other end. Then: "For real?"

My heart pounded. Here was my best bud in the whole world and he still was even after college and me moving to Nashville and him to Atlanta. And I had no idea how he'd take it. He was a typical jock, I guess, and very much a pussy hunter. "For real. Sorry I didn't have the guts to tell you before."

"You know you're my brother, man," he said. "Right?"

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, bro. Thanks."

I could sense an awkward pause on the other end. "Listen, bro... I hate to cut the conversation short, but I'm actually on a date right now."

"Oh fuck!" I blurted. "Sorry, man." I'd been so absorbed in my own drama.

He chuckled. "It's all good," he said. "But we'll catch up this weekend, OK?"

"All right. Sorry again, Jase. Catch ya later.

That conversation was what I needed. I don't know… it cleared the air some. The next morning I decided I needed some relief for my morning wood. As I made my coffee, I fired up one of the apps to see what was on there.

I got a message. "Hi man. You really discreet?"

I typed back. "I always am."

I waited a sec then got another message. "Well, you're really hot."

"Thanks," I replied.

"I bet you get a lot of guys telling you that."

"My fair share," I admitted.

"OK if I share my pics?" His profile was pretty minimal, which itself wasn't a bad thing. Married or unavailable men didn't usually put much on their profiles, so you never knew if you were getting a troll or a stud.

"Yeah, sure," I said. I made it clear it was noncommittal.

He showed me his pictures. He wasn't Scott Delahunt hot, but I decided not to be picky. I was horny and in the mood to get off. The man seemed like a regular suburban guy in his late 40s.

"Looks good," I wrote.

"I don't bottom, but I'd love to suck your dick this morning," he wrote.

It was to the point. I often like to chat a good bit with guys, since it helps me suss out if they're on the level and figure out if there's sexual compatibility. Also for me sex is in large part a mental thing, and I love the build up before the act.

That said, I know it's not the etiquette to be too chatty on the apps, and this dude seemed to have a very limited time. He gave off that lying to a wife about making a Home Depot run kind of vibe. I told him to come over.

When he showed up I was a little thrown off guard that he didn't look exactly like his pictures. He had a goatee and was much grayer than his photo. That itself was actually a turn on, but he was also overweight... not fat, but girthy in his jeans and T-shirt.

"Dang, dude, you're hot," he said as he stepped in. At least his voice was deep and masculine. Then seeing my reaction, he prompted. "Is this gonna work man?"

I could tell he was excited for this, and I relented. "As long as you know how to suck dick," I blustered as I pulled down my shorts and gripped my dick to prime the pump. I hadn't fully lost my erection and was still feeling worked up.

I watched his big body scramble down and get down to service me. This wasn't Married Guy's first cock. He explored me with his tongue for just enough to work me up, then he took me into his mouth. It was a skilled, no-nonsense blow job. Two minutes tops. If that. I looked down and watched that silver-haired head bob up and down. I conjured up a fantasy about my high school math teacher. Then it happened. I came. It felt great.

Married Guy suckled me and gave a final soft kiss to the head as he pulled off. "Guess you needed that, huh, buddy?" he chuckled. I could tell he was proud he'd gotten me off so quickly.

"Pretty much," I said as I reached down to pull up my shorts.

He stood up and rearranged the boner in his jeans. "Well hit me up again if you need that bad boy taken care of," he said. He was clearly thrilled at playing with a man on the side. "Can't always get away from the Mrs. but it was worth it today."

"Will do," I said. My demeanor was friendly enough but maybe giving that frosty time-to-go signal. I was a little relieved when he left.

I had gotten my rocks off and that was nice, but I felt the psychological part hadn't been that rewarding.

But it was like the heavens were going to reward me for the so-so sex and for my unrequited feelings for Scott. My buddy Rick asked me if I wanted to catch the season opener for the Predators at a downtown sports bar. I'm not a big hockey fan, but the Predators had come off a great season and there was a buzz in the city around the team. Scott had actually canceled his Friday morning session at the gym, so I'd have an extra hour before I had to be at work that next morning.

Rick was a fellow trainer and a couple of his college friends came with us. I was the odd man out not really following the game but it was fun just inhabiting the hightop of that crowded bar and cheering each goal against the Rangers.

But eventually my eye was drawn to a table of businessmen at the table next to us. Three suit and tie guys, though their jackets were on their chairs and their ties long gone from the day at work or some convention. Given their reaction to the game, they were New Yorkers, or at least Rangers fans.

My attention was drawn to the oldest of the bunch. A sturdy built guy in a regular business man kind of way. Tan lingering from his late summer vacation, brown eyes and thinning silver hair cut almost military short, he had a kind of Jersey/Long Island daddy look that appealed to me. Best of all, his pecs filled out a pale blue dress shirt and his ass looked great in his gray trousers.

Maybe I was looking over too much because Silver Daddy caught me and gave a knowing smile. Not a flirty smile, but a “yeah, I know you're checking me out” smile. I figure straight dudes in New York are used to getting attention from gay guys all the time.

I got another pint just as the third period started. Seemed like Silver Daddy was working on another beer, too. I got the feeling they'd started early, because their booming voices just kept getting louder.

I played it cool, not so much hiding my interest from the man but rather not trying to be obvious around my buddies. But Silver Daddy started slyly looking back to me. The first time he did gave me a boner under the table, and I was half hard for the rest of the game. Playing cat and mouse with our surreptitious eye contact.

My friends were in a great mood when the game was over, since the Predators won. They tried to convince me to hit one of the more partying country bars on Broadway but I told them I had an early morning and said I'd just hang out at the sports bar and finish my beer.

I don't know if I expected anything to happen. But when I watched Silver Daddy go to the bar to order another round, I took my chance and stepped up next to him, to order my own drink.

He flashed me a drunken smile. "Your friends left you," he said. Not quite a slur but he was definitely drunk.

"Yeah," I said. "Fraid so." I replied in a way that suggested I wasn't at all upset by that turn of events.

"Let me get ya a drink," he said. His accent was New York all right.

I nodded. "Sure." I told him what I was having.

Just then one of guys came up and clapped Silver Daddy's shoulder. "Listen, Bob, we're actually gonna call it a night. See you tomorrow."

The man didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, sure, Greg. I might play hooky and skip the first session," Silver Daddy bellowed.

"I hear ya. I might be in the same boat tomorrow. Why the fuck did I let Connors convince me to do shots? I'm not fucking 22," he growled.

"Remember... water and aspirin before bed." Silver Daddy said. I couldn't tell if it was a joke or real advice.

The man shook his head. "All right... go easy, man." He clapped Bob's shoulder and then walked off.

"Guess it's just you and me," he smirked.

"Guess so," I said. God, I hadn't really had a situation like this before, but it was fun.

He leaned in, a naughty look on his face. "My hotel is nearby. Feel like skipping the beers?"

"Yeah," I said. I was starting to get hard again, but hopefully my boner wouldn't show too much. Up close this man was more solid than he looked from the distance even.

He winked and patted my shoulder. "Let me pay the tab and I'll get my jacket."

He had a swagger as we left the bar and walked down the street. I kept looking over at him. About 6'1" with very upright posture, almost chest puffing out. He had a prominent nose and forehead, which stuck out more from the receding and thinning hair. If he wasn't so clearly a businessman, I might have placed him as a coach type. I placed him in his mid 50s, but he'd taken good care of himself.

"I'm Austin, by the way," I said, realizing we hadn't even introduced ourselves.

"Bob," he replied in turn.

"You in town for business?" I asked. He could have been local, but from his talk at the bar I gathered not.

He looked over at me. "You got it," he blustered. The man had one volume for speaking it seemed. "E-Commerce Convention." He flashed a grin at me. "This was the last thing I expected to happen tonight, I'll tell you."

I smiled back. "Me either," I admitted.

He chuckled. "You do this often?"

"Not enough."

"I hear ya," he said. I could tell he had his hands in his trouser pockets to keep his own boner from being obvious. That thrilled me. "But I figure what happens in Nashville stays in Nashville, right?" The guy liked to talk. "Got a girlfriend or anything?"

I was a little nervous having this conversation so openly on the street, but no one was around to listen or care. I shook my head. "I stick with guys," I replied.

That seemed to surprise him. "Yeah, man? You should come up to New York... give those muscle gays some competition."

This was a man of surprises, but I was happy to go along for the ride. "Is that what you're into?" I asked.

This was the first and only time I saw a flicker of embarrassment on his handsome, middle-aged face. "When I'm in the mood to play that way... yeah, that flicks my switch."

"Just to be clear," I put it out there. "I don't bottom."

He chuckled some as if he found my top assertiveness cute. "All right, stud... I'm sure we can have some fun."

I felt a little bad that this was the hotel Scott and I had stayed in. Different floor, different room, but same look and furnishings... even the view out the window was the same. But Bob was night and day different from Scott. I didn't know his story but he clearly had experience with men.

"Fuck, you're hot," he growled as the room door clicked. Our bodies met, then we kissed. I loved his energy and his meaty bulk and that suit. It was impetuous and horny, the way we fueled each other's sexual excitement. We ground our crotches into one another and made out in a drunken sloppy kiss.

And already this Silver Daddy was reaching down to fumble with my jeans, undoing them and reaching in to grip my boner. "Nice one," he growled then stepped back to undo his own belt. Maybe I normally like being top dog, but I had to admit Bob had a nice tool. Long as mine and thicker. It fell out, heavy and then jerked up to a standing position.

"You suck a guy?" he asked.

"Yeah, sometimes," I replied. I wanted to get a taste. I crouched down and felt that soft wool fabric of his suit then leaned forward. His prick tasted salty and the tip was dewey with precum. I gave him a quick couple of licks then started taking him into my mouth

"Fuck yeah, man." God, I hoped the room had some soundproofing.

I wasn't a natural or skilled cocksucker, but I settled in to do right by him. Bobbing up and down on his thick tool. Not going deep, because that girth was a lot for me. But I settled into a good rhythm on about 3 and a half inches of his stalk. The brash guy was surprisingly quiet as I fellated him, standing with his legs apart and running his fingers through my hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn't seem in a rush to get off. After a couple of minutes I pulled back and got one more look of his meaty erection before looking up.

"My turn." It half question, half statement.

I stood up and kicked off my sneakers. Bob stepped back and removed his suit jacket, hardon still spit wet and sticking out of his fly. He gave me another wink, then turned to take off the rest of his clothes.

I followed suit and admired the view as I watched this middle-aged stud get onto the bed. He had some padding but some strong muscle, a classic ex-jock build. Blocky pecs, big arms, and a general thickness. He wasn't all that hairy, but his dusting of chest and stomach hair was also graying and I found that hot. There was just some dirty blond in his wiry pubes around that tubesteak.

I climbed on top of him, meeting him in another kiss and feeling our body contact. Bob got into it, which got me into it. I don't know if he was Scott Delahunt perfect, but in his own way this business guy was hotter. He humped up into me as we made out and his hands were on me.

"Jesus," he grunted, the loud voice returning. "You're a muscle dude all right," he growled.

I grinned down on him. I about told him I was a personal trainer, but figured that wasn't important.

"Figures you'd be a top," he said. Then, "Well, I have a couple condoms in my bag if you wanna get in me."

"Fuck yes," I said, which made Bob laugh. Even with a rubber, I knew I'd enjoy this.

"Just let me sit on it first," he said. "It's been a while."

I agreed and got off him so he could go fetch the rubbers and lube. He hadn't blown me yet, but that was OK. I was rock hard as I lay back against the headboard, while Bob applied some lube to my stalk, then rolled down a condom. He then lubed that.

His dick was rock hard and he had a lusty look on his face as he straddled me. I watched his chest muscle flex some as he reached down and back to guide my dick into place. His eyes seemed to drink up the sight of my body beneath him. "God, you remind me of a couple of fellas on my son's hockey team."

Good fuck, he was gonna push my buttons big time. I ran my hands along his meaty thighs. "You ever do anything with them?" I asked, my voice cracking in lust.

He smiled. "One of them, yeah...."

And like that he pushed back. I felt the snugness and then I entered his hot, right rectum. The man let out a hiss and paused, then descended down some. "You're big," he smiled, then with a determined look pushed all the way down. "OH FUCK!" he growled. I was getting into his vocal nature. But equally I was enjoying feeling up his more mature muscle. He was the kind of man who'd be hot to fuck well into his 60s, and that idea excited me perversely.

It took some restraint not to thrust into him right away, but my prick was rigid and throbbing inside him, having the mental side of the fuck make up for the lack of physical stimulation to my dick.

But it didn't take him long to relax. And with a steady motion, he rose up and fell down into my lap. Fucking himself on me. I loved watching him. His whole body getting into it as he stroked his cock and rode me. This man loved sex, and had no hangups about bottoming for me.

It was like he was reading my mind. "You know how to bring out my naughty side, stud," he said.

I now gave small thrusts up into him, to meet his bouncing. "Like with that hockey player?" I ventured.

He grinned. "Austin... talk about naughty... Mark is my best friend's son."

"Fuck!" I groaned.

"That shit turn you on?" he laughed.

I nodded. "Yeah it does."

He rode me a little faster, though his stroke on his cock kept the same pace. "Mark's fucked me a couple dozen times," he admitted. Maybe he was making it up as sex talk to work me up, but I think he was telling the truth.

I couldn't help it. I gripped his hips and took charge of the fuck, pushing up into his guts with steady hard strokes.

"That's it, stud," Bob growled. "Go for it." He reached down and felt up my chest and arms. I didn't know if I was a replacement for some college-aged hockey player, but it was OK if I was. Then he asked, "Wanna switch positions?"

He didn't wait for an answer but simply rose off me and plopped down next to me. Already he was lifting his legs up, giving me room to scoot between them. He was a hunk and a half, not magazine perfect but hotter for it. I placed his calves on my shoulders and pressed forth.

"I want you to cum," I urged as I began fucking him. My voice urgent even if I knew I wasn't going to cum with the rubber. My hips worked him in strong, physical shoves.

"Yeah," he hissed. Even if the alcohol and maybe his age had kept his trigger at bay, he was getting into it now. His eyes wildly on me and his fist working that thick tool faster. "Harder, stud!" he yelled.

I went for it. Hard and fast. His face went red and he nodded excited.

"Yeah... yeah... oh shit!"

His cum flew out with a crazy suddenness. He wasn't a big cummer but two heavy ropes flew out onto that meaty chest before his sperm oozed out in dribbles.

I pulled out and stripped off the condom. It wouldn't take me long to cum now, at all.

But Bob had different ideas. "Bring it up here," he urged.

I hadn't ever shot on a guy's face, but the idea seemed hot as hell. I scooted up and fisted my tool an inch away from his handsome business daddy mug. But he batted my hand away and leaned forward.

I was gonna get my blowjob after all. Bob didn't seem bothered by the lube and the latex taste as he sucked me in and bobbed.

About five bobs and I blasted hard. The man moaned excitedly as I filled his craw with my fresh sperm. I pulled out so I could see some spray on his chin. I felt I deserved that.

I was still dribbling in aftershocks even as I sat on the bed next to him.

He had come down from his orgasm and looked up at me with a smile. "Good for you, I take it?"

I nodded. "More than good," I replied. "I needed a lay like that."

"You caught me in the right mood," he said.

"Drunk?" I teased.

He laughed. "That helps," he said. "Listen, no pressure... but I'm in town for another day, if you wanna hook up again."

"It would be hard to say no," I said.

"Is that a no?" he asked, unsure what I meant.

"That's a yes," I clarified.

He ran his hand up my leg and then nudged his fingers against my genitals, which twitched at the touch. "I just want to take advantage of my free time away, you know?" He looked up from my cock to my face. "You can sleep here if you want."

"I'd have to get up early," I warned him. Even with Scott's cancelled session, I had to be at the gym by 7:30.

"I'll set the alarm... you can get up when you like," he said. He patted my leg once more and got up to go to the bathroom. He pissed and washed off some, I gathered, but when the door opened and he strutted back, naked, his body showing off the tan line from that beach vacation. he had a glass of water and two aspirin, which he popped in his mouth.

I got up to piss myself and as he watched me pass him, he added, "yeah, you'd give those New York guys a run for the money, all right."

[SCOTT]

"Where's your head, Delahunt?" Rich Kennedy asked after my drive on the 14th hole went wide. Way wide. "That's the third lousy shot today."

"Motherfuck!" I hissed. I was normally a good golfer, and I didn't take a bad day well.

"Oh Scotty's been in a pissy mood for weeks," Dave Feldman chimed in. I was the last of our foursome to tee off, and I think the fellas knew I was gonna slow down our group.

The fourth guy, Ed wisecracked as he looked at his phone. "He's probably checked his retirement account. Another shit day on the market fellas."

That seemed to ease the tension some and as we went on down the fairway, the conversation turned to investments and whether it was time to change the allocation for our nest eggs. It was the kind of conversation we had a lot.

I had to admit Dave was right. I had been in a bad mood. Ever since that night with Austin. I tried to get him out of my head but that attempt was making me miserable. The one exception was with Kelly. Maybe I was overcompensating but my guilt at cheating on her put me into charm mode with my wife. We'd even had sex a few times lately, which was a nice change and a welcome reminder that my heterosexuality wasn't gone.

Thing was, my bisexuality wasn't either. Sex with Austin had been amazing. I'd still throw hard during the middle of the day, almost every day, thinking back on it. I don't know, something about the combination of hardness and softness, of Austin's innocent charm and his jock masculinity, really turned me on. It was a revelation to me.

I knew I was playing with fire, even sticking with Austin as my trainer. But I kept my distance. I felt my improved physique was the best change of my life lately. I didn't want to stop that.

Our Friday training sessions were going as normal. Me focusing on a solid lower body workout and giving it 110 percent. We made some small talk, but kept it light. But for three weeks I'd avoided any talk of the Titans. Today I brought up the football talk. Austin seemed to relax and get into his fantasy team for the week and his plan to watch the game with some of his trainer buddies. I wondered if any of those guys knew Austin was into guys, but I figured younger people aren't as judgmental as people of my generation.

Whereas my Tuesday or Wednesday sessions were late afternoon, I tended to meet Austin first thing in the morning, so I could get a round of golf in for the afternoon if the weather allowed.

I'd showered and dressed in my suit for work when I saw Austin waiting outside the locker room. He had an envelope in his hand and a nervous look on his face.

"I didn't overpay you, did I?" I asked. "I'm hoping to make up that session I missed..."

He shook his head. "No... open it later," he said. "OK?"

"Yeah sure," I said. He gave me a sad nod and went back to a client who was stretching between sets.

I had a pit of my stomach feel for what was in the envelope. Or at least a ball park idea. As I got into my BMW, I tossed my gym bag on the front seat and nervously opened the letter. The writing was in pen in what I'd describe as a neat scrawl.

"Dear Scott,

Forgive my handwriting. And forgive my writing what I don't have the guts to tell you face to face.

I want to apologize to you. I crossed a line with you, and I got you to do something you didn't feel comfortable with. I almost expected you to find another trainer, and I wouldn't blame you if you did.

But I miss our friendship. Maybe that's not respecting a professional line, too, but I consider you a friend first and foremost. We can forget what happened if it would help.

There's some other sappy stuff I wrote but I tore those letters up. This is enough.

your trainer,

Austin"

My heart sank. I thought I'd be strong enough to resist this special young man. But I was pulling out my phone for a quick text. "Read your letter. You have any time to meet this afternoon? In private."

He was the kind of trainer to be focused on his clients, so it wasn't until I got to the office that I saw the text that awaited me. "I have a window between noon and 4." I typed back to see if 12:30 would work. I had a 2PM tee time. He responded back with his address and a question mark. I said yes.

The morning would have felt like torture had my calendar not been full. I'd have to catch up on work tomorrow morning, but it was one of those beautiful October days that was perfect golfing weather, and I wanted to take advantage of it.

I had to text Austin I was running late, but traffic was OK. He was there, still in his work attired of zip up and trim-cut sweats. God, he looked like a million bucks. Cute yet masculine, his dimples forming as he gave a nervous smile.

"Hey," he said as he ushered me in.

I looked around. It felt like a bachelor's apartment. Clean and basic, not a lot of decoration. "Nice place," I said.

"Thanks," he said. "Have a seat," he gestured to the couch.

I sat down, facing him. The ball was in my court. "I know I've been standoffish lately," he started. "Austin... I can't hurt my family."

The younger man grimaced. "I know... I don't want you to, Scott. Seriously."

I felt a little relieved. This was unchartered territory for me. "I wasn't going to tell you... but I enjoyed what we did... a lot."

His eyes perked up. "For real?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "Maybe a little too much."

"Did that freak you out?" he asked. Concerned.

I shook my head. "Not in itself. More about the stepping out on Kelly part. And what it meant for my marriage."

"Oh," he said.

"Even if things haven't been great with Kelly lately, I'm not going to leave her," I said.

I could read in Austin's quietness he was nervous of saying the wrong thing. But he finally spoke up. “If you wanna fool around, Scott, I’m really discreet, I promise.”

I blushed. “Come on, Austin,” I pleaded. I very much liked the idea of what he was suggesting, and maybe that’s why I was pissed at him for suggesting it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just had to try.”

“Sorry, Austin,” I said softly. I felt so many mixed emotions then. And yeah, I wanted him again. Wanted to feel more what sex was like with this stud. Instead, I stood up. “I better go,” I said.

He nodded. He stood up and walked me to the door. “Let me know if you’d like help finding another trainer,” he said with resignation.

I knew he was giving me an out. For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to take it. “I don’t want another trainer, Austin,” I said, frustration in my voice. “You’re good at what you do. I just need some boundaries.”

“I get it, Scott,” he said. “See you at the gym.”

I was actually hyperventilating when I get to my car. I didn’t start it right away though. Instead, I thought about what would happen if I’d let the conversation go the other way. “Fuck!” I grunted aloud to myself, then opened the car door.

Austin was surprised as hell when he answered the door and saw me there. I gathered my courage while I had it and stepped inside, shutting the door and then turning to him. ‘

“God,” he hissed, so turned on now that he realized what was going on. We met in a kiss, more heated than the one in the hotel room. It was like the several weeks had led to the pent-up lust that came pouring out. My first time with Austin had felt strange and unfamiliar, and in a way I was glad to have that behind me.

I got down in front of him, crouching right there. He was hard for me already, fully hard, and I could see that thick tool riding up into a tent of his sweats. He helped me pull off his sweats and with a goofy grin he hooked his thumbs in his waistband to pull it over his dong.

"I didn't get a look the last time," I said then looked up into his eyes. "I didn't think I'd get into a guy's dick like this."

"But you do...?" Austin clarified.

"Maybe because of the fine man it's attached to... but yeah." I looked at his cock again, thrilled to see it firm and pointing straight up. He wasn't giant but he was hung, and there was just something so beautiful about his erection. I looked back up into his face, where I saw happiness, excitement and thrill.

My hand touched his hard quad muscle and that’s all the signal he needed. He lined up his prick to my lips. "I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Mr. D," he whispered hoarsely.

I had been thinking a lot about this too. “Will sex get in the way of the friendship thing?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Fuck no, Scott." Then. “Come on, pretty please, man. Suck me.”

I breathed in his scent, then leaned in. "Ohhh," he grunted as I began sucking him.

I didn't know what I was doing last time. I still didn't. But I knew I was better at this, and I could read in Austin's voice and body that he was crazy turned on. I was learning my suit was part of the thrill for him and the whole "exec" type I represented to him.

I pulled off and enjoyed the sight of his engorged cock, twitching and wet with my spit. Not far from shooting.

"When you feel ready, just come in my mouth, OK?" I asked.

He nodded like he couldn't believe what was happening. That made me want to give it my all. I took about four inches into my mouth, making it five as I bobbed up and down furiously. My gag reflex didn't kick in, which I was grateful for. I'd missed this, missed the feel and act of a cock in my mouth. Missed making another man cum.

Austin's load was big. It took me by surprise and I coughed a little before I remembered what he did last time. I pulled back so the prick head spurted on my tongue. I don't know if that felt best for Austin, but I decided I loved that part. I tasted and swallowed him, in a couple of rounds, till the poor guy was spent.

"Let me do you," he urged.

I was horny but self conscious. I unzipped my suit as Austin got between my legs, running his hands along the fabric. "I'm not hung you like I'm afraid."

"I love your cock," he said. Then looking up in my eyes, he added. "For real, Scott. Everything about you turns me on." He leaned in for a kiss and I met him. A part of me wanted to avoid the kissing thing but I decided oral sex was a bigger issue. Besides, I wanted this. I kissed Austin back.

His soft kiss, full of gentle tongue, got me rock hard and leaking. He smirked as he pulled back and saw my dick poking up hard out of the open fly. "You're hard as steel," he said. "I love it."

I watched as he got down and started going down on me. I guess I didn't have a lot of length, and Austin managed to work the whole length with lots of spit and lots of suction. Kelly very occasionally gave me head, but it was nothing like this.

"Buddy!" I gasped. Warning him.

He moaned around my cock. This was the first time I'd blasted in another man's mouth since college. But this was night and day different. This was Austin.

He was more talkative after we uncoupled. "Damn, that was incredible," Austin laughed. I realized I missed his laugh and his smile. I missed laidback, happy Austin.

He made himself presentable again and offered me something to drink. I took some water.

"Trust me, Scott," he assured me. "I'm not going to do anything to mess up anything for you at home. But I'm so fucking grateful for that."

"I'm glad," I said. "I've been thinking about the sex for the last three weeks."

"I wasn't sure..." he said. He looked at his watch. "Listen, you're gonna be late for the club. And I probably need a nap before my evening sessions."

I stood up. I found getting off had eased my mood, and I was still processing how good Austin's blowjob had felt. "I'm being greedy," I said. "But maybe I can get away sometime this weekend. That is, if you wanna?"

"Hell yeah, I wanna," he said softly. And with a new confidence he stepped up to me to kiss me. He ran his hands up along the lapels of my coat. “And maybe you can wear your suit for me again sometime.”

[onestepbackwards]

(Chatting)

I know a lot of people love the Self-Aware Au.

But I can’t help imagining the Hisui residents being in another universe that playing PLA gives us access to. They are unable to see us but can feel us looking over the MC’s shoulder.

=================================

Most of them brushed it off during the first few days. There were enough things to worry about before Ward (and wasn’t that just the oddest name for a young girl) fell from the Rift... Until they started noticing something following the sky-faller. It seemed to have some control over the girl if all the inhuman feats she pulled off were any indication. Not to mention everyone could feel it looking at them from behind her.

The first few signs were hard to miss. Ward was able to stay up for several days and nights going on surveys. Except she started sleeping through entire days, getting up at specific times, went out to catch, and repeat. Her throw accuracy topped even that of Captain Cyllene, though according to the Professor she would occasionally break a ball on a tree. Secondly—Ward never seemed to get dirty despite being in the wilds for so long. How ironic dirtiness would be more normal than her spotless ness.

Pokemon caught by the corps member would rarely if not ever misbehave. She tamed them in some unseen ways but even too-powerful ones who ignored her commands never grew hostile. They were too frightened to tell her off for sending out Pokemon inside Jubilife Village.

(Marie seemed to be affected when she didn’t mind how peculiar the Pokemon were. How did a wooden fence stop them from rampaging???)

It could also predict what their requests were going to be. Ward spent many weeks religiously catching Buizel before taking Dorian’s request. His new Buizel was the exact size he had been looking for to aid his original one. Beauregard got three new Wurmples with the being saying something about Beautifly being impossible to get with one. And wasn’t that a shock! The non-human thing would make rare comments on issues—it seemed to have selective hearing...

A rather startling surprise came when it left Ward standing in place. She didn’t talk but they heard her hum, saw her fidget, even stretch.

Never did the being get truly mad. Frustrated over losing the chance to catch a rare Pokemon was the closest. But a poor Agriculture corps man was left shaking after Ward listened to him talk about his Cherrim request. Kichi described the absolute hate directed at him for half hour from it. First, he felt its gaze focus on him more intently than a casual glance over. Then he could feel the thing glaring at him and its voice complained so much about how stupid Cherrim was! He just wanted to see the complete entry!

It got mad enough to leave Ward stuck for a few minutes in front of Kichi. So. The entity didn’t like all Pokemon as its dedication to the Pokedex project indicated...............

========

Otherwise, us playing through Day and Night cycles. Sleeping at camp. Getting through requests as quickly as possible. And hearing about the dreaded Cherrim quest yet not knowing who exactly gave it to us.

I might write more of this. What do you think?

These ideas are very interesting, building off of that last ask 👀

Idk, just the idea of characters being wary of a ‘vessel’ is pretty neat.

To everyone, it’s just weird. No one really knows how to react to the hero, seeing as they are just… only somewhat there? Just a puppet to whoever is really in control. It makes conversations… tense.

And seeing everything they do… being able to sleep like a rock without moving a muscle, as much as needed, at any time. It has people on edge. Especially since despite how the hero may sleep in the weirdest places at the weirdest times, pokemon don’t attack the camp.

Sometimes the hero will just stare in the fields at nothing, standing there for hours. Sometimes even days.

If you watch them long enough, you start to notice how often they repeat thing. The same exact stretch, the same exact look around, the exact same hum.

It’s unnerving.

Sometimes the people think it’s better if they leave the hero alone…

Best not to poke the beast behind the hero. The one they cannot see.

[acommonloon]

Black hole sons - egos of men daren’t be eclipsed

My sister invited us to visit her new place in Kentucky on Saturday. Her Lawrenceburg address was an hour and a half drive to “nowhere close.” Even Frankfort was 45 minutes away. As it was their one year anniversary at the new house, it was going to be a big shindig. We felt we had to go.

TD, my sister’s husband (although they never use the term and I don’t think they ever officially married) is a Marine(ret) and a black man so…

We would get to visit with some black people! Yay! lol I spent 21 years in a diverse Air Force with many of those years in North Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, and Europe so, after our last 22 years in white bread Indiana, I was looking forward to a gathering with some color.

We had a good time but this morning we discussed a thing we both noticed.

We arrived on time so we were early. It’s a military thing. My sister met us at the car as we unloaded lawn chairs, a cooler with beer (I would drink) and a bag with a bottle of bourbon, a gift for TD. I apologized as I handed it to my sister because we didn’t find anything we specifically wanted to gift her. Then I said, “Maybe you like bourbon too?”

“I do like bourbon but TD doesn’t like me drinking it.” She said.

What?

“Yeah, he says I get too mouthy when I drink bourbon.” She chuckled

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“I do love bourbon though.” She sighed.

This morning, I recalled this to D and she asked, “Did you notice how the black women and the white women married to black men were cheerfully subservient to the men.” She went on, “I was really shocked when Jerry said to his wife, “Hey can I get some ice over here?”

His wife, Anita, responded of course honey and brought it right over.

That was some Mad Men level patriarchy right there.

Before we were given leave to eat, TD turned the prayer into his personal story of deliverance by God, the result being the property he now owned. It was his dream, granted to him because he always put God first. He acknowledged the prior owners who were on hand, recounting how it was his note, left under the humidor entreating the, then unknown, owner to always keep the Marine Corps flag flying that sealed the deal. I felt this conclusion somewhat undermined when he admitted the seller asked the two prior contract offers to perform within 48hours and only when they couldn’t, was his offer accepted. Inshallah. After the conclusion of the prayer, I walked over to the prior owners.

What a wonderful place I enthused, “How could you bear to leave it? I asked.

They smiled and I saw genuine sadness as they said they’d always dreamed to have such a place but couldn’t keep it up. They said they’d bought a smaller place nearby but, what I was seeing here now had always been their dream too.

Perhaps they hadn’t always put God first in their lives or maybe it was just his plan to let them toil for years before letting someone else buy the fruit of their labor.

Minutes later, God’s chosen was back on his soapbox. He introduced his son. His oldest son. He said he’d always hoped one of his sons, but especially this one, would follow him into the Marine Corps. He couldn’t be prouder. Oh and his other son, a football coach, would be here later. Yikes

Then he demanded to know where the cake was. He directed this query to my sister. She said it was in the house. Well get it he smiled. She turned and went.

I watched her walk away from the crowd. No one looked her way. I shouted, “Do you need any help?”

FUCK! I never heard a cross word or impolite remark during the event. It was the type of fellowship I remembered from church dinners during my youth. Everyone emoting delight at the company around them. Sunny smiles all around + alcohol.

Earlier as we were driving down, I’d called my sister to say we would be early if that was okay so we could have a bit of time to visit before the crowds arrived. I joked there’d probably be a hundred people. She said that was accurate with all the people TD had invited. “His problem is he’s too likeable!” I joked.

“You don’t have to live with him.” She responded.

These men love their wives like cherished possessions. They ply them with caring condescension giving all credit to godly provenance and their own wisdom for doing so.

[potatowithahat]

If dreams can come true, what does that say about nightmares?

A Eddie Gluskin fic.

Day two of Fictober: "It's been a long time"

After the asylum gets taken over everything is perfect for Eddie

Until his medication wears off

Warning:

This post contains some pretty dark themes. Eddie is a complex character, and there's no real way to capture him without understanding that

“It’s been a long time, Eddie dear.” Kira giggles from the chair beside his sewing machine.

 

“Fuck.” Eddie grumbled from where he was, silently cursing himself for letting his mind wander while he was doing something so menial as surgery.

 

He knew she’d come back, of course, she always did when he was off his medication. And with the Asylum being… overtaken, for lack of a better word, he knew it was only a matter of time. He just didn’t expect her to slip back into his reality only hours after the next dose would have been due 

 

“Out of my head, devil.” he muttered, trying futilely to focus on stitching the corpse.

 

“Now that is no way to treat a lady!” Kira places a hand on her chest in false annoyance. “I spent all that time caged up in that little head of yours to be told to leave when I arrive?” She steps towards the metal table with the body “I’d thought you would enjoy my company?”

 

“Stop,” Eddie said, staring at his work. If he wasn’t talking to her it’d be as if she didn’t exist.

 

Never mind that she didn’t actually exist.  Eddie was pretty sure she might have, at one point. He remembers being able to touch her olive skin, carding his hands through her chocolate hair. He remembers how cold her skin had gotten that night, and how loud her screams were when he was dragged out.

 

Or maybe those were his screams? Eddie could never be quite sure. His memory had a way of doing that to itself. Always only half of a memory, everything since her blurry and only given in halves.

 

But that was long, long ago. And those doctors had said he was getting better.

 

Or maybe they had said he’d never get any better?

 

Again with that silly memory of his.

 

Either way that was before this place went to hell.

 

Now all he had was his tools and his brides.

 

“Right, brides. Back to work.” He muttered to himself, looking back down at the body and resuming where he had paused his stitching.

 

“Ohhh, so that's what this little operation is about?” Kira smiled as she stalked over to the head, gently petting the blonde hair “What's his name?”

 

“William.” Eddie glanced over to where she touched the dead man's hair, the action causing his own mind to produce memories of those hands carding through his hair like that  “One of the Researchers who made me like this.”

 

Kira reached out to touch the burn marks on the side of Eddie's face gently.

 

“Will you scar him too?” She asks, tilting her head to the side gently.

 

“What?” Eddie looks up at her, a bit panicked “No, no! My Bride will be perfect! She will not be scarred.”

 

Kira stares at him for a second.

 

“I have a scar.”

 

Eddie stared at her, dumbfounded.

 

“What?”

 

He thought back to everything he could remember of her. Her smile, her little laugh when she saw something funny. The way she always made sure to pack a lunch for him when he went to work. How mad she’d get when his father called the house asking for him.

 

He had seen, no, felt every ounce of her. She did not have a scar.

 

“From the C section” 

 

She pulled up her blouse a bit, a large c-shaped scar just above her waist. It was no longer than maybe 12 centimeters across, and red and puffy as if new.

 

Eddie's needle clattered to the table, and he reached a bloody hand out towards it. Her skin was cold as ice under his fingertips, and though he knew it was just an illusion it felt so…. Real.

 

“No.. no” Eddie shook his head “No you didn’t have a scar.. No.”

 

He took a startling step back.

 

Kira tilts her head quizzically “I did. From the baby.”

 

That's when it hit him. His son.

 

HE remembered. He remembered it clear as day without his medications clouding his mind.

The screaming hadn’t been his. It was too high pitched, too young. Infantile.

 

Eddie stumbled back towards the table once more.

 

“What did you do to him?” Kira steps forward in tandem. “What happened to him after?”

 

Eddie put his hand to his head. 

 

What had happened? 

 

Damn, this accursed memory.

 

“I don't know” He muttered, staring intently at the floor.

 

“Yes, you do” She took another step forward, almost menacingly. “What happened to Elijah? What happened to my son?”

 

“I don't know!” Eddie insisted “They dragged me out before I saw him.”

 

“Don’t Lie!” She shouted. “You must have seen him. His crib was by the door! Did the intruder get to him? What happened to our son?!”  

 

“I DON’T KNOW!” Eddie shouts and steps forward reaching out to grapple her.

 

Kira doesn’t even flinch, staring up at him, tears streaming down her face.

 

Eddie stares down at her, retreating his hands from where they hover over her neck.

 

Had she been crying this whole time?

 

“I don’t know…” he muttered weakly, resting his hands on the table behind him.

 

“No one told you where he went? No one even mentioned our boy in passing?” Kira's knees buckle, falling to the floor gently “Eddie?”

 

“He was crying.” Eddie manages to choke out. “He was crying when The Paramedics pulled me out.”

 

“Did they get him?”

 

Eddie thought back to that night. Nothing new.

 

“I…”

 

Eddie stares at his shoes uselessly.

 

“Please, I just need peace Eddie, I can’t-” She stares at her hands, sniffing.

Then she's frozen, like a portrait painted on some dark canvas.

 

And in came a voice that froze him to the core.

 

“Is that really what you think she would act like?” His Father calls from the other side of the room by his bed.

 

“She sounds like Sara” He spits as he steps closer to the two of them.

 

Eddie stares at him, rage in his eyes “You’re the only one who made Mother like this.”

 

His dad frowns “No. Your Mother would have been fine if you hadn’t gone and told her.” he continues his path towards them.

 

Kira's form in front of him shifted to that of his Mother, sobbing in front of him in her nightdress.

 

“You made her like that.” His uncle calls with that oily tone from behind him. His voice grated upon Eddie’s very soul.

 

“No, NO!” Eddie pressed his head to his hands. “Stop. You’re the ones who attacked me.”

 

“You should’ve stayed silent!” His father's voice pierces over even the tightest seal on his ears. “She wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told her.” 

 

The scene in front of him shifts again, his mother now standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, his father pounding on the door as she stares at a box of razors.

 

“No, no!”

 

Eddie lunged forward, reaching for his mother desperately as the scene disperses.

 

“Look what you did.” His uncle places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, searing his skin with his touch.

 

“A shame.” His father shakes his head as if his favorite pet had run away instead of his wife dying. “I did quite love her”

 

“Stop” Eddie brushes His uncle's hands away, stumbling towards his knives 

 

“Ah, ah, ah” His dad smiles as he steps in front of him “Bad”

 

That's when his head really starts to pound. Flashes of hushed words, hands grasping, and much bigger mouths on his

 

“No” He shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly “Get out”

 

There's a long, loud pause where the only thing he can hear is his own heartbeat, drumming in his ears and the soft sound of his labored breathing the silence is deafening

Then, he hears it.

 

A soft, whiny cry from his bed.

 

Elijah

 

Eddie opens his eyes, no longer greeted by the dust and grime of the asylum, but now a stark white box. Where his bed normally is is a black crib, a small bundle lying in the middle.

 

“Elijah” He steps forward towards the crib

 

With every step forward he takes the baby seems to grow a bit more, going from an infant to a toddler to a small child in the seconds it takes him to reach the boy

 

“It's ok” He smiles softly, kneeling down to be level with the boy.

 

He looks so much like his mother, his shaggy brown hair pushed out of his eyes, olive skin glistening from some invisible light

 

“Papa!” The boy smiles, his accent again just like his mother

 

For a second Eddie is relieved, glad to see the boy is nothing like him.

 

Until he reaches to ruffle the boy's hair. The way he flinches and fakes a smile, he’d know that look anywhere. There was no way he got that from Kira

 

“No. I’m not.. I wouldn’t do that to my son” Eddie tumbles back, the boy aging back now with each step.

 

If Eddie looked closely he could catch the exact moment the light in his eyes became fake

 

“I'M NOT HIM!” Eddie shouts, his yelling now startling the now toddler 

 

“Papa!” The boy giggles and claps, clearly not understanding what Eddie is saying 

 

“Stay back” he calls to the boy, the scene morphing back to the asylum

 

He lets out a shaky breath as he looks down, realizing he is once again holding the sewing needle and thread, staring down at a corpse

 

“Well well” he hears a giggly voice call from beside his sewing machine

 

“It’s been a long time, Eddie dear.”

Well that one was fun to write

Thank you for reading!!!

As always I'm a little gremlin when it comes to writing so if you have any fic ideas please feel free to drop an ask!!!!

If you'd like to read more of my stories, feel free to visit my Ao3, or check out my masterlist here on tumblr!!!

[a-crack-in-the-universe]

Truth or Dare

@cotrk-events

Everyone knew that Gabriel and Fidelio were crazy about each other but those two idiots still hadn’t made a move yet. Why, Olivia couldn’t understand. So she’d devised a plan—get them to admit their feelings for one another via a game of Truth or Dare.

Olivia loved Truth or Dare. There was something rather thrilling about being made to confess your deepest truths or do embarrassing things. It was even more thrilling to make other people do those things. 

But anyway. Olivia was hosting a party at her house, and all her friends were invited, Gabriel and Fidelio included. This was where she would strike. Emma wasn’t sure about her plan, for what if something didn’t go as planned, or what if they got mad at her? You don’t have to worry, Olivia reassured her. Everything will do exactly as planned. And besides, everyone knows that Gabe and Fido like each other. They just need some encouragement to finally get together.       

 

The party started; all her guests arrived. They spent the first hour or so in the dining room catching up, listening to music and munching on the delicious snacks her mother had obligingly prepared for them. Then Olivia led them all to the living room, where they sat in a circle facing each other.  

“For our first game, we’re going to play Truth or Dare,” Olivia announced gleefully, and ignored the groans from several of her friends who hated the game.

“I’ll start. Charlie, I dare you to use your endowment for fun. Pick a random photo and tell us what it’s saying.”

Charlie groaned. “Really, Liv? We’re not supposed to use our gifts for frivolous reasons.”

Olivia shrugged. Charlie had grown so serious over the past few years. Sure, they shouldn’t misuse their endowments, but there was a difference between using them to have a bit of fun and abusing them. What was the harm if they did it for a bit of fun as long as no one got hurt?

“No one else is here except us,” Olivia pointed out. “Besides, you’ve got to do it. It’s part of the game.”

Charlie sighed. “Fine. Give me that magazine over there.”

Olivia handed him her mother’s Celebrity Weekly magazine that was sitting on the coffee table next to her. Charlie flicked to a random page that had a photo of two female celebrities sitting on the edge of a pool dressed in bikinis, smiling brightly at an unknown camera man. He stared at the image for a few moments, until Olivia grew impatient with curiosity and blurted out, “Well, what are they saying?”

To her surprise, Charlie blushed a little. “Well… the two women—they’re models-- are gossiping a bit. One of them is talking about how someone called Tiffany is having an affair with her manager who’s married. The other woman is laughing and the camera man is coughing and asking them to focus so they can finish the shoot. He doesn’t sound very happy. One of the women says, Come join us, we’ll give you some fun. Then—and I don’t know why—the scene starts shaking and going all blurry. I think the cameraman says, This is the last time I do a job for a pair of rich bitches. And that’s all.”

“Wicked!” Olivia exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Tancred agreed, his hair crackling with excitement. “Awesome!”

“I think it’s horrible,” Emma said. “Those two models treated the poor cameraman terribly!”  

“I think it’s a frivolous waste,” Lysander said severely. “You shouldn’t have asked Charlie to do it, Olivia.”

Olivia stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re being way too serious, Lysander Sage. It’s just a bit of harmless fun.”

Lysander frowned at her. “Still, we shouldn’t use our gifts like this.”

Olivia shrugged. “Anyway, Charlie’s done the dare, so now it’s his turn.”

The following half an hour was great fun. Olivia laughed and gasped along with the rest of her friends as each of them either told a truth or did a dare. Emma picked Truth and admitted that there was one time where she got stuck as a bird and spent a day and a night like that until she remembered how to turn herself back. Tancred was dared to balance an apple on his head while reciting a silly poem, which he failed at spectacularly because he kept laughing and blowing the apple off. Naren also chose Dare and managed to scare the group using her gift to conjure shadowy monsters on the walls of the living room that were shining with the moon’s light.  

And finally, it was Olivia’s turn again. She smiled brightly and said, “Gabriel, I dare you to ask Fidelio for a kiss. On the lips.”

Gabriel started in surprise and went an interesting shade of pink. He looked at Fidelio, who looked back at him with a friendly grin on his face. He hesitated. 

“Come on, Gabe!” Tancred laughed. “We all know you. Stop being so scared! Nothing bad is going to happen if you try it just this once.”

“I… all right.” A determined look crossed Gabriel Silk’s face. He squared his shoulders, stood up and walked to where Fidelio was now standing waiting for him. “Fidelio… ah… would you mind if I kiss you? Just this once?”

Fidelio smiled at him. “I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.”

Shyly, Gabriel Silk leaned forward. Fidelio did too. Olivia watched with wonder as their lips met and their world narrowed to only each other, as if nothing else mattered.  

After a few moments the two boys broke apart, grinning wildly at each other. Olivia and the rest of her friends cheered. They had all known about the boys’ feelings for one another, and to see them finally make the move was a joy to see.  

An hour later, when the group had left the living room and scattered to do their own thing for a while, Olivia came across Gabriel and Fidelio sitting close together on the sofa, murmuring quietly to each other. Yes, she thought jubilantly, they were definitely sitting closer than any friends would.   

Olivia smiled to herself. Her work was done.